*Please leave a comment as to how this story is going! If you have any suggestions on things you'd like to see in future updates of the story, let me know and I will see if I can work it in!*
"I do humbly apologize about the... Untidiness of my home. I was not expecting guests. And certainly not one of high and noble ranking." Edward smiled a bit then added, "Your Majesty."
Anne smiled and continued to look about the room. There was a small kitchen with a fire pit and coal oven and a few scattered clay dishes and iron cooking supplies all about. She then turned to the living space where there were three wooden chairs surrounding a wooden table. Undealt cards were lain in the center along with a small stack of coins. On the other side was a wool sack and a couple of stools. In the hallway beyond, she saw some curtained-off rooms which she presumed were the privy and bedchambers.
"'Tis only one room. But if thee wishes, you might sleep here." Edward says, gesturing to the wool sack. "Or I could offer you my rooms, but that might be a bit strange for you, milady."
"I shall be fine here." Anne said.
"Then let me fetch you some blankets. Gets cold in the early springtime..."
"Thank you, you are a good man." She replied, softly.
"Might you require any food. Perhaps some tea?" Edward asked.
"No, thank you for the kindly offer, though. I might settle for the night." Anne delicately laid down on the makeshift bed and was soon asleep.
Edward couldn't take his eyes off her. God, she was beautiful and lovely and fair. What was he thinking though, believing that a Queen would fall for him. Sighing, he grabbed some blankets and settled them over her, his hand lightly brushing her arm. His fingers tingled at the touch and he felt his heart beat faster.
~Later that night...~
Edward woke up with a start to the sound of sobbing followed by quiet screams. He shoved the bedcovers aside and ran down the hall. There, in all her beauty, was Anne Boleyn. She was twisted in her blankets which were wet with her tears. She cried out so quietly and so brokenly. Edward wanted to help her somehow, but he didn't know how to. Should he whisper gently to her? Should he light the fire? Should he wake her up?
At last, he decided to kneel beside her and gently untwist the blankets. "Anne, don't fear. You are safe. You are safe." Edward gently stroked her trembling body and she opened those beautiful, deep, dark eyes of hers.
"I dreamed that I was dead. That I was to be executed." She whispered, "Oh, Edward. Tell me I'm safe." She curled her arms around him, holding him tight.
"You are safe, Anne. You are safe with me." He gently stroked her hair as she quietly cried into his shoulder.
"Thank you, Edward. Thank you." She kissed him delicately on the cheek and he felt his heart burn with passion. Not yet. Not yet. He thought to himself.
YOU ARE READING
Anne Boleyn Again
Historical FictionHenry VIII has annulled his marriage to Anne Boleyn and sent her to the Tower to die. But, much to his displeasure, the people of England are revolting. They are fighting for the life of a Queen they never truly loved. Now, Henry is forced to make a...
