Evermore

Chapter VI

AN UNLIKELY ALLIANCE

Greenwich Palace, May 24, 1536

Henry knew he couldn't leave things with Anne as they were. Despite their strained relationship, he still harbored deep affection for her. The passion that once burned between them lingered in his heart, and he longed to reignite it. However, he understood that restoring their bond would require significant effort. Therefore, he made decisive moves to reshape Anne's court and assert his authority.

In a bold move, Henry dismissed all of Anne's ladies-in-waiting who had testified against her during the recent turmoil. Their abrupt removal sent shockwaves through the court, swiftly spreading gossip and intrigue. Among those banished were their husbands, and even Cardinal Wolsey faced execution for alleged treason, a stark reminder of Henry's determination to control his realm.

Amidst the upheaval, one figure remained conspicuously untouched: Jane Seymour. Henry saw her as a temporary solace for his physical needs, unwilling to abandon her allure just yet, despite the turmoil it caused with Anne.

Word of the dismissals reached Mary swiftly, stirring conflicting emotions within her. Shock mingled with a sense of betrayal toward her father's actions, especially as he retained Jane Seymour by his side. Anne, equally incensed, barged into Mary's bedchamber unannounced, her elegant gown a stark contrast to her stormy expression.

"Pray tell, Lady Mary, how does your father expect me to forgive him when he keeps his mistress by his side?" Anne's voice cut through Mary's quiet needlework, demanding attention.

Mary nearly let a sharp retort slip, but she bit her tongue, opting instead for a respectful nod toward her maids as they discreetly withdrew. "I know not, Your Majesty," she replied evenly, trying to conceal her inner turmoil.

Anne, ever perceptive, closed the distance between them, her gaze piercing. "I was contemplating reinstating you as one of his heirs, Mary," she mused aloud, her tone a mix of calculation and curiosity. "But first, I must ascertain where your loyalty lies— with me or with his paramour."

Mary felt a surge of defiance rise within her, but she composed herself, drawing upon her resolve. "I am loyal to the crown, Your Majesty," she stated firmly, meeting Anne's intense gaze head-on. "And to those who serve it faithfully."

A faint smile tugged at Anne's lips, a hint of approval in her eyes. "I know you are, Mary," she acknowledged, her voice softening slightly. "But I seek more than mere allegiance to the crown. I seek your loyalty to me. We have had our differences, but also moments of understanding, like when I taught you to fly a kite in your mother's service."

Mary's mind flashed back to that day, a rare memory of kindness amidst the tumult of her parents' divorce. She hesitated, unsure of Anne's motives but unable to deny the resonance of their shared history.

"Why do you seek my loyalty now?" Mary asked cautiously, her hands gripping her needlework tightly as she struggled to gauge Anne's intentions.

Anne reached out, her touch unsettling, and Mary instinctively pulled away, standing to assert her own space. "Because, my dear Mary," Anne began, her tone shifting subtly, "during my time in the Tower, I realized the power of religion— particularly for a Catholic like yourself. Your lineage and faith could sway influential figures, including the Pope and Spain."

Confusion clouded Mary's expression as she tried to grasp Anne's meaning. "You want me to support you in becoming Catholic?" she questioned, incredulous. "And to use my faith as leverage against my own father?"

Anne's smile widened, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Not openly, of course," she countered smoothly, pacing thoughtfully before Mary. "We can work discreetly to sway the Pope in our favor, to protect both our interests and ensure the future of your brother."

Mary wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between duty to her father and empathy for Anne's plight. "My father has gone to great lengths to defy the Pope for you," she argued, her voice tinged with apprehension. "He may not take kindly to such schemes."

Anne's laughter rang out unexpectedly, echoing in the tense atmosphere of the bedchamber. "Oh, Mary, you underestimate our ability to maneuver in these political waters," she replied, amusement dancing in her eyes. "We need not inform your father of every move."

Before Mary could respond, a commotion at the door interrupted their discussion. Jane Seymour, visibly distraught, entered without proper announcement, her presence unwelcome.

"Forgive me, Your Ladyship, but you cannot access Lady Mary without invitation," a guard interjected, trying to maintain decorum in the face of Jane's breach of protocol.

Anne stepped forward, shielding Mary from Jane's intrusion with an imperious glance. "As you can see, Lady Seymour," she remarked coolly, "Lady Mary requires an invitation to her presence, which you have not been granted."

Mary observed Jane's crestfallen expression with a mixture of pity and resolve. She knew the stakes of loyalty were high, and aligning herself openly with Anne could alter her standing in her father's eyes irreversibly.

"And you shall not receive one from me," Mary declared firmly, stepping into the light and asserting her position. "For I am as loyal to the Queen as I am to the Crown."

Jane's face fell further, her dismay evident as she faced the united front of Anne and Mary. The implications of their alliance loomed large, and she left the chamber with a heavy heart, realizing the challenges ahead now that these formidable women had aligned against her.