Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my OCs. All rights go to Showtime, the creator of The Tudors.

A/N: Hello everyone! As a History major and Tudor geek, I am so happy to start my first Tudor story! This story will be focused on Grace Neville, the niece of Sir Thomas More and a descendent of the Plantagenets. Please review!

Important notes:

Thomas More born 7 February 1478

Henry VIII born June 28, 1491

Anne Boleyn born 1501 or 1507 (?)

Henry and Katherine of Aragorn marry June 11, 1509

Prince Henry Tudor born January 1, 1511, dies February 28, 1511

Grace Neville born March 30, 1514 (OC)

Princess Mary Tudor born February 18, 1516

Utopia published 1516

King Henry VIII begins to take an interest in Anne Boleyn 1525

The Kings Great Matter begins 1528

Sir Thomas More Chancellor of England 1529-1532

Henry and Anne marry; Henry divorces Katherine 1533

Princess Elizabeth is born September 7, 1533

Sir Thomas More arrested April 1534

Ch. 1

"Pride thinks its own happiness shines the brighter by comparing it with the misfortunes of others."
~ Thomas More, Utopia

Tower of London, October 1529

King Henry and Sir Thomas Moore walked side by side in the gardens at Windsor Palace, seemingly engaged in a talk between two friends. However, Thomas was rather self-conscious, eyeing the king suspiciously as if his summons were more important than they seemed. Cardinal Wolsey's fall from grace was evident and his power was rapidly decreasing. He had been stripped of his titles from the king as well as many of his properties. He had now returned to York to focus on his duties as an archbishop, though Thomas feared his end was near. Thomas also feared that whatever Henry had summoned him for, he would not agree.

"Wolsey pleaded guilty to all the charges made against him," Henry announced, more pleased then upset that his lifelong friend was now the object of his anger.

"Yes, I heard," Thomas replied, "And sentenced to prison," he added. He did not agree with Henry's judgment whatsoever, a grim look appearing on his face.

"I have rescinded his punishment. I've even agreed to let him keep the Bishopric of York. With a pension of 3000 angels." Henry chuckled at his joke while Thomas only nodded. "You see what kind of monster I am?" He placed his hand on Thomas's shoulder, teasing his friend. A thin line was plastered on Thomas's mouth, replacing his usual cheery disposition and smile. Henry continued, "I need to appoint a new chancellor. Someone I can trust." Thomas's face took on an unhealthy shade of white as Henry revealed the reason for his summons. He looked away in exasperation. "You're trained as a lawyer and in royal service. You have international prestige. The friend of Erasmus, the greatest humanist in all England." Thomas continued to appear uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going in. He fiddled with his hat, his hands shaking nervously. He wanted, no needed to say no. "You have a fine, sharp mind." Henry proceeded to compliment his friend, sure of himself that Thomas would accept.

"No," Thomas responded, loud and clear, beginning to walk away from his friend. He did not want the position, knowing it was a dangerous job after what happened to Cardinal Wolsey. He was putting himself and his family at risk if he accepted.

"No what?" Henry questioned, irritated with his friend's response. He didn't understand why Thomas was acting so unlike himself. Here he was, the King of England, asking one of his closest friends to accept the highest position in government, Chancellor of England.

"No, I don't want to be Chancellor," Thomas revealed, now with an explanation for his "no." He turned to face Henry.

"You will do as I command!" Henry's words were authoritative and filled with force, but seeing the distressed look on Thomas's face, he stopped and let out another chuckle. He began to try and persuade Thomas to accept, knowing that matters of state had upset Thomas as of late. "Listen, Thomas. I know you have scruples concerning my divorce. And I swear to you, it will only be dealt with by those whose consciences agree with it. I'll only use you for other things and I will never let it molest your conscience." Thomas still looked uncomfortable, his face turning away from Henry to the ground and back again nervously. "Look, Tom," Henry continued, grabbing his friend pleadingly and urging him to walk with him again. "I want you, nay, I command you, in all the things that you do to look to God first, and only then to me." Henry held his hand out to Thomas, waiting for a handshake. Thomas's mind scrambled for a moment, not knowing what else he could say. He did not want to accept, but seeing hope in the matter and how he might be able to help his friend, he shook Henry's hand, sealing the deal. Sir Thomas More was now Chancellor of England.

