“Only here do I know what it is to be a subject. How small I am against this king.” Perhaps he meant it to affect righteousness, but he sounded depressed, as if he would rule this world too if he could.
Anne bit her lip and kept walking.
“Anne,” he said, pulling against her, stopping her in the path.
She turned to look at him, and his face was that of a boy, lit with desire for some great prize. She noticed her stomach had turned sour and didn’t know if her head or her sovereign was to blame.
“Anne, I am your servant too.” He pulled a velvet drawstring from the pocket of his cloak and reached for her hand. She held it there stupidly, confused why this monarch would abase himself before her, when her sober judgment of him was so plainly spoken between them. But men had lost their lives for scorning his charity. She would at least not make their mistake.
He loosened the sack and dropped a fat green emerald ring into his palm before lifting it to set it on her ring finger on the right hand. It was a square-cut emerald, as big as a walnut. It weighed her hand down.
“Henry, I cannot accept this.” She took hold of the ring to pull it off. “This gift belongs to your wife, not me.”
His shoulders fell and he looked away from her. Shaking his head, he walked off a few paces. “Is there no one at this court who believes in me?” he muttered. “Anne, you have read the papers I delivered?”
“Of course,” she lied. These were endless technical papers drawn up by lawyers attesting that his marriage to Catherine was invalid.
“There can be no greater danger than a monarch ruling in dishonour. When I die, civil war would break out, a hundred different nobles claiming the throne for themselves. And who would die, Anne? Is it not the poorest, who send their sons into service when the grain gets low?”
“You have a daughter from Catherine to rule England when you’re gone,” Anne reminded him.
“What woman could rule England?” Henry bellowed.
“What does Queen Catherine say to the papers?”
He shrugged, coming back to her and taking her hands. “She will not read the papers, but she knows my intention. She will woo me back, or turn everyone against me.”
Anne tried to pull her hands out from his but he drew her closer yet. She was crushed against his chest, his arms wrapping around her waist, with her looking up at him, the sunlight burnishing his red hair and making his eyes glisten like embers.
“I will not be won. Only, do not abandon me, Anne. Swear it. Swear allegiance to your king.”
“Do not say that, my lord,” she whispered.
He crushed her tighter. “Swear allegiance to your king!”
“I swear my allegiance,” she said under her breath, thinking the pressure would cause her to black out.
She could smell his robes, anointed with cinnamon oil and spices, as the heavy gold and jeweled chain around his shoulders crushed into her skin. The shining hurt her eyes, and the world spun. She let him take more of her weight.
“Wolsey, More, the men of the Star Chamber, they would choose tranquility with her over my conscience,” he said. “I am suffering, but do you see me complaining in the streets? No. As a man, I do not matter. I do not exist. It is as king that I must act, and I must do what is right.”
“As must I,” she said, finally pushing him away. “I cannot lie with you. I cannot receive your gifts. You must not try to persuade me again. Let me return to the court and marry Lord Percy.”
He looked stung, but the look deepened as if the venom found a quick vein. “Lord Percy does not wait for you. He married another last week, did you not hear? A woman of excellent name.”
Anne gasped, her mouth hanging foolishly. She prayed she would not cry in front of him and bit her lip.
“I have brought you to my table, Anne, and given you a brace of cards. Whether you lose or win is your decision, but you are in the game. And you will wear that,” he said, pointing to the ring.
They walked back out into the sunlight, Anne clutching him harder. Her legs were weakening, and she had no energy to support her throbbing head. The guards and courtiers all averted their eyes. Wolsey walked to them.
Henry grabbed her hand and presented it, with the fat emerald upon it.
Wolsey’s mouth puckered. “Well.”
Henry burst out laughing. “Well,” he mimicked.
“You will not be dissuaded? You know the type of woman she is. You know what she brought into your courts,” Wolsey said with a shake of his head.
Henry bowed to her, a great embarrassment in front of the malicious court, and began his walk into the palace.
Wolsey began to follow him, but Anne grabbed his hand. It was cool in comparison to her own. Wolsey’s eyes narrowed, and he shook himself free.
“Please, Cardinal,” Anne said, “this is not my work.”
“What do you want from me, Anne? You have more influence with the king than I in this matter.”
“No! You have more influence,” she replied. “And you have the Pope’s ear.”
He studied her. “I thought you did not want to be a queen.”