Thanks for the reviews, everyone! It makes my day every time I see a new one.

Sorry for the long wait, but this one was a demanding chapter. I hope that it pleases.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Tudors TV show or any of the characters. I guess that history technically owns them, but you know how it goes.

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October 1529

A wave of darkness, save for the thin streams of light from the candle that he held, covered Eustace Chapuys, concealing his presence from those who would kill him if they caught sight of him, regardless of whom his Master was. It was not popular to be a Spaniard during these times; the numerous death threats had shown him that. There had even been attempts on his life. When he had demanded an apology from King Henry, the King laid his large hands on him and threw him out of the privy chambers; he had landed in a sprawl before several laughing Boleyn-supporters.

It was an insult that he refused to let pass.

Things had not gone as he had anticipated - and if he were presumptuous enough, he would boldly think that his Master was of the same mindset as himself. Chapuys had thought that after the Pope's Papal Bull decree that King Henry must return to Queen Catherine, things in England would return to normal - as they should. But the opposite had occurred - and it was unthinkable, unacceptable. King Henry and the Boleyn whore had locked themselves away in the Tower, and rumors said that they were concocting a strategy to break away from Rome - and some even whispered that the Whore was already pregnant with the King's child; it was why she has not been sighted since. They said that the King was so besotted with the Whore that he would annihilate Papal supremacy and create a new religion based heavily on Lutheranism.

The new Lord Chancellor had begun conducting secret meetings with some of the most powerful men in the realm, including the Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk and Earl of Wiltshire - all firm supporters of the Whore. Chapuys had tried to decipher what the meetings were about but every discovery left him full of outrage and dread. That was not all. The Holy Maid had famously declared that if King Henry wed the Boleyn whore, he would die a villain's death and to his horror, Elizabeth Barton was attacked by several disillusioned men after the ceremonies were canceled by His Holiness' just decree. Some dare say, like Chapuys himself, that these men were actually the Chancellor's spies and that the King had ordered Barton's death, but she had narrowly escaped because of God's intervention.

It was egregious.

And it became worse. Since the marriage and coronation that did not happen, Princess Mary was quiet - too quiet. He had thought that she would have been elated - as she should be! The Emperor had worked solely in her interests so that she would be the only heir of King Henry; she would be Queen and through a hopeful marriage to Prince Felipe, the magnificent Hapsburg line would live in the glory of another great country of Christendom. He needed Princess Mary to be receptive and willing for his Master's plans; he needed more time to speak with her, but unfortunately, King Henry had barred him access from speaking to Princess Mary and visiting Queen Catherine in the accursed nunnery since the Pope's Papal Bull.

He could still remember the Chancellor's words when he had requested access to speak to King Henry about his need to speak with Princess Mary and Queen Catherine: 'Do you know what His Majesty would request, Ambassador? He would request that the Emperor cease his wanton actions and order the Pope to allow his lawful marriage to the Marquess of Pembroke. Would that request be accepted by your Master? No, it would not, so your request will never be accepted, Ambassador, for King Henry has only one thought of you and your Master: scheming Spaniards.'

Chapuys' footsteps were light, soundless as he glided across the stone stealthily; he hid in the shadows as his eyes darted, deciphering positions of concealment around him. He could not be caught, especially by the Chancellor's spies; he held no doubt that with England's growing humiliation and resentment for children of Spain, he would be killed gruesomely. King Henry would probably reward his murderers.

Another source of light pierced through the jaded, murky darkness and Chapuys froze; he crouched down and hid his candle behind his cloak, ignoring the almost unbearable heat. When he saw who it was, he swiftly released his flame back into the open and stood to his feet.

"Mr. More," he inclined his head. "I feared that you would not hold your word."

Thomas More frowned, "My word is part of my integrity, Ambassador. To not hold it is unthinkable."

"Yet I have heard that you gave your word to King Henry that you would not act against him. Your friendship, while fractured, is not splintered."

"I never said that. Friendship with any King is unpredictable; it is a falsehood, for I would not call what Henry and I share a friendship. I was a mentor, a teacher - quite like Wolsey. Friendships should not be arduous or conflict-creating… Henry is like a lion. You can tousle his great mane and pull at his ears but the entire time, you can think of nothing else but those deadly claws that can effortlessly cleave you head from shoulders. Ultimately, I would compare it to Jacob wrestling with the angel."

"You never know what the fight is about," he understood; his Master sometimes yelled at him for reasons of which he was unaware.

"Yes. Just as with Cain and Abel, the reason behind the conflict is elusive. Henry has been a good man for many years. When he ascended the throne, it was a time of great joy, for it was the end of the dark times from the reign of his wintry miser father; he had a munificent disposition, but he has changed the company he keeps. Brandon has never been anything more than a sycophant. Now I foresee the dark times returning but even bleaker. I believe it to be because of Anne Boleyn, the Lord Chancellor, and this heathen religion, Lutheranism that is spreading quicker than fire."

"Your King is being led astray by a woman's sleights; many great men were. Adam was taken by one and Solomon by many such - and Samson likewise. Delilah dealt him his doom, pilfering his strength and sight. The noble David was thus blinded by Bathsheba and suffered for it; no man is exempt from a woman's tricks."

"I have sensed the same. Perhaps the fate of Anne Boleyn will be the same as Lot's wife, or more accurately, Jezebel's."

"How right you are; you are a man of truth, Mr. More."

"I will do what I must to keep control of Rome in England; my heart and soul belong to the Papacy. They always have - as everyone's should… I have a pressing need to ask, Ambassador: Why did your Master's troops plunder the Sacred City?"

Chapuys shook his head with a sigh. "Those were unfortunate circumstances."

"Indeed. Henry has continually expressed disdain for the Emperor ever since; he has called him a whoreson."

"A whoreson?" Chapuys felt shocked even though he knew that King Henry has acted nothing but rudely to his Master. "They were terrible events orchestrated by mutinous troops who had yet to be paid; they acted rashly and wickedly. My Master was furious, humiliated before he understood the truth. God wants him to cleanse Christendom of the heretics infecting our glorious kingdoms. His Holiness had failed in his duty to preserve Christianity; he allowed the spread of Lutheranism and the Turks to gain ground. It took a drastic measure for His Holiness to understand his failure and know his replacement - my Master, the Holy Roman Emperor."

"It does seem that God looks on your Master fondly."

"And what of the rumors that King Henry is going to break away from Rome and follow that infidel, Luther?"

Thomas More's lips thinned, "Luther is excrement; his mouth is the anus of the world. I have read his works and spit on them when finished; it sears my eyes with its sacrilegious words."

