The Other Henry VIII

Deceit and Manipulation

The shadows seemed to move in the dark chamber as Diana walked into the middle of it. She had ordered the servants to push the sparse furniture to the side: seeing as this was only the entrance hall to her chambers, the furniture didn't really have much of a use.
It wasn't stupid, that she'd dressed in her corset and underskirt, was it? Oh well, it probably was. No matter—it was something stupid, spontaneous...the King wouldn't know what had hit him.

She pushed back the curls of her hair, trying to hold it down and out of the way so that she could dance...

Diana closed her eyes and lifted her arm slowly and gracefully. Then the other one, up above her head. Curl the fingers; relax the wrists; incline the head. She raised one foot, took a light, leaping step and began to dance.

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It was a long time before the King had finished making merry with his men downstairs. Diana had been dancing for more than an hour, taking small breaks where she would sit in the armchair and ponder on what she was actually going to do when Henry arrived. Thomas Cromwell passed by after about an hour, and being the admirer he was couldn't help peering through a gap in the door to watch Diana dance for a couple of minutes.

When at last Diana really began to feel tired from dancing, she heard the door quietly creak open behind her. The shadows shot across the floor, making way for the dim light of a candle. She smiled, but carried on dancing as if she did not see her visitor.
Diana then spun swiftly towards him, keep one arm outstretched and the other down...

She felt the King take her hand, and pull it down so he could kiss it lightly. Diana stopped and turned to him, her face fixed in an enchanting smile as she curtsied before him.
And then, they began to dance together.

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Diana smiled knowingly as they finished the dance. She was aware of what would happen next, and she had to take control. The King bowed, keeping his bright eyes fixed on her face, before striding towards her and kissing her firmly.
Diana wrapped her arms around his neck, but upon feeling him pulling the cords off her corset she slapped his arm away.

"You wanna play like that?"growled the King jokingly. Diana laughed and ran towards the bedchamber while the King chased after her.
"You'll have to catch me first!"she cried out, disappearing into the next chamber.
The King broke through the doors to see Diana lying propped up on her bed with one raised eyebrow and the corner of her lip just slightly upturned. He smirked.

"Caught you,"he announced triumphantly, throwing off his shirt, and shut the door behind him.

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20th June 1521

"And so?"demanded the Duke of Norfolk, banging his fist on the table. "Did Her Majesty do what we told her? Was it carried out?" Catherine clutched her hands together behind her back, her eyes wandering across the floor.

"Speak, girl! Did Her Majesty tell you or not?"joined in Sir James Starling, moving towards his niece threateningly.
"Yes..." She sounded proud that Diana had confided in her, so naturally the Duke humbled her.

"And?"he demanded, grabbing Catherine by the shoulders and shaking her firmly.
"She says that it was successful,"replied Catherine smugly. Her grandfather released her, grinning.
"So our little Queen has not lost her spark,"he sneered.
"And thank the Good Lord,"added Sir James and dismissed Catherine with a wave of his hand.

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26th June 1521

Diana marched though the corridors, arched eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, fists clenched. The folds of her emerald gown bounced up and down in time with the click-clack of the heels on her shoes. Catherine stumbled after her anxiously, wincing as Diana growled in frustration.

"My lady, I didn't mean- "

"Oh I know exactly what you meant, Mistress Catherine. It took you long enough to tell me,"spat Diana, ignoring the passing courtiers who stared in confusion. "My uncle and grandfather deserve exactly what they're going to get." She turned a corner and burst into the meeting room of the Privy Council in a blaze of fury.

The Duke of Norfolk, Lord High Treasurer, sat at the high end of the table next to the King. Every member of the council looked up to see who had entered, and stood up respectfully when they saw who it was.

"Diana, we are in the middle of an important meeting,"stated the King, rising also and slowly moving towards his wife.

"I am aware of that,"replied Diana, glancing with disinterest at the papers on the table, "but I would very much like it if I could speak to my grandfather." The King pondered for a moment.

"Very well,"he said finally, gesturing for the Duke to leave.

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"I am not a child, Your Grace, so you have no right to treat me like one! I am the Queen of England! I am entitled to a great deal more respect than you bestow upon me!"Diana hissed.

"You should have thought about respect when you failed to give the King a son! What use have we for princesses? His Majesty already had one and God knows he loves her more than he will ever love yours!"replied the Duke patronisingly.

"What reason do you have to worry? My brother has a son in the cradle with as much royal blood as my son would!"

"You are twenty-seven-years-old! Your time for childbearing shall soon be over! We all know the King could marry again and have a son by a Cavill or a Westover. Where would that leave us?"

"You do not need to chide me, Your Grace," answered Diana calmly. "I shall be with child soon and this time it shall be a boy."

"Let us pray it shall be,"said her grandfather cruelly, "for I don't think that you understand what will happen if it is not." With that, he swung open the door of the anti-chamber and marched down the corridor towards the meeting room.

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2nd August 1521
Diana sat at the head of the table. She watched the dancers in front of her with false interest that she had somehow mustered. After all, her duty was to please the King and she had to at least seem involved otherwise he would suspect something was wrong.
Today was the day the three Royal Princesses arrived at court to visit their father, who had not seen them in nearly two years.
Breathing deeply, Diana bit her lip. Anxiety clouded her eyes, trying to find somewhere to spill out. Her fingers curled around the arms of the chair loosely.
Yes, it would be good to see her daughters again...but Clara was now nine years old. She would probably be developing into a pretty young lady, intelligent and mature. Diana's own daughters Elizabeth and Esther were three and two—they'd still be babies in Henry's eyes and a burden to everyone.

She had to tell the King tonight.