Tudor Rose

xxv. gilded cage

April 18, 1515

I grew rather bored of my new routine very quickly. I was confined to my chambers as if I were a caged animal. In a way, I was. The cage was constraining despite it's immense beauty. 

I called Clara over, needing someone to talk to. Occupying myself became a challenge. Without Mary, things grew quiet within my household. Even Isabell had become mellow and less ambitious. The lack of amusement often left me to my thoughts and worries, which never ended positively. I understandably worried for myself. Childbirth was a dangerous business, and with my added complications and pressure, I'd be lucky to even survive. 

"What's troubling you, my lady?" Clara asked.

"Quite a few things, actually," I admitted, "I'm frightened of the future, of my health, and of chickens."

"Chickens?" Clara asked. A few servants and other members of my household turned their heads to me, curious.

"Yes, chickens," I confirmed, "Nasty little birds. I was chased by one as a child, and it was not an enjoyable experience."

"For some, chickens are their livelihood, Your Majesty" Isabell chimed, barely suppressing a laugh.

"I pity them. Truly," I said, "Now, carry on. We don't need to discuss chickens any farther."

Clara smiled at me, hardly able to contain her own laughter. "You said you are frightened of the future?" she asked in a more serious tone. 

I nodded. "Yes. Who, in my position, wouldn't be? I'll likely die during childbirth, and my child's survival is questionable as well. I'm not even scared of dying, I'm scared of leaving my daughter and husband behind. I loved my mother dearly as a child, and I can't imagine growing up without one"

"I don't remember much about my mother. She died in childbirth when my sister was born," Clara said, "But you're such a strong person. I'm confident you'll survive."

Tears welled up in my eyes, unannounced. Talking about my possible death so openly didn't make it seem any easier. If anything, it raised the stakes. If I died, I left behind so much. A daughter. A throne. An empty throne was susceptible to conniving, ambitious women who wanted the king and the crown, not Henry and his love.

"If I do... die," I said, lowering my voice to a nearly inaudible whisper, "Will you look after Henry for me when I am gone? Comfort him, show him kindness?"

"Of course, my lady," Clara answered, the sincerest smile on her delicate face. 

"Clara, you are the kindest, most benevolent person I've ever met. I couldn't imagine anyone else taking my place."

A singe tear rolled down her face. "Anna, I'm... flattered, but you aren't going anywhere, not yet. You're like a sister to me. I can't imagine court without you. You make it feel alive."

"I don't want to leave this world quite yet, but it could happen, and I'd like you to fill my place. My children will need a mother, Henry will need a wife, and England will need a queen," I smiled sadly at her. She looked so worried, and I knew she could tell how scared I was. "You have a heart of gold unlike the other women who will try to worm their way into the king's heart. That will make him admire you, I think."

"Anna, you mustn't speak so negatively," Clara said, wiping the tears off of her face gently, "You won't die, I know it."

"I hope you are right, Clara," I answered, "But one can never be too careful or too prepared."

"You are right."

"Now," I said, "Help me dress. My daughter should be arriving any moment and I've hardly done anything today. I can't greet her dressed like this, can I?"