Chapuys smiled, "We are of similar contentions, Mr. More. I believe that, truly, I have found a new friend."

"By God's grace, we have found each other."

"And the Chancellor?"

"He was Wolsey's man; the Cardinal often spoke of him with prideful respect. He replaced me as Chancellor; the King was furious that I spoke against Anne Boleyn and the marriage."

"And your opinion of your replacement? I have heard… rumors."

"I would not want to be in that serpent's company. The rumors are true. He is a man of low morals; he would order his own mother's death for the right expenditure, I am certain. I believe that he would even ally with the Sultan if he thought that it would benefit him."

Shuddering, Chapuys quickly signed a cross across his head, lips, and chest. "A depraved man who now has your King's ear."

"I fear what he will whisper in the King's ear. Henry is truly furious right now."

"They say your King is so furious that if King Francois does not ally with him against my Master, he will renew his ancestral claims upon the French lands that belonged to his forebears."

"What? You mean…?"

"Normandy, Aquitaine, Pointers, Brittany, Gascony, Anjou, Nantes, and Maine. King Henry will seek to reclaim them all and engage in holy war against King Francois if France does not ally with England. That is what the whispered rumors tell."

"By Judas' betrayal," Thomas More brought his fingers to wipe away the sudden moisture in the corners of his mouth. "This is… frightening. Diplomacy is the answer to this situation, never war."

"We need help, Mr. More."

"Bishop Fisher will help us; he is intelligent and full of God."

"He has begun writing against your King, I heard."

"Yes. Archbishop Warham has expressed his distaste, as well, particularly with the Lord Chancellor. He calls him a knave."

"Appropriate."

"I agree. I have begun speaking with the Courtenays and Poles - all of the old Plantagenets." More's words were soft, "They, too, are outraged by what is happening. Although they are ambitious fools, particularly Lady Salisbury, they are the only ones who have verbally exclaimed horror at what is happening of the nobility of whom I am aware."

"What have you talked about?"

"They have a desire to return England to what it once was. Lady Salisbury offered any of her sons to wed Princess Mary to secure the throne; she was once Princess Mary's governess."

"Reginald Pole, the exiled one cannot be wed to anyone; he is a priest."

Thomas More inclined his head, "He has offices in the Church, but he has yet to be ordained."

"So he can potentially marry," he nodded in understanding. "His blood has transformed him into a dangerous man; he is of the Plantagenet line from what I understand, yes?"

"Yes. He is the grandson of the Duke of Clarence, brother of King Edward; he is the great-grandson of the Kingmaker. All of the Poles are descended from Clarence and the Kingmaker. Montague offered to marry Princess Mary and Margaret Pole's other two sons, the already-mentioned Reginald and Geoffrey are, too, available. Exeter, descended from King Edward just as Henry, hinted that his wife has been ill since the birth of his son two years ago; her time is short, he says. He would potentially marry Princess Mary, as well."

"No Plantagenet is acceptable. Princess Mary is to wed a man of my Master's choosing, preferably his heir, Prince Felipe."

"You sound confident, Ambassador. Has Henry already agreed to a match?"

Chapuys' face darkened, "No. He has refused to contemplate it. I believe that he will never agree even though he should. My Master is very accommodating and benevolent. Anyone else would assassinate your King for his intolerable insults to my Master. He is the defender of Christendom from the Turks; this week I received a message that said the Turks were near Vienna, leaving death and destruction behind them. By now, the heathens are undoubtedly laying siege to the city. My Master's men will be the sole force to push them back."

"Vienna?" Thomas More gasped, face pale. "Your Master has been gifted by God. I will pray heartily for his strength and courage, the same for his men."

"You are a good man, Mr. More. I heard that the Holy Maid visited you before her attack."

"She did, and I was impressed by her fervor; she declared to me that Princess Mary would become Queen of England."

"God willing, she will," he swore. "My Master will see it become reality. Did the Holy Maid mention anything else?"

"She, too, has been communicating with the Poles and Exeter. Lady Salisbury claimed she said that her son will be King of England. I know not to believe her; she is ambitious and could be lying. The Holy maid did not mention anything about Pole becoming King; she seems to favor Exeter."

"Interesting."

"It is an utmost shame what happened to her," Thomas More shook his head, hair bristling in the air. "I wish to claim that I was surprised but I was not - am not."

"She was attacked, nearly killed. They say that it was a riot… but I disagree. I believe that it was the Chancellor's spies. Only one man could order the Chancellor- "

"I am certain that Henry is… very stressed right now."

"Yet that does not change the heresy that your King is beginning to believe."

"Henry has been a beloved and great King, but I now fear the path that he is treading. It is because of Anne Boleyn; she is the center of this. The Chancellor is, as well."

"The Whore," he whispered so as not to be potentially overheard, but his intensity was in no way diminished. "We must remove her."

"Indeed. She is a heretic; she must be burned… There is a prophecy that a Queen of England will be burned and Anne Boleyn will be the one to fulfill it; she is a Lutheran."

"She is not a Queen. His Holiness decreed it."

"I pray she never will be, lest Lutheranism spreads even further. We must prevent that."

"I agree, my friend, but we would first need to kidnap her from the impenetrable Tower. That is too public, complex. We need something quick."

Thomas More's eyes were indecipherable. "You want to… assassinate her?"

"This witch has corrupted your King, enchanting him to the point in which he cares not if he is cast out of Christendom, damned for eternity; she is the catalyst for England's heresy. Kill her, everything will return to normal. King Henry will then be free from her charms and he will see the truth. He would not regret it, for my Master is the most benevolent of Princes."

"As you said, he is Christendom's great defender."

"I believe that I know of someone who can deliver the return of Papal Authority in England by killing the Whore."

Thomas More looked away, "Part of me wishes that the Papal Bull had never been issued. Then Henry would have certainly remained with Rome."

"Or maybe not," he smoothly corrected. "Boleyn's hold on him is clearly strong; she is just as Delilah and Jezebel - a diabolical amalgamation. Have you not seen it?"

"I have… Of whom were you thinking?"

Chapuys smiled.

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October 1529

"I believe that you have already considered the possibility, Your Majesty," the voice of Cromwell was steady, yet subtle hints of trepidation were audible. "With the Pope and Emperor's unforgiving interference, it was merely a matter of time."

Anne's eyes were hard as she held her arms around their soon-to-be-here son. "They have gone too far. Cromwell has looked and there is no one better than Cromwell. I have heard you say that."

