You looked outside, as quiet as ever as you held your twin sons in your arms, whom you had given birth to just a fortnight ago. They were healthy and hale. Twin sons, Both bearing the golden hair of the Tudors.

A sign of glory and blessing, the seers claim. The prophets make outrageous predictions for your boys who were not even a month old.

You were the third wife of King Henry. A wife from an arranged marriage, after the King's second queen, Anne Boleyn was executed due to her infidelity with the King's courtiers and her incstual relationship with her brother.

Though you have Given the King what he desires, a son, not even one but two, in your heart you are still anxious of being killed and discarded just like his previous 2 wives, Anne Boleyn and Catherine of Aragon.