February 1, 1519
I was alone. A dark room surrounded me, a slight chill blowing through it. Only one small candle was there to illuminate the room, but it shone brightly and burned valiantly. I pulled by knees to my chest, feeling small and pitiful. The air was extensive and I began to feel like it would never end. Around me, people's familiar voices echoed, all overlapping and creating a horrible, choking feeling in my throat.. The most prominent voice, however, was my own.
"Please," my voice rang, full of desperation and grief, "Please, Henry. For the love you bear our children, for the love you bear Katherine and Anne! Please, have mercy."
"No!" Henry's voice replied, a booming certainty filled with resentment and grief echoing, "You've lied to me all these years. You weren't what you seemed."
"No... no. No, I loved you!" I called out, "And I love you still. Please, Henry! After everything we were, please! Give me one more chance." My cries were met with a resounding silence. "Your Majesty, I beseech you! Have mercy-"
Silence. Then, the voices resumed. Clearly, the situation they stemmed from had changed, but it was still my voice, and a man's.
"I am the king's true wife. You know that, don't you?" I pleaded, my voice much lighter than before, "You have to help him see the truth."
"I cannot do that, Your Majesty," the man replied, "Only you can convince him to see the truth."
I put my hands to my ears, wishing the words would just disappear. I hated the awful ringing they created, and the sinking feeling in my stomach.
"Your Majesty?" a new voice chimed. "Your Majesty!
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"Your Majesty!" a girl said urgently, "Oh, my lady! Are you alright?"
My eyes fluttered open, the unwelcome light pouring in fervently. Clara hovered over me, her expression depicting deep concern, and my other ladies were crowded around my bed. Even Isabell, I noted. She looked at me, the guilt swimming in her charming blue eyes. She was unaware that I knew of her affair, and I intended to keep it that way for the time being.
"It was only a bad dream, Clara," I replied, "I'm fine, truly."
"Are you sure? You were rambling on and on," she pressed, "Something about His Majesty, I think."
"You are mistaken," I assured her, "We have more pressing matters ahead, anyway. The masque is tonight, and we must ready ourselves. Come now, this evening is sure to be a joyous one."
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I was dressed from head to toe in a simple cream color. The gown was airy and light, much more breathable than the others I usually wore. The squarish neckline had little pearls sewn on it, which was my favorite part, and the skirts fell in beautiful, cascading waves of silk down to the floor. "Charity" was written in glittering gold letters across the sash I wore. The mask fit snugly on my face, covering the skin around my eyes and nose so that I was less recognizable. It was a lovely ensemble, no doubt arranged by Charles Brandon's wife, Mary, rather than him. Knowing him, he'd rather see women dance naked than covered in the beautiful fabrics that had been chosen for these gowns. Quite disappointing, I though, as the gowns were gorgeous.
The pageant was an extravagant event. Seven virtues, the women, and seven deadly sins, the men, stood in horizontal lines opposite of each other. Each person, clothed in rich, fashionable costumes that resembled mine, chose a masked partner. At the end of the dancing, the mask was removed and the identity of the person was revealed. Even with masks on, Henry and I spotted each other right away. He represented Pride, and I could hardly contain a giggle at the irony. He was easily the most prideful man in the whole kingdom. It was incredibly fitting. I considered, for a brief moment, choosing someone else just to spite him-all in good humor, of course-but decided against it. His good spirits were too precious to risk. Dancing with Henry was the best and only option for me. After all, I had to avoid him dancing with his new, not-so-secret mistress. So, I strode over to Henry, watching Isabell with careful eyes as she selected her own partner. She was fashioned as Diligence of all things.
"Master Pride," I said, "Would you care to dance?"
"Of course I would... Anna." He winked at me, smiling mischievously.
The music began, a lively, spirited tune. Dancing beside Henry and I were Mary and Charles Brandon, Beauty and Lust respectively, and Isabell and Master Sloth. I didn't care enough to try to decipher who was dressed as Sloth, I only cared that Isabell was with someone other than my husband.
"I'm sorry about the alliance," I said quietly, "You were right about Francis backing out of it. Perhaps in the future we can approach the prospect of an alliance with them again."
"Yes, perhaps," Henry agreed halfheartedly. I could tell he wasn't interested in discussing the French.
"Have you found any matches for Katherine?" I asked, directing the conversation away from Anne's failed engagement.
"Actually, I have." Henry smiled, and I perked up immediately.
"Who is it?" I questioned eagerly, "Is it someone I've met?"
"No, I don't believe you've met the family," Henry answered, "The boy's name is James Whitewood, the future Duke of Wessex. Born the same year as Katherine, only four months older if I remember correctly. His grandfather rose to prominence during the Wars of the Roses. James will be the third Duke of Wessex."
"And the King of England, if he ends up marrying Kate," I added, a satisfied smile on my face. If Katherine was betrothed to James, then Henry would have a male heir of sorts. "Bring the Whitewood family to court. It is only proper that we meet them before seriously entertaining the idea."
"I've met them, Anna," he reminded me, "They're good people. Devoted to England, not too greedy."
"Oh, how good," I said cheerfully.
We glided around the room gracefully, dancing elegantly along with the other twelve people. Quite a marvelous scene, I thought. It was definitely a pretty dance, and easy, too. Dancing was not my specialty, so dances catered towards the less coordinated and graceful always relieved my anxieties.
"The oldest Whitewood child is nineteen," Henry said abruptly, clearly stuck on that topic, "Her name is Rebecca. Would you like to make her one of your ladies?"
I nodded, a bit reluctantly. "What is she like?"