Henry turned away and felt the weariness of the inevitable; it was confirmed by his burdened soul. He was old, now; no matter how much he kept his body in shape, he was not the King who he used to be when he took the throne. Although he envisioned living for decades more as his Uncle Arthur, he needed his true heir immediately; nothing was more important. The Papacy had failed him and Anne and Cromwell had shown him the truth - but it didn't mean that it was easy. For his entire life, ever since he could remember, he had followed the Papacy - as his father had done before him. It was all that he was taught: to bow before Rome, even as King.

"Begin the process," he commanded, voice drifting strangely; he almost didn't recognize it. "I need my true heir."

"May I speak bluntly, Your Majesty?" Cromwell inquired hesitantly.

"I wish that someone would."

"This path could lead to war- "

"I must have my son!" Henry whirled around, "If a King cannot provide stability to his realm by siring a healthy son, then it matters not what else he accomplishes!"

Cromwell nodded serenely, "This will not be easy."

"Do I retain you for what is easy? Do you think that I have raised you to Lord Chancellor for the charm of your presence? No…" he locked his eyes onto Cromwell's, staring down at him. "I have seen something in you that I have seen in few during my lifetime: guile. You remind me of my father and I see some of Wolsey in you, but where the Cardinal failed, I foresee your success. God has brought you to me. I knew who would tirelessly see my will done - I always do. So you know my will, Mr. Cromwell. Execute it."

"I will, Your Majesty, but this will take time. You must show that you ignore the Pope's Papal Bull and will marry whom you please. The message must be understood."

"Then how can this process be hastened?"

Cromwell glanced at Anne before returning his eyes to Henry's. "Diligence and money."

"How are we to come by those?" Anne demanded, her striking lovely face tense; her dark mystifying eyes were furious. "The people are angry, and we are humiliated! The Pope declared me a whore - and all of Christendom heard it! They go so far as to call me the Whore of Christendom; they compare me to Jezebel!"

Henry's rage was provoked, "Our fates will not be of them; dogs will not tear our flesh to bits and my heirs through you will survive. Anyone who dares to believe such slander will be imprisoned in the Tower - at the lowest level."

"To them, I am Jezebel, you are King Ahab, and Cromwell is the Baal priests," her words were bitter and her petite fists clenched.

"We are not," he tried to contain his temper; it wasn't her at whom he was furious. "You are none of those things; they will regret their words and impure thoughts. I will force them to."

Anne stared at him, eyes burning with chaotic emotions; she looked saddened. "Will they? I am a woman, the instrument by which sin entered the world; Eve plucked that accursed apple and doomed us all. In their eyes, I am Lucifer's gateway, the unholy entrance through which he attacks pious men."

"They are but priests with limited knowledge and intelligence," Cromwell said smoothly, tempering Henry's rage. "They try to create a name for themselves by poisoning the image of Lady Anne."

"They are not the only ones," she murmured darkly. "I know who it is who should be thrown out of a palace's window and torn to shreds by dogs: the Pope and Emperor. They caused our humiliation, our shame. We alone are forced to bear it."

"Not for long," he grabbed her hands and brought them to his lips. "We will be married and our son will be legitimate; he will be mighty. He will reign the golden age and all will kneel at his feet, including the Pope and the next Emperor after Carlos."

"Yes," she leaned into him, a brief contact of comfort. "He will be glorious and his reign more so. We are in danger of losing that because of the Pope, who has dared command you, the King of England. That is unacceptable. You have more royal blood than that… that swine!"

"You are right," he hissed; he saw the truth. "The Papacy is full of fraudulent order - and Clement is at the top. My eyes have never been clearer; my sight is a gift from God and I see His displeasure with the Papacy. It is time to break away. About my message being understood: What would you suggest, Mr. Cromwell?"

"I believe that it would behoove Your Majesty to disband the monasteries, abbeys, and covenants through England. You would do much good with the money that flows from them to Rome each year. This would appoint you the richest man in Christendom, the richest King that England has ever had. I would propose that these funds be utilized to strengthen England for an inevitable invasion. These actions would prompt your excommunication from Rome but after that, you will create your own Church with you as the spiritual head, as is your rightful position, and marry whomever you desire. This, too, would render any power held by Bishop Fisher or any other followers of Rome worthless. You will decide who is the Archbishop of Canterbury and any other positions you seek to fill. But first, the monasteries, abbeys, and covenants must be disbanded and appropriated by you, Your Majesty."

Henry nodded greedily, "Of course. Have you personal experiences with the monasteries?"

"Yes. It was a forthcoming experience and it stimulated the dissent that I feel."

"You must disband these corrupt institutions for they breed nothing but treason." Anne stared at him steadily, intently; she had never looked so serious. "It would show the Pope and Emperor that you will never again bow to Rome, for that is but an inversion of God's command. It will show that you do not take kindly to their damned interference. They must learn their place at your feet!"

"All of that money," he trailed off, imagining how much stronger he could make his kingdom with those riches. "Begin discussing it with my lawyers and to whomever you need, Mr. Cromwell. Handle everything. Start immediately. You have proven worthy. Do whatever you must; you have my blessing. I trust in your discretion and skill."

Cromwell hesitated, "And the Dowager Princess of Wales, Your Majesty?"

Henry paused; he had not thought of Catherine for so long. "Her nunnery will remain; she saw reason and I will be benevolent because of it."

"What will you do with the money, Henry? Besides, of course, what Cromwell suggested?" Anne peered at him, "We could ease the people's anger by opening new places of study and publishing Tyndale's Bible - all will know the word of God."

"Thomas told me that he had identified over three-thousand errors in Tyndale's gospel; he said that it was more blasphemous than the Turks' holy book."

"That sounds like Thomas More," Cromwell shook his head. "His beliefs are blinding him, Your Majesty; he sees only what he wishes to and that is horrid mistranslation."

Henry's eyes closed and he quelled the impulse to obliterate the suggestion about Tyndale's Bible. "There is already a Bible, my love."

"That only those in religious life can read," she stated passionately; her eyes connected briefly to Cromwell's. "Many Englishmen cannot have access to the Bible- "

"They attend Mass; they can seek Confession."

"Tyndale's Bible provides an opening in the soul. It offers all the ability to read the Word of God. The Papacy has done nothing for you, Henry, for our son. They seek our destruction."

Cromwell lifted his head, "This would be another way in which Your Majesty shows the Pope and Emperor that you cannot forgive. You would assert your power as a true King as the head of your realm."

"We must show the people that they are in our thoughts." Anne beseeched him; her eyes were frothy. "We cannot only provide the visual of amassing more power for ourselves. We must be better than the Emperor."

"You are right," he murmured. "Rome is but a vassal for the Emperor. Clement has shown his allegiance and thoughts. I will now show mine."

