“That was,” he paused, searching for words, “powerful.”
“Powerful? What was?”
“Those words outside. They stopped Anne in her tracks.”
Thomasin flushed. “It was not really my intention; they were spoken in the moment, in hopes of a peaceful time.”
Rafe nodded. “These are difficult times for us all. We all want peace, I am sure, and to enjoy the celebrations. While we are all living under one roof, there will no doubt be uncomfortable moments. Anne is too determined, too fixed on her destiny, too driven sometimes to think of those in her way.”
“But talk of the princess stopped her?”
“Well, more the king’s reaction, if anything upset his daughter.” Rafe nodded to where Princess Mary danced, arm in arm with her father, who circled her about in time to the music. “She looks happy.”
“I hope she will remain so.”
“He does dote on her. Anne finds it hard.”
“Anne finds it hard? That the king has a daughter whom he loves? Does her own father not treat her as well?” Thomasin almost snapped back at him.
“Still, the princess is another rival for his attention, and not one he can simply put aside. He cannot divorce his daughter, as he wishes to divorce his wife. Anne knows she must tread carefully.”
Thomasin watched as the princess followed her father in formation, noticing the ruby brooch she wore at her breast. Her eyes held Henry in adoration.
“She is still so very young.”
“All children must grow up.”
“But they do not need to have their hearts broken in the process.”
“Do not be angry with me.” Rafe turned to her. “I am not the king. It is not my intention to break anyone’s heart. Not again, anyway. Will you dance?”
“I think not. That way, I can ensure my heart remains intact.” And Thomasin picked up her wine glass and headed back towards her family.
Before long, the guests began to disperse back to their lodgings in order to sup quietly and rest. Watching them depart with promises to see each other soon, Thomasin headed for the princess, glad to see her still smiling.
“Come, my lady, a quiet supper in your chamber and an early night, I think.”
“Indeed,” interjected Lady Salisbury, stiffly. “That is what I told her only a moment ago.”
“Oh Thomasin, I had such a wonderful time,” said the girl, her eyes sparkling. “I hope all our days will be like this, and all our Christmases.”
“Come,” said Thomasin, indicating the way, before anything might spoil her smile. “Let us depart, but hurry, for it is cold outside the hall.”
“Here.” Lady Salisbury produced a fur-lined cloak and draped it about Mary’s shoulders.
As they passed the window, the princess turned and pointed. “Look! Look, everyone, more snow is falling!”
Thomasin looked, and Mary was right. Beyond the blackness that pressed against the pane, thick soft flakes were floating down and settling upon the white world outside.
“How pure it is! How untouched. There is something so holy about snow before it is spoiled by human feet.”
And hearts, thought Thomasin,before they are trampled over.
“Anne, Anne, is that you?”
Thomasin turned to see Lady Boleyn standing in the doorway, staring out into the snow.
“Take the princess up. I will follow,” Thomasin said to Lady Salisbury, before hurrying across the space.
