The Other Wolsey (The Tudors Fanfic) DISCONTINUED

PART TWO. 19: The Court of France

Some Years later:

The sunlight was streaming in through the gap of the curtains early that morning. I rolled across my bed and pulled the covers over my shoulders. Sometimes it was mornings like this that I forgot the true reason why I was lying in a French bed in the French court...in France itself.

Since that morning I had left England Years ago, I'd been treading on eggshells here at the French court. Anne Boleyn was now Queen Anne of England. Much to Henrys embarrassment she had given birth to a daughter, princess Elisabeth. Poor Mary had been declared a bastard. I hadn't seen her in years and prayed she was well. The "true queen" Catherine was still alive, though rumour had it she was treated very badly. She'd been forced into isolation with no money and continuous rounds of disease and misery. I prayed for her to.

Thomas Boleyn was now a high and mighty and most powerful man. Thomas More, my fathers replacement as chancellor was no longer the chancellor. He resigned. Some say his loyalty to the king was no match for his loyalty to the pope and resigned in protest of Henry excommunicating the pope. I was not a super strong supporter of the pope, but I respected him and what he said, unlike Henry.

I heard Mr Cromwell was rising higher still. I lay in bed and sighed softly. It was a frustrating daily occurrence for me that he would cross my mind. Most days I thought of his name, his face and then pushed all thoughts of him aside till the next morning. Yet today I thought of his kiss. And when I thought of his kiss, I was to think of him all day.

I got up quickly and dressed before hurrying towards the Queens chambers to awaken her for the new day. I entered the chambers to find some ladies already there and I greeted them all in French. No one here spoke any English unless someone from England was present. In the beginning they all spoke very poor and slow English to me out of respect. Then they just got fed up and spoke in French anyway.

The Queen was soon dressed and the day begun at the court of the French. It was, as everyone knew a court of loose morals. Francis had been beyond happy to give me a place as a lady in waiting to his wife, but had pursued me often to try to make me his mistress. I'd always refused, as my body was reserved strictly for my husband, whoever he were to be. We passed the English ambassador, the man I trusted most at this court. Just yesterday he had told me of Anne Boleyns latest pregnancy. He bowed at us as we went past, to start another day at the court of King Francis.

The nights were getting colder across France. Francis as always kept good cheer and enjoyed himself most nights, whilst the Queen sat and tried to do the same. Christmas came and went and the new year was on the horizon. The king took mistresses still, the Queen waited for him to maybe join her in her bedchamber. Every night was the same almost. Nobody. Just the same group of ladies attending to her. I began to assist the Queen as she got ready for bed, helping her out of her lavish golden dress and making sure her dark black hair was perfectly smooth and beautiful.

"Were there any letters for me? From the king?" She asked in French. One of her ladies shook her head solemnly and the Queen just sighed and climbed into bed. We began to pull the curtains closed.

"Wait." The Queen spoke in English, with her thick French accent. We all stopped but I knew that she was speaking to me.

"Lady Wolsey." She smiled beckoning me over. The other ladies curtsied and hurried out. The Queen pointed to the edge of her bedside and I perched on. She remained sat up looking at me.

"How are you my lady?" She asked gently and I smiled.

"I am well Madam. Very well."

"Zit is almost the new year. Are you looking forward to it?"