*unedited*
News of the Queen giving birth to a baby boy spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom of England. The royal family as well as those of the court rejoiced; alas the Great King of England's search for an heir was no more.
However, the baby was weak, and it's mother equally as fragile. Henry was unsettled. He paced and he paced and he paced outside his wife's bedroom every morning, wondering who were to raise his son if she passed.
One morning, a timid maid interrupted him.
"Y-your Majesty...um- the Q-Queen Jane requests you bring the Lord and Lady Anne Seymour to court. She fears she shall pass and desires to lay eyes on their children." She squeaked.
Henry licked his lips, fingers combing through his short beard in...worried curiosity. He gave the girl a curt nod and she hurried to relay the message to the appropriate party.
The King, after days of pacing, chose this moment to make his presence known in his wife's chambers. There he saw her, skin grey, lips chapped, eyes heavy and yet...they were delightfully looking at her son, young Edward with the most love.
A mother's love.
She looked up, her blonde locks falling loosely beside her, and over her shoulders. "My King...is he not beautiful?" She asked, managing to pull her small mouth into a pathetic smile. "He takes completely after myself."
Henry stared, only managing to nod. It was silent for a while longer and the Queen looked up at her husband. "I have called for my dearest brother and his wife to attend to us. I...I have fears that I shall not have any breath in me come a few months. It is in my best wishes to make known their beautiful babes to their cousin Edward." Jane informed.
"So Anne has birthed. A boy or a girl, I wonder?" Henry thought to himself.
He was interested.
Awed, in fact.
"A girl or a boy? The babe she has birthed?" He held his hands behind his back and moved to the long window as he said this, looking out to the land he owned.
"Our Dearest Lady Anne has made Darling Edward so very pleased. It is a strong match indeed. She has birthed -"
A desperate wail escaped from the baby, and he wriggled his arms and legs in distress. A maid came running in, willing to take the child from the Queen in order to nurse it.
"No, no. I shall nurse him myself. I fear for my life. I will take as much time with him as I possibly can." Jane told her, gently ushering her away.
And to give her privacy, the King turned and made his exit. He would see for himself whether the rumours were true. If they even were, he didn't expect the child to be in good health. Anne could not carry; Cromwell had made sure to consult the Royal Physician. His most trusted man could not make such a mistake as grave.
