An: Despite the obviously fictional main plot I have tried to be historically accurate.

I look out of my small window down towards the tower green as the workmen carry tools and wood for the scaffold, piling them on the gravel as they start to assemble the framework. I can feel the hairs in the back of my neck stand on end as I see the men carelessly wielding saws and hammers. How do I know that Henry won't hack my head off with a saw? Or club me to death with a hammer? How do I know that he would not? He has been so cruel to me so far. He said he loved me, he defied an entire kingdom and spat in the faces of the catholic powers for love of me, he made me queen and then he discarded me to this dank cold cell to await my death. All because he was impatient for a son, which I could have given him had he given me more time and because for that that Seymour whore. That little wench! That little ungrateful milk faced mousey whore, she was one of my ladies-in-waiting and then she goes and betrays me with my husband, my husband I risked everything for. If I could get my hands on her I would ring her scrawny pale neck. Then again she wasn't the only one that turned Henry against me; there was a whole fleet of traitors including my own uncle. That bastard! He gave me my sentence to my face without remorse or sympathy for his once favourite niece. Well at least I can die knowing I was never his mindless pawn and that I defied him, that in itself it worth something. I should have known he would abandon me as soon as I was unprofitable just like all my friends and courtiers. They are probably having a masque right now, in which a handsome prince saves a golden haired maiden from some wanton wicked brunette witch, and everyone would be laughing to see the death of the witch knowing well my fate. Just like they did with Wolsey. We laughed and made merry as he took his life in a cell similar to this. I think it is ironic that my greatest enemy is so similar to me and it almost moves me to pity him. Almost. Despite my sympathy of knowing the torment of exile and awaiting death there is one thing that separates us. He was guilty and immoral and I am innocent. If I should die, I shall die innocent of these crimes. Like George. Oh my brother, my little brother who I should have protected and cared for, I lead him to his death because of my folly. And now he is dead, dead like all the others that loved me innocently. I have only just stopped weeping for them, because I know that tomorrow it will be my time to die and there is no point weeping for myself. I have to be strong and accept my fate. I cannot be anything but grateful for Henry's judgement; I have Elizabeth to think of. If I shame Henry and tell of his impotence or temper he will punish Elizabeth. I cannot do that to my daughter, I have to give her a chance to claim her birth right and not be remembered as the bastard child of the whore Anne Boleyn. I have to be strong.

My ladies sit sewing silently; flinching every time they hear the hammer hit the wood into place. They dare not look at me for fear that tears would flood their eyes. My little companions have been good to me, loyal as lapdogs and as well behaved as nuns. Especially Katherine Champernowne. She is so very protective of me, god help her when they come for me. She has been staring at me for the last hour or so, her black eyes filled with urgency focused on my back. It is as though she is imprinting my image into her mind so that I am gone she will never forget me. I find this thoughtful but irritating as I don't want to be watched, I have been watched since the day I was noticed by the king. I am tired of being constantly watched and studied. But I don't have the strength to tell her to stop, I cannot argue. What point is therein arguing when I am to die in less than a day? I look out of the window and over the walls of the Tower. The sky is so blue above the grim dirty city of London; it's almost like the sky at Hever, my childhood home. Bellow my window I can hear the workmen gossiping loudly and saying awful lies about me. They even sing dirty little bar songs about me. I turn away from the window, my temper slowly growing out of my frustration of being powerless against my attackers.

"My lady, are you alright?" Katherine Champernowne asked softly, looking up from her embroidery with her black eyes. I smile at her; at least one person cares about my well being.

"Yes, I am just tired, Katherine. Thank you for your concern." I say walking over to my small half empty jewellery box and giving her my last pearl necklace. As i place the necklace in her hand her fingers slowly enclose the necklace, hiding it from the darkness and unpleasantness of my cell. Her eyes water and she looks towards the floor.

"Thank you, your Majesty" she whispers as the emotion becomes too much for her. I place a comforting hand on her shoulder before I walk toward an empty stool by the fire place to think about what is to come, what has come to pass and what could have been.

*~B~*

I am woken suddenly in the middle of the night. Someone is shaking me. I suddenly panic, thinking of the small princes that were murdered not far from here. They were smothered in the night by assassins. Has Henry sent someone to privately kill me now like those little boys? Oh god I'm not even dress and I have not prayed for myself. I'm not ready to die.

"Lady Anne. Please wake up" A small voice calls from the darkness above me. I sit up trying desperately to see in the thick darkness for the glimmer of a blade but to no avail.

"I beg you. Let me pray for my soul before you kill me" I say desperately in no more than a whisper. It sounds more like a threat than a plea. I hear a small sigh.

"Lady Anne, it is me, Kat Champernowne. I need you to listen to me your grace. It is most important" she whispers.

"What is it Katherine? Has the king changed his mind and is going to send me to a nunnery?" I asked hopefully. She hushes me to lower my voice, the cell is silent and someone might hear us.

"No, my lady. But I have a plan to save your life. "She says so quietly I can barely believe I have heard her right. "But you most hurry, the sun is almost up."I sit in silence wondering how on earth she was going to save my life and get me out of here. But I am eager to escape.

"I understand, Katherine. What is your plan?"

"I will trade places with you." She declares evenly. I could have laughed at how stupid this sounded; the poor woman had clearly lost her wits.

"Katherine, if you trade places with me you will die." I say needlessly, her plan was too hopeful and optimistic. The point was someone had to die.

"I understand that, your grace. I have been planning this for weeks, everything is in order. "She says without a trace of emotion. I find myself suspecting her as a spy, is she trying to add more treason to the charges against me.

"What is your plan?" I ask slowly and suspiciously. She sits on my bed; I can feel the straw in the mattress shifting under her weight.

"Well I'd wear your clothes and you'd wear mine. You'd write a letter discharging Katherine Champernowne because the damp has affected her breathing. You'd then leave and go live with my sister Joan Champernowne and become me." She said. I sat and absorbed this information then challenged her.

"The guards would know it wasn't me. I know we look very much alike but they would know what had happened. Also the spectators would know it wasn't me."

"The guards have all been bribed and the spectators would believe you have been mistreated hence why you look and sound slightly different" she said without doubt. I had to admire her for her determination and self confidence. But mostly for the fact she would give her life for me.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask her, my voice filling with emotion as I realise I am going to be the cause of yet another death. I know she is smiling even though I cannot see it.

"Because you need to live for your daughter. She is the princess of our faith. If she does not become queen who will defend our faith? You must make sure she becomes queen to save the Protestants from the catholic powers. "Katherine said, finally showing the passion as to why she wanted to die. It wasn't for love of me but for love of god. She was going to die to save the protestant people. I patted the mattress until I found her hand and took it. We sat in silence in the dark. This was the last night one of us would have on this earth. Tomorrow Anne Boleyn was going to die but Katherine Champernowne had a chance to live and save my daughter.