A Short Story about Anne Boleyn

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England, 1536--Greenwich Courtyard, April 30
A king--stature so stately, and a queen--elevated so high, and then fallen so low. It was a dusky evening, and the king was strolling in the courtyard of Greenwich Palace after an afternoon of merriment, when he heard a voice.
“Your Majesty! Henry!”
The king turned. “Anne!” he said, not so much delighted as puzzled.
“Your Majesty, I beg of you! For the love of our child, have some mercy! Give me another chance!” The Queen’s dark hair was slipping out of it’s pins, her hood askew. Her eyes were pleading, her face frantic. She clutched Princess Elizabeth in her arms.
Henry glared at her. He was almost moved to be forgiving, looking at her dark eyes beseechingly looking at him, but quickly changed his mind. This woman had lured him with her exotic, irresistible beauty, and she had tricked him. There was no need for mercy. “You failed to give me a son. You lied to me. I will give you no more chances!”
 Anne’s eyes filled with tears. “Henry! You loved me! I thought you loved me! Can you not spare some kindness! Look at our child!” Princess Elizabeth squirmed in her mother’s arms and turned around to look at her father. Met by this menacing figure she quickly hid her face in her mother’s gown.
“I loved you! For the sake of this love, please, I beg of you! Henry!” This last was cried out in vain as the great king turned away from his wife, ornate cloak swinging as he strode away, callous to his wife’s pleas.
Anne stood forlornly, tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched her husband disappear into the distance, before she sank to the ground in utter despair, burying her head in little Elizabeth’s dress.
~~
The next day she tried again, carrying Elizabeth past Henry’s window, but he did not come out. He was with Jane Seymour, the little blond lady-in-waiting that had replaced Anne in Henry’s affections. He had flirted with her, gratified that she was the entire opposite of Anne, who was dark, bold, passionate and vivacious compared to meek, fair, quiet Jane.
Hurrying away, with no success, Anne wondered despairingly if Henry would finally show her mercy, or she would lose.
She lost.

This story is based on a true event.