1524 Summer (QE)

Mary rubs her bulging stomach, with a pleased look on her face. "The king's physician says, that the babe is a boy." She coos.

"The physician's always predict boys. They are greeted with gold for those words and they always have a fifty percent chance of being correct." Anne states sarcastically, gaining a disapproving glare of her sister.

"The King's astrologer says it will be a boy also." Mary continues.

"He is a charlatan, you should know that," Anne says cynically.

Mary slams both her hands onto the bed. "I say it is a boy. Anne, leave it at that. I do not want to hear your jealous responses." She shouts like a toddler.

Anne stares at her sister flatly until she finishes her tantrum, she surprisingly keeps her response to herself. It has been like this for over a week, a bickering pair of sisters. I presume in a way there is little else for them both to do. The room is stuffy, the fire stoked to an almost unbearable heat. For Mary - in her chemise - she feels comfortably warm but for me and Anne it is cumbersome, to say the least.

I can feel sweat cloying behind my neck, trickling then clinging to my tight clothes. The darkness and lack of fresh air are making us all aggravated, easy to anger, in need of the summer air beyond this room. At least I can come and go as I please. Anne is mostly stuck, trying to keep her sister entertained but failing miserably as her own temper sparks. In her way, I suppose Anne is trying to prepare her sister for a girl, as we have been foretold it shall be. Mary will have none of it, though, she is adamant.

Moving my hand back and forth I try to stir a breeze, a breath of air but it helps little. I can only hope she gives birth soon, so we can all leave this room and not miss all of the summer as predicted.

Mary goes into labor during the early hours of dawn, at the end of June. Anne is at her side shouting orders towards the midwives, as if, she is the one with the most experience in matters of birth. I think I have gone pale at the sight of it all. Her pain is evident and the cooling compress across her skin is all that I am adept to help with. I try my best to be reassuring but the words are repeating on my tongue as the labor continues, a fact that is irritating Mary but for once she does not snap back in anger. She grits her teeth in determination, tries to breath deep, then pushes.

Anne after her initial involvement falls back to the side of the bed to help encourage her sister. Boy or girl, bastard or claimed, this newborn is still her blood, her family. Several hours in, Mary gains a new lease of life as the midwives state that she is close, with one final agonizing push, her labor finishes.

"Is it a boy?" She asks breathlessly.

The babe makes a sharp squeal from strong lungs before the midwife can answer. The midwife looks from the babe to mother. "It is a girl," she says.

Almost hesitantly she hands the newborn girl over to her mother. I see a frown crinkle upon Mary's forehead, her eyes fill with disappointment as she is told the news. Slowly she looks down at her baby cradled in her arms.

I wonder how many women have been disappointed in the palaces of England with that answer.

A few tears fall from her face and I am unsure whether from disappointment or love for her new child.

"The King will no longer love me." She whispers.

I do not voice my opinion although Anne is not so calm. "He did not love you, Mary. He is a King, and you were for a time his mistress but do not mistake it for love." She says.

"What will you name her?" I ask interrupting the next argument before it can begin.

"It is up to the King but I would like to call her Katherine." She says.

I smile in response. She looks at me with a glint in her eye. "For the Queen. I am sure Queen Katherine will approve."

"I doubt she will be overjoyed at the news but it is the most reasonable thing to do. She will be glad in any case that it is a girl you have born." Anne mutters.

"Katherine is a fine name," I say, my lips curled up in jest.

They both laugh at that, breaking the slowly mounting tension. "Katherine Carey," Mary whispers over her child.

Anne looks dumbfounded at her sister's admission. "Do not look so surprised Anne, I am not a dim-witted fool as you would like to believe. I know the King will not claim her now, after all, he already has a princess, he does not need another girl bearing his name." She states.

It is the truth, yet even I am surprised that Mary is willing enough to admit out loud what we all know. There will be no other Fitzroy for the King, just a new daughter for Master Carey.

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The King still celebrates and honors the Boleyn family with his attention at the feast. They are not given the expected property and titles they would have received if the child was born a boy. They smile and jest pretending they are happy enough with the outcome, yet, the whole court knows they are seething in disappointment. This is the closest they will get to having their bloodlines combined with royalty, had she been a boy, he would have been behind a Spanish daughter, and another bastard only a few years older than himself.

