On The Edge Of A Golden World: Anne Boleyn Lives On

Swift As The Wind

James' P.O.V

I cover my ears as the bells ring throughout the palace signifying the birth of Alexander's son, from his new spanish wife, Queen Isabel. The bells were sounded off three days ago, and Alexander demanded they be rung everyday of the next week in celebration of his little Prince William. The infant is small, and still weak from the difficult birth. He'd been born with the cord wrapped around his neck and hardly catching any breath, according to his nurse. The Lords of the court prayed that the little Prince grew fast, and survived. If he did it would be the begining of my demise. With a heir, Alexander's postion on the throne remained secure.

With my wife in another nation, I couldn't sire any children without leaving England. I couldn't take the risk of leaving English soil, because Alexander would take advantage of my departure. If anything is clear, it's that I do not need another obstacle between me and the throne. The little prince can't live to see the next year. I make a cross with my hand, kneeling at the alter, praying that God forgives me for giving the order that would leave my mouth later on in the evening.

Later on, the royal court feasted in honor of Prince William, who was in the royal nursey under heavy guard. I seperated myself from the court and went into one of the many halls of the palace, meeting my accomplice, Lady Tyrell. "Your highness, I am yours to command." I nod. "I want to see my nephew, but my brother will not permit it. The Lords believe the boy to be dead, and suspect the King of hiding the death." Lady Tyrell eyes widen, shaking her head hard. "His highness, little Prince William is very much alive and as his wet nurse, I can atest to this." I agree with her. "I want to believe you, Lady Tyrell, but I need to see it for myself. The Lords must hear it from my mouth that i've seen him, alive, with my own eyes. Do you wish for something to happen to the King?" She continues to shake her head "no". "All I need for you to do is stand outside of the nursey, while I observe the little Prince with my own eyes. It will only be for a moment." Her head falls in comtemplation, then rises with an uncertain expression. I place my hand on her shoulder. "I want to protect my brother, but I need your help Lady Tyrell." Finally giving in, she sighs and silently agrees.

After reaching the royal nursey I lie her, ordering her to stand watch, claiming that I need know she isn't attempting to distract me from any secrets. She falls for the lie and waits outside of the bed chamber. I walk over to the crib, where my small nephew is asleep. His small body covered by a silk blanket, with a fur edge. His small head is covered by brown, silky hair. His skin is still slightly red from his birth. His breathing is there, but slow. He gained a little weight from his daily feedings since his birth. William mirrored more of his mother than anything. I rub my hand slightly against his forehead. "I'm sorry." Sighing, I make my way over to the window, a few feet away from the crib. The cold, winter air enters the room as soon as I open the latch. Turning to the crib once more, I feel the tears gathering in  my eyes.

Pushing the window open more, I walk to the exit of the bed chamber, entering the play area of the nursey. The wet nurse smiles as I give her a warm look. "Everything seems well. You must take care with the little prince, he must'n catch even the slightest cold." She curtseys in response. As she rises from her bow my hand makes it way over her mouth, covered by a napkin. Her eyes water and her hands find their way to mine, attempting to fight me off. She is pulled into a chemically induced nap, as I drag her into the now shivering cold bed chamber. I place her unconcious body in a sleeping position on a rocking chair settled a few feet away from the crib. Observing the room once more, I prayed mentally for forgiveness one last time, before leaving the royal nursey. As I reach the hall, out of sight, I break down crying.

I could have easily gotten someone else to do this cruel crime for me, but the person who passes the sentence should always be the person to swing the sword. To have someone kill for me is cowardly and I intended to remember every lie and kill that I commit to get to the throne.

Next Morning...

I awoke to find the court in an uproar. After asking my page what happened he grimaced. "His highness, Prince William, died last night. His wetnurse left a window open, fell asleep and the poor babe froze to death." I nod my head,understanding, walking to the royal nursey where the Queen and my brother intergated the dazed wetnurse, Lady Tyrell. "Brother, what happened?" He harshly turnt to me. "This insolent fool cost me my firstborn son, that's what happened!" When he faced the poor servant once more, his hand met her cheek. I hissed, turning away from the painful scene. Queen Isabel was a mess, covered in tears and still not completely dressed either. She was being held up by her ladies as she cried her eyes out and the courtiers watched on in the background.

Facing the scene again, my eyes met with the wetnurse, wondering if she remembered anything. The toxins she inhaled should've muddled her memory, yet I have my doubts. She went still in her stance as our eyes met. I kept my composure and she began to babble incoherent words. Alexander threw his hands up in frustration. "Damn you, woman. Damn you to hell. You killed my son! I'll have your head for it. Take her!" Lady Tyrell began to panic as the guards escorted her away. Her legs gave out as she kicked and screamed to be release, shouting that she was innocent. I nodded, silently agreeing with her. My soul would surely burn for this or I'd be forever haunted for what I've done. But this is war & she and the baby were nothing more than sacrifices.

I felt eyes burning into the back of my head. Turning, I met Alexander's glare as he moved closer to me, where only we could hear our conversation. "Brother, you do not know anything about this dirty incident do you?" I shrug my shoulders, facing people around us, instead him. "In peace sons bury their father." I then stare directly into his eyes. "In war fathers bury their sons. And what can I say, brother? The peace between us is over." His eyes darken as he interprets my statement. "I'm going destroy everything you love. You are going to be sorry you ever crossed me, brother." Alexander is foaming by now as he threatens me. I only let out a sly chuckle. "You better speed those plans of yours along, because at this rate I will have your people begging for me to take the throne very soon. And we both know in war there is no prize for the runner-up...only death."

At a loss for words, Alexander backs away with a shocked expression on his face. I cock my eyebrow up, smiling smugly at him before leaving him to console his Spanish Queen. Before I can make my way though, he calls out to me, causing me to turn back to him and listen. He shakes his head in anger. "You gave up the throne, and now you go to war for it. You are more of a fool than I thought you to be." I let out a small laugh to his suprise.
 
     "I gave you the throne, because, like yourself, I hadn't done anything to earn it. Over the last few years I have gone to war to fight for our people. I am able to say I know the troubles of England and the benefits of being English. I've gotten to actually know your people and earn their trust, your majesty. They do not see me as their Prince. I am their friend. I'm doing what a King should do. A fool, you say? I am afriad you've mistaken my silence for ignorance. I think more than I speak. I see more than you realize. You've always hated me for no reason, brother." Stepping forward to him and staring him down, once more. "The only difference between now and then is that, now, I'm giving you a reason to hate me. Every single person who's ever wanted you on throne will come to my side. Every single person you love will grow to love me more. Like you, I will become King. Only difference is it won't be because of who I am or who our father is. I will not be the King they're forced to serve. I will be the King they chose to serve. That, brother, will be my legacy. And just like your son, you will be carried away by the winds."