December 10, 1518
Three years.
Three years had gone by. I was alive and well, along with Anne. It was a miracle, really, that we both survived. Katherine and Henry were both extremely grateful for our good health, along with most of England.
Katherine, now six years old and growing up to be a kind, brilliant girl, still spent most of her time in Hatfield. Her tutor reported as often as she could of her accomplishments. I was incredibly proud of her and all she achieved. It pleased Henry as well. Knowing his sole heir was so clever soothed his worries a bit.
Whereas Kate resided in Hatfield, Anne was in Westhorpe. After arguing about it for a month or so, I agreed that she could live separately from Katherine, though I did so very reluctantly. Henry insisted that Anne would cause a disruption to Katherine's education. I understood that he wanted his heir to receive the best education in all of England, possibly even Europe, but it saddened me that my daughters were so far from me and from each other. So Anne, three years old and becoming a beautiful and quick-witted princess, lived in Westhorpe. I planned on moving them both to Hatfield once they were older, though.
For the holidays, though, both of the princesses came to court.
When their carriage arrived, dragging an imprint in the freshly fallen snow, the whole court was joyous. Henry and I went outside, draped in warm cloaks and concealed from the bitter chill, eager to greet them.
First, Katherine stepped out of the carriage. She was dressed warmly and in a regal purple, which seemed to be her favorite color. Like most girls her age, she seemed older each time I saw her. She was definitely taller and the roundness of her face was fading. Her dark hair was pinned back neatly, and she radiated, even at such a young age, a sense of elegance and grace.
Anne exited the carriage after. She stumbled a bit but Katherine helped her. Whereas Katherine favored me, Anne looked a lot like her father. It was becoming more evident as she grew. Now three years old, Anne's ebony curls fell freely, framing her pale face and accentuating her blue eyes.
They were opposites in personality, too. Katherine, beginning to fully understand her future and responsibilities, was refined and sensible. Anne was relaxed and witty, a stark contrast to her sister.
"Mama!" Anne exclaimed happily, running over to me. She wrapped her arms around me, and I bent down to her level, smiling.
"Anne! It is so good to see you. How are you?"
"Well!" she answered merrily.
"And you, Kate? How are your lessons coming along?" Henry asked.
Katherine smiled respectfully. "They're amusing. I like my new tutor much more than my old one. But I get quite lonely. Why can't Anne and I both live at Hatfield or here, at court?"
I looked at Henry, a smug grin on my face. He stumbled for an answer, knowing Katherine would be disappointed no matter what.
"Your studies," he answered, "Are incredibly important. We must minimize distractions, including your sister and the madness at court."
Katherine sighed, disappointed. I hated seeing her so sad. "Katherine, you will be queen one day," I said calmly, "You must be prepared if you want to lead fervently and admirably. When you are older, you will see your sister so much that you wish you lived separately, I promise." I smiled wistfully at her. So young, with so much pressure bearing down on her and still she maintained her image of poise and grace. She was a truly remarkable girl.
The perfect heir.
"We are all here now, though," Henry said joyously, scooping Anne up. "And I believe some celebrations are in order."
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Feasting and dancing filled the night. Katherine and Anne danced merrily around the large room, their smiles never departing. I sat beside Henry, a bit exhausted from the day's work.
"Wolsey spoke of moving Katherine to Wales and Anne to Hatfield," I said, "Is it true?"
Wolsey and I got along horribly. He believed that the people didn't want to see Henry involved too much in matters of state, and that they would rather see him jousting and hunting. He thought even less of me, as if I were just a figure for England to look to. Now that heirs had been delivered, I desired to be more involved in politics, but it was becoming very difficult.
"He has mentioned it," Henry answered vaguely.
"I'd advise against it," I responded, "It isn't worth the effort or money to move them when they are content."
"Then it is a good thing you are not my adviser," Henry mumbled, barely audible.
I pretended not to notice, even though I was hurt. Did he not appreciate my advice? "I think I will retire for the night," I said decidedly, standing.
Henry tugged gently on my sleeve, motioning for me to sit. "Anna, don't be so dramatic-"
"I'm tired," I lied.
"Then perhaps Anne and Kate should retire as well," Henry suggested, raising an eyebrow.
"I agree. They'll be exhausted tomorrow if they stay up too much longer," I agreed, "But what do I know? My advice clearly means practically nothing to you."
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December 11, 1518
Overnight, it had snowed even more. In the morning, the palace's exterior was covered in a thick blanket of snow. I awoke particularly early.
"Mary, are there any letters for me?" I asked.
Mary Gavell, who had been a lady in waiting of mine years before, was the sister of the late Sarah Gavell, my former lady who had been killed by an assassin who set out to kill me. Sarah's family was generously compensated for their loss and Sarah's service, and Mary's position was reinstated.