Warwick Castle, November 1529

"Uncle Thomas! Uncle Thomas!" Fifteen-year old Grace Neville had seen her Uncle Thomas More coming up the drive to their manor in Warwickshire, a surprise visit for she had not expected to see her uncle until Christmastide. She hurried from her chambers and into the hall, her governess running behind her, scolding her for her unladylike behavior. Reaching the stairs, she charged down them two at a time and ran into the opening of the manor, meeting her uncle as he arrived in the courtyard.

Thomas More dismounted from his horse, smiling as he saw his niece running towards him. He caught her in an embrace, swinging her around before placing back on her feet. 'Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" he spoke, lifting her chin up with his hand so he could view her features better. "You look just like your mother, bless her soul." Grace blushed at the compliment, knowing her mother would be pleased that a part of her remained in the world after her death a year ago.

Grace's mother, Anne More, was the sister of Sir Thomas More and married to Richard Neville, son of Constance Say, daughter of Elizabeth Cheney and Sir John Say, and George Neville. George Neville was the son of Katherine Beauchamp, sister of Anne Beauchamp, and Edward Neville, brother to Richard Neville whom was the Earl of Warwick. Through her marriage, Anne had risen through society as the daughter of a lawyer to the wife of a courtier, a descendent of Plantagenets. With the death of his distant cousin in 1499, Richard became the Duke of Warwick, Henry VII having decided that his lineage was no longer a threat to the throne. Besides, Richard held a disability, losing sight in one eye during a hunting accident in his youth and he lived a life of seclusion that did not involve politics unless the king summoned him to court. He was quite similar to Arthur Plantagenet, the illegitimate son of Edward IV, whose life had been spared because of his allegiance to the English Crown.

"What are you doing here Uncle?" Grace questioned, noticing her uncle's demeanor changing immediately. His smiling face turned to that seriousness. "Uncle?" she asked again, worried at his behavior.

"No reason to worry my darling. I just need to speak with your father about some court news. No need to mind your pretty head."

"Will you come and read Utopia to me afterwards?" Thomas chuckled at his niece's request.

"Of course. Now off you go. Your governess seems quite displeased with you." Turning her around, Grace grimaced at her governance's facial expression and hands on hips, clearly upset with her for running off. Thomas gave a little push, forcing her to be returned to the woman. A scolding began and Thomas chuckled as Grace was led away and back to her lessons.

Richard Neville soon appeared in the doorway, an understanding look in his eye as he took in his brother-in-law's countenance. "This is why I don't dwell in court life often, nor my children. I prefer to stay in the country for a reason Thomas. I'm sure you know why." He stepped forward, embracing Thomas in a brotherly manner. "Come. Let us go to my study."

Windsor Castle, September 1530

The English Court was in full swing, many diplomats arriving from foreign countries to meet with the King of England. Many of the courtiers were gathered in the main hall, the women gossiping amongst themselves and the men discussing politics and war. Queen Katherine's ladies were among them as well as the Ambassador from the Holy Roman Empire, Eustace Chapuys.

As Anne Boleyn and her ladies entered the corridor, it became deadly silent, all eyes upon the King of England's mistress. Chapuys and Anne's brother, George Boleyn, stood in the corner of the hall, chatting when Anne entered. All courtiers bowed to Anne, rather by force than in respect, fearing the King's wrath.

"What is it? What has she done?" Chapuys questioned, wondering why such a scene was evolving in front of them.

"She is wearing purple. And purple is the color of royalty," George responds, his tone serious.

Anne halts in front of Katherine of Aragon's ladies, her purple wardrobe and purple jewels glinting in the sun that shone through the paned window. She sent them a superior look that commanded attention. "You know, I sometimes wish that all Spaniards were at the bottom of the sea."

