Sitting in a secluded study in the palace, Lady Elizabeth Boleyn listened silently to the latest news from France, her expression impassive but her thoughts constantly racing. Before her, an unfolded letter bore the seal of her brother, Thomas Howard. The words were cautious, but the implications clear: Anne's favor was wavering, and the court bristled with danger.

Elizabeth, despite her apparent self-effacement, had never been a stranger to the power game. While her husband, Thomas Boleyn, stirred on the Council benches, while her brother worked in the corridors of power, she observed. She listened. And sometimes, she advised—in the secrecy of a bedroom, a deserted corridor, or a word whispered in the Queen's ear.

She knew that her daughter, now Queen of England, was walking a tightrope. The capricious King demanded a male heir. The Seymours were gaining ground. And the looks at court were becoming more and more calculated. So Elizabeth played her own discreet but essential game: she conferred with ambassadors, arranged alliances, and ensured that House Boleyn was not caught off guard.