Sixteen

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Anne had gone into labour during the early hours of dawn, at the end of September and the beginning of October, most of the English courtiers were worried as the labour came too early and many even suspected that the child was not the King's as rumours spread that Anne was spotted leaving the chambers of Henry Percy.

Perhaps Anne has a thing for men who have the name Henry.

Mary, at the behest of Elizabeth Boleyn, was at her sister's side shouting orders to the midwives along with that of Elizabeth since they have experienced in the matters of childbirth.
Lady Jane Rochford had gone pale at the sight of it all since she, too, was expecting a child.

Anne's pain was evident on her face as sweat caked her forehead as Mistress Sheldon continued to apply a cooling compress across her body as that was all she was adept to help with, she did at least try to be reassuring but the words were repeating as the labour continues, a fact that began to irritate Anne but for once she does not snap back in anger, instead she grits her teeth in determination to bring Henry's child into the world.

After her short-lived involvement with the King, Mary encouraged her sister, for she knew whether the child was a boy or girl, Royal bastard or not, the babe was a Boleyn.
Her kin.
Several hours into the labours, Anne gets a new perspective on life as a midwife state she was close to, with a final and agonising push, and her labours were finished.

"What is it?" Anne asked breathlessly, glancing at the midwives as they cleaned the child off, but there was no cry. "What is wrong?"
Fear danced across Anne's face as dread started to cloud her thoughts, Elizabeth peered over to look at her new grandchild, only to notice that the babe was having difficulty breathing.
"It is a girl."

No.
No.
No....
Anne let out a loud wail of grief as the midwives took the babe away, Mary did her best to console her sister, as she too delivered a stillborn daughter not too long ago.

Soon her newly born daughter was returned, cleaned and breathing, it was evident on Anne's face that she was disappointed of giving birth to a girl but that dis not stop her from placing a small peck on the babe's head.
"My beautiful child," She whispered, soothing the newborn babe as she began to fuss. "You were not what was promised, but that does not mean that I will love you any less."

______

It was quiet in the Boleyn family's chambers as the King was announced, followed by several groomsmen and surprisingly Lady Isabella De Angelo, Thomas Boleyn barely could look in the King's eyes as Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk did all the talking.

"I have heard that Anne had given birth to a girl." Henry replied as Norfolk nodded, Thomas Boleyn grip on his hat tightened as he swallowed his pride.
"She will do better next time, your majesty, this I vow to you."

Henry walked passed the men without another word, no one dared to question if the King would keep Anne in his favour, no dared to even question whether or not the King will request Anne to visit his bed again.

Anne sat in the bed, holding the newborn girl wrapped in a cloth of simple cotton. "I am so sorry."
Henry shook his head as he took hold of the baby, her eyes opened for a few seconds before closing - they were Boleyn eyes, similar to that of Anne's, but there were some scarlet curls upon the babe's crown, belonging to the House of Tudor.

It was clear that this girl was indeed a Tudor, a bastard but a Tudor nonetheless.

Anne's eyes immediately fell onto Isabella, and annoyance danced across her face. "Why are you here?"
Isabella merely gave Anne a smile, motioning for one of her maids to step forward. "I have come with a gift, Lady Anne, for you and your daughter."

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