The Other Henry VIII

Blackmail and Seduction

Princess Clara of England lay carefree on the vast green fields just over the hill from Westhorpe House, her hood lying cast off several feet away from her now fanned out auburn hair. She had unlaced the tight strings of her bodice and sleeves, welcoming the cool breeze that blew across the landscape. The sun shone brightly upon the princess, as if it approved of her behaviour and wanted her to stay on this open field forever.

Clara turned her head sideways, meeting the dark brown eyes of James Goodwin. He grinned warmly, using one hand to sweep his hair away from his face.

"I would've thought you'd be afraid of all the ants and things on the ground getting into your hair," asked James, blowing the chunk of the auburn mane nearest to his face away. Laughing, Clara sat up and pulled it over her other shoulder.

"It wouldn't matter, I wear it all up in hoods the entire day so nobody would notice,"the Princess replied. Her clear, precise speech contrasted strongly against James's rather rough and accented words. Perhaps Clara would have cared, perhaps she would have been disgusted at the thought of lying in the grass with a stable-hand, if she had been raised to view rank as very concrete barriers. But all that mattered now was the moment: this beautiful moment that she shared with the one person she thought could truly understand everything.

James rolled over and reached out to pick up the hood. His hard fingers stroked the small pearl detailing and satin layers with interest. "I don't understand why you have to wear this old thing. It weighs a ton." Clara rolled her eyes, copying those sophisticated court ladies she sometimes saw.

"No it doesn't. Give it back," she said jokingly, swiping in the air to take the hood back. James held it aloft, laughing. "Come and get it!"he called, springing to his feet and racing down the hill. Clara pushed herself up and hurtled after him, her hair flying out behind her like a cape. The wind rushed past her ears, whistling, and the Princess could only see James and is outstretched arm. She reached for it and-

James caught Clara in his arms just as she lunged for the hood. Her momentum sent them both to the ground, rolling down the hill, and when they reached the bottom Clara grabbed her hood from James hand. "Got you!"she cried out, cramming it onto her head again, but James knocked it off and pull her to the ground with him.

"No, I got you!"he declared triumphantly. Their peals of laughter filled the air with a sound as sweet as honey. There was no-one there to here the pair whooping with laughter as they teased each other, enjoying every stolen second. Somehow, nothing else mattered anymore.

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Little Anne Starling wrinkled her nose from behind an ash tree not far off, partly from the roughness of the tree bark under her delicate fingers and partly because of the sight she could see from about a hundred metres away. She was disgusted that a princess like Clara would allow herself to roll down a dirty hill wrestling with a lice-infested stable-boy. It was satisfying to see why the Princess was sneaking out, though. Anne turned away, ready to run back towards Westhorpe House and innocently question where Clara was, but she paused. Something clicked in her mind.

Perhaps she could use this to her advantage. The precious little princess would never want her father to find out about her adventures with a stable-boy... Anne smirked to herself. She wandered slowly through down the avenue of tree towards the mansion; there was no need to rush since Clara was probably going to take a while with that stable-boy.

Perhaps blackmail was in her blood.

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24th September 1522
Clara's POV

I slip through one of the servants' doors, the hood on my brown cloak pulled tight over my head and wrapped around my shoulders. My ornate French hood is tucked under my elbow for safe-keeping. I turn and watch James run back towards the stables with his dark hair bouncing on his forehead, dirty boots moving incredibly fast. He can run like a jack-rabbit when he wants too; so can I if the occasion calls for it. I can feel my mouth stretching into a subtle smile as I reach the cramped, dingy closet where I can hang the cloak and thin brown dress covering.