Thank you for your lovely reviews. Just a reminder that - in this story - Anne left the English court in November 1532. By that time she had already been intimate with Henry numerous times; for example, on the day of Wolsey's death and the two were together in the woods, Henry perfomed coitus interruptus at Anne's insistence in an effort to stop him conceiving a child with her. Also, I'm going to apologise now for what will be sporadic updates. I start my English degree in two weeks and I have a hell of a lot of pre-course reading to do.

Château of Fontainebleau, South of Paris –Late November, 1535

It took little over a month for the English Ambassador to receive notification of King Henry VIII's wishes concerning the Duchess of Calais, due to the winter storms that raged almost constantly over the English Channel. In comparison to some seas, the expanse of water separating England and France was narrow in width and shallow in depth, but the cooling climate made the sea treacherous, and it was not unusual for even the savviest of sailors to run aground rocks when a storm blew in.

In the six weeks that had passed, the French court had also moved to the Château of Fontainebleau, one of King Francis' favourite residences, for the Christmastide season.

Though the weather did not reach such chilly temperatures in France as it did in England, it was still pleasantly frosty and the rural location meant that the court could better enjoy the French countryside in the midst of winter.

The Château of Fontainebleau wasn't far from Paris, but as the temperature dropped further and the land became cloaked in white, the inner-city seemed an entire world away.

With their outdoor activities limited, the Court retreated inside. Festive masques and pageants were organised and rehearsed. The men gambled more, losing and winning and losing again. The children grew restless; there was only so much entertainment to be found in the walls of a Court, and though their tutors pressed them to concentrate on their lessons, the boys especially were easily distracted by the promise of sweetmeats and candies.

...

The English Ambassador hovered awkwardly at the entrance to Anne's chambers. As a Duchess, and a woman who held the King's favour, Anne had grand rooms, with a spacious ante-chamber that had an generously sized area for her to entertain visitors, a large dining table with ornately carved wooden chairs, and a seating area close to a magnificent fireplace. Leading off of this grand chamber were several bedrooms, for Anne and her sister. As was the custom, the children all slept in the royal nursery – a specific portion of the Château wherein they could run reasonably wild, without disturbing the balance of the more adult side of the court.

The man appeared startled when a maid-in-waiting exited, his presence surprising her to such a degree that she dropped the parcels in her arms and blushed furiously.

"Forgive me, Excellency," the woman began, "I was not expecting to see you." She crouched down and began to gather the items, her face reddening further when he bent down to help her. "You do not need to-"

The man waved off her protests. "The Duchess; she is in her rooms?"

Cautiously, the maid nodded. "With her sister, sir; they are preparing gifts for the children." Having collected up the parcels, the two stood. "Thank you for your assistance, Excellency. With your permission..."

He gestured for her to leave, and sighed heavily, not at all looking forward to the conversation that would follow.

...

"His Excellency, the English Ambassador."

Anne slowly inclined her head, her expression guarded. "Your Excellency," she said with a polite smile, "Won't you sit down? My sister and I are almost finished."

The two sisters finished their conversation with the cloth merchant, and having been assured that their orders would be ready in time, they paid the man generously. He bowed deeply – and unnecessarily flamboyantly, the English Ambassador noticed with distaste – and excused himself.

Mary Carey lifted herself slightly from the table, but a swift glance from Anne made her retake her seat. Mary nodded at one of the maids. "Some wine for his Excellency."

The Duchess turned to the Ambassador, a tired expression on her face. "Unburden yourself, Excellency."

"I have a message from his Majesty." He appeared slightly reluctant, and Anne seized upon it.

"Then, I beseech you, do not deliver it."

Reaching into an inside pocket for a crumpled piece of parchment, the Ambassador sighed resignedly. "I am sure your Grace knew that this day was coming."

Anne closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself. "Then my suspicions were correct. The Duke of Suffolk has informed King Henry of my friendship with King Francis."

"Yes," the Ambassador replied quietly, "His Majesty is most disturbed by such news."

"But there is something else," Anne acknowledged, taking a sip from her wine. "Isn't there?"

The Ambassador nodded. "The child was mentioned," He allowed, "The King would very much like to meet him."

Mary Carey sniffed. "Of course he does," she said bitterly, angry at King Henry for the way he had ignored her sister for the past couple of years and at the Duke for ruining their peaceful lives. "Damn you, Charles Brandon."

Anne placed a hand over her sister's. "Be still, Mary. It was only a matter of time."

"His Majesty King Henry requests that you return to court." The Ambassador slowly opened the parchment, smoothing the wrinkles and placing it onto the table in front of Anne. "He understands that the weather and tides will hinder your return, but hopes to see you at Whitehall by April."

"Requests?" Anne repeated, alert to the phrasing of the note, "Hopes to see me? He does not demand my presence?"

Correctly interpreting her words, the Ambassador pulled a face. "Your Grace, it would be unwise to offend his Majesty by not fulfilling his wishes."

"I shall not go without a summons," the Duchess replied steadily, inclining her head. "Whilst it is true I do miss the English court, and my brother George, it is not a place that I am anxious to see again." She shook her head. "No, Excellency. His Majesty will have to insist upon my return. You may tell him that King Francis will be reluctant to dismiss me from court without an official request; such a thing is true, in any case."