"Yes, my lady," Mary answered, always dutiful and timid, "One from the French queen came overnight."
She passed an envelope to me, and I opened it indifferently. Queen Claude seemed kind and reasonable enough, though I had only met her once when she was fifteen. My brown eyes scanned the letter attentively, curious as to what the French queen was writing to me about. As I read, I paced the room and my ladies watched me curiously. A satisfied grin grew across my face when I finished reading.
"Francis and Claude have proposed a marriage between their eldest son and one of the princesses!" I exclaimed happily, "Oh, I must tell Henry."
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"You'll never believe what the French queen has said to me!" I said, entering the room happily.
Henry was sitting, with papers spread messily about. Thomas Wolsey sat adjacent to him, and they were both focused on the papers.
"The French queen has not said anything to you," Wolsey said critically, a disapproving frown on his ashy face. "She is in France, and you are here."
"I know she is in France, I'm not stupid," I argued.
"Then what is this about, Anna?" Henry asked, "Is it important?"
"Queen Claude wrote a letter to me," I said matter-of-factly, "She has promised her child to one of the princesses."
Wolsey looked at me strangely, and Henry seemed perplexed. I stood there awkwardly, not sure of what to do. Were they pleased? Disappointed?
"It's not that simple, Anna," Henry said, "Katherine is the heir, we can't-"
"I thought it would be better if Anne married the French prince," I interjected, "We'd have an English princess on a French throne, and would still be able to arrange an advantageous marriage for Katherine. A foreign prince, perhaps. Then we would have Tudors on many European thrones. You have to think long-term"
Wolsey shook his head disapprovingly. "That's ridiculous," he said, "Princess Katherine is older and the heir, so she should be betrothed before Princess Anne."
"Anna has a valid argument. I agree that Anne is the better choice," Henry said, siding with me, "I suppose a contract should be arranged. I'll send a new English Ambassador to France to negotiate the terms." He looked between me and the cardinal sharply. "However, promises can be broken. The French are known to be frivolous with their promises, especially when it involved England."
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December 12, 1518
Anne and Katherine sat on the floor in my chambers, and I sat on a nearby chair, reading a book. Just having them nearby was enough to make my heart burst with happiness. Every day, I grew more and more proud of them. Though they were young and prone to intemperate outbursts, a trait that probably came from both Henry and myself, they were charming and sweet and everyone who met them adored them.
"Give it back!" Anne yelled abruptly, startling me and a nearby maid.
I glanced over at them. Anne was irate, a displeased frown painted on her pale face. Katherine was frustrated, and I noticed she had multiple dolls in her arms, while her sister had none.
"Kate, give it back," I chided, "You must share with your sister."
Katherine looked over at me, her nose scrunched. I raised my eyebrows, giving her a threatening expression. She threw a doll at her sister, hardly suppressing a smug grin.
"Katherine!" I scolded. "Be nice."
"Why does Anne get to marry the French prince and not me?" she huffed, "I'm older, and I'll be queen one day, not Anne."
I closed my book, sitting on the floor with my daughters. My household returned to their tasks, and I lowered my voice so that only Kate and Anne could hear me.
"You're right. You will be England's queen because you are older, Kate," I explained, "But Anne will be France's queen if she marries the Dauphin. Then you will both be queens."
"But who will I marry?" Katherine asked, calming herself down from her brief outburst.
"No one," Anne chimed, witty as ever, "You'll be queen. You won't need to marry anyone."
Katherine glared at her little sister. "That isn't how it works, Anne. Every country has a king and queen. I can't rule alone."
"You can certainly rule alone," I assured her, "But you won't have to. You'll find someone to love you and rule beside you, Kate."
"And he'll love me as much as Papa loves you?" she asked hopefully.
"Even more," I assured her, smiling.
Despite our shortcomings, Henry and I did love each other madly. I was calm and collected when he was wild and intemperate, and he never tolerated my fits of anger. We were a lot more alike than I thought we were.
I arrived at court on the twelfth of May in 1511, not long after I turned seventeen. Henry was nineteen and alone, the weight of England's future bearing down on him greatly. He needed a queen and wife to share the burden, and he chose me out of the countless girls he brought to court. Clearly, he saw something in me he hadn't seen in the other candidates.
And seven years later, I was Anna, the wife of Henry VIII, mother of Princess Katherine and Princess Anne, and the queen of England. I had come so far in such a short amount of time, and I felt unassailable, like nothing would ever threaten my reign.
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published october 17, 2020
a/n: this chapter was so fun to write, especially all the katherine and anne moments. since i've skipped ahead three years, here are some ages to avoid confusion: Henry is now 26, Anna is now 24, Katherine is now 6, and Anne is now 3.