"Mistress Boleyn," the head lady-in-waiting says with loathing, "you should not abuse the queen's honor with such language." The word "honor" was emphasized, hinting that the lady believed Anne to have had sexual contact with the king, henceforth, the queen was more honorable as the wife of the king.

"I care nothing for Katherine. I would rather see her hanged than acknowledge her as my mistress," Anne exclaims with an edge of contempt. An outrage begins at her vulgar language and she begins to exit through the archway, but not before Sir Thomas More, now Chancellor, and Richard Neville of Warwick appear.

Richard gazes at Anne with a look of warning in his eye. He neither cares for nor dislikes the Howard/Boleyn faction at court, choosing to stay out of politics and only coming to court when the king commanded it. "I would be careful of what you say Mistress Boleyn, for if you disrespect the Queen's honor, you are also disrespecting the King. And since such a man holds you in high esteem, I would hope the lady he chooses to spend his time with would not disgrace that honor so freely."

Anne halts again, a puzzled and slightly irritated look on her face as she tries to figure out the man's identity and why he inserted himself into a private conversation. She looks to the Chancellor for an answer, eyeing More with contempt as she dislikes the man working closest to her king. "Mistress Anne," says Thomas as he inserts himself between the two, "may I introduce you to Richard Neville, the Duke of Warwick." Anne's eyes shine with recognition and she holds back the scolding that was on the edge of her tongue. She was in the presence of a man of nobility, a man of royal descent, and her father nor uncle would be pleased if she spoke so boldly to the man. Besides, she had known his daughter, Grace, at the French court when she had been there briefly during the Field of Cloth of gold in 1520 and when she had returned with her father in 1524 when their family was touring Europe. Anne had liked the girl, astonished by her intelligence and eloquence at ten years old.

"Your grace," she says with respect, herself as well as her ladies dipping into a curtsy. Richard merely nods at the woman, neither responding nor wishing to talk. The two men pass by Anne, ending the conversation abruptly, showing the Duke of Warwick's nonchalant attitude to the woman the king held most dear. Anne glares at their backs, but makes no move to stop them. Instead she watches as the courtiers begin gossiping, looking at her with looks of shock on their faces. Not letting herself be present for such humiliation, she quickly storms off. It didn't matter though. The damage had been done. Someone had put the king's mistress in her place.

Hampton Court, February 1531

Praying. That's all anyone seemed to be doing now that the King's Matter had been prolonged for, so long. Katherine of Aragon's position was sinking while Anne Boleyn's star was rising. The church was now prey to the king of England and Thomas More would do anything in his power to protect the rightful Queen of England.

Sir Thomas More enters the grand hall from a side door, his chancellor chain chiming as he walks. Courtiers all speak to him with reverence and bow. "Your grace," they say repeatedly. From their midst appears Ambassador Eustace Chapuys.

"Sir Thomas." Chapuys spots the chancellor immediately, his face lighting up in a friendly manner upon spotting the man. His master liked Thomas More and knew he was in favor of Katherine of Aragon.

"Ambassador Chapuys," More says in a teasing tone, "I thought you had abandoned us." He is more than pleased to see the Emperor's man at court.

Chapuys chuckles. "It's true. I did. Or tried to." His happy voice takes a sad tone now as he reflects on all the Queen's struggles. "In all conscience, I could never abandon Her Majesty. She is the most gracious and wonderful woman in the world." One can tell that he is most loyal to and admires the Queen, just as much as More. "And the saddest," he finishes.

"I agree with you," More says solemnly.

"So does the emperor." More's face turns downward at Chapuys declaration, his eyes wary as he looks around at the court whole Chapuys pulls a letter from his jacket. "He has written this letter of encouragement and support for your efforts on her behalf." Thomas drags Chapuys to a secluded archway, making sure no one is eavesdropping.