"Your Grace..." the man said uneasily, "His Majesty will be most displeased by your response."

Anne's eyes narrowed haughtily. "I care not," she answered with a cold smile, "Perhaps if the King had written to me himself, I would think differently. Perhaps if my presence were required for in an official capacity, I would think differently. But he insults me by sharing his desires in such a manner. I am the Duchess of Calais, not a mere lady in waiting."

"Anne," Mary interjected with a gentle touch to her sister's arm, "He is still the King of England."

"I care not," Anne repeated, but her tone had lost some of its ire. She was quiet for a moment, lost in thought, and a deep sadness swam in her eyes. She lightly touched Mary's hand and nodded her head towards her jewellery chest. Mary stood and retrieved the chest, placing it down onto the table. Anne delved inside, producing a small item wrapped in velvet. "Please give this to his Majesty as a Christmastide gift," she said softly. "But do not do so in the presence of others. His official gift was sent back to England with the Duke of Suffolk, but I would like you to deliver this personally, Excellency."

The Ambassador raised an eyebrow. "As your Grace wishes."

Anne looked a little embarrassed. "I am aware that there is only a short time left until the gifts are received at court, but I trust that your Excellency has a way to ensure that this gift reaches England in time? Deliver it together with my refusal to come to court, and ask his Majesty to open the gift before giving his response."

Avoiding her sister's gaze, Anne stood, and the Ambassador followed her example. "Your Grace, I will do as you have asked."

"Thank you, Excellency. Return to England, now, at my behest. There is no business in France for you at this time. It must be long since you have seen your family and I do not doubt that your wife misses you." Anne watched as he pocketed the velvet parcel. "Keep it safe," she murmured, "It is for the King's eyes alone."

The Ambassador bowed. "Your Grace; Lady Carey: I bid you a merry Christmastide."

Having waited until the Ambassador had left, Mary turned to her sister with words on her lips, but Anne held up a hand. "Your disapproval is evident enough, sister. Peace, now, I beg you. I am weary.

Greenwich Palace, London. –December, 1535

"Your Majesty, his Excellency Sir Nicholas Wotton."

Henry looked up sharply as the English Ambassador to France entered his ante-chamber. He had been most surprised when the Ambassador had requested a private audience, aware of the news that the man was carrying. He wasn't entirely sure how he was expecting Anne to reply. He missed her - by God, not a day passed that he didn't long to hear her laugh or see the hidden depths of her stormy blue eyes - but he was almost frightened of seeing her again, unaware of her feelings towards him after three long years apart.

The Ambassador bowed deeply. "Your Majesty."

Impatiently, Henry gestured for the man to begin.

"I regret to inform your Majesty that the Duchess of Calais has declined your invitation to return to the English court," the man began, his voice only wavering slightly as he spoke - something Henry gave him credit for.

"Of course she did," Henry muttered, resting his head in his hands, resisting the urge to break something expensive. "I suppose she gave a perfectly diplomatic and well prepared excuse?"

The Ambassador struggled for a moment. "Her Grace said that the King of France would be unwilling to excuse her from court without an official summons."

Henry clenched his jaw. "Anything else?"

"Yes, your Majesty." The Ambassador produced the small velvet parcel and knelt before King Henry, offering the gift up to him. "From the Duchess, your Majesty. She requested that I give it to you privately, in person."

Henry's brow furrowed, but he took the gift. When he noticed that the Ambassador was staring up at him, clearly interested to see what was within, he clutched it to his torso possessively and flicked his fingers in dismissal. "I will see you in the morning, Ambassador."

When he had been left alone, Henry slowly opened the tiny silk button that held the parcel closed. He slid his finger inside and blinked when he came into contact with a ring and a small piece of parchment. Made of the finest silver, it looked just about large enough to fit his smallest finger. Admiring the oval-shaped sapphire that adorned the ring, Henry slid it onto his finger, pleased that it seemed to fit so perfectly, as if commissioned specifically for him. The longer he stared at the jewel, the more colours he saw within, and began to see that the colour of the sapphire was the exact shade of blue of Anne's eyes.

He traced his thumb slowly over the gem, absurdly grateful for the token, and recalled the parchment that had accompanied the ring.

The wax seal was stamped with her crest, and he was reluctant to disturb the image, but his curiosity won out, and Henry opened the letter without much more of a thought.

For a moment, he was overcome by the significance of the event. It was the first time he had received anything directly from Anne – he didn't include the official Christmastide gifts that she had sent each year, as well chosen as they had been – and the thought made his stomach twist.

He unfolded the parchment, surprised that she had managed to fit such a large piece into such a small parcel.

Henry traced her handwriting, the elegant script making his lips curl into a small smile.

"To His most gracious Majesty,

Great Sovereign Lord, I wish you a happy Christmastide and a pleasant New Year, and hope that this gift finds your Majesty well. I pray that your Majesty can forgive my crude writing, as I write in candlelight. I am greatly humbled by your Majesty's continued gratitude and grace towards me, and your health and happiness is in my every prayer.
Your Majesty's presence is as the sun, and I find myself in sorrowful moonlight. I can offer only this verse, and hope its meaning expresses my feelings far better than my own humble self is able.

