The Other Tudor Girl ((Slowly Updating))

Chapter 12

Hi there lovelies, It sure has been a while. It feels great to sit down again and try to write something. I must admit that I have actually forgot what I was writing about, so I just took out twenty minutes to try to recognize my work. Maybe I have not been putting all my effort into this. Yet here I am, I really hope you know that this is a slow build book. I do not have any special topics or plot set aside. 

Here I go again.....

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The one question that I am able to deduce is what is the point of life. It all depends on whose point of view you are looking at. Imaging a peasant family, what do they want in life? A sad reality is that they might never achieve anything, beside a ribbon for a pie baking contest. The older duchess, what does she want? Is there more to her life than rearing children and hoping her husband doesn't have affairs? 

What is the point of my life? What do I want? 

The question may seem simple, but there is no simple answer. 

Who wouldn't want to live their life as a princess, queen, or any royal? The highest rank besides the pope. I might not totally understand what royal life may bring, but from all the books and stories that I have read, our lives are never much happier than a middle class merchant. 

I awake another day, same sun, same routine. 

How can I make this day any different than the others to which I have seen. 

After I am ready I walk down to the throne room, my father can usually be found there during these times. I swiftly walk down the western staircase, I have mastered the elegant walk in heavy skirts and heels. I walk down counting each step, there are 101 steps: this is what is called a castle. I look at my dress hems, bouncing in a perfect rhythm with my step. 98,99,100

"Ack!" I trip on my dress and body starts falling down off of the last step. With the heavy dress I cannot balance myself, so I can only prepare to smash my face on the tile floors. 

"Oof!" Yet there is something, or someone that stops me from breaking my nose. At instinct, I wrap my arms around whoever saved me from my doom. 

"Are you okay?" A male voice seems to ask me. I scurry to stand upright and fix my dress.

"Yes, I am. I apologize for that. I seem to be a bit clumsy this morning". I say with  slight chuckle.

Finally looking up at my savior my chuckle ends as I meet his eyes. Clear brown eyes like toasted nuts, perfect facial structure with elven cheek bones. Wait, no. I should not be thinking about this. 

He finally speaks, "Of course, no worries."

I am about to introduce myself, also wanting to know his name. Yet he breaks me off.

"I must go, for I have duties to attend to." He tips his hat and smiles, walking away. 

I stand there frozen like a child who saw a ghost. 

My next goal, find out who that man was. 

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Hello there,

this was a bit short. some were saying that we would want this guy to be Thomas Cromwells son...what are your opinions and who would you want our dear Catherine to fall in love with? I can change around history so.....