"I beg you not to deliver it to me," More reveals, "Although I have given sufficient proof of my loyalty to the king I must do nothing to provoke suspicion." His voice turns to a whisper at the end of his statement. "Considering the times we live in, I don't want to be deprived of the liberty which allows me to speak boldly in private about those matters which concern your master and the queen," he concludes, hoping the ambassador will understand his predicament. He was caught between his conscience and loyalty to the king.

"I understand. You need say no more." Chapuys nods his head in agreement.

Meanwhile, King Henry and Sir Thomas Cromwell reside in the king's private chambers going over documents of state. Henry finishes signing a document and Cromwell closes the binding it is within.

"Thank you, Mr. Cromwell," Henry says, thankful he was finally finished with state documents for now. This type of work bored him to no end. He'd rather be with his mistress.

"Your Majesty," Cromwell responds, bowing as well.

"Sir Thomas More," a page announces, alerting the two men of the chancellor's arrival.

"Cromwell." More acknowledges Cromwell's presence, but walks by him dismissively.

"Sir Thomas." Cromwell again bows to another man of power, noticing the dislike More has for him. It didn't matter as Cromwell saw the man as a rival for power. He leaves the room with the page, leaving the two great men of power alone.

"Sir Thomas."

"Your Majesty."

Business is addressed immediately, Henry seeking advice from not only his chancellor, but one of his closest confidants. "I must tell you, I have received a petition from the members of the House of Commons., complaining of the cruel behavior and abuses of the prelates and the clergy." Thomas stands silently, taking Henry's words in slowly. His face is blank, betraying no emotion for his answer will show how he feels about this accusation. Henry walks around the table to lean against it nonchalantly. "Thomas, people are asking for freedom from clerical rule."

Thomas responds clearly and strongly, "Your Majesty knows very well that I have always condemned the abuses of the clergy when they have been brought to light. As your chancellor, I have worked hard to eliminate them and purify our Holy Church." His vice falters at the end of his words.

"But?" Henry questions.

"You know where I stand. You've always known." Thomas speaks freely, Henry sighing at the same answer he always gives when it concerns church matters. "I cannot condone this newfangled vision of private belief and personal grace. For me, the Church is the permanent and living sign of God's presence. It is a visible, palpable community. Not just a few brethren gathered in secret rooms." Thomas' voice is pleading and passionate, almost desperate as he urges the king to listen to reason. He heads to leave, but Henry's words halt him.

"Then you will speak against me?" Henry's voice is laced with a hint of anger.

Thomas turns to address his king. "My loyalty and love for Your Majesty is so great that I will never say a word against you in public. So help me God." He leaves, leaving Henry to contemplate his greatest friend's wise words.

Middleham Castle

"This is an outrage, Richard. The king had made himself head of the church, but only by a default vote. Fisher is against it, as I am, but I will not speak out against his majesty publicly." More paces angrily in his brother-in-law's study, having taken the time to remove himself from court and relax for a time at Middleham Castle in North Yorkshire. His face is red and creases in his forehead show his anger at the king's disrespect towards the Pope and God himself.

"The king will do as he pleases, Thomas," Richard replies. He sits before the fireplace, his hunting dogs at his feet. Unlike More, he remains calm and contained, though his eyes hold a glint of wariness in them. "We must continue to pray that God will watch over him and lead him down a different path."

Thomas nods at Richard's words, halting his pacing and running a hand over his tired face. "Is Grace still with the Princess Mary?" he questions. Grace had been recommended by her uncle to be a companion to the Princess Mary while she resided in Ludlow Castle, separated from her mother for the last few years.

"They have become great friends and Grace treats her as a sister. In these dark times I fear they may be separated if the king's mistress succeeds in becoming queen," Richard replies, his tone turning dark. "I fear her majesty is losing hope. We must continue to pray for the king's return to her," he continues, "for if not, her life and her daughter's will be hell."

"I pray it will not come to that, Richard. I do everything in my power to aide such a gracious lady and I hope by efforts are not in vain." Thomas finally sits next to his brother-in-law, finishing his frantic pacing. The men sit side by side, staring into the fire as they thought of what might come to pass.