'The mountains may be removed and the hills may shake,
But My loving kindness will not be removed from you,
And My covenant of peace will not be shaken.
O afflicted one, storm-tossed, and not comforted,
Behold, I will set your stones in antimony,
And your foundations I will lay in sapphires.'

From your faithful and obedient servant,
Yours, always, with true heart.
Anne Boleyn."

He was most surprised by the contents of the letter and by the gift itself.

Sapphires were associated with sincerity and faithfulness, and he knew in that moment, almost for certain, that Anne was not King Francis' mistress.

The letter puzzled him, for there seemed to be a great deal many of Anne's intimate thoughts within the script, and yet it was so carefully phrased that he was slightly confused by the true message contained within. Anne Boleyn was such a skilled courtier that, even he, her lover for many years, wanted to laugh at the thought that she was still able to confuse him. Her letter was suggestive in many ways, and he was greatly appeased at the thought of Anne writing to him in candlelight, for surely it suggested that she had been thinking of him in the evening when it had been dark. From the letter, he took that she missed him, although he wasn't quite able to determine if she missed his love or being at his Court. And she had not acknowledged the existence of the boy, the child who was now becoming infamously known as 'Anne Boleyn's Bastard' in the English court, even though the boy had never set foot in England, nor had his parentage been confirmed.

The verse, however, inspired much hope, and the way she had signed her name, "Yours, always, with true heart, Anne Boleyn," indicated that she loved him still. Yet, in spite of her pretty words, she had made no mention of her desire to return to the English court, or return to him, and it was most troubling. As always, she had moved forward but drawn back, like the dancer that she was; one step in his direction, two steps to the side, moving her out of his reach.

This would not do, Henry decided.

He needed answers urgently, and if Moses would not come to the mountain...

Château de Versailles, Versailles. – February, 1536

The time it took for Henry's reply to arrive was surprising, and Anne was starting to feel concerned that he was planning on delivering his summons in person.

Because, of course, a summons would soon be arriving. Henry was not one to be denied, and she had been either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid to turn up her nose at his desires. For him to arrive in France, without her having received forewarning... It would be a disaster.

...

Two weeks into February, the English Ambassador landed with the tide, clutching a most important message for the Duchesse du Calais.

He delivered it with the upmost haste, almost forgetting his obligatory audience with King Francis to announce his return to the English court. Throughout said audience, Francis' glared at him, his penetrating brown eyes burning into the fine silk of his tunic, as if he could see the folded parchment stuffed into an inside pocket and read what was written upon it.

No doubt Anne had informed the French King of the message that the English ambassador would be carrying and if King Henry had, in fact, demanded that she return to the English court and King Francis refused to allow it, such a thing would be seen as an act of war. The Ambassador was not at all looking forward to the fall out.

He bowed hastily and waited to be excused. Francis left him bent at the waist for much longer than was necessary, and when the monarch eventually gave his consent for the Ambassador to straighten, his mouth was set in an angry grimace.

"Excellency, we have been told of a plot to steal from our court," Francis barked impatiently, his jaw clenching. "Surely you are not a part of such audacious plans?"

The Ambassador bowed again. "Forgive me, your Majesty, if I have caused offence."

Francis frowned. "It is not you that offends us." He flicked his fingers in dismissal and the Ambassador backed away, suddenly desperate to be rid of the parchment in his tunic.

...

"His Excellency, the English Ambassador."

Anne nodded in greeting as the man entered her chambers. "Your Excellency, welcome back."

The Ambassador sighed. "Thank you, Madame." He reached into his pocket and placed the letter on the table. "For you, your Grace – from his Majesty, King Henry." He seemed uncomfortable, and Anne smiled tiredly.

"By all means, Excellency, return to your chambers. No doubt you are weary after your journey; the seas are treacherous at this time of year, are they not?"

Nodding in reply, the Ambassador bowed lowly and made a hasty retreat.

Anne turned her attention to the letter, pulling a face as she unfurled it.

"Dearest Anne,
We hope that these words reach you in good time, and find you well.

I must express my gratitude at your thoughtful gift, and feel ashamed that I did not commission something equally as beautiful as a token of my affection for you. It pleases me that you take these words, instead, as a promise of my devotion to you. I do not hide my love behind pretty verses, Madame, and express it here freely.

Our Ambassador tells us of a child that you have grown fond of; we would like to see this boy with our own eyes. It is our express wish that you meet us at Hampton Court for the Easter celebrations.

Yours, infinitely,
Henry Rex"

Her hands trembled as she read. Well met, Henry Tudor, she thought. There was no mention of Katherine – not that she had expected there to be – and nor was there any inclination of how she would be treated when she returned to court. But there was a demand for her presence at the English court, and she wasn't foolish enough to decline a second time.

Calling in her maids, Anne instructed them to begin to pack up her apartments. If she was to meet Henry at Easter, there was much to be done, and very little time to do it in.

...

TBC