The Italian Rose

Four:

There was to be a feast to celebrate one of the many Saints, Henry couldn't exactly remember which Saint, but since England was devoted to the Catholic faith- it was custom to celebrate them.
Usually, the Queen avoided such gatherings as these, so Henry escorted Anne to the feast, but he stopped as Catherine sat upon the Queen's throne and she wasn't alone.

Sitting in her lap was his beloved Pearl, Mary, who happened to be having a conversation with the maiden that had caught his attention a few nights ago; who had distracted him from what he originally went to speak to Catherine about.

Henry's spies within the noble families that occupy his court came back with the needed information regarding the new woman in the Queen's service, Isabella De Angelo. A woman of noble birth, granddaughter of the retired Italian Ambassador and cousin to one of the many illegitimate nephews of the Pope, her mother also had Royal lineage within the French bloodline. Rumours also state that Isabella's older sister was a mistress of the French King, but there was no actual proof to these rumours as Francis had yet to make it official.

Anne's grip on Henry's hand tightened before dropping into deep curtsey to Catherine, who gave no attention to the Boleyn woman.
"My Queen." Henry spoke, bowing his head, his eyes immediately fell onto Isabella.
"Husband."

Mary wriggled out of Catherine's hold, walking over to Henry, curtseying deeply. "Your majesty."
Henry held out his arms, allowing Mary to run into them. "Mary, my sweet Pearl."

The King immediately noticed that Catherine was wearing a dress made of dark purple, gold embroidered silk flowers lined the sleeves and her hair was covered with a Spanish Hood- the fashion was fit for a woman of her age and station. Some of her elderly ladies wore similar gowns of deep blues and greens. The only one to stand out slightly was Isabella.

Isabella wore a dress of emerald green that matched her eyes with black lace trim that hemmed the cleavage and sleeves, from under the small Spanish hood, her hair was pulled into an elegant style as some loose curls framed her face.

Henry found himself comparing Isabella to Anne, who stood off to the side with Norfolk and her father, her sharp eyes dancing between Henry and the Queen-
It was true he was seeking an annulment for his marriage to Catherine, but it did not mean that Anne was to be his next wife, her noble birth and family status wouldn't allow it- no matter if Henry made her a Marquess and Thomas Boleyn an Earl, the law was the law.

Heavens, even Isabella De Angelo had more chances of becoming Queen of England than Anne ever could, Henry felt guilty for stringing Anne for almost seven years with hopes of becoming Queen- he even kept his promise of not taking another mistress as long as Anne held any feelings for him.

Though he was starting to become bored of this ruse- Henry was almost ready to break away from the Catholic Church in order to be free from Catherine.

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When the King offered Catherine to dance with him, as she was still the Queen, she had fiend tiredness and offered the Lady Isabella in her honour.
Catherine observed with keen eyes as the Boleyn family glared at the woman who had occupied the King's attention. A small smirk came across her face as Anne Boleyn seemed annoyed more than anything.

The music was light, easy enough for Isabella and the King to dance to. He couldn't help but feel a slight spark between them as they touched. It was as if no one else were in the room. It was Henry and Isabella. They danced for a while, and when the music came to an end- Henry was brought back to reality.

"Thank you for the dance, Lady Isabella."
"Your majesty." She replied, falling into a deep curtsey, the light dancing off her golden hair like a halo.