Free Le Temps Viendra: A Novel of Anne Boleyn by Sarah A. Morris Page A

bathing the castle’s guests in a subdued yellow and orange light.
    I had seen this room before, when I last visited the castle in my other lifetime. I admired its grand proportions, yet it managed to maintain an intimate and cosy atmosphere. However, unlike the appearance of the much aggrandized 21st century room, there was no oak paneling to be seen. Instead, a series of tapestries highlighted the white, lime-washed stone walls. I admired those tapestries afresh; the arras I had seen in my modern life were faded and somewhat past their best. However, the ones hung on the walls that day were alive with vibrant colours of red, blue, violet and green, set against shimmering silver thread work. The largest of the set was hung behind the dais at the high end of the chamber; whilst along the walls were a number of large, oak chests displaying the best of the family’s plate.
    When I visited the castle in my modern life, I had always reflected wistfully how lonely this room appeared. I had imagined Sir Thomas, his wife, their children and perhaps some local gentry and neighbours talking and laughing about the latest gossip at court. But that night left nothing to the imagination. The room was full. A buzz of excited chatter filled the air, punctuated every so often by an outburst of raucous laughter.
    Laid in a horseshoe shape around the centre of the room were three long trestle-tables dressed with white linen cloths. Over forty people filled the room; many were already seated, whilst some stood around chatting nonchalantly with their friends. Weaving in and out of the courtiers were some rather harassed looking servants, each bearing flagons of ale, goblets of wine, as well as ewers and basins so that diners could wash their hands before eating. Somehow managing to rise above the general hubbub of noise was the most beautiful and melodic Tudor lute music. It floated down from the minstrel’s gallery above my head as if it were being played by angels in heaven.
    I immediately noticed the King. He was already seated at the head of one of the trestle-tables, which had been positioned across the high end of the chamber. Henry was deep in conversation with my father, Sir Thomas. Beyond Sir Thomas, on his right hand side, my mother was engaged by a rather gruff looking elderly gentleman. For an awful moment, I was unsure what I should do next. However, before I had any chance to think further on it, one of our servants came up to my side. Inclining his head in a polite bow, he opened his arm gesturing for me to follow him towards a vacant seat at the left hand side of the King. As I made my way toward it, I saw many heads turn in my direction and I wondered what they were thinking. I was dressed in a sumptuous gown of the deepest scarlet satin. I knew this only enhanced the striking appearance of Anne’s dark hair and olive complexion. Embroidery of gold thread trimmed the square-cut neck line, whilst about my neck, and lying upon the gentle swell of my breasts, I wore a parure of pearls and rubies. I assumed that such a beautiful piece of jewellery had clearly been a gift from the King. To compliment it, matching billaments adorned my French hood, whilst a girdle ending in a gold pomander was clipped about my tiny waist. I wondered, were those that watched me simply appreciating the elegance of my attire, or, had I already seen jealousy alight in their eyes?
    As I approached the King, Henry turned his attention towards me. I saw enormous pride and desire in his eyes as he took in my beauty.
    ‘Anne! At last you have joined us; we have been missing your company entirely.’ He nodded his head respectfully and indicated for me to sit by his side. ‘Your father and I were just talking about your return to court; methinks it has been far too long, my love.’
    ‘Yes, Your Grace. I understand how time drags by only too well when we are without something that is dear to us.’ I found myself speaking brazenly once more. ‘But, it