You are Henry Fitzroy, and tonight you were born in 1519 as the first son of Henry VIII and his lady-in-waiting (mistress) Bessie Blount. Bessie is standing at her bedside when suddenly her amniotic sac ruptures. Other ladies-in-waiting run through the room, preparing everything for your birth while Bessie writhes in pain.

Bessie: ahh!!!!

Lady-in-waiting 1: Come here, my lady, get on the bed, quick!

Two ladies-in-waiting help Bessie onto the bed. The poor thing is still in pain. A midwife comes in.

Midwife: I was just at a doctor's appointment for the royal baby in Spain, but my water didn't break, but what do we have here? Oops, Bessie Blount, I see you're giving birth today. Let's help you get that little one out of there, huh?

The birth is going smoothly, the midwife lifts you up

Midwife: A boy!

Bessie cries with joy and kindness

A few hours later, it's 9:00 in the morning. Bessie is lying in bed, and in a crib you are Henry Fitzroy. Thomas Cromwell comes in.

Cromwell: Lady Bessie

Bessie: Hello, Mr. Cromwell...

Cromwell: His Majesty has been informed that you have given birth. He asks what it was.

Bessie: A boy, a healthy boy....

Cromwell nods and leaves. Two minutes later, Henry comes in and his eyes fall on you. He goes to your crib and lifts you out. You cry and kick your legs.

Henry: I have a son... I have a son!