The Seymour’s Begin Their Rise, UK Court

December 7, 2014 in News, Tudor Uk Court by ADMIN: Royal Squire

Having received the letters patent for Edward Seymour’s new title from the King personally, Nicolas Carew approached the new apartments recently given to the Seymour’s by Cromwell. Having such an honour done for them showed how high their little Jane was in the King’s favour and with this new title, their favor seemed to be growing faster. As for himself, as long as he continued his genuine friendship with the Seymour’s, he would prosper also, especially if she became Queen.


Nicholas Carew

Walking with the measured authority of a true noble he strides through the corridors, a scroll of introduction clasped in his fist.
The elegant cut of his robes discretely held fine gold thread at every seam, a powerful muscularity gave a spring to each movement. His slim appearance concealing a powerful muscularity, when this was coupled with his skill and speed, he had become undefeated in the tiltyard. But these refinements began in his youth, now he was to tutor Lady Seymour on how to keep the King’s eyes focused upon her within the rules of the etiquette she must follow whilst she attended court.

He relished this role, a small smile played upon his lips, the etiquette and manners of court were a delicate and intricate skill, he had been judged as proficient in these areas to school Lady Seymour. Yet, he also knew that as a gentleman his duty lay in the assistance to others, especially a lady.

Approaching the door of Lady Seymour’s chambers, he straightened his back and rapped gently upon the wooden door…

Jane Seymour

I stand amongst the finery of our new apartments, somewhat overwhelmed by the opulence. I run my hands Jane and Edward Seymourover the rich fabrics that dress the
room dreading the moment the queen casts her eyes upon me and wistfully thinking of the true Queen of England.

I am starting to feel out of my depth, and my brothers can sense it. I am not immune to the growing unease of court, the factions are beginning to shift, The king’s mood swings wildly one way or the other at any given moment. Who knows how long this infatuation with me will last. I could be cast aside as Madge any day. As our family is relatively new at this level of the game, my brothers have enlisted the assistance of friends and cousins who would like to cast their lot in with ours.

As I ponder on what they will advise me, someone seeks our company, I nod for one of my ladies to admit the visitor and in bows Nicolas Carew. My education it seems is to begin.

Edward Seymour Edward Seymour

I sit in front of the fire, wondering at the monumental good favor our family has received. I  contemplate the queen. She will not move aside quietly for my sister. Thomas and I stand  bewildered at Henry’s affection for Jane.  My brother, in his grandiose way, dreams of  advantage that can be gained from this. Although I am not unwilling to benefit from Henry’s  sudden respect for our family, I remain cautious, lest it all be taken away on the king’s next capricious whim. As the door opens, I rise to greet Sir Nicholas. What a picture he makes, the very image of  chivalry. “Sir Nicholas, welcome! Please, come warm yourself!” I glance at Jane, “ Sister, will you pour our guest  some wine?”

Nicholas Carew

Nicholas offers a warm smile to Jane as he approaches Edward, realising he must set a precedent with all the Seymours by performing protocol to the letter. Bowing his head slightly, he presents the scroll to Edward. His primary role was to instruct Jane, but where she led the rest of he family must follow. Edward was the head of the family, the introduction must be presented to him.
As Edward took the scroll Nicholas offered a small bow once more, then looking up he said,download (3)

“Your servant, Sir.” Turning to Jane he took the goblet offering her a dazzling smile,

“Soon M’Lady you will only present our king with his wine, remember, when you are firmly in his favour many tasks are beneath you”
Moving to the fire,he faces the whole family. Raising the goblet to his nose, closes his eyes and savours the depth and complexity of the aromas,
“French.” He comments, raising his eye brows, closing his eyes again his nostrils flare as he breaths deeply, “The Bordeaux region I believe…..perhaps from a sun soaked valley of the Gironde.” Gently tipping the goblet to his lips he noticeably savours a sip of the ruby nectar.
Swallowing he looks at his fascinated audience,

“No, it is from Gascony further south and it is fit for a king” then smiling at Jane,“Or a queen”, the Seymour’s are bemused by Carews’ seemingly outstanding knowledge. Seeing the admiration in their faces, he sets the goblet on the table,
“I am no connoisseur” he smiles,

“This wine is His Majesty’s favourite, it is imported from Gascony and is known as ‘Reck’, I know that our King is constructing a wine cellar beneath Whitehall to stock this wine and other fine wines. It is the application of this knowledge that allows me to appear as an expert in its taste, aroma and origin. It also shows that our King favours your presence as he has commanded you receive his favourite wine.”

Turning to Jane, he smiles, his eyes glowing with warmth,

“You see M’Lady, what a little knowledge applied in the correct manner and circumstance can do to enhance your presence and favour in court and the eyes of our Liege?” Collecting the goblet again, he continues.

“Not only can I impart all the knowledge you will need and the skill to present it, but also the manner and actions you require, causing our Majesty’s eyes to be drawn to you and no other. Though your looks will doubtlessly draw his eye without much prompting.”

He smiles once again, his eyes full of laughter,

“I will steer you and school you in court etiquette and protocol, though I believe you are well versed in this area, M’Lady. I also feel that I must protect you from the intrigues and skullduggery that snake their way through our ‘noble assembly’. Each courtier wishing to enhance their reputation and reputation with the king, while destroying their rival courtiers in any way possible!”

Turning to Edward, the smile had gone, ” I recommend that the tutoring should begin in the morning, perhaps with a brief spell of hunting.”
A grin flashes across his face, “We may bump into our King, he is often found hunting in the morning either in the saddle or perhaps with his hawks” …

Jane Seymour

jane seymour1“I see you have the knowledge to steer me through this maze and I thank you for taking an interest in me and mine Sir. Of course, I am familiar with court as a Lady in Waiting to the queen, but I have never waded into the intrigues which have surrounded me.” I refill my brothers cup and Carew’s.

“I still wish to retain my good name. I do NOT want the same stain as the Boleyn girls, nor Madge Shelton or any of the king’s paramours.” Carew looks surprised at my instance. “And I do not wish to anger any queen.” Either one. I can see Edward to begin to interject.

“Pray let me finish. I believe the king seeks my company because I am not embroiled in any intrigue nor do I care to be.” I smile wryly. “It is my simple country girl charms and I do not wish to change for any king.”

I sip my own cup and sit and look expectantly at the men who wish to guide me.