"She's a sweet girl, good-tempered, too," he answered, "She would be a good companion, I think. She even acted as a nurse of sorts for our wounded during the border dispute."
"I can't wait to meet them, especially Rebecca. I'll summon the Whitewood family in the morning," I decided.
Henry smiled at me. For the first time in quite some time, we were completely happy. Not a thing was standing in the way of our happiness. Except Isabell, I thought, remembering the spectacle Isabell was making of herself. It was a poor decision on her behalf, though it was hard to deny the king things he wanted. I married him because I was too scared to say no, so perhaps, a small, sensible part of my mind whispered, Isabell felt pressured to participate in the affair. Of course, there was only one way to know for sure. I needed to confront Isabell. Sure, it was risky and came with the possibility of severe consequences but I had to know. For a time, Isabell and I were friends. I couldn't stand not knowing what was happening with our friendship.
The dance lasted about five more minutes, no more than that. Masks were removed. I was criminally underwhelmed at the reveal of my partner, not that I minded. The masque was to be followed by a banquet, which left me only a few moments to speak with Isabell. I strode over to her purposefully, and grabbed her wrist. I pulled her aside, turning a corner so that we were alone. The party progressed, and she looked thoroughly disappointed that she was missing it. However disappointed she may have been, I was her mistress and she couldn't express that outright. I knew, though. Her expression gave it away, like she wasn't even attempting in the slightest to hide it.
"I know about what you're doing," I said bluntly, "With Henry, I mean. I know that you've been in his bed. And, speaking as your friend, and his wife, I'd advise against it. He'll tire of you, like the others, and you'll be left with a tarnished reputation. You don't come from a noble family, so if people find out about this, you'll lose everything I've granted you."
"And speaking as my queen?" Isabell challenged, raising a dainty eyebrow.
"Speaking as your queen, if this affair doesn't end, then I'll... well, I don't know what I'll do but it won't be good for either of us," I said, "Look at what happened to Mary Boleyn- a child out of wedlock, a loveless marriage forged out of convenience and deceit. You don't want to share that fate."
"But what if he comes to care for me?" she pressed. Based on the tone of her voice, she seemed so innocently sincere. She really believed that he could love her. Why she thought that, I couldn't fathom. After all, if my love for the king stemmed from shared interests and mutual respect, what would her love become? It was forged from stolen glances and secret nights of betrayal spent together. It couldn't have any real meaning, not really.
"He won't, Isabell. You aren't his first mistress, and there is no evidence to show that you will be his last," I said, "Save yourself while you still can. I won't be able to help you if you are cast out of the palace for behaving like a whore."
Her hopeful smile was wiped off of her pale, freckly face, almost like she was offended by my words. They were true, so there was really no offense to them. Perhaps I'd been a bit harsh, but saying it nicely would imply that it wasn't such a delicate matter. At least I was able to efficiently get my point across.
"I can't believe that I thought, after everything, that we could be friends. You clearly don't care about my happiness, only your own. You have everything, Anna! Why can't I have this one thing?" she snapped at me. With each word, there was a dramatic hand motion to match. "You're so selfish."
"You're the one sleeping with my husband!" I retorted quickly, "If anyone is being selfish in this situation, it's you."
Isabell shook her head, fighting off tears. She tried to storm off, but I grabbed her wrist before she could get away.
"No. You're going to compose yourself, return to the banquet, and act like a decent person," I instructed, "That is an order from your queen, not a suggestion from your friend."
She glared at me. If looks could kill, I would have been swimming in a pool of my own blood. "Yes, Your Majesty," she said, a bit of sarcasm laced in her otherwise pleasant sounding voice.
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The banquet was extravagant. A roast swan was placed in the center of the table, right in front of Henry and I. The table was lined with all kinds of food- from plain dishes like pottage to luxurious meats like venison. Henry looked excited, and so I tried valiantly to match his level of happiness.
In the midst of the meal, he turned to me. "Where did you go after the dance?" he asked, "You disappeared. I was worried."
"A tear in my gown," I lied.
"Is that why Lady Isabell was with you? I noticed her absence as well," Henry said.
The mention of Isabell was like a kick in the stomach. Clearly, I underestimated his care for her. He had to have been paying at least a small bit of attention to her in order to notice her departure. I realized that confronting her could have been detrimental. Isabell was proving to be a bigger obstacle than I anticipated. I had to fix it, and quickly.
"Yes, she was helping me fix it," I responded, adding to the stack of lies.
"Oh," Henry replied simply. I couldn't decipher what he was thinking or feeling at that moment, which was obnoxious. "Well, I'm glad it was resolved. It is such a nice costume. I would hate to see it be ruined."
"It was an easy fix, nothing too complicated," I said, continuing on with the lie.
We were met with a silence, and continued on with our meal for a bit. My bites were scare and sporadic, as I was lost in thought. Isabell was sitting with my other ladies in waiting, looking awfully smug. I knew what she was planning on doing. She was going to venture back to the king's chambers, hoping to worm her way into his heart. What she was trying to accomplish, I couldn't figure out, but I knew it was dangerous. I couldn't imagine a scenario where things would end well for me. So, it became very clear what I needed to do to keep Isabell out of Henry's bed.
I needed to get him in mine. It was important that people knew he'd spent the night with me, too, but that would come later.
"Henry," I whispered slyly, "I was hoping that we could continue the celebration later."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"In my chambers," I clarified.
He looked at me, a mischievous, youthful grin on his face. "What an excellent suggestion," he said.
I returned his grin, but felt relieved more than anything else. Isabell's plan had to be stopped somehow. At least my path to victory was enjoyable.
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published november 18, 2020