Evermore

Chapter X

BLOOD RUNS THICKER THAN WATER

The night cast a somber hue over the corridors of Hampton Court Palace, its shadows lengthening as King Henry rose with resolve. He had decreed the death of Jane Seymour, not out of personal animosity but to safeguard his queen and the future of England, anchored in Anne Boleyn's womb. It was a decision driven by duty and a need to affirm his unwavering love for Anne, overshadowing any lingering affection he held for the young Jane Seymour, whom he reluctantly condemned to death by signing her warrant.

"I know not what sorcery you've employed on my husband, but I hold more power than you realize," Queen Anne circled Jane Seymour in her quarters, having summoned her immediately upon receiving news of the death warrant. "I hold the titles of men in your family and their estates—your sister's as well. Your mother will pay for the sin of bringing you and your sinful brother into this world."

"Your Majesty—" Jane Seymour began, unaware of her impending fate, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please... I have done nothing wrong."

"If a man shall take his sister, his father's daughter, or his mother's daughter, and see her nakedness, it is a wicked thing," Lady Mary emerged from the shadows, quoting Leviticus 20:17.

Queen Anne nodded, her gaze piercing. "Indeed. The king has ordered your execution. You will join your father and brother in death."

"No!" Jane's cry echoed through the chamber. "I beg of you! Please! I don't want to die!"

"And neither did I!" Queen Anne's voice reverberated with raw emotion, memories of her own unjust trials flooding back.

"Your Majesty, please! It was not my doing! I never sought to be queen—" Jane pleaded desperately, falling to her knees.

"Nonsense!" Queen Anne dismissed with a roll of her eyes, kicking Jane away. "You were eager to take my place and endanger my children."

Jane recoiled, fear freezing her features as Queen Anne's words sank in.

"Lady Mary," Jane turned to her, attempting to enlist her sympathy. "From one devout Catholic to another, have pity on me! Send me not to the Tower, but to a nunnery to repent!"

Lady Mary hesitated, conflicted by familial loyalty and a burgeoning alliance with Queen Anne. "I cannot. Blood runs thicker than water. Your presence threatens my siblings—"

"Indeed it does," Jane retorted sharply. "But they are the king's legitimate heirs, not you."

"I'll have your tongue for that!" Queen Anne snapped, her patience at its limit. She lunged at Jane with ferocity, seizing her by the neck and thrusting her toward the fireplace. Jane's cries filled the room as flames engulfed her, a visceral spectacle of punishment.

Anne stepped back, her eyes fixed on the burning figure. Guilt and justification warred within her, but in that moment, she felt more alive than she had in years.

Mary gasped in horror, watching the scene unfold before her. The royal guards burst into the room, responding to the commotion, uncertain if Queen Anne or Jane was in peril.

"Help her," Anne ordered hoarsely, shaken by her own actions. She never imagined herself capable of such violence.

The guards rushed to Jane's aid, extinguishing the flames and assessing her condition.

"Take her away," Anne commanded, her voice strained. "The Prince and Princess will soon be here, and I will not have her haunting their dreams."

The guards lifted Jane's seemingly lifeless body, carrying her from the room. Mary's hands trembled as she watched, her thoughts racing.

As Anne turned away, a sudden dizziness overcame her. She stumbled and fell against a nearby piece of furniture, her head striking it with a dull thud. Unconsciousness claimed her, leaving her vulnerable and defenseless in the presence of the only other person in the room—Mary, daughter of the woman Anne had scorned and replaced.

Mary stood over Anne's fallen form, conflicted and uncertain. A surge of anger and grief pulsed through her. Jane had ruined her mother's life, but now Anne lay at her mercy, unconscious and fragile. A fleeting thought crossed Mary's mind—she could blame Jane for Anne's sudden demise, her father would believe it in his grief. It would rid her of Anne forever, freeing her from the woman who had changed her life irrevocably.

Mary hesitated, torn between vengeance and a fragile alliance. The future felt uncertain, her decisions weighted with consequence.