The Boleyn Prince

Chapter 29

Sat on her chair of estate to the right-hand side of the King, Queen Anne stroked her thumbs with her fingers in anticipation of the imminent arrival of the French delegation.
She should not be nervous she told herself repeatedly. She had, after all, presided over many of these auspicious occasions, albeit never with so much at stake.
Today was about securing the future of her daughter as well as her son.
Her gaze drifted to the right-hand side of her chair, where Princess Elizabeth stood beside her, attired in a French cut gown in the royal colours of purple silk and cloth of gold that matched her mother's. Her copper Tudor hair shone from underneath a bejewelled French hood studded with pearls. Perfect for her daughter's first official public duties.
"Beautifully regal. A true Princess," Anne thought to herself with all the pride of an indulgent mother, marvelling at how well-behaved Elizabeth was being.
Her daughter was a natural-born princess.
She had never known such love than the love that she had for her children.
She had not thought herself capable after her romance with Henry Percy had been brought to its brutal end. She had always fancied that her feelings for him had been an all-consuming love, until she had become a mother. Now she recognised the difference. The loss of Percy had been heart-breaking, but he had ultimately proven to be a weak man and that diminished him in her eyes. She had risen again after the loss of him.
The loss of the children she had not carried to term still weighed on her heart. Every day she thought of them, prayed for their souls, and mourned for them. It made her cherish Elizabeth and Henry all the more fiercely. There was nothing she would not do for her children. They were her life, her solace.

She wondered how her life would have gone had their relationship not been broken. If she had been allowed to become Countess of Northumberland.

A blare of trumpets conveyed the admiral and his entourage into the Kings' Presence chamber.
He still carried himself with the same self-important arrogance that he had displayed the last time he had come to court when he had all but declared her daughter a bastard. Refusing King Francis's youngest son for her daughters because the Pope did not recognise her legitimacy.
That was before she had borne a son. Now that the Tudor succession was secure through her son, King Francis was only too happy to form an alliance.

"Your Excellency," Henry cried joyfully as he rose to his feet to embrace the Admiral as if the sight of this pompous man was the delight of his year. "Welcome back to my court,"

He pulled him close and spoke words that Anne could not hear.

"You remember my wife, Queen Anne."

Anne flashed her best courtier smile and nodded her head in greeting. "Welcome back to England, Monsieur le Admiral." Ushering Elizabeth forward, her dark eyes locked on him. "Allow me to present our daughter, Princess Elizabeth."

Anne observed him stiffen just ever so slightly as he securitized the little figure before him as if she were a filly, he was undecided if he wanted to purchase.
Remembering his manners, he offered a respectful bow to the child he had once insulted.
"Bonjour Monsieur le Admiral. Welcome to my father's court."
Elizabeth spoke confidently in perfect French, prompting a rapturous round of applause from the assembled courtiers. Even, Anne noted with a smile mixed with smug satisfaction and pride, from the Admiral himself who seemed considerably impressed with her efforts.

"Bravo" Chabot applauded with a perfunctory little bow.

"A most accomplished Princess, would you not agree, Monsieur le admiral?" Anne said loudly enough for the entire room to hear.

The smile of amusement slipped momentarily from the Admiral's face and Anne knew at once she had him beat. He had no option but to agree with her statement. To acknowledge Elizabeth as a princess, a legitimate child of a legitimate union. To do otherwise would surely risk Henry terminating the treaty.

"Indeed, madam," he concurred with another bow. But only Anne could see the daggers his beady eyes shot to her as he raised his head.

She cared not for his discomfort. For all of Anne's four years as Queen, the King of France had diplomatically staved off formally recognizing Anne as Queen or acknowledging Elizabeth as legitimate for fear of antagonizing the Emperor.
Both she and Henry had been reassured by his ambassadors that privately he rejoiced in the removal of Spanish influence from the English court. However, this was the first time that she had been able to illicit a public acknowledgement of her children's status from a French envoy, and she delighted in her triumph. She was one step closer to having her position and her children's rights of inheritance acknowledged and accepted by the other ruling houses in Europe.
She had been patient with Francis, allowing him to support her privately whilst Katherine remained alive. There was no need for pretence any longer. Katharine was dead. She was now the only undisputed Queen of England and with her son healthy and thriving in his cradle, that was where she would remain. Once the might of France recognized her position, others would surely follow.

