Duchess Boleyn|The Tudors

Protestant Anne of Cleves

Trigger warning- Miscarriage
(Also it's a long one, so get comfy)

NARRATOR POV

Elena's body stilled at what the physician in front her her had just told her.

It has been 4 years since Charles came back from the rebellion,
4 years since she was pregnant with their 4th child
And 4 years since she lost that child 4 months in...

It was kept under wraps, Elena did not want the attention nor the pity, besides Charles has been sent back to carry out more executions soon after, so a child she would never be able to carry or hold or raise couldn't be the forefront of her worries.

Though she had made it clear to Charles that after that...that horrid night, where she woke up in agony coming from her and saw her own blood, the blood of her baby pouring out from her as she could do nothing but wail...

She had already picked out a names
Draco for a boy or Seren for a girl

Though now, she'd never know.

Never again. Or at least not for a while.

Well, 4 years was a while, it seemed.

"Are you alright, your grace?" The physician asked

A gracious smile, fake but gracious, worked it way onto Elena's features,
"Yes, I am elated, thank you doctor"

He bowed slightly and left her to her thoughts, her blood had not come for 3 months now...

Why didn't she go to the physicians sooner?, she didn't want to, she didn't want to know...

God have mercy, she was scared.

What if it ended up the same, with her crying, her skin stained with her own blood and the blood of her baby?

What if Charles isn't happy?

Is she happy?

Should she tell him?
Maybe not yet, maybe...maybe after the 4 month mark, after she could be more confident in the fact that this child would live...maybe
__________________________

Elena POV

Trying to act not pregnant was tricky, especially when I would throw up at ungodly hours of the morning and have craving at oh so annoying times of night.

Charles thought I was ill, he has sent a physician to me, I had explained that I was with child and simply waiting to tell Charles to be sure...to be sure that didn't happen again.

When I talk of it...I still hear my own screams that night, echoing throughout my mind, making me flinch, close my eyes and hide my face,

An unbearable memory.

I paid the physician Charles sent, off and he told Charles it was a mere cold, nothing to worry about but to keep me in bed rested.

Just one month left and I could tell him.

Though in other news, the king had finally gotten a portrait of Anne of Cleves, his new desired bride since he could not have the duchess of Milan,

I pray for her, though if she plays her cards right then, maybe just maybe she will come out of this a survivor and a queen

"Charles! Charles, what news of it!"
My heart was beating in my ears

A fleet has been seen, flying the black eagle, it had everyone on edge,

I looked to my side, hearing a giggle, my children were playing with small wooden horses,

God, I don't think my family can survive another tragedy,