Tudor Rose

Greatness

August 1509 | Holbrook Residence

Anna was missing. She was missing, and Beatrice was wildly irritated because of it, so Elizabeth did the only thing it felt like she knew how to — hide. Being raised in Keswick meant that she had been surrounded by the most beautiful water since birth and Elizabeth in particular had always felt pulled towards it. So, when faced with the drama of her sisters, Elizabeth resigned to her favorite rivulet. With her, she brought a canvas not much bigger than her palm and a few small jars she stored paint in. Completely taken by the beauty around her, Elizabeth's problems vanished. It was a feeling like no other — addicting and freeing.

She sat beneath a tree, her back resting against the trunk. She pressed her head against it, closed her eyes, and breathed. It may as well have been her first true breath. In that moment, she was reborn. There was nothing left to worry about. Soon, she would find a husband and be swept away into her own safe haven. Far enough from her family to drown out the comparisons and impossible expectations. The farther Elizabeth went from her home, the closer she assumed she would feel to herself.

Each stroke of her paintbrush felt like a step towards something bigger than herself. She could not make herself more beautiful, but she could make something beautiful of her own. The colors blurred together — the sky and the water were one. In the distance, mountains loomed like ghosts. At a glance, the canvas was filled with a mess of blue and green and brown. To a trained eye, it was a skillful depiction of the landscape she saw and a perfect reflection of Elizabeth's mind. Peace and chaos blurring together, with streaks of color interrupting it all.

Beatrice was so beautiful and elegant. Anna was so smart and steadfast. And Elizabeth felt like she was not very much. She was caught between their undeniable greatness. But there, in the company of lakes and trees and mountains, she was so much. Creative, skilled, careful — she felt perfect and great all on her own. She tried so hard to hold onto that feeling, but it always slipped away from her. Slippery, fickle, taunting — that was the curse of knowing a feeling so pure. How could she possibly make that moment last forever? And although she could not figure out how to take that feeling with her, she knew she could take the canvas back. Each time she found that pureness hiding in a landscape, she poured herself into it. If she pretended to be a simple, careless painter, she thought it might make her insecurity fade from a beam of boldness into something much softer. Almost like that unsureness wasn't there at all.

From Elizabeth, no one expected much. But underneath her unassuming exterior, she was riveting and exceptional. She was everything her sisters could be, and more. Soon, everyone else would see that. She was going to seize this chance and make sure of it.

—

Anna was found just a few hours after her disappearance. She returned on her own accord, unharmed. She was simply acting dramatic. Such drama seemed to be the norm for her ever since the expectation that she would soon have to get married became a clear reality. There was not a world in which she could truly outrun this fate — she was the perfect Tudor rose, after all. A girl who was given every opportunity to succeed in life, as much as a woman of her time was able to. Why, she often wondered, was it so daring to dream of something bigger for herself?

When she returned home, Anna went to her mother immediately. Though it was accepted by those close to Katheryn that she was unwell, her daughters clung to the hope that a small piece of the woman they grew up with was still there. To desperate, hopeless Anna, mercy from her mother was her only hope.

"Mother," Anna greeted. She found the baroness standing in front of a mirror, staring blankly into it. "Mama, I need you to understand me," Anna continued, "I cannot go to Greenwich Palace. Please, I cannot leave here and go to that place."

The baroness did not turn away from the mirror, but her eyes flicked from her daughter's reflection to her own. "Did you know I used to be beautiful once? Such beauty," she said in her strange, hushed tone. "I wish you could have known me then. You are beautiful now; you are greater than I have ever been, Anna. You must go because a great woman belongs in that place."

Anna shook her head profusely, a few tears slipping out and running down her face in a way that mirrored the rivulets running throughout the Holbrook property. Her mother often seemed distant and dissociated, but this moment of clarity showed Anna nothing except the truth. If the world was at her fingertips, why should she hide from it? She noted that her mother did not project a marriage and children onto her; she just said that she was great, and had the potential to be so much more than just a daughter. She could be a muse of the world's greatest story, if she only left her childhood home. She could be a wonderful woman, if she only let herself.

—

August 1509 | Greenwich Palace

Before the sun fully rose the next morning, the three girls had been sent off. Around them, everyone let out a final sigh of relief. There was no promise or guarantee that they would find anything worthwhile out there, but there was hope. Though the girls seemed to be riding off in a direction far from all of life's biggest qualms, there was a silent understanding that bigger problems and harsher danger was awaiting them at court. No one said it, but everyone knew.

The road to Greenwich Palace from Greta Hall — the formal name of the main Holbrook family residence — was a long but mostly easy one. Along the way, there was not a single setback; no interruptions at all. Fate was set on delivering the three girls to the king's court.

Upon arrival, the girls marveled at the palace. It was more beautiful than they dreamed, and even more impossible to think they would be living there. Buzzing from the anticipation, they were led through a grand hall and into their chambers. As expected, they were staying at court under the supervision of their uncle, who held a position at court and happened to have his own daughter there. Francesca, the girls' second cousin, was an exemplary young woman and the perfect guide for living at court successfully.

Despite being family, Francesca was very distant from her cousins. She was born just before her mother's death. Her father was a simple but respectable knight and he was blessed to have a near perfect daughter — resourceful, kind, and fair. Some of her features looked as if they had been plucked straight from the three Holbrook sisters. She had the fair skin of Beatrice, the round eyes of Elizabeth, and the lean frame of Anna. But some were wholly her own, particularly her reddish brown hair. There was a time when she was almost like another sister, but time was a cruel thing. It had been nearly a decade since the four girls were all gathered in the same room, a product of Thomas Holbrook's ego. Titleless cousins were not held with much regard to him.

"Oh, my heart is bursting!" Francesca exclaimed when she finally laid eyes on her beloved cousins. She rushed over to greet each of them, chatting animatedly as she did so. "I am so glad to see you! How was your journey here? Oh, nevermind that; it is over now and does not matter. More importantly, you are to be presented to the king soon! How special!"

Beatrice, the best conversationalist of the three, was first to reply. "This has been a thrilling but exhausting journey for us. It seems that our real journey has just begun, though."

Francesca smiled softly, placing her hands over her heart. "And what a lovely journey it will be! There is such promise for the three of you."

"And for you, cousin!" Beatrice continued, "Our delayed, but most sincere, congratulations to you on your engagement. A baron for you!"

"What a wonderful baroness you shall make," Elizabeth added.

Francesca, face flushed, could hardly speak from the joy of it all. "Life at court has been too kind to me. I am rather concerned that I will wake from this heaven one day to find it has been a dream all along."

While Beatrice, Elizabeth, and Francesca continued in conversation, Anna sulked on her own. She sat politely in a chair beside her cousin, gazing wistfully out the open window. The summer air seeped into the room, heat from outside mixing with the warm conversation.

"What is heaven to you feels quite like an entrapment to me," Anna sighed pessimistically. She turned to her cousin. "Francesca, honestly, what do you foresee for us here?"

Francesca's lips curled into a friendly smile. "I foresee greatness, of course. Nothing less for you Holbrook girls."