"You will open new places of study and publish Tyndale's Bible?" Anne looked fulfilled; some of her anger eased from her beautiful face. "Your Majesty is wiser than Solomon."

Henry suddenly remembered something that his father had said to him many years ago: 'The wise King will never be the most popular King. People know not what they want; they are fickle and prone to judge poorly. It is up to you to decide. 'Tis from where the power of Kings is derived under God's supremacy. All Kings are strong but too few are wise. My dynasty must bloom; the Tudor Rose must flourish through your sons. Our House will rise past France and the united Castile and Aragon crowns. Upon you rests all of my aspirations; you will be the King that I cannot.' He had reached this point of gaining more prestige and power because he had indulged in his father's traits; he swore to continue to do so.

"Only at first, Your Majesty," Cromwell boldly cut in - and Henry respected it. "Immediately, my suggestion is that you use this extra expenditure to begin crafting yourself as a leader of a new Church - one that belongs solely to you. Now is the time to act. The people are furious and confused. Act while they feel this way. For those few who do not accept your rightful, spiritual position, you can convince them to accept it with an offering. Men are easily persuaded by coinage, Your Majesty. I have seen it many times, even those who would oppose you in Parliament. After the fury of the Pope and Emperor placates, particularly when you strengthen England's defenses, armies, and armada, then you can use the money in other ways, such as what the Lady Boleyn proposed. You will be the sole and supreme head of your kingdom."

"You have been a gift from God, Mr. Cromwell. Your cleverness never ceases to impress me." Henry grasped the man's shoulder in promise. "I have made you. Everything that you are, everything that you have will come from me."

"I am forever Your Majesty's servant." Cromwell bowed his head in respect, "Quickly, if everything falls into place, and God willing it does, you will have your heir and be married to the lovely soon-to-be Queen Anne. As the head of a new Church, you will dictate laws of all spiritual matters. You can marry yourself to whomever. Your power will be absolute- "

Henry frowned, "Parliament?"

"Few will possess the folly to go against you, Your Majesty. They can be persuaded, as I previously suggested, with bribery."

"Some stubborn few will rebel regardless," Anne commented softly. "I believe I know who."

"Who?" Henry demanded, "I will deal with these traitors right now. He who does not feel humiliation or rage, or accept my decisions is not a true Englishman!"

Anne's eyes were steady, "Archbishop Warham, Thomas More, Bishop Fisher, and that damned Imperial Ambassador. It also would not be a surprise if all of the old Plantagenets rebelled, too."

"My father was always wary of the old Plantagenets, my own cousins. I, too, have suspected that they sought my throne… but it is hard to believe that they would betray me. I have known them my entire life. Pole, I understand but Exeter? He has been my friend since I was but a boy. Wolsey tried to part us once but I refused to allow it." Henry's thought to years past and that inevitably brought Catherine to mind. "If anyone is to blame for Courtenay's potential treachery, it is his wife; she is fickle and weak, just like all her kind."

"There is evidence contrary to that," Anne stared at him.

"Yes… The thought of Catherine brings out the worst in me," he pulled her hand to his lips. "You are neither of those things. Forgive me."

Her expression softened, "Thank you."

"Exeter has always been loyal; he is a friend. I only foresee treachery from him because of his wife."

Cromwell nodded sagely, "Of course, Your Majesty, but this is a delicate time. As you are aware, people can be led astray during such turbulent events. I do not believe you need to worry about Archbishop Warham and Bishop Fisher; they are old and ill."

"I want them all watched, regardless. I must know who I can trust. You are correct; they should feel tired of fighting for Catherine's blood-stained lies. She willingly stepped down; they have no argument."

Anne's fists clenched, "And if the Pope - or Emperor, for that matter - elevates Warham or Bishop to Cardinal?"

Henry's mood darkened, knowing that it was a true possibility. "I will send their heads across the Channel to meet their damned hats!"

"And Thomas More?" Cromwell stared at him neutrally.

"Thomas is different; he would never…" he trailed off as he realized that, indeed, his old friend would rebel. Already, Thomas boldly declared his thoughts about his new marriage and Anne. Henry knew that he would hear reports, more than likely from Cromwell, that Thomas was writing against his new policies. Such things were treasonous and warranted death, but… Henry found it difficult to order his friend's death; they were once close, a teacher-student bond. "Thomas has disappointed me."

"And if he continues to do so?" Anne dared in challenge, "He thinks you to be a frail Prince whom he can lead by the hand but you are a King who will be obeyed. You cannot have him questioning our rightful positions, and more importantly, the rightful glory of our son."

"I will find something else for Thomas, but the rest… they will be dealt with just as Elizabeth Barton will be. Anyone who speaks against you or our son will experience my wrath intimately."

Cromwell inclined his head. "I have received a letter from King Francois, Your Majesty, from the French Ambassador addressed to you. I have not read it, but- "

"Give it to me."

"Of course," he held out the letter and Henry grabbed it.

"I have waited for this," he murmured as he unfurled the scroll. "Now I will know if we have another enemy," he read the French words:

My brother, the King of England, Defender of the Faith, strongest of men, wisest of scholars,

I am horrified by what has transpired to your anointed person. The Emperor's unholy actions through Pope Clement VII are unacceptable; I condemn him fiercely. Every King needs his rightful heir and the Dowager Princess of Wales failed to produce because she lived in sin, lying to you and more blasphemously, before God. The Marquess of Pembroke, I remember her well, particularly her sister, Mary, with whom I spent long nights of ardent love. I respect and endorse your decision to wed your chosen Queen that the Emperor denies you. He must be stopped and we are the only two men in the world who detest him with the same, familiar zeal. We both feel the bitter sting of public humiliation at his hands.

I offer an alliance, my brother, one of shared faith and vengeance against the Emperor. Together, France and England will strike back at the House of Habsburg with unshakable ferocity, invincible armies, and weathered discipline. I know of your Marquess' thoughts on the Papacy, thoughts that you may now share because of the Emperor, and I do nothing to stop them. We both want the Emperor humiliated as he has continually humiliated us, and I care not what it takes to see him shamed. When Judgment comes, I want him to be besmirched with shame! We must persevere in our hatred - and we shall!

I will recognize the Marquess of Pembroke, who is no whore as was said by His Holiness, as your Queen of England and mother to your heirs, and anything else that you want from the Emperor once we defeat him. I will recognize you and England as an eternal ally and friend in spite of any potential preceding paths walked. I will offer your future heirs marriage contracts when appropriate and we will rise above the Emperor's control. In return, after we defeat the Emperor, I want all that was stolen from me returned: my claims to Naples, Milan, Flanders, and Artois, and the dependency of the duchy of Burgundy. I also want other riches and land from the Emperor but we can discuss this once our holy war is concluded - and we are the victors.

