Anne de Valois had been selected to wed Henry Tudor when she was still a little girl; when she was nothing more than a mere lord's daughter. It had been a simple, undeniable fact she had been forced to live with for what felt like most of her life. It didn't, however, mean she had to like any part of that decision. After all, her father hadn't consulted her when he had agreed to the betrothal and had simply expected her to be happy about it just because she was going to wed a prince one day.

But if anybody had even bothered to ask her about her opinions, she would have told them straightforwardly how she'd much rather marry a mere bastard than let a scandalous man like Henry Tudor onto her bed. Even as far away from France, Anne heard all sorts of rumors about her future husband. Rumors that didn't help in the slightest to plant even slightly positive image of him in her head. Which was probably why Anne had escaped from the safety of her room into the marketplace, to let herself forget about the troubles that were to come upon her time to head to England to wed and perform her womanly duties as was only expected due to her position as a princess, sister to the King of France.

It had already been bad enough she was a nobleman's daughter as well as a woman in the world filled with all-knowing, arrogant men whose only purpose seemed to serve in the fact they tended to make her life worse than they already were, but her brother just had to become the fucking King of France because apparently, other options were not to be allowed.

And despite how much happy she had been at first at the prospect of her brother sitting on that throne and wearing that golden crown, Anne's excitements had dulled over time with how less of a time Francis started spending with her now that he had a whole country to take care of. In her most humble opinion, it simply wasn't worth it all.

Anne sighed deeply under her breath as she stalked down the street, just in the time to catch an eye of a very familiar looking uniformed man starting to walk her way. A member of Francis' guardsmen. Anne involuntarily cursed under her breath — she still had places to be, people to meet before she was to head off back home — as she turned on her heel and started walking with an appropriate speed given her current predicament — it wouldn't be wise for her to just break off into a run; it might just backfire on her — as she forced on a small smile upon her face, bidding the good people of France as she stalked down the marketplace quite hurriedly.

Suddenly, someone stepped in front of her to block her escape and growling frustratingly within, while still smiling politely back at him, Anne lifted her head to greet him. "Monsieur." She resisted the urge to grit her teeth because that would be unseemly, and not at all appropriate for a woman of her position.

"Your Royal Highnesses, King Francis had requested your presence in the throne room," The man told her authoritatively and Anne resisted the urge to remind just whom exactly he was talking with here. She was a fucking princess! Not some daughter of a peasant. He couldn't talk to her as if she were beneath him. If anything, he was the one who was beneath her royal self.

"Is that so?" She grinned at him pleasantly.

It wouldn't do for her to lose her temper in such a public place. The gossip that would surely follow would be quite disastrous. "How does Saturday morning sound? Ask that of my brother, shall you? I would make sure to fix up my schedule then."

"Today, Your Royal Highness. He's expecting you right now in his throne room." He informed her urgently. "Come this way. Follow me." Was he ordering her about? Just because he was the head of the king's guard didn't mean he had any right to speak to her that way. This arrogant little — "He's waiting for you. We cannot make him wait for very long. After all, he is the king of France."

"Very well." She lifted her head pointedly at him, chuckling slightly at her misfortune. "Lead the way then."

"Tomorrow morning?" Anne de Valois gasped in the pure disbelief as she stalked around the throne, again and again, the sound of her shoes tapping quite loudly against the floor. "You expect to head off to the journey tomorrow morning? I thought it had been agreed you would give me at least another week to prepare myself, Francis? You made a promise to me!"

Her older brother by five years, Francis de Valois; the King of France appeared to be greatly anxious due to his behavior. "I do know that I made the promise, sweet sister, but urgent matters have taken place in England. And it because utmost important you head off to London as soon as possible." Anne glared at him demandingly, fully expecting him to state his reasons to her from beginning to an end. "According to the letter the soon to be crowned King of England had sent me, King Arthur had passed away a few days ago. And therefore, they are requesting your presence. England needs a queen now that Queen Katherine is no longer able to keep that position."

"What about Princess Mary? Shouldn't she be the one to sit on that throne?"

"It's a temporary arrangement, darling Anne. Right until Princess Mary comes to the age." But even then, she knew, it was highly unlikely that Mary would sit on that throne. England needed a man to sit on that throne. And King Arthur had no son of his own to be able to play that specific role given to him. Henry would sit on the throne until something happens that would force him off the throne. "But that isn't what is important here. You are going to be a queen of England now. And that, my darling sister, I am afraid is more than good enough of a reason to start packing right now."

She was going to become a Queen? Anne cared not for being a princess, but being a Queen was another story altogether. There were things she couldn't accomplish when was a princess that she now could be given the new development in her life. Anne let herself to smile willfully at her brother, lifting her head up proudly. "I'll tell Mary to start packing up my things." She assured him. "We'll head off the first thing in the morning.