This narrative revolves around Queen Anne Boleyn, the second wife of Henry VIII of England, whose reign was shrouded in intrigue and speculation. Some portrayed her as a sorceress who enchanted the king, leading him to break from his marriage to Cat...
"The bitch escaped, the bitch escaped. I didn't expect the King would have a change of heart." --- Thomas Cromwell, 1st Earl of Essex.
THE RETURN OF THE KING AS WITNESSED BY THOMAS CROMWELL
The She-Wolf persists in her existence. Not a surprising revelation. The King of England, in my opinion, displays a lamentable lack of judgment. "Why does he permit her continued existence?" I questioned one of my maids, only to be met with their inability to provide satisfactory answers. The infant also survives.
"She is a seductress. A shroud of darkness envelops us, and it is imperative to safeguard the King," I assert to the attendant and my secretaries. The King's emergence from his slumber proves to be a challenge. From my office window, I witness the arrival of the carriage. The King has returned in the company of the infamous Whore of England. The King's behavior is erratic. Any ruler unfit to distinguish a queen is unworthy to lead England.
Exhausted, I stand at my desk, contemplating the futile efforts expended. Men, currency, and witnesses all suggest Anne's betrayal of the King. He deserves a more suitable consort – one who unfailingly obeys, never questions, and exhibits no defiance. Anne Boleyn does not meet these criteria; she remains a significant thorn in my side. This woman, it seems, will persist in haunting my life.
Stepping away from my desk, I scrutinize the carriage, observing the King disembarking first, assisted by his groom and servants. Despite the weariness in my bones, I reach the window to witness the monarch's safe exit. It is my duty to be concerned for his safety. A council must be convened; reason needs to be injected into the King's head. England suffers under his failure. The title of Queen is bestowed upon the infamous Anne Boleyn.
As the King steps out of the carriage, he extends his hand to Anne Boleyn. My heart skips a beat as I see her emerge. My plans had included Jane Seymour taking her place – a lady perfectly suited for the English Court, one to be controlled and directed without question. Jane Seymour, the ideal Queen of England. Yet, here stands Anne Boleyn, miraculously alive. I had hoped the succubus would be reduced to decay on the ground.
Upon exiting the carriage, the King professes his love for her. She glances up at Whitehall Palace, catching my gaze. A slight smile plays on her lips. She is akin to the devil.
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