"King Francis sends Your Majesty his brotherly love," she overheard the Admiral say as Henry led their guest over to the bay window on the other side of the Presence chamber, drawing him close so they would not be overheard.
Occasionally Henry's gaze drifted back over to her which she met every time with her dazzling smile. Every so often, the admiral would also glance her way and nod his head.

The signs were encouraging she thought to herself as she lay in bed that night after what had proved to be a promising start.
The welcome banquet had gone smoothly, and the admiral had cheered the tableau Anne had devised for his entertainment. All that was needed now was for him to recognise her position as Queen by requesting an audience with her, something he had failed to do on his last visit.
When the request came four days into the visit, Anne was jubilant. Finally, she was being accorded the proper respect as Queen.
She commanded her Master of Household to provide the best French and English wines and the most luxurious French delicacies. Her cooks begrudgingly worked through the night. However, they were easily sated with the promise of £30 gratuity. It was a hefty bribe, but Anne was so determined the audience would be perfect, she would willingly have doubled it to ensure complete success.

When he was shown into her apartments, she took satisfaction in his impressed looks as he inspected her lavish quarters.
The walls shone with gold and silver threads from exquisite tapestries. Thick Turkish rugs lined the floors. The embroidered blue and purple silk cushions with the entwined H and A symbols were placed on every chair and window seat for maximum comfort. Red and white roses bloomed in beautiful Venetian vases.
Its luxury was reminiscent of the chambers of Queen Claude, King Francis's wife, whom Anne had served for seven years had occupied. But where pious Claude had alters and an ornate prie due, Anne had bookcases, filled with beautiful manuscripts of religious teachings.

"Do sit down Monsieur," Anne said graciously. "Will you take wine?"

At once, two serving boys in blue and purple livery appeared at his side, each holding a large pewter jug.

"To your health madam," he said raising his goblet and taking a sip. "I compliment your taste. Delicious."

"Your master the King sent a thousand barrels to celebrate the birth of my son,"

The ambassadors' courtly veneer slipped only momentarily. He placed the goblet down on the small table beside his chair and cleared his throat.

"The King was delighted to receive such happy news, Your Majesty. He rejoiced as heartily as though he himself had been so blessed."

"How kind."

There was a brief silence before a sly smile appeared on the face of the admiral. "I understand further congratulations are in order. Your Majesty's brother has been promoted high in the King's favour and remarried."

Annes' courtly smile did not fall from her lips. "George has been made Duke of Gloucester," she confirmed. The pride was evident in her voice, recounting that remarkable morning when her brother had walked into the King's presence chamber as Viscount Rochford and left as Duke of Gloucester. "There have been a great many changes in England since you were last here,"

"So, I see," the admiral replied, in a tone that suggested he was far from impressed with the success of the Boleyn's.

Anne struggled to suppress her rising temper. Even now Francis's man tried to denigrate her. He would never have dared to speak to Katharine so. She was just as much a Queen as she had been. More so, she thought bitterly. she had given the King the son he so craved. He would follow his father on his throne. Thanks to the suppression of the monasteries, he would rule one of the richest and most powerful kingdoms in history, and his wife would share in it.
The French should be honoured she had chosen to champion their suit for her son's hand. They should be falling over themselves to pay tribute to her. She should not have to continue to suffer the indignity of the admirals' disrespect.
"For Elizabeth," she thought, trying to swallow her fury with a generous helping of wine.
"Alas sir, some things have not been remedied. The future of my daughter, Princess Elizabeth is still undecided." She placed a heavy emphasis on Elizabeth's title. She was determined to drive it home to the ambassador that no matter what the Pope ruled, or the royal courts of Europe whispered. Elizabeth was a royal princess of England.

"I was not aware, madame," the admiral said, in a tone that very much sounded like he knew precisely that Elizabeth was still not yet betrothed.

"The King and I are most anxious to settle the matter of our daughter's future," Anne said suggestively.

"Naturally, madam."

"The king has received suits from many of the ruling houses of Europe," Anne boasted, though the gloat was hollow. Only one major serious contender for Elizabeths hand had proposed an alliance. An obscure principality Anne had never heard of before.
It had the desired effect, however. The admiral lowered his drink, and an unmistakable flash of concern pierced his courtly veneer.