Bishopric of Rochester

Within the kitchens of Bishop Fisher's manor, a cook stands alone as the fire burns brightly in the room. Its quite warm and the man wipes his arm across his forehead to remove away the perspiration. Looking around, he checks one more time to make sure no one is around before pulling a vial of poison from his shirt. He pours it into the contents of the cauldron he stands in front of, stirring it thoroughly.

A servant boy enters the dining room, holding a silver vessel filled with hot soup. He balances it carefully and places it gently on a side table as the Bishop and his guests, mainly clerics, converse.

"I wanted to thank Your Grace for your speech to convocation. It was well said and very brave," Thomas More speaks genuinely, admiration in his voice for the man who stood up to the king during the meeting concerning the king as the Head of the Church of England.

"I spoke only truth," Bishop Fisher replies. His voice is filled with disbelieve as he speaks of the king. "I believe that the caveat so far as the law of Christ allows does indeed invalidate the whole bill. How can the law of Christ permit a layman, even a king to be head of the Church?" Straying from his conversation, he notices the soup has arrived. "Boy, a little for me." He then begins to recite the prayer of God before him and his guests eat. "Amen" everyone responds in turn before eating their supper.

"I must ask you, Sir Thomas if you still have a mind to resign your office?" Fisher questions. Only More does not eat soup, instead choosing to sip from his wine chalice.

"After the vote, Your Grace, I must confess I was sorely tempted. But, on reflection I am content to stay and fight for Christendom." More's voice if filled with determination as he speaks. He knew in his heart that he would fight until the end for the sake of Queen Katherine and Princess Mary as well as for God.

"Oh, this is excellent news." Fisher is quite pleased with More's words. "As, indeed, is the turning again of the archbishop. I thank God that his conscience has finally driven him to condemn the king's nullity suit. And he has stated his intention to oppose any legislation which might be injurious to the Church." His words are cut off y the sound of choking. The clerics around them clutch their throats desperately as they try to breath. Sir Thomas looks mortified at the scene in front of him. Fisher begins to choke while a cleric collapses to the ground and stops breathing. Fisher soon crashes to the ground from his chair as well, blood pouring from his nose. Thomas rushes over to aid his friend,

"Get a doctor. Fetch a doctor, quick," he yells to the servant boys.

"Help, please help." The boys rush out of the room to find aid.

"God. God," Thomas repeats over and over, horrified at what he is seeing. Only an act of the devil could do such harm. All the clerics are dead around him, except Fisher who barely breathes from his position.

Hampton Court

Sir Thomas stands in the king's presence chamber, relaying the events of what had happened at Bishop Fisher's dinner party. He is tense, his face filled with distress as he narrates his eye witness account. "Four men died of their pains. Bishop Fisher survived only because he ate so little of the soup."

"It's very unfortunate, Sir Thomas," the king responds as he pays more attention to the papers on his desk then his chancellor's words. He barely looks up from his work and Thomas looks at him in disbelieve. His king does not seem to care at all.

"It's more than unfortunate, Your Majesty. Fisher's cook has been arrested. But I must tell you that…" More stutters for a moment, "that rumors abound as to the identity of those who plotted against him." Henry's face looks frustrated as he continues to sign papers.

Henry turns around in his chair, a dangerous look on his face. "Who?" he questions forcefully.

More is reluctant to answer. His eyes turn to the ceiling in frustration. "Wiltshire has been named."

"Boleyn?" Henry eyes are deadly.

"Yes. And Well, some people even blame the Lady Anne." More regrets saying the words as soon as they leave his lips.

Henry explodes as his anger is released from its bottle inside. He slams his hands down on the desk he works at and rises from his position to begin pacing around the room. "Some people will blame her for everything! They will blame her if it rains or if the rains fail. They'll blame her for the barrenness of the queen and for the fact that I love her. They'll blame her for the wind that destroys our crops and the storms that sink our ships. It's all the fault of the Lady Anne." Thomas stands there, listening as his king lets out his rage. He says nothing, but stands in silence. Henry sighs in annoyance before turning towards his friend. "What about you, Sir Thomas? Do you blame her? Do you think she tried to poison Bishop Fisher?"