I make my way to the Howard quarters a place full of tension at the moment. Luckily most have decided to either drink their sorrows away or scrape at the Kings feet for any kind of gift. Mary is in her chamber, her lying in continues until she can be churched and be presented once more to court. Ironically, she will get little, if any, of the praise for her daughter's birth.

A few courtiers are sat among the mutual rooms, enjoying wine. I spot Master Ashley across the room and make my way towards him. We have not spoken since the garden, so many weeks ago, our duties taking us away from each other. Grabbing a goblet of wine I walk over to him. There are enough people here for it to be a social encounter than anything too un-ward.

"May I join you, Master Ashley?" I ask. He raises to bow before sitting back down with no answer. "How have you been?" I continue.

"I have been fine, Mistress Champernowne, how about yourself?" He says curtly.

"I have been well. You can call me Katherine, you know that." I say smiling sweetly. I wonder if he is feeling the families disappointment as his own.

"I believe it is more appropriate if I call you by your full name, we are not that informal." He states.

I frown. "Do not be absurd. We are on informal terms, at least we were?" I whisper.

He takes a large gulp of his drink before answering. "We use to be on those terms." He says not looking my way.

I blanch at his words, I am not sure if it is the wine or my worry but I move my hand under the table and give a reassuring squeeze to his leg. I hear his sharp intake of breath and for a moment I see his gaze fall upon me kindly. "What has changed?" I whisper.

He looks upon me now unsure on how to say what he wishes to speak. "Too much has changed, Mistress." He replies.

"I do not understand. We have had time apart but what has changed, why?" I whisper back in confusion.

His eyes gloss over sternly, marring his features, a look I have never seen him display before. His strong hand grips mine, removing it from himself. "You have attracted the King's attention." He says distastefully.

I start to deny it but he squeezes my hand sharply before letting it drop freely. "The whole Howard faction are talking about it. How the King will not have Mary back for his interest in you." He says harshly.

"These rumors have been circulating since the turning of the New Year. I have not been with him." I say truthfully.

"You will be." He says, as if, it is planned.

"I think I will be the one to decide that." My head rushes back to my mother's letter, her written words urging me to be with the King. I remember Henry's golden hair, easy smile, and fiery eyes and realize it might not be up to me. "I like you." I blurt out.

Before I can retract my thoughts, they are spoken. His gaze softens once more as he sees my struggle to hold back tears. "I can not compete with a King." He says.

"So you do not want me for fear of the King?" I say sharply.

"I want you, Katherine, by God I do." His words are barely audible."The King will have what he wants and if I stand in his way, my death will be on the cards. I am wise to fear him."

He still wants me.

"Would you still have me if the King had me and I was a maid no longer?" I ask.

He takes more wine. "Forget about me, Mistress Champernowne. I will try to do the same of you. I would have you, who would not, but I myself can not compete, I will only drag you down unless I raise my own station."

"I do not care for your station, I care for you." The wine is giving me confidence.

His lips quirk up at my words, he thinks me a fool for not caring about politics and nobility. "It is not just about wanting, Katherine." He says in despair. "You are a Lady, I am a serving guard at best. It will never happen. You have the chance to raise high, take it."

"It is all rumour, we could be wasting our affection for something that might not come to pass," I say pleadingly.

He looks around the room before replying. "It is not rumour, the King has asked about you." He says.

"To what purpose?" I ask.

"If you were betrothed to someone, or had desires for a person. If you were a maid still. If Lord Howard would give his blessing for a union, as your ward at this court." He whispers.

"What did Lord Howard say? For sure he would have tried to move the conversation onto Mary." I say.

"You would think so, but he knows the King too well, he knows when his mind is made up. He said you were a maid with no attachments." He hisses "And I had to stand there and listen."

"They were only questions," I say softly

Slamming his cup onto the table he calls for more wine, I sit patiently as his cup is refilled. "They were not just questions, they were jests."

"Jests?" I ask curiously.

"Will your hair feel like silk between his fingers, would you tremble at his touch, would you be as comely out of those clothes as you are within them." He hisses out the words.

I do not know what to say in response. I feel embarrassed that men were privy to such lude thought about myself, but, the anger it is stirring in Master Ashley is letting me know his true feelings towards me.

"We will talk again Master Ashley, when you ar not so angry or on wine. Together we will find away, I promise." I say seriously. I raise and he makes to bid me goodbye, although he stumbles. "Goodnight Master Ashley," I say.

"Goodnight, Mistress Champernowne." He says loudly. "Sweet dreams Kat." He whispers.