Edward Seymour

Jane has never been a forward maid. She has always been obedient to our Lord Father, and has unfailingly done as she was told. I glance at Sir Nicholas, hoping he has not taken offence at her speech. “Of course, Jane. Your virtue is paramount! But you must know that the queen can not help but be angered by our king’s interest in you! She is a jealous woman, given to unseemly fits of temper.”

I cross the room Edward Seymourquickly, and take my sister’s hands in my own. “Have I ever misled you Jane? Have I ever failed in my duty to you as a brother?” I lower my voice, and speak only to her, “Sister, if we are to do this thing, there will be risk. But as long as you have King  Henry’s favor, and the help of Cromwell, and Sir Nicholas here, I assure you, we will all do our very best to protect you.”

Turning back to my sister’s most dignified tutor I ask, ” Is there gossip, sir? About Jane?  She holds her virtue and good name dear.”


Nicholas Carew

I glance down and notice a few hairs that have collected around my sleeve. Frowning a little, I brush the offending items away, inwardly chastising mysellf for praising my dogs before I called upon the Seymour’s. Looking up, the charming smile has reappeared on my face.

“M’lady, as you will know, every lady of the court has gossip, intrigue and scandal surrounding them. This originates in the kitchens and the corridors, between the scullery maids and cooks! They need such fantasy to distract from their own lives.”

I sigh.

“The only scandal that should concern you, is scandal that has a firm basis or one that may affect the the King’s affections towards you!”
My charming smile becomes a little crooked, almost playful, “But I know that it will take a lot for our Liege to change his opinion of you!”
I reach down for my goblet, looking into the ruby liquid, I swirl it around a little watching the complex drink make its smooth circular movements. The fire is warm upon my back and for a brief moment I stretch my shoulders, easing the muscles with the heat that radiates through my back and up to my shoulders.

Looking back to Jane, my face is a little serious, but my eyes still twinkle.

“I have no intelligences to suggest any form of gossips exists, beyond the whisperings of your presence and the reason for the Seymour’s rise is in royal favour. None of this will damage any of your family’s character, in fact it will advertise your elevated position, this can only aid your reception at court. There will be those who will swoon over you, yet plot behind your back…..Smiling assassins, cads and charmers! However, your one enemy at court could be The Duke of Norfolk and his family. You know he is Anne’s Uncle, he sees the Seymour’s rise as an erosion of his power base and influence in the court. The Duke is powerful and intelligent, he has the personality of a Cobra, the cunning of a fox and strength of Lucifer. He will appear as a chilvarous knight from the Arthurian legends! While he charms you with his silver tongue, his spies and informants will be searching for any scrap of information that will benefit his Grace and diminish your standing!”
I pause again to sip my wine.

“It poison gobletis my position, nay, my duty come to negate any of these scandalous intrigues before  they take hold, even monitoring the the Duke’s agents if I believe it’s prudent. It is also  my duty, not only as your new confidant, but as a gentleman who sees chivalry as the  golden thread of his life,to protect you from the those who would hurt you  bodily,spiritually or damage your pride and reputation.”

A wide grin spreads across my face as I tilt my head.

“However, given your character not to mention your beauty, a fair pure beauty at that, you  need not worry yourself with any scandal, for it will all be without basis or evidence.” I  turn to Seymour, “However, if I might make a small suggestion.”

I pause and then sigh.

“Your brother….Thomas, he is known for frivolity and his ease with ladies of any standing, status or breeding. Might I suggest that whilst he is in the vicinity of court, that he is kept on a tight rein, so his actions do not give anyone, especially Norfolk, a hint of scandal.”

Returning my smile to Jane, I continue with a slightly admonishing tone.

“The Queen at this present time could be described as flamboyant and gregarious to say the least!” I continue with a more serious note in voice.
“The King is tired of decadence in his queen, not to mention an issue with an heir for his thrown, but he realises that the country and his subjects loved Katherine and their Church! His rampant ardour for Anne, caused the segregation of both Church and Katherine from the lives of his people, his subjects. Whilst Henry is powerful and strong, he realises his greatest strength and power lies in the loyalty of his subjects!
Henry has made a lot of enemies, though to speak of it is treason. So in addition for his desire for an heir, I believe he wishes to restore loyalty and religious faith in his subjects for the new church and their king.” I pause allowing all this information to digest, “One possible way to achieve this, along with an heir, is to have a queen they will love.”

The serious note leaves my voice as my eyes sparkle again.

“I am speaking in practical terms milady, he seeks to show the country that the Church of England and political status of the monarchy are pure and virtuous, this could be enhanced by a new queen who typifies the characteristics he seeks to display to the court and the country. ” I pause sipping the wine once more.

“Your beauty, character and elegance may match the King’s machinations, but that is not the only reason for his desire. The radiance and glow of your beauty has captured Henry’s gaze in its own right, it is it is just an added bonus that the political and religious situation favours a beauty such as yours.”

Jane Seymour

I know that Sir Nicholas speaks courtly words and exaggerates my beauty. None can compare to the beauty of Queen Katherine in her youth, yet a blush spreads across my cheeks. I try to sort through the thoughts barrelling through my mind. Kings, queens, heirs, court intrigues, Dukes, faiths – it is all over my head. Nor am I especially interested. Perhaps that is what appeals to Henry. But if we are to continue down this track, I must have someone who I can trust- Carew is correct in his assessment of my beloved brother Thomas. Edward is the astute brother- but we are new to these games, unlike Carew who is now claiming to be against Anne Boleyn.

“It is an honour Sir Nicholas, to hear you have such confidence in me. I truly love our king and all I wish is for a peaceful country with an heir for our king.” Just like his queen’s before him. Except Anne, who does not believe in anything but herself. I glance at Edward who is watching me carefully, still holding on to my hand reassuringly. “You must truly believe the king’s affections for me must be true to offer your guidance to our family.”

Edward gives me a slight nod. ” My brothers and I will be guided by your advice Sir Nicholas.” I take a deep breath. “Where do we go from here?”


A Den of Serpents, UK Court

July 25, 2014 in Historical Fiction, Tudor Uk Court by ADMIN: Royal Squire



As Jane dines with the King at Westhorpe, the Seymours dine together at Wulfhall, planning a way to bring down the Boleyns and for them to rise higher since their Jane has caught the eye of the King. Edward, Thomas and Elizabeth are eating roast peacock and drinking a fruity claret as they plan their next step. They are a jovial group as they think of the spoils that could come their way if the Boleyns fall.