All I truly ask, my brother, greatest of Kings, is for your trust and hatred. We both desire for retribution against the Emperor. I will give you all of the support that you need and you will requite. Our two great kingdoms have been at war and odds with one another for centuries. It is time to move past our petty grievances and grandiose visions. It is time that we move our gaze away from each other to the sight of our common enemy: the imperial eagle. We shall divide between us many treasures when our victory comes. I eagerly await to hear your reply.

King Francois I of France.

Henry looked up from the letter, "Francois is our ally. He has offered an alliance against the Emperor," he stared at Anne with relieved eyes. "He will recognize you as my rightful, true Queen and endorse all of our sons and daughters. He hinted that he would hold no quarrel if I move away from the Papacy. All he wants is the humiliation of the Emperor. Never has God gifted a King such a worthy ally!"

Anne's smile was pure, "God is on our side; he will bless us."

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 1529

Cromwell meticulously scanned his letter, wise eyes searching for mistakes that he was certain didn't exist. After several moments, he set it down, satisfied; it was the return letter to King Francois that the King had ordered him to compose.

A sound drew his attention and he looked up to see Thomas More at the entrance of his office, the guards keeping him from entering.

"Let him in," he called out; he secured the parchment's security, moving it away easily. "And close the door."

"Lord Chancellor," More greeted sagely, standing before him; they were alone without prying eyes.

"You should have warned me of your coming. I would have requested food and drink. I believe that I have wine- "

"Thank you, but no."

"I see," he leaned back, staring up at the still-standing Thomas More. "What can I do for you?"

"I know what you are, Lord Chancellor. I know the path on which your thoughts dwell. You are leading the King astray."

"Ahh, I was wondering when you would confront me." Cromwell leaned forward, anticipation causing his fingers to itch; he was ready for this battle. "I have yearned for this conversation."

"As have I."

"How many people did you burn, Mr. More? How many innocent- "

"They were not innocent, Lord Chancellor; their souls needed saving."

"How many did you set aflame at the stake? You wielded the power of this office to great effect during your short tenure. How many?"

"Not enough," Thomas More stood tall; his bluntness was refreshing. "The heresy of Lutheranism is spreading faster than I imagined. His Holiness' decree has had the opposite effect. England is on the brink of eternal damnation."

Cromwell clapped his fingers together lightly in front of him, betraying his feelings on the matter. "I heard that before you burned them, you put them to the rack."

"To save their souls, I did. I had men whipped, burned with irons, hung by their wrists, and then finally when it was apparent whose souls could not be saved, I burned them at the stake."

"Do their screams haunt you? Have you remorse?"

"For every soul of which I could not save, my remorse outweighs the heaviest burden."

"A zealous follower of the Papacy," Cromwell murmured. "You are one of many agents of the corrupt institution."

"Corrupt?" Thomas More stared at him intently; he met the stare with just as great intensity. "In just over the past decade, the Turks have captured Jerusalem, Belgrade, Rhodes, much of the Mediterranean, and many of the ancient lands; they lit their fires in the great library at Buda. Constantinople has been in their control for over seventy years, and the Emperor's Ambassador has revealed to me that they currently lay siege at the very gates of Vienna."

"You have been speaking with the Imperial Ambassador? That is not wise with the ubiquitous loathing of Spaniards in the air."

"Only the Emperor's forces are pushing those heathens back. The Turks are the corrupt institution, Lord Chancellor. The fact that you believe the Papacy is corrupt instead of the Turks shows how great of an infidel you are. It is heresy that you hold this office; you are leading the King away from God."

Cromwell chuckled, "The King of England is not an infidel, and neither am I. Your statement is flawed behind your own perception of reality. I agree wholeheartedly that the Turks are heathens."

"Then why would you want to facilitate another rupture in Christendom by persuading the King to cast aside the Papacy?"

"I am merely offering the King a solution to his problems caused by the Pope and Emperor. If His Majesty sees the true religion, then that is God's will."

"Heretic!" More snapped but reigned himself in. "You and the Boleyn girl are leading the King down a dangerous path; it will damn us all. Only the Papacy- "

"Which is under control of the Emperor." Cromwell interrupted smoothly, "You saw what happened, Mr. More, how they interfere in affairs in which they have no say. The Emperor is practically Pope, now."

"The Emperor is the sole force that is currently keeping the Turks at bay. Lucifer's armies are being pushed back because of him. He is the Lord's champion; His guiding hands are on him."

"Yet, he has taken power of which he holds no claim. Hypocrisy is as abundant as air."

"I know what you are, Lord Chancellor; you are for purchase. You would serve Christendom's great enemy if offered - the Sultan. Do you know the Turks' methods? They rape and pillage. They slaughter all in their path; men, women, children, it matters not. They collect the virgin girls and give those poor souls to the Sultan. He takes them and sires countless children through them, spreading his diabolical seed. He encourages his spawn to practice fratricide."

"I have heard the stories. Those poor girls," he shook his head in remorse. "May God grant them strength and courage."

"Indeed. In spite of our shared inclinations toward the Turks, I want you to understand something."

"What?"

"You think that because you now hold this office you can scheme with heretics behind the King's back, but you are mistaken. Henry will quickly see how you have whispered tainted words in his ears and when that time comes, you will burn. I was mounting a case against you before he forced me to resign. I know about your letters. I know that you have begun communicating with Tyndale since Wolsey's fall and I believe that you have even communicated with that Lucifer's son, Luthor."

"Are you threatening me, Mr. More?"

"Yes…" the expression on Thomas More's face was a mixture of woe and steely resolve. "That is what I am doing."

"They say that you are the great persuader of our age… Your words have failed you this time."

"You will- "

"I allowed you your say, now you will allow me to retort." Cromwell interrupted almost lazily, "The Papacy is wrong; you are a man who has devoted his life to false teachings. The Church is besmirched with corruption; it is mired. The monasteries, abbeys, and nunneries prove this. I have seen the results."

"The monks- "

"If you ask me about the monks, again, I speak from experience, Mr. More. None of my beliefs are prejudiced; they are built on facts and experiences. I am aware that some of those foundations are respectable and dutiful but they are few. I once arrived at a monastery without warning and was met with a parade of the seven vices."

"Your eyes deceived you. The monasteries are repositories for learning."

Cromwell raised a brow, undeterred. "Were any of the great scholars of this realm monks? Grocyn? Linacre? Colet? No, they were men of university."

