King's Reception Room

The court had become content at Whitehall. Everyone had become accustomed to their rooms and already lovers had found secret passages to one anothers chambers. By candlelight they would rush on the tips of their slippered feet down stairs or up stairs, through corridors and sneak past the drunk night watch men. And in the morning ,as the sun rose, they would awake with the sheets entangled around them and their lips curved into smiles. Their embracing and weary kisses would not end until the servants began to stir and the fires were kindled in the kitchen and the horses saddled for men setting off to business.

This morning however the innocent awoke. Princess Mary rose and her sleepy movements were as fluid as The Thames. Her gowns were sorted through and her hoods too, as her maids tugged and brushed her dark hair and arranged it neath the hood which was finally picked for her. Her head adorned with; cloth of gold, pearls and damask and her body with silk, satin and the most beautiful intricately designed stomacher- Susan slid cushion cut diamond and carved gold rings onto her slender fingers. With the giggling maids pouring scent of lavender and rose upon her she looked every inch the next Queen of England. Her birth right.
Though with growing tensions and anxiety it seemed that her rights may soon be just wishes and dreams that would never materialise.

Upon the eleventh hour when all the court was awake-Mary along with her three maids proceeded to The King's Reception Room as courtiers upon bended knee whispered blessings and good wishes. She smiled warmly to them and bowed her head with a return of thanks.

Finally outside the heavy wooden door Mary's maids announced Her presence and requested they told The King. Soon the servants scuttled behind the door and as they did Mary's maids adjusted her gown, her hair and her jewels-ensuring she looked every inch the 'pearl of the kingdom' which His Majesty had named her.

The servants behind the door entered the room and bowed deeply,"Your Majesty...The Princess Mary has come."

Mary could hear The King mumble from the other side of the door-the deep voice that could convey love or anger so easily and fluidly. Usually it struck fear among courtiers and immediately followed with an elaborate bow although sometimes it spoke sweet, loving words. Only a select few experienced the words of love and Mary was one of those select few-with only compliments and adoration from Her father...The King.

With one sweep the door was opened by the servants. The splendour poured from the room; the finely carved furniture with Their Majesties initials intertwined and the tudor rose stamped on every inch of wood, the rich tapestries sewn with vibrant threads of fantastical colours and golden thread, paintings of predecessor monarchs who were dressed in their finest robes and decorated with the finest jewels they could source and yet...The King overshadowed them all as he sat in his throne.

Resplendent in His throne Mary took a step forward with her eyes fixed firmly on the floor neath her,"Your Majesty,"she whisper and yet longed for nothing more than to leap into Her fathers arms.

Mary beamed, a flush of colour spread over her flesh. No feature was left unaffected-she was truly like a rose. She then bounded forward-her little feet padded on the ground and then she rushed into her fathers arms,"Papa!"she cried.

The groomsman steps forward and bows. “The Countess, Madeline, De Fontanay,” he announces.

I enter the room nervously and quietly, knowing I am not to disturb his majesty, no matter my business. I bend into a humble curtsey, and remain in the position until I am spoken to.
“Your majesty,” I hold the curtsey, "and highness."

"I thank your majesty, ever so kindly, for welcoming me to your beautiful court," I smile.
“Your majesty…I wished to make my presence known to you, as I have a proposition to ask of your majesty.”

I step closer with my hands placed humbly behind my back. “Your majesty…it has become known to me that you like to keep certain people close, and others closer…that you like to be able to keep watch over not only your court, but your people.”
...

“I wish to offer you my services as your friend and confidante.” I look down, “I know what you are thinking…you are thinking, perhaps, that I am but a woman and therefore am less able to provide you with such information one of your other confidantes can, however,” my eyes flash upward, “that is my advantage, your majesty…I am a woman, and can hear and find out things in places your men can’t.” I begin to pace about the room, slightly. “You are perhaps also thinking that I am French and will perhaps betray your majesty’s trust, however, I have always felt England should be my home…and anyway, his majesty, Francis, is a fickle and vain man…not as humble and devout and kind as your majesty…and of course, it is clear, though not as extravagant, which I am sure the people love the most…your country is far greater.” I stop moving, “that being said, I am, in fact French…not many people speak to me, yet it gives me good reason to listen.”

"I could, if it please your majesty," I nod. "And I should like to gain information about your own courtiers and officials, as well. If you should so entrust me, Majesty, I should like to be your eyes and ears here, as well as the French court."

Note:

As you wish, I was following Lady Anne Boleyn and she has just came to court Your Majesty.

Servant

"I thank your majesty," I curtsey, seeing the letter in his hands. "Good day majesty, and thank you for your time." I leave the room, curtseying backward.

......

Henry was standing in his reception room with Charles and Anne. Thomas Boleyn was with them too. They were waiting for Wolsey and Campeggio's arrival. He needed to see them. Especially Wolsey...He put his hands together on his back and looked at the door

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"Charles was waiting Cardinals's arrival with Thomas Boleyn and Anne at his side. Noticing King's agitation, they were looking meaningfully each other"

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Norfolk stood between other nobles, waiting eagerly for Wolsey and Campeggio to enter and to gloat over his defeat. He glanced at the king and noticed with satisfaction his rising agitation. He looked at Boleyn and Suffolk and winked discreetly, then turned his eyes toward the door.

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