Thomas Seymour


Thomas leans back in his chair, he feels sleepy and contented as the fire behind him embraces his body, enveloping him in a blanket of warmth. His half closed eyes rest upon the deep red liquid encased in his stankard, the tankard being his own personal receptacle that he insists upon using at every meal as it can hold more liquor!
His fingers trail across the front of his linen shirt and fall down to his stomach. He notices his flat stomach, is not as flat as it used to be. All this pleasurable living is taking it’s toll on his body, he makes a mental note to hunt further and harder tomorrow and re start his wrestling practice. Even if he is to rise in the ranks of the nobility, even if he is to call the King ‘Brother in Law’, he must not let this pleasurable living incapacitate him for the greatest pleasure of all!
With that thought, his eyes close all together as he remembers his tussle in the hay with ”Mad” Richard Jacob’s wife that very afternoon. Her dark hair framing her beauty as he held her next to him, their lips meeting as their bodies melted…..


With a start Thomas remembers himself, nearly dropping his tankard!
He looks at his siblings across the table, they exchange glances and his cheeks colour a little, he covers his embarrassment by stabbing the peacocks roasted flesh and pulling a tender part of breast away from the bird.
Looking up he glances at Edward and then Elizabeth, returning his gaze to the dark meat, he says
”I wonder how Jane is getting along at Westhrope, with our King and his loyal dog…..Charles Brandon!
However, I would like to be introduced to Dowager Queen Mary, her beauty and elegance are wasted on a slug head like Duke Charles. Still, I suppose Brandon is useful, he will aid our efforts to rip the Boleyn wench and her interbred family away from Henry!”
Thomas drops the dark breast onto his plate and sips from the tankard, as the fruity liquid warms the back of his throat, his mind ponders the delicate balance of power that exists by being ’Favoured’ or ’Not Favoured’ by Henry.
Thomas places his tankard on the table and raises his eyebrows, inviting his brother and sister to comment……….


Elizabeth Seymour 

Elizabeth grabbed a handful of fruit for her plate as she spoke. ”I’m sure she enjoys it there.” She then sips the sweet wine. ”Maybe one day after His Majesty will tire of her and Jane will give him a son. It won’t happen now but, we have to be patient.” She says as she looks at Thomas.

Edward Seymour


”All in due time, Elizabeth. First, we must inflame the King’s desires for her and then pull away as the current Queen did except Jane will be more subtle about it.” Edward Seymour sipped his claret with a well pleased expression. ”Indeed, Brother despite his background or lack of it, Charles Brandon is a very helpful tool that I would not mind using. However, your inclinations toward the Dowager Queen will do us more harm than good and so I trust you to divert your amusement elsewhere.”


Thomas Seymourimage

Smirking across the table,Thomas sips more wine,
”Henry’s ’enflaming’ is often present in his bed chambers, we just need to place Jane into that position. The slut Boleyn, merely tempted him with forbidden fruits and her abandon on his bed”
Thomas lifts both his legs and places them on the table, Elizabeth’s frozen stare would have chilled the fires of hell, but Thomas simply winked at his sister, reached forward and grabbed a rosy apple from the table. Rubbing the apple against his doublet, he examined it and sunk his teeth into the juicy fruit. Looking bemused by Elizabeth’s indignant stare, he shrugged and took his feet from the table.
”Our sister is worth ten of those Boleyns! We need to give her the same support that the whore, Anne, has in the court circles. We should whisper in the right ears, flatter the inner circle, compliment the right nobles and blackmail those we cannot persuade to support our sister. Then, all the the court will see our sister as Queen Jane. But, we must then find a delicious accusation, a rope rumour or intimate scandal that we can use to undermine that slattern’s position in the Royal Bed!”
Thomas leans back,the flames of the fire caress his neck and shoulders’ the warmth stripping the tension from his muscles.
”That bitch must have hidden secrets or some vice we can expose!”, he stretches in his chair, then taking another juicy bite of the apple, a mischievous glint appears in his eyes,
”while you two are digging up the scandal on the delightful Anne, I know that the Dowager Queen Mary also despises the Boleyn slut, I should make my introductions to Mary, while the dullard Brandon is absent”, He grins,
”I can speak to Mary and pump her for all the information she has”
Elizabeth’s mouth drops as fury clouds her face………..


Elizabeth Seymour

Elizabeth looks at Edward then at Thomas in astonishment. She tries to control her anger for his sexual appetite could not only destroy all their plans but also their family.

” THOMAS! You must heed Edward’s words. You will create a scandal if you go sniffing around the King’s sister like a bitch in heat. You could also be the ruin to our family just as it seems our fortunes may change. I was too hasty, Edward is right again. Let Jane’s natural sweet demur attract the King while she is with him at Westhorpe. We may owe our future to the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk.” She bites into the ruby apple with vigor for she did not break her fast this morrow. Elizabeth imagines Jane with the King, charming him with her angelic voice and soothing ways. How lucky they were when the Duchess fell from her horse here and Jane attended her so well that she became friends. It had to be an omen from God. She spears some cheese for the peacock looks greasy and makes a mental note to address this with the cook.

” Sir Thomas Seymour,” I say his name sternly as he pets his favorite dog, Norfolk. If you ruin Jane’s chances I will slit your throat myself! There has been enough scandal associated with us thanks to father. I am sorry Edward for bringing that up but Thomas MUST see that his lusty appetite could destroy us all. Tell him Edward! ” Elizabeth sighs in disgust.


Edward Seymour

”Do not worry, little sister. Thomas knows better than to mess with our coming fortunes despite his constant jokes. Besides, the King would destroy him thoroughly and leave the rest to Brandon…which wouldn’t be much.” In a rare show of amusement, the elder Seymour smirks slowly at his siblings, reaching for a pitcher of wine and soon pouring the fruity contents into his crystal goblet. ”I will write to our sister afterwards to ask of her position. Once we bring her to court, we all must abstain from any scandal. Thanks to the Boleyn’s Howard connections, they will have a number of spies in their hands.” Edward eyes his brother especially. ”That mostly means you, brother. Not even a slight smudge must fall upon your name. Understood?.”