"Of course," Thomas More shook his head in agitation. "The rumors remark that you possess a deep loathing of those in religious life."

"Wolsey kept me as inspector; my diligence impressed him. My experiences with those in religious life have been of corruption, deceit, and waste. I have witnessed monks who live like great Lords from the offerings of the poor who yearn for a blessing instead of sustenance. They take children in, indeed, but rather than educating them as promised, these poor children are instead used as servants. They are not loyal to the King, to England; they are sole servants to Rome, to the Papacy. For centuries, the Monks have compiled our history and England has accepted it, but what I have discovered is that they have suppressed our true history; they write one that is instead beneficial to Rome. Generations have been falsified. Money has been stolen from England by the monasteries, abbeys, and nunneries to be dispersed into Rome to fill the coffers of the Papacy. Everything that Luthor contended was true; it is blinding."

Thomas More took a step back in horror. "I was mistaken about your depravity; it is worse than I imagined."

"Have you read Marsiglio?"

"You are without shame, Lord Chancellor; you do not even hide your nature. I once read his savage postulates many years ago; they are sullied with mistranslation and lies - just as you are."

"Are they? Marsiglio rightly declared that Christ entered this world not to rule or judge, but as a subject; he was subject to the state. He never sought to rule, nor did he ever pass on a command to his apostles to rule. He, too, did not sanction power of one apostle over another, one above the others."

"He did- "

"Read those scriptures about Peter again," he said brusquely. "Christ did not make Popes. He did not bestow the power to create laws or impose taxes, both over which the Church of Rome claim jurisdiction. It is not for your Pope to decide who is married, who can marry, and who is a bastard or legitimate."

"Over a thousand years of Church history state otherwise to these dissident claims, Lord Chancellor. Christ founded a visible Church that would reign endlessly; it was given the power to teach and discipline - look at Matthew's Book. St. Paul tells us that the Church is the pillar and foundation of truth- "

"Not the Church of Rome; it is filled with deceit." Cromwell leaned forward, "Christ did not induct his followers into power of this world, only the power of Heaven. Since that is the truth, how can the Princes of Christendom obtain their power from the Bishop of Rome?"

"How far your soul will be damned," Thomas More stared at him sadly; he even glimpsed sympathy but that was only beneath the outrage. "Your path to Lucifer has been cemented. I pray that you awaken from these abhorrent beliefs. The promise of Christ to Peter endowed him- "

"With no earthly power. The basis upon which your Pope claims power is false. He is nothing more than a mere figurehead of the fictitious teachings that he preaches, Mr. More; he wields too much stolen power. This Antichrist can choose who rules; he has the power to crown and un-crown God-anointed Kings and change the course of Empires."

Thomas More flinched back, horror causing his eyes to widen briefly before he composed himself. "Blasphemer! His Holiness is the Vicar of Christ, the descendant of St. Peter! His Holiness is the way in which we remember Christ's sacrifice!"

"Christ explicitly said how to remember him: Not through a false Pope but bread and wine, body and blood. It has become apparent how deceived and human the Pope is; he has fallen prey to the Emperor. It is as obvious as your growing fury, Mr. More. How many other of your Popes have fallen prey? Now that the Emperor has the Bishop of Rome on his side, now that he himself is practically the false Pope, he is nigh unstoppable."

"Their alliance is saving Christendom from those who wish our destruction. It is God's will and we must follow it; the Bible declares it and the Bible does not lie."

"It does not, but since the Bible is divinely-inspired, it alone is the truth, not what your Pope decrees."

"The Pope is the representative of God in this world. If Henry had not demanded the Great Seal out of my hands, I would arrest you right now in the name of the King and more importantly,

God, Lord Chancellor."

"The only mediator between God and man is not your Pope, but Christ Himself. Your Pope is not divine, only human. How many of your Popes have fathered children, Mr. More…? I have heard stories that your Borgias Pope kept many women - and none of them virgins. They are hypocrites who fail to follow their false teachings."

"I renounce my earlier statement, for it would be a lie right now to say that I want your soul saved. You have led Henry into sin. That is unforgivable and you might have led him to his death."

"You are speaking of the Barton girl?" Cromwell chuckled, "She seeks attention, that is all."

"She was nearly killed in an attack after His Holiness' Papal Bull."

"I heard about it."

"From your spies who orchestrated the attack, I am sure."

"The Holy Maid was probably attacked by those men because she prophesied the King's death; that is unforgivable in anyone except Barton's mind."

"Henry's prophesied death will only occur if he continues his current path, the one on which you and Anne Boleyn are leading him."

"You believe her? You are gullible."

"God is working through her, warning of His wrath."

Cromwell shook his head, "If the Barton girl had foretold of the King's Great Matter and Anne Boleyn's coming a season before it happened, you would have burned her at the stake and called her a witch. You merely believe her because it is convenient, advantageous."

"You put words in my mouth of which I have never thought. Henry will be smitten with holy lightning if he continues this path; the Holy Maid foresaw this. Her gift is a blessing."

"Well, if that is true - if - then he must have his son. The King needs a son; all Kings do. Fitzroy is a bastard, unable to inherit the throne in spite of his wishes. This is the first time where there is no direct heir to England's throne. What if the King dies - as Barton treasonously claims? Who will sit on his mighty throne? Pole? Exeter? Princess Mary? Scotland's fifth James? Suffolk's children through the French Queen? It would be a free-for-all as rival claimants compete for His Majesty's throne. It would be a return to the Cousins' War but bloodier. That is what the King's death represents; that is what the Barton girl and any who believe her endorse. It is what you endorse, Mr. More. An heir must be secured of the King's body before his demise."

"You wish to speak of the death of Kings, Lord Chancellor?"

"Why not? It might open your mind. When a King dies, there has always been an heir to rise to the throne. The second Richard disappeared into Pontefract Castle and either starved or was murdered."

"We both know which one it was."

"Indeed. His usurper was also his heir; the fourth Henry died of leprosy which scarred his body but he had an heir. He had many sons."

"This information is already known."

"You may learn something new. The immortal fifth Henry won Agincourt and conquered France."

"But he paid the price."

"Yes. With body, not money. He married Princess Katherine Valois and while she was a dutiful wife for their brief marriage, her father was mad. He thought that he was- "

"Composed of glass."

"The sixth Henry sprung from his parents' union but he inherited his grandfather's madness. He had a son but there were still other heirs. The fourth Edward eventually took the kingdom away from the mad Henry. When that great King died, his sons were killed, but the throne was still secured by his brother, the wicked Richard III. Then old King Henry, seventh of that name, deposed the maligned hunchback. There have always been clear claimants to the throne, but now, there are none. The claims of Exeter, Pole, Princess Mary, James V, and Suffolk's son are weak and rely on women's lines."