"Harry, I…." Thomas begins, but is interrupted by Henry's loud and enraged voice.

"The time for Harry is over." Henry is tired, exhausted with all the accusations made at Lady Anne.

"Whoever was to blame the cook, Roose, tried blatantly and almost successfully to poison one of your Majesty's great public servants, a Bishop of our Holy Church, as well as me. If your Majesty were to turn a blind eye to the offence, everyone would be forced to assume that the attempted murders were done with your blessing." Thomas hopes his words will sink it, hopes Henry will see reason and consider what has been said rather then let his pride rule him. The king merely rubs his hand across his face, exasperated. He turns to the window, staring at the light that filters through the glass. His kingdom is in turmoil and he needed to find a solution, quickly, or else his people would turn against him because of Anne Boleyn.

Windsor Palace, July 1531

Anne Boleyn walks through the halls of Greenwich Palace, her ladies following diligently behind. They wore the livery of the queens of England, a crown on the design of their dresses. Anne wears a dress of blue satin, a golden cross around her neck, though many believed she was anything, but a pious lady. Many courtiers bow and curtsy as she passes. "Lady Anne," one lady responds. Another says, "My lady."

Turning into a hallway, she spots a page handling a pile of linen in his hands. Puzzled, she stops the man. "You," she orders. "Hold a moment. Where are you taking this linen?" she questions.

"To the Queen's Majesty." The page does not hesitate with his answer, but replies as if the answer is obvious.

"Why?" Anne questions skeptically.

"To make shirts for His Majesty. She always has done."

"She still makes his shirts?" An edge of hurt is evident in Anne's voice. They aren't just shirts to her, but a symbol of Katherine and Henry's marriage and the threat Katherine still poses.

"Yes, Mistress Anne." The word mistress is emphasized by the page, making Anne's blood boil. She makes a hand gesture at him to continue his duties, herself turning on her heel and heading to the king's chamber to discuss the matter of the king's shirts.

King Henry sits in private chambers holding a rosary in his hand, contemplating the affairs of the kingdom in his head. He had a huge burden on his shoulders and the stress was affecting his conscience, as Katherine said it would all those years ago in the Court of Bishops at the Black Friars Church. He rubs his hand against his face in frustration.

"Sweetheart." He spots Anne entering his chambers and he rises from his seat, a smile arising on his face, but the sour look on Anne's face changes his demeanor immediately.

"How could you?" Anne questions forcefully.

"What?" Henry holds his arms out in question.

"Your shirts. She still makes your shirts. How could you let her?" Anne is more than angry as she yells at her king.

"I hadn't even thought about it." Indeed, Henry hadn't. It wasn't even one of his priorities now. He was more concerned with matters of the state then his wife making his shirts. He moves into his bed chambers, Anne following behind angrily.

"You told me there was nothing intimate between you anymore." Anne continues to yell.

"There isn't. What's intimate? They're just shirts, for God's sake." Henry's anger is rising as his mistress scolds him for some entirely unknown reason.

"No, they're not just shirts. They are you and me. They are you and her." Anne points between her and Henry and then points outside the room roughly, emphasizing her point. With Katherine at court, she was still number two.

"I don't understand." Henry sighs, now irritated at Anne's actions. He clearly does not get what she is trying to show him.

"Then you ought to." Anne's voice is tense as she speaks. She shakes her head in incredulity. "It's so hard, when we're to be married, but she's still here. You can't have three people in a marriage. Why can't you see that?" She is rather distressed in her tone, trying to get Henry to understand her reasoning.

"Why can't you understand that I have more things to think about than my shirts?" Henry slams his hands down on the bed, enraged that Anne would have the nerve to grit her teeth at him as she spoke. The argument is over, his anger ruling out in the end. He leaves his chambers abruptly, Anne glaring at his retreating back.