Thomas Seymour

Sitting up in the chair, Thomas raises his arms above his head in a luxurious stretch, the chastisement of his siblings flies past him and. evaporates in the fire behind.
Sniffing slightly, he examines a small piece of peacock on his plate. Holding it to the light he looks at the morsel with feigned puzzlement and interest, to show his brother and sister how much their words have affected him. Shrugging his shoulders he looks down at Norfolk. The Spaniels piercing amber eyes dart between Thomas’ face and the piece of meat between his fingers. For once, a genuine smile of affection splits Thomas’ tanned and whispered face, Norfolk’s loyalty is true, unquestioning and without condition.
’If only life, especially court life, could be so simple’, he mused
The Spaniel snapped his gaze from the meat, back to his masters face, simultaneously placing a paw on his masters thigh he licks his lips and snaps his head back to the meat.
Chuckling, Thomas throws the meat to the end of the hall, Norfolk was at a sprint before the meat had left his hand, becoming a small dark brown blur of muscle and speed.
Thomas’ grin grew even more when he saw the predictable fury cloud Elizabeth’s face at his actions.
”I can’t help it, my siblings, if risk and danger are aphrodisiacs in my amorous affairs. Their thrill is as sweet as this beautiful wine we have before us”
Taking a delicious mouthful of the wine from his tankard, he glances to his brother and sister,
”Relax both of you”, he admonished as he lowered the wine, ” for all my passions run high, especially with ladies of royal descent, I will not allow my nether regions to hinder our advancement in the Royal Court”, his smile creased his face again,
”But, I would still like to crush that whelp Brandon in the tiltyard or in a wrestling bout! Just because he is so bloody stupid !!!”
Placing his feet back onto the table once more, he ignores Elizabeth’s look of fury as Norfolk scampers back and rests his chin on Thomas’ leg………..



Written By : Thomas Seymour UK Z, Edward Seymour UK Z, and Elizabeth Seymour UK Z

God’s Kingdom Awaits (King Henry VIII, June 28,1491 to January 28,1547)

January 28, 2014 in Beth von Staats (REVELATION), Tudor Y Writer's Group by Beth von Staats

King Henry VIII (June 29, 1491 to January 28, 1547)

King Henry VIII (June 29, 1491 to January 28, 1547)


It is time for the Lord to act; they have frustrated Your law.  ~~~ Psalm 119:126


26 January 1547

“Denny broke the news to His Majesty today, Your Grace. The King’s suffering nears its end. We feared to wait for you, for even traveling from Lambeth may lead to His Majesty passing from this world unknowing, unable to make peace with his God.”

I look to Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford, his words said with gentle softness, and nod. Sir William Paget rests his hand on my shoulder as I speak. “Sir Anthony is a blessing to His Majesty, his task noble. O Lord do strengthen him in these dark days, I pray.”

Sir Anthony Denny

Sir Anthony Denny

Sir Anthony Denny, how can ever we thank his noble service? The loving care he provides His Majesty is saintly, though an evangelical he is in truth. Master of the Stool to a dying monarch, though an honored title, is thankless indeed, no earthly reward sufficient. This man’s services to the realm are as taxing as any warrior, as any a ghastly vocation in all Christendom. Not many would abide it if the truth was known. Who could blame? His Majesty’s wounds ooze pitifully I am told, the stench bending to spew many a man. Though riches and property are Denny’s earthly rewards, God will reward him further still. Yes, we are justified by the Lord by our faith alone, but there must be God’s cherished love for the likes of this. After a quiet moment of reflection for His Majesty’s  trusted servant, I startle slightly, Sir William Paget, my closest layman ally since dearest Cromwell, my Earl of Essex died, breaking the blaring silence.

“Your Grace, my Lord of Hertford and I know you pain more than any man. We see it plain. You look exhausted from prayer, obviously not taking time for nourishment or to direct your privy servant to shave your growing stubble. Even thus, we must speak plain and plan for dear Prince Edward’s ascendancy to kingship.”

His Majesty no longer able to chide me, I shall never shave again — a clean face the vestments of clergy governed by the Antichrist. Do I admit my stubble is of my choice? No, let the tongues wag later. I look up and swallow hard. “Though the task heartbreaking, yes we must. Do carry on, good man.”

My Lord of Hereford readies to speak, and I rise my hand to halt him. I desire first to hear from dearest Paget, a man with no blood between my beloved Godson and the crown. He begins to falter, stumbling on his words. “Master Secretary, speak what you must. You are among the trusted few you can.”

“Your Grace, the Council His Majesty has commanded… It is doomed to failure I fear. We must find a way around it.”

The poor man seems relieved to finally speak his peace. I’ll allay him further. “Yes, you state the obvious, dear man. Per His Majesty’s expressed commands, no man must ever resign the council, no man ever relieved of duty, no matter the travesty. This shall lead to chaos I fear, one man against another, turmoil and manipulations rather than good judgement ruling this very realm.”

I look to both men who are nodding in agreement. I venture on. “Here is our chance gentlemen, our chance we long awaited to rid this realm of idols, relics, the very Eucharist itself. This must not be delayed by the indecisiveness that ruling by council would bring. Souls are in the balance.”

Both men are stunned cold, Paget’s mouth hung open wide. My trusted secretary Ralph Morice instead smiles knowingly.

“Hear! Hear! You changed your stance on the Eucharist, Your Grace? Since when did you reach this revelation?” asks my Lord of Hertford.

I am determined these men finally know my mind, but the particulars need not be so clear. Bishop Ridley, my beloved personal chaplain and I decided finally upon it. That be that. “Dearest Cromwell, may he rest with the peace of what is to come, did teach me, and these be his very words. ‘There be no need for reformist martyrs, Your Grace. Wait for the opportunity, then seize it. Until then, keep your thoughts and ambitions close.’ He spoke truth, because here I still stand despite the great efforts of myne enemies, now much to accomplish for God’s glory, for the glory of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”

Sir William Paget

Sir William Paget

Both men smile broadly, my words most welcome indeed. My Lord of Hertford tries to speak once more. I again raise my hand to stifle him, then placing my finger before my lips to make my point. “Master Secretary what are your recommendations then?”

“Despite His Majesty’s expressed commands, this realm must have a Lord Protector. I know his mind. The king fears the power of one man may undermine the ascendancy of a child, lest we forget the poor sons of King Edward, fourth of that name.”

Both Hertford and I nod in agreement, as he speaks truth. I motion Paget continue.

“His Majesty is wise to think such, but I see no other way. The boy is but nine years old. Governance cannot be frozen nine long years by the inevitable debates and posturing of several men who lack like mind while we wait for Prince Edward to mature from child to king. I urge the realm be ruled by a Lord Protector, with a supporting Privy Council, the very men His Majesty trusts as he made known.”