"Henry's father relied on the same."

"Yet he won the throne, too, through conquest. The old King also married King Edward's eldest daughter and heir."

"Which provided Henry with his main claim to the throne."

"Perhaps, but Exeter is merely descended through a younger daughter of King Edward and Montague through the treasonous Duke of Clarence through his mother. The King is the embodiment of the united Houses of Lancaster and York. Only a son by Lady Anne will bring peace."

"But that son will be raised a heretic. Queen Catherine did fail to bear an heir, but she is a true follower of the Papacy." Thomas More glared at him, eyes narrowing. "Unlike the current men in power."

"Yet she failed in her primary duty. Even you cannot deny it; you just admitted it. Lady Anne is young; her mother was a Howard. All Howard women are renowned for their fertile beauty. Wiltshire once remarked that his wife bore him a child every year; he claimed that it detained his revenue. Their daughter undoubtedly inherited that; she will provide the King strong sons."

Thomas More's jaw ticked and he looked out the window of the Tower; he was quiet for several moments and Cromwell watched him silently before his predecessor spoke. "Do you remember Edward IV's Queen, Lord Chancellor?"

"Elizabeth Woodville."

"Do you remember the rumors about her? Her family?"

"Her mother's line were witches; she herself was," he recalled. "It was how she beguiled the King to marry her."

"What of the other rumors? They say it was the true reason why King Edward married her. It was not exactly the sight of her phenomenal blonde beauty that enticed his pulse."

Cromwell leaned back, understanding. "Melusine. Wolsey told me the story."

"Hear it again. The Woodvilles claimed descent from the serpent-woman of freshwater; the Kings of England already do through the Counts of Anjou, but they say that King Edward wanted to double the potential for the perennial dynasty."

"And she masqueraded as a mortal Princess but when her husband saw her tail, she foretold that her children would establish a dynasty that would reign endlessly."

"Yes. It was untold power - guaranteed by Lucifer."

"Your point, Mr. More?"

"Before King Edward was married, his advisors - Warwick and others - were planning to marry him to a French Princess, but he went against their wishes and married whom he pleased to secure that eternal dynasty. Look what happened. Look who he chose - a woman under Lucifer's sway. Look who his grandson has chosen."

"But King Edward's Queen brought with her a claim to Castile's throne. An ancient one, but a claim nonetheless."

"Now you speak of the three suns: The throne of England, the throne of France, and the throne of Castile, to which all of Edward IV's legitimate descendants lay claim because she provided Castile for the Kings of England. She did bring that, yes, but what will Anne Boleyn bring with her? Nothing. No land, money, treaty, or claim. When Henry married Catherine, I was at the coronation. I wrote about it. The people whispered that our King was closer to securing his ancient rights with Catherine as his Queen. They said that His Majesty was King of three glorious Kingdoms - the three suns."

"They still say that, Mr. More. What Lady Anne will bring with her to the marriage is a son of the King's body."

Thomas More's eyes closed. "The rumors are true; this Jezebel is pregnant with Henry's child. A Lutheran Prince he will be; heresy will dominate this realm. You have aided the ushering-in of the Turks."

Cromwell shook his head, "Our conversation has reached its end. The King has ordered you to return to your home," he grabbed the document and held the scroll out until Thomas More took it. "I would abide by his decision."

"Very well. I cannot stay longer in your company." Thomas More turned to leave.

"What will you do?"

More paused, "Write and pray."

"I advise that you do much more of the latter than the former."

"Is that a threat, Lord Chancellor?"

"Yes. I return the one you gave me," he watched as Thomas More exited without another word.

Cromwell pulled out the letter to King Francois; he would need to send it off immediately. The victory that he had just achieved would be met with resistance and he was prepared. The King had entrusted him and he would not fail as Wolsey had; he would succeed. Through him and the soon-to-be Queen, the true religion will spread rapidly - and it will be glorious!

XxXxXxXxXxX

October 1529

"The heathens have been pushed back!" The messenger burst out, the Spanish words floating in the air with the weight of the crumbled walls of Jericho. "The Turks have fled Vienna!"

The Emperor's eyes closed as euphoria and triumph swept through him; he slowly opened his lids and spread his arms outward. "My stable hand has brought liberation to Christendom; peace has been secured. God is good!"

The ensemble of his subjects cheered and cried out vehement praises to the Father, some falling to their knees, weeping in joy.

His love's hand brushed his own; her eyes were bright, a jubilant smile gracing her lips. "Congratulations, my love."

"A celebration must be held," he quirked his lips, felt his features relax; a weight that he had felt for a long time diminished. "First, we will hear the tale of our victory. Messenger!"

All quieted as the messenger swallowed, kneeling before him. "My liege?"

"Regale us of the Turks' annihilation."

"Of course," the messenger looked around, voice carrying. "The Turks had wiped out the Hungarians and wanted more than the death of a Christian King; they wished to spread their foul beliefs until they encompassed Christendom. The Sultan marched further inward with his damned Janissaries than any other invader, but our Imperial Highness' glorious House made certain that the Sultan's conquest had reached its zenith. After Your Highness' brother's control had been established over Hungary after the death of Louis II, Zapoya allied with the Sultan."

The Emperor's face darkened, "Damnation will await his soul."

"Just as the Sultan, my liege; just as all Turks. The Sultan's colossal army swept through all of the lands and cities that your brother, the Archduke had captured. Buda was seized and given to Zapoya. Gran, Tata, Komárom, and Raab soon followed. The earth of those cities, of all of Hungary, is soaked in the blood of innocent men who the Turks slaughtered. They pillaged as they marched toward Vienna; numerous distraught messages from survivors were received as a warning. They marched past the border and knowing that Vienna would be the target, measures were taken to ensure security and formidability."

"What did my brother order?"

"The Archduke returned to Bohemia; he said that Hungary could not lose a second King. When Your Highness' mercenaries arrived, fortifications were made. Since the walls around the city were 300-years-old, they were heavily reinforced and the gates were sealed with brick. The buildings outside the main citadel were then intentionally destroyed, removing the potential for the Turks to receive cover during battle. Finally, large bastions of earth were built along the reinforced walls to provide more maneuverability while the larders were replenished and wells filled… We waited and then they arrived, the Turks. Vienna was surrounded, my liege; it was an impenetrable cloud of evil-doers. We were isolated, alone. The Sultan led his legions; he sent us his terms."

"That heathen," the Emperor murmured, bringing a hand to his chest; he crossed a sign. "What were our great enemy's terms? Do you know?"

