It has been thirty one years since that day. The Boleyn Threat was over and Henry returned to me unharmed. My wound healed nice and Henry traces it when he thinks I'm asleep. I look over at him and smile as I close my eyes and think of all that has happened in the past thirty one years.
Mary and the Duke of Bavaria married two months after the attack on February 17, 1539. Henry would deny it but I saw him cry as he gave Mary away. It was a beautiful ceremony in which Elizabeth was the flower girl. Mary and Philip moved to Bavaria shortly after and had two children: Katherine, after her mother, and Eustace, after the beloved Spanish Ambassador.
Jane and my brother William married on March 7, 1539. Jane was all smiles and even though Edward Seymour had scars on his face from the battle you could still detect a smile. They moved to the Spanish court and continued to live between the court and William's country manor in Chester. They had three children: John, Isabelle and Thomas. Jane died in 1545 giving birth to their youngest son Thomas. I guess some aspects of history are meant to happen. William was never the same after her death and he never remarried her rooms at their manor remain untouched her clothes still there.
Catherine divorced Charles in 1547 after the loss of an unborn child. She died later in 1550 of the sweating sickness. Charles remarried a French woman named Brigitte and they had two children, Jane and Esme. Charles died last year, 1568, of fever. Brigitte cares for all three of his children and is in a constant state of mourning.
Elizabeth married Robert Dudley in 1551. They have a happy marriage and one child, Anne in 1558. They live in Hever castle which has been rid of everything belonging to George and Thomas Boleyn. Out of respect for her mother they kept all of her belongings. Henry gave Elizabeth some of her mother's confiscated jewels as a wedding present. It was the only time I had ever seen Elizabeth truly cry.
Henry and I lived in a marriage with more love and respect that many people never know. We have 15 children and have never been happier. After the attack on London we had our first girl, Noelle Tudor in 1540. She was to one of the King Francis's sons and lives happily with her husband. William came in 1541 and is engaged to the daughter of the King of Portugal. Charles Tudor greeted the world in 1544 and is engaged to one of the daughters of the Duke of Cleves. In 1545 Guinevere came and is now engaged to the Prince of Scotland. After Guinevere came Catherine in 1546, Ella in 1548, Nicholas and Christopher in 1551, Aurora in 1552, Rosalie in 1554, Alexander in 1556 and Arthur was born in 1557. Our eldest children Henry, Edward and Richard are the pride and joy of their father. Henry is 24 and is married to the daughter of the armorist and she is currently with child. Edward is married to the daughter of Charles 1 and Richard is married to King Francis's daughter.
"Are you well sweetheart," Henry asked as he came to sit beside me on the hill. I looked down to see our children and grandchildren playing some sort of game.
"You have made me so very happy," I told him.
"As you have made me," Henry replied kissing me lightly.
"EEEWWW," our youngest child Arthur said as he ran up to us. He is only five but resembles his father's brother, Prince Arthur who died so much. Henry pulled him into his arms and hugged him tighter. They laughed and I felt so happy. These past thirty three years with Henry have been the best of my life. The memory of my life before is nothing but a blur of colors and shapes.
"When you fall in love Arthur you'll feel the same as mother and father do," Aurora said coming to stand in front of us.
"I will be a soldier not a husband," Arthur said poking Aurora and running off. Aurora smiled and chased after him.
"Let's walk we have been sitting for too long," Henry said. He stood up and helped me up. He wrapped his arm around my waist and we walked.
"You know you are going to have to face it sooner or later," I tell him as we neared where the children were playing. Henry shook his head.
"I will not lose you," Henry whispered.
"All the physicians agree Henry. I'm dying and no matter what remedy they concoct it will not help," I told him in a low voice but the children were all laughing and playing so none of them heard me.
"They can be wrong," Henry said futility.
"No Henry everything has its own time even here in England," I replied kissing him on the lips. When we pulled away Henry was staring at me.
"Why does it have to be now? You've given me everything I have ever wanted," Henry asked.
"I don't know my love but it is just the way it is," I replied. The night passed quickly and Henry refused to let me go.
King Henry looked down at the corpse of his wife. After fifty years of life and thirty three of marriage she was gone. She looked so peaceful and barely had signs of aging, her crown lay upon her head. He looked around to see the children and grandchildren they shared crying and dressed in black. It was not just them crying, all of London could be heard crying. Henry gripped his wife's hand. He leant down to kiss her lips. But just before he did he stopped.
"You were right love, it is time. I will be right behind you soon. I love you my queen, my Andrea," Henry said kissing her lips lightly and stepping back. His children and their families surrounded him in a group hug and tears.
For days Henry would sit by the marble sarcophagus he had fashioned for them years ago. He never believed she would be the first to die. She had so much life and love within her. Most times he would expect to see her walking through the door. Arthur had not let go of her handkerchief and kept it in his pocket at all times. Henry reached up to his neck and held the cross she had given to him many years ago. Miracles happen. Andrea was his miracle he knew that now. Henry stood up and walked out confident in the knowledge he would see her soon. Henry felt light and saw nothing but clouds. When the clouds cleared he saw Andrea waiting. She smiled and held out her hand. He took it without question and walked off into the clouds.
Queen Andrea had not been dead a week before King Henry joined her the next week. Their son Henry became King Henry VIIII and reigned for more than fifty years and the Tudor Dynasty was filled with love from their families and from the people.