Before Herford can speak, I cut him off. The idea put forth must not be viewed as his, as to do so may later unravel his very credibility. Does Hertford not know why I stifled him thus far? “His Majesty is wise, but I do agree with you, dear man.”

I look to Hertford once more and inquire with all earnestness. “My Lord of Hertford, of all the men in this realm, you are most suited to be Lord Protector. You share the very blood of our beloved Prince soon king. You adhere to the true religion, and you are wise of governance.”

He smiles broadly, but I am not done. “Before I thrust my wholehearted support, do tell me what your goals as Lord Protector would be?”

He squirms just a little, good. I am Archbishop of Canterbury, duty bound to His Majesty still. If I sway from the king’s intentions once God takes him home, I must be sure all be in the best interests of Prince Edward, who I then owe my full allegiance and submission, as is God’s Holy Word in the Book of Solomon.

“Your Grace, myne foremost goal and obligation is to raise Prince Edward to be our Empire’s first great Protestant King, of course. You may select his religious scholars, while I will attend to his worldly education. He is a bright child, with much potential to be the grandest king in all Europe, in all the world. I desire most to bring England to the true religion, while also growing our wealth and knowledge among the people. We must also prepare for any wars upon our shores. Alas, I believe we owe to the poorest in the realm, the wretched souls. They suffer much.”

Ah, the man speaks true, though I knew he would. “And what would you need from me and the clergy, my Lord?”

“The liturgy for the Church of England, stated common in all religious houses throughout this glorious realm, ever church, every abbey, all clergy sermonizing same. O Lord make it so.”, says Lord Hereford with all conviction.

Paget and I smile broadly. Dearest Cromwell held great hope for this young man, not without just cause I do see. I ask my dearest secretary, Ralph Morice, whose gracious silence holds my utmost trust, to pour us all some wine. With His Majesty on his death bed, this be no time for toasts. I merely sip upon the claret, and speak most humbly. “You have my support, dear man. My Lord, all you ask I will do most diligently. God is my witness.”

Hertford leans over, placing his hand gently upon my arm. “And what then do you need from me, Your Grace? If the council agrees, and I become Lord Protector of this realm as you suggest, what may I do to ease your way as head of the clergy?” he asks in devout sincerity.

I pause. This must not go unsaid. My promise is my solemn oath, our vows God’s truth. I try and speak casually, as if what I state next is as mundane as discussing abbey finance. I breathe in deep, blow the breath out and begin. “I do confess I already wrote to my wife Margarete in Nuremburg and stated my desire she prepare to come home to me, along with my daughter. Both I pine pitifully for since the Six Articles became His Majesty’s truth.”

I stunned Hertford and Paget again, catching both completely off their guard. Hertford’s eyes grow wide, while Paget nervously smiles. What skips through their minds is known but to them and God. I sigh, and dear Ralph Morice motions I be out with it. “All I ask for me and for the clergy of this realm is that my family finally be allowed to live our lives openly, as example to the world of God’s scriptural truth, and as the greatest desire of myne  heart.”

Ralph Morice smiles approvingly. My confidences he holds close, bless his soul. My Lord of Hertford shakes his head disbelievingly and clears his throat as we all await a response to my simple request of basic dignity.

“Of course, Your Grace. Celibacy is of pagan thought, not God’s. It has no place in England’s clergy. We shall build a truly evangelical realm, together.”

The weight lifts off my shoulders, carried these many years. “Thank you, my Lord,” I say with the sincerity of a small child who trusts all and knows no evil.

Hertford rubs his fingers through his beard and adds, “I had no idea Your Grace, none. You kept your secret close indeed. My spies had no word of it.”

Both Ralph Morice and I then smile broadly, releasing the tension thick in the midst of us. I motion to Morice. “Besides my trusted secretary, only dearest Cromwell knew, and he took the secret of my wife and daughter with him to the scaffold.”

I offer with a nervous laugh in all good humor and chide, “The Lord Privy Seal’s spies be much better than yours, my Lord.”

Sir Edward Seymour, then Earl of Hertford

Sir Edward Seymour, then Earl of Hertford

The King’s Secretary, always astute and thorough, chimes in to break the moment of my humble confessions. Mayhaps he desires the subject closed, awkward that it be. Paget, yes he is wise. Let’s do move on, O Lord I pray.

“Your Grace…. My Lord, we must not forget the dog in the Tower. What do we do with Norfolk if His Majesty is called home to the Lord before the execution? His Majesty is fading, and the deed is not set for two days hence,” states Paget.

I allow my Lord of Hertford to speak his peace. If he is going to be Lord Protector, let him start now. Norfolk, both he and Gardiner, along with Bonner and their lot did upend my dearest Cromwell, and nearly me but for the grace of His Majesty’s heart, his warnings and his signet ring gifted to save me. I wish the toad dead. God forgive me.

“I pray His Majesty lives so his commands unfold, but if God calls him home, I do think we move cautiously. Blood on the hands of new governance will not sit well with the people of this realm. Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, will languish in The Tower until he shrivels and rots on to death. To kill him outright may spurn insurgency. We need that not.”

My disappointment is obvious, but I say nothing.

“I am sorry, Your Grace. Revenge must not be our priority. The time is not right. With any luck, Norfolk will give us just cause later, once we secure the trust of Parliament and the people.”

I nod approvingly. “Yes, no decision best be made in anger. My resentment and desire for revenge I will atone. I shall seek God’s loving forgiveness this night in my prayers.”

I look to these three fine men, one the King’s trusted secretary, another mine, and God willing of council agreement, yet another my beloved Prince Edward’s, soon king, steadfast protector and say simply, “God’s will be done.”


Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury

Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury


In the midst of life, we are in death… Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts; shut not thy merciful ears to our prayer; but spare us, Lord most holy… Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ; who shall change our vile body, that it may be like unto his glorious body.  ~~~ Thomas Cranmer, The Book of Common Prayer


28 January 1547

“Your Grace, Praise the Lord you are here. His Majesty is fading quickly. Though he speaks not, he lives still.”

I place my hand gently on the arm of Sir Anthony Denny. The man looks racked, as if languishing in Tower many a year, tortured without end. “Go take rest, good man. God knows you need it.”

He drops his eyes to the floor. “His Majesty asked for you, Your Grace, near his last words. He desires your presence when he slips on to God.”

My beloved Sir Anthony, without his intercession along with mine trusted secretary, I would surely had been devoured by the wolves long by now. I tap his shoulder. “Look at me, good man.”