Bishopric of Rochester

"The king has agreed to a new and harsh treatment of poisoners," Thomas More relays to Bishop Fisher as the bishop recovers from his near death from poison. "They're to be boiled alive. He is wise to have dealt so severely in this case. But he cannot avoid some suspicion. At least against the Lady and her father." More agrees with the punishment, yet his conscience urges him to consider that someone else is responsible for the matter. The king will be partially blamed, but the finger of the people will point at the Lady Anne.

Bishop Fisher relaxes in his bed, his voice raspy as he converses with More. "We are all in the hands of God. But I worry that, while I lie here uselessly the king may proceed with his divorce since he has given himself the power." Genuine concern is laced in Fisher's voice. He is no use to God laying in his bed.

More responds, "I was told that at the last council the king became angry and demanded to know what would happen if he went ahead and married Anne without the pope's permission."

"And what did they say?" questions Bishop Fisher.

"Only Boleyn supported him. Not even his friend Brandon," More answers.

"Thank God." Both men have looks have relief on their face. However, More knows this will only last so long before the king looses patience.

Greenwich Palace

King Henry bursts into his wife's chambers, startling all her ladies who bow as he enters. They are frightened by his sudden entry, but only respond with the simple "majesty" greeting before they depart the room to leave the couple alone. Katherine emerges from her

"Katherine," Henry speaks. His voice is sharp and commands attention.

Katherine appears unfazed. "Husband. How are you feeling?" she questions.

"What?" Henry is taken aback by the question.

Katherine is genuinely concerned for Henry's health, stating, "They told me you are suffering from a toothache which is a terrible pain. And someone even said you had a touch of gout." Henry rolls his eyes at the notion while his jaw clenches.

"Of course, I don't have gout. I don't know why you even listen to such stupid rumors." Henry's voice is filled with irritation at her words. Court gossip causes nothing, but trouble with the women in his life.

"Because I care for you." Katherine's words sting Henry, a guilty expression appearing on his face as her words strike his very core. But, before she sees the emotion, it vanishes, and his resolve hardens as he gets on what with what he was there to do.

"Catherine, you're going to have to stop making my shirts." Henry's words are concise and to the point.

"I thought you liked the shirts I made for you. I see you are wearing one." Katherine reaches for Henry, but he yanks his hand away before she can feel the cuff of his shirt she was reaching for. "Henry…" Katherine continues.

"What now?"

"Our daughter Mary has been unwell. She has not kept any food down for eight days now. Do you not think we should visit her?" Katherine attempts one more time to speak to Henry, to search for any compassion he may still hold for her. She sees none.

"You can go and visit the princess if you like. And you can stay there." Henry's voice is void of any emotion. He seems not to care, but only seeks for Katherine to leave.

"Henry, not for our daughter, nor for anyone, would I dream of leaving you. You know my rightful place is by your side." Katherine's words are filled with desperation, but also with determination as she indicates she will not give up her title as queen so easily, nor her position as his wife. Henry departs immediately, Katherine having won the argument for now.

Katherine sat weeping in her carriage as she moved further and further away from court. Henry had sent her away rather suddenly, forbidding her to contact with their daughter. However, he did not relay the news himself, but instead send Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk. Maria de Salinas, Baron Willoughby, comforted her dear friend, hoping the Princess Mary would not suffer the same fate as her mother.

Ludlow Castle August 1531

"Gracie?" the Princess Mary calls from her bed. She had been confined to her room the past few days due to her intense cramping from her bleeding. She suffered from this malady occasionally.

"I'm here Majesty," Grace responds, rising from her chair to place a damp cloth on the princess's warm face.

Mary smiles at her friend, reaching upwards to hold Grace's hand in hers. "What would I do without you Gracie?"

Grace merely smiled back and replied cheerfully, "I hope you may never have to find out Mary." Turning around to return to her stitching, Grace's face turned grim. She had just read the contents of her father's letter. It seemed Anne Boleyn's star continued to rise and would reach its goal soon. Grace just hoped she would not be taken from her friend when she needed her the most.

Comments and feedback welcomed!