"I do. He offered the promise that if we abandoned our faith to join the Muslim creed, nothing would happen to us." The messenger shuddered and the Emperor swore that the man would be rewarded vastly. "He swore that if we resisted, he would slaughter our young and old, and that the city would be turned to ash."

"Unsurprising. The barbarity of those heathens is unmatched; they are more destructive than fire. Nearly all of Hungary has been plundered."

"The terms were dismissed with zeal and- "

"What of the claim in which I heard the Sultan boasting that within 2 weeks, he would be eating breakfast inside St. Stephen's Cathedral?"

"'Tis true, my liege. It was a claim that would never become reality. Praise God."

"What happened during the battle?"

"The Sultan attacked; they were first repelled by your mercenaries and when they fired their cannons, there was no significant damage to the walls, but in the city, there was sparse damage. Some of the cannonballs sailed over the ramparts and landed in the streets of the city."

"How was this remedied?"

"All of the cobblestone was dismantled, leaving only soil; the cannonballs then sunk into it, causing no damage."

"Good. What else?"

"We discovered that the artillery was merely a distraction. The Sultan's sappers were digging in the earth, creating tunnels and trenches to detonate their explosives beneath Vienna's walls."

"Just as they had done at Rhodes 7 years ago," the Emperor recalled with animosity. "How was this threat met?"

"There was a system of water buckets in the cellars along the city walls and by observing the vibrations provided, we discovered where the Turks were tunneling. When the location was confirmed, your mercenaries raided the ditches, killing many Turks and detonating their explosives before they reached Vienna's walls. They were as skilled and ruthless as the Impaler King himself."

"How many were lost?"

"Many, my liege, but for each death, they doomed thrice as many Turks to theirs. I know not the exact numbers. Some, too, were killed as they retreated into the city through the tunnels after administering the surprise rebut."

"They are in Heaven, now," he silently offered a prayer for the brave men who had been slain by Lucifer's beguiled armies. "The Father has rewarded them more than I ever could. How came the victory?"

"An explosion managed to create a breach in Vienna's walls near the gate but the heathens were held off. Then God silenced the fray. Rain fell painfully; it hurt to be in contact with. It was the day when the Sultan had declared his breakfast would be consumed in St. Stephen's Cathedral."

"How fitting. Our Lord showed His might, His authentic power to these heathens."

"Indeed. A message was delivered to the Sultan on that day during the torrential downpour. It was a simple message, my liege: 'Your breakfast is getting cold.'"

The Emperor's lips curled, "An excellent mockery for the greatest mocker of God."

"The Sultan was infuriated. The next day, he unleashed a desperate, final assault upon Vienna; the full force of the Turkish legions bore down on the city's walls. They were unbreachable. Within hours, the Turks despondently withdrew to their camps. Then God stamped His mark on our victory; the next day, blankets of snow fell to cover the land and city. The battle was won and the Turks fled back to their horrid lands."

More cheering ensued from the people and the Emperor stood to his feet. "And they will never return! The Turks have seen our strength and they feared it! Good, righteous men laid down their lives, not just for my territories, but for all of Christendom and the purity of Christ that we hold in our souls! A city-full of Christian men repelled the colossal army and if they think to try once again, the Sultan will remember their defeat at Vienna! Terror will grip his corrupt heart with icy fingers; he will know full well what will happen if he returns with his heathen armies. They will face obliteration at the hands of countries-full of Christian men! They will be met by an army of Kings!"

The cacophony of acclamations was deafening; it almost hurt.

The Emperor's thoughts turned inward; he recalled the prior information that he had received. King Henry was fixing to break from Rome, enchanted by the Boleyn whore beyond anything that he had imagined. The situation in England was much more dire than he had anticipated. It didn't matter, though; the Turks' defeat opened greater avenues for him to focus on England and then France. He needed to secure Christendom and only his House was worthy of the task. He had plans and God had verified the purity of them. His Empire had repelled the greatest outward threat to God's holy nations and now he would focus his attention on the greatest inward threat.

Once he freed King Henry from the hold of the Boleyn whore and England from Lutheranism - wedding his cousin to his heir, Prince Felipe, thus strengthening his House with another realm - he would surround Francois. By King Henry's hold on Calais, he would possess another pivotal ingress into France if Francois proved devious. Then he would marry his nephew, Maximillian to Francois' eldest daughter and order His Holiness to disinherit Francois' sons, gaining another realm for his House. God had shown him the grand vision in all its majesty; he sought to make it a reality.

Soon, his provinces would stretch across Christendom and he, the Emperor, would rule with a benevolent had guided by Christ.

XxXxXxXxXxX

All right, that's it for this one, everyone. I hope that you all enjoyed it and please leave a review, whether positive or negative. It really helps out with letting me know what's working and what isn't.

There was a lot in this chapter and yes, I did use some quotes from Wolf Hall in this chapter:

**Chapuys and Thomas More meet! Yes, Thomas More isn't going to just vanish; he's going to be against Henry ignoring the Pope. Chapuys is devious and wants his Master's will enforced; he has found a worthy ally who serves Rome - and thus the Emperor at this point although he doesn't necessarily know that - above his King.

**Henry agrees to Cromwell's suggestions! Henry is splitting from Rome and because he and Anne were humiliated in such a way by the Pope, he is a lot more open to things that he would have never allowed in real-life history. Also, not wanting to be like the Emperor would play a part. (Distribution of some of the claimed wealth back to people and printing Tyndale's Bible.) Francois I agrees to support Henry and Anne's union and doesn't care if Henry breaks away from Rome. If you think that's strange, just remember that Francois I allied with the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire, Suleiman the Magnificent - the sworn enemy of Christendom - just to spite the Emperor. If he was willing to do that in real-life history, he would be more than willing to let Henry do whatever he wants in this.

**Thomas More and Cromwell go at it! This part - heck, this entire chapter - took A LOT of research and I had to give both sides valid points - at least what they thought were valid points - and I think that I succeeded. Everything about Melusine and the three suns is true and I thought that it was incredibly interesting and could be a motif - at least the legends of Melusine part - because Edward IV and Henry VIII were quite similar.

**The Emperor gets news about Vienna! That was all true. The Siege of Vienna in 1529 was a real event that saw the Ottoman expansion into Europe come to a screeching halt; it caused the Sultan to move his attention to Asia and more of the Mediterranean. A lot of the information from the actual battle was taken from Kings and Generals on YouTube; it's a fascinating channel.

That's it. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask them. I'd be more than willing to answer them. Please leave a review to tell me what you thought about it because it would help me out.

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