As he raises up his gaze, I say simply, “The King and I weathered many a trial and tribulation together. I need no words to know his heart.”

Denny attempts a faint smile, and I gaze through to his soul. “This be God’s will, aye God’s will, dear man. From all evil, from all sin, from all tribulation, the good Lord will surely deliver him. Have faith, and His Majesty will too.”

I sigh as I pat his arm gently. “Now let me go do what must be done.” 

He nods and motions toward the door. I find my courage with God’s loving grace and quietly enter. The rank stench of His Majesty’s wounds hits me like the blunt end of a lance in a joust. I seek quickly a piss pot, spewing forth all within. My innards not satisfied, dry heaves overcome my every being.

“Your Grace… Your Grace…,” I hear through my misery.

Finally, I look up and one of His Majesty’s tormenting doctors begins helping me to my feet, whilst another washes my face and stubble with a wet cloth.

“Rub this pungent poultice under your nose, Your Grace. It will help what ails you by masking the odors.”

I gladly comply and trade one putrid scent for another, but it be bearable, thank the Lord. A tad weak at the knees still, I look around. Six men gaze upon me as if I am Jesus Himself. I venture, “Is there any more you can do to ease the king’s suffering?”

They sway their heads to and fro, looking down as if ashamed of their incompetence. I wave them off dismissively. “Then go, please. No more is needed for now. God be with you.”

One of the doctors offers, “I wish to stay and attend to you, Your Grace. This room sickens the strongest of men.”

Although this portrait depicts Henry VIII's deathbed, in actuality he died instead holding the hand of Archbishop Cranmer.

Although this portrait depicts Henry VIII’s deathbed, in actuality he died instead holding the hand of Archbishop Thomas Cranmer.

I say softly, thankful for his kindness, “His Majesty and I must be alone, but you may wait just outside, good man. I will gratefully call upon you if need be.”

I smile as he nods and the doctors retreat, and then turn to His Majesty. My heart fills with both love and mourning at the sight of the great man, God’s king on earth. Grotesquely swollen, liquid leaching from every pore, my stomach readies to spew once more, but the Lord lovingly intervenes and I settle.  A comfortable chair placed beside the king’s majestic bed for my benefit, I sit upon it and then rest my hand upon one of his, my fingers resting upon the very signet ring that once saved myne very life. “I am here, Majesty. It be mine honor  you beckoned I come.”

I feel him hold on to my hand, though weakly, with purpose. His Majesty, he knows I am with him. Praise be to God. If he knows I am here, surely he knows God is too. Surely he will trust in the Lord in his last moments. His Majesty’s soul will be saved with my help, and with a grateful heart my last service will be done onto him.

Though His Majesty did once make me promise in a small moment of weakness after Queen Jane passed over to the Lord, there will be no last rites, no extreme unction. We are brought to the Lord by our faith and faith alone.  For the last fortnight, I dwelt, worried, and prayed most earnestly. Do I follow His Majesty’s expressed wishes? Do I keep my promises to him? In the morning light of conscience last night, God gave me His answer. Yes, we are brought forth to the Lord by our faith and faith alone. This is God’s truth, and no man can overrule Him, not even my noble Majesty to whom all else I submitted, even at the expense of myne own values and conscience, his word always supreme.

Overcome with emotion, tears well. I am unashamed. His Majesty saw my tears before, the last time when first meeting after dear Cromwell breathed his last, brought forth to the Lord by his faith and the ax. Few words were spoken. The letter already written and sent, he knew my heart. “Your Grace, what is done I had to do. From this day forth, I rule the council. I trust no man but you, no man.” From that day on, I lived in fear I would lose that trust and tread with the caution of a man hunted, my faith and truth kept close to save my very skin to await what now lays ahead — a new day, a new dawn, a Protestant England.

I venture carefully, speaking softly as a church mouse. We are alone with God, but are we really? “Majesty, as scripture says in the Book of John, ‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.’ Do you trust in our Lord God?”

Silence blares as loud as canon fire. No sign tells me. “Please Lord, let him hear me. Let His Majesty answer, Lord. I beseech you.”

I try once more. “Majesty, with all your heart and soul, do you trust in our Lord God, all faith in him?”

God and His Majesty answer my prayers. The King squeezes my hand, weakly yes, but his answer clear. Relief washes over me. His Majesty’s soul is saved through the strength of his faith by our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. God be praised.

“Do pray with me Majesty if you can. Thoughts be words, and whether old Greek, Latin, German or English, whether Tyndale, Erasmus, Luther or the Bishop of Rome, all say the same from God’s Holy Word. ‘For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them’.”

Henry VIII Coat of Arms

Henry VIII Coat of Arms.

I find my courage once more. No papal prayers will come from my mouth. No Roman Catholic leanings will taint His Majesty in his journey to the Lord. I look to the holy oil, chalice, wine, bread and rosaries left on the night table for my use. No, there is no need for them. There will be no penance, no anointing, and O Lord I praise you, no final Eucharist. I stand, bending so I may still hold His Majesty’s hand and pray simply. That is all one needs, nothing more.

“Almighty God, look on this your servant, Henry, Eighth of this name, King of England, Wales, Ireland and France, Defender of the Faith, lying in great weakness, and comfort him with the promise of life everlasting, given in the resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

I look down upon His Majesty, emotions rising to the surface. Still weak at the knees and stomach churning from the stench of this dreadful place, I bend down further still and kiss his hand and then the signet ring that binds us. I whisper, “I will submit humbly to and serve with all earnestness and love my dear beloved Edward, Prince of Wales, your longed for and blessed begotten heir as I ever did you, Majesty. That is my solemn promise and vow.”

Swirling through my mind come memories of our kinship though both trying times and glory, submission to his will often at the expense of my own, sometimes even at the expense of God’s. Tears of both mourning and relief flow freely. My heart bleeds, yet finally rests with the knowledge that what comes next is God’s will. I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my vestments and compose myself before saying what I must. Alas, there be no point to fighting death any longer. God waits patiently. His Majesty’s suffering long now many years, his faith is professed, his salvation assured. I say simply, as mayhaps he just needs a prod, “Now be the time to let go, Majesty. God’s kingdom awaits.”

~~~~~ Fade to Black ~~~~


King Henry VIII Tudor Dynasty

King Henry VIII

Lusty Youth Should Us Ensue

Lusty Youth should us ensue,
His merry heart shall sure all rue.
For whatsoever they do him tell
It is not for him, we know it well.

For they would have him his liberty refrain,
And all merry company for to disdain.
But I will not do whatsoever they say,
But follow his mind in all that we may.

How should Youth himself best use
But all disdainers for to refuse?
Youth has as chief assurance
Honest mirth with virtue’s pastance.

For in them consists great honour,
Though that disdainers would therein put error.
For they do sue to get them grace,
All only riches to purchase.

With good order, counsel, and equity,
Good Lord grant us our mansion to be.
For without their good guidance
Youth should fall in great mischance.

For Youth is frail and prompt to do
As well vices as virtues to ensue.
Wherefore by these he must be guided,
And virtue’s pastance must be therein used.

Now unto God this prayer we make,
That this rude play may well betake
And that we may our faults amend
And bliss obtain at our last end.

~~ King Henry VIII ~~


This lasting gift to the world from King Henry VIII is Pastime with Good Company, also known as The King’s Ballad (The Kynges Balade). It is an English folk song written by King Henry VIII in the first years of the 16th century, shortly after being crowned. It is performed by Gryphon.

King Henry VIII’s lasting poetry gift to world above Lusty Youth Should Us Ensue was penned at some point between 1510 and 1515.


The Duchess of Surprise, UK Court

November 14, 2013 in Historical Fiction, Tudor Uk Court by ADMIN: Royal Squire








Mary Brandon

Mary could not wait to reach Westhrope; if she ever returned to court it would not be with the ” Great Boleyn Whore ” there. She would happily ride for days till her entourage reached her beloved home. She had been riding away from court for some time feeling sick from the king threatening her children, all for Anne Boleyn. She did not notice what ran before her mare that spooked her and before she knew what happened she was thrown from her favorite horse. She had never been thrown from a horse her entire life. She tried to rise and felt the blood flowing down her face. She must have hit her head. Her groomsmen were speaking to her but she could barely make out what they were saying, all she could hear was “Wufhal”. When she awoke she was in an elegant bedroom being attended to by a girl who looked like an angel. She tried to speak but she felt woozy again and the angel made her lie back as she wiped her forehead with rosewater. She closed her eyes and heard the angel say her name was Jane. Mary whispered….Jane.



Jane Seymour

I kept a beside vigil beside the Duchess of Suffolk until the physician, and eventually myself, were satisfied that the Duchess would make a recovery. The Duchess’s servants had informed the Seymour staff that they were returning to Westhrope, after the King and his sister had their largest argument to date, all about the Queen. I felt a flush of nervousness if the Queen discovered I was delayed in my return to court to care for the King’s sister. But I could not leave her. She was kind to all about her… she had defied her brother for love, which I could not help but admire. When the Duchess had opened her eyes I promised to care for her till she made complete recovery, ordering the serving girl to fill the room with flowers to brighten the Duchess when she woke again next.




Mary Brandon

download (1)

I hear humming and open my eyes, the angel named Jane is there again. I feel so parched, my throat stings and I feel as if dirt is in it. I cover my throat and Jane gives me a knowing look and gives me some light wine that instantly soothes my throat. I look around and have no idea how long I have been here. The room is filled with shiny, silver vessels filled with the most vibrant and fragrant flowers, the room smells sweet and feels nice and cool. I look and see that I have been changed into a beautiful, linen, night dress. Did Jane do all this? I thank her for the wine and do not recognize my own voice. I try to speak again and I croak out the words.” Lady Jane, thank you for your tender care. Can you tell me where I am and what has happened to me and my staff? My ladies?”




Jane Seymour

I sit beside the Lady Mary, forgetting myself and placing the back of my hand against her forehead to ensure that her temperature had not begin to rise again.

”Your Grace, it has been a few days since your horse threw you from your seat. You hit your head I am afraid, but the physician believes you will make a full recover,” I pause to smile and straighten the bed linen, ”And I believe he was correct. Does your Grace feel any pain?”

I continue to fuss to distract myself from the King’s sister who is now in our guest chamber.

”The majority of your travelling party has continued to Westhrope. We expect the Duke today.”



Mary Brandon

” I saw the care that you gave me. At first I thought you were an angel, you do have the face of one. ” I smile at her ” I could not have gotten better care if I had been at Westhrope or at court. I have seen another woman with you, she bears some resemblance, is she your sister? Please Lady Jane, have a seat and keep me company. How can I ever repay you for your care?”

Now that my head is not in as much pain and I am more alert, I look over Jane more closely. She is the antithesis of Anne Boleyn, sweet, loyal, pale and blonde. Her presence is soothing, she is soft spoken and comes from a gracious family, surely her family cannot be a nest of vipers of the like of the Boleyns.


Elizabeth Seymour


I walk in and bring a flagon of our best claret to give to Jane for the queen of France……oops….. the Duchess of Suffolk. She may be a duchess yet England calls her the queen of France and her Majesty. But Jane is so clever calling her your Grace which is the proper title for both. Jane has been in charge of her care. I walk silently in the room to give Jane the wine and I see her sitting next to her Grace and conversing. I smile at her and curtesy.

” Your Grace, you are alert, you gave us all a freight. But here you are with your rosy cheeks again. You could not find a better care taker in all of England. Jane can heal anyone of what ails them.”

I pour 2 goblets of wine, one for Jane and one for her Grace and hand it to each of them. Who would believe that our Jane would end up in charge of his Majesty’s sister. This can only bode well for my beloved Jane. Surely it is a sign from God.

” If you can excuse me your Grace. I am needed somewhere else but you are in the best of hands. I shall come back later with a special herbal drink that Jane makes that brings relief to any pain you may still have. ”



Jane Seymour

I flush at my sister’s kind words, but peek a look at the King’s sister from beneath my lashes- she is so kind… to think she had the current queen serve her as a maid! If Queen Anne was not in her downward spiral I might think to ask for a place in her Grace’s household.

I turn to Elizabeth with a smile.

”I thank you sweet sister, you are kindness itself. Your Grace, your health is all I need to see. There is no repayment necessary. I have been blessed in my siblings as you see with Elizabeth here. Have you met our brothers Edward and Thomas Seymour at Court?”

I am surprised Edward has not rushed straight back to Wulf Hall with royal blood beneath our roof. The messenger must be waylaid.




Edward Seymour

Busy eyeing the coming and goings at court, a messenger comes up to Edward Seymour and informs him of the injured Duchess of Suffolk resting at Wulf Hall under the care of his sister, Jane for more than a few hours. Edward glared at the messenger for bringing the message so late. He hissed ”Fool!” as he pushed passed him and headed toward the stables.

Nearly killing his precious stallion, Edward rode with great speed to Wulf Hall at once. Once there, He rushed into the great hall and cried out, ”Jane?!…Jane!, Where are you?”



Jane Seymour

A maid rushes into the room, the Duchess raising a royal eyebrow, I give a disapproving look with a sharp word on the edge of my tongue as the maid drops into a flustered curtsey and quickly whispering that my brother has arrived.

I stand before her Grace who once was queen of France.

”Your Grace, I hope you will allow my brother Edward to pay his respects, he has freshly returned from court.”




Mary Brandon

” I think I have seen him at court before and your other brother too. It would be an honor to receive your brother. I must thank him for the good care you Seymours have given me. I want you to know that I will never forget your kindness and I am in your debt. Sit with me Jane and tell me about yourself. I want to know everything. If you are at court, who you serve and all your interests. ” I take her hand in mine, ” I know we are going to be very good friends. ”




Jane Seymour

I nod to my maid who scurries away to my brother to inform him our exulted guest will receive him.

”It pleases my heart that you have recovered, your Grace, I cannot bare to see someone in pain. I find joy in caring for others.”

I smile at the kind hearted lady before me. Will she continue to smile once she knows whom I serve?

I take a deep breath and continue.

”I have had the pleasure of serving the good Queen Katherine, and was selected to serve… the current Queen. She was good enough to dismiss me and return to Wulf Hall to visit my family. I am not one of her favourites, therefore she does not require my continued, undivided attention.”

I look down at my hands and smooth the bed covers to busy my hands


Mary Brandon

” Then we have much in common for I am not one of her favorites either. I grew up with Queen Katherine, she is more of a sister to me then Margaret was. I cannot simply stop loving her because the king has. Tell me Mistress Seymour, have you met the king? I know he would like someone with your kindness and virtue to be at court. He would not want you wasting your talents home here at Wufhall, though I would be more then honored to have my rescuer serve me as a good friend. The duke and I will want to reward you. But if you wish to be at court; the duke as much sway over the king. ”



Edward Seymour

As Edward enters the room slowly, his tilted head picks up on the Duchess of Suffolk’s last few words. A sly smirk is pinned on his lips but vanishes as he enters the presence of the Dowager Queen and his young sister. Bowing gracefully as always, he portrays a slight look of worry as he speaks.
”It is an honor to have, Your Grace, in our home, milady. I am sorry to hear of your unfortunate accident and more sorry to have arrived so late to aid you. Alas, I am thankful, my dear sister, Jane has nursed you back to health with her skillful hands.”
Edward nods to Jane approvingly as he continues, ”She is the prize of our house. I hope you are in good comfort, Your Grace?’




Jane Seymour

My heart pounds. I would like a secure place at court.

”I am of no significance to his Majesty your Grace. There are many at court who outshine the likes of me.” I smile shyly at the Duchess of Suffolk, the King’s own sister. I would be honoured to consider you are friend, I would be happy to assist you in any way.

I stand as my brothers enters the room, and I curtsey as he nods his pleasure with my care of the Dowager ,Queen of France




Mary Brandon

I take everything in when I see Jane’s brother enter the room and pay great attention as he speaks to me. I pull my blanket up and take another sip of wine while I try to figure out what type of man he may be. He is happy that I have befriended his sister, a man with ambition as I have heard the same about his brother Sir Thomas. If the Boleyns can rise so high with that harpy just think of the possibilities that could befall the Seymours with their dulcet Jane. I may be out of favor with Henry but Charles is not and could make sure that my brother notices the charming yet humble Jane. She is the perfect antidote to the shrew, whore that took Katherine’s place.

” Sir Edward, I cannot thank you enough for all the good care that I have received by the Seymours at Wufhall, especially by your sister Jane. It was a stroke of luck that my steed picked your manor to throw me at.” I laugh softly with Jane and Edward but I can see the light in his eyes. The Seymours will be more then happy to have their sister attain the attention of the king. ” I was telling Jane how grateful I am to her and that I must find a way to repay all the kindness I have been shown. At the very least his Grace must present Jane to his Majesty so he knows what loyal servants he has in the Seymours.” I think it may be more then luck that brought me to Wufhall.




Edward Seymour

Edward smiled graciously as the Dowager Queen spoke. What a good stroke of luck his sister had stumbled upon in his absence and he was proud of how well Jane had handled it. Yes. Now. with the King’s sisters support, Jane would do very well at court and soon the rest of the family would rise with her success.
”Yes. Your Grace. We are most glad that you have fallen into my sister’s healing hands.. We would be very grateful with your help in presenting our dear Jane to the court. In the meantime, I will go see to the whereabouts of his Grace though I believe he should have been informed by now. I leave you to your rest.”

Edward smiles warmly as he kissed the Princess’s hand, bowing deeply. He nodded to his sister once more, giving her an all knowing look to let the Princess rest once more and left the room.

In the hallway, he instructed a servant to send another missive to the Duke of Suffolk and one to his wife, Anne. With the latter, he also send a heavy purse and added a P.S that read: ”Buy whatever fashionable items you need, my dear for soon we must look as presentable as high as our positions will soon be. And then we will be rewarded with more than what we spend.”

Edward Seymour chuckled softly as he pressed his seal into the warm, red wax.




Written By: Mary Rose Tudor UK Z,  Jane Seymour UK Z, Edward Seymour UK Z



From the Shadows the Seymour’s Will Emerge

October 9, 2013 in Tudor Uk Court by ADMIN: Royal Squire


Edward Seymour sat in the great library of Wulf Hall, pondering the latest events of court with a passive, contemplative expression upon his face. As his mind wandered off, his brother and sisters enter the room suddenly, the noise breaking his scheming trance. Thomas skirted across the room, pretending to waltz with a bottle of wine as his bubbly Elizabeth and glorious Jane giggled at his antics, trailing behind him. Edward just stared at his brother in silence as they all took a seat near him.

Hearing Edward’s voice, Thomas modifies and slows his steps to match the moves he learnt from Isabella. He inwardly smiles but his eyes glitter at his lustful memories of the Spanish Court.

Ed Seymour

Edward rolled his eyes at his brother and then cleared his throat loudly, interrupting his siblings who looked at him with the sweetest of smiles. He chuckled lightly and started:

“Now I know you have all heard the rumours of court. That His Majesty is becoming quite disillusioned with Queen Anne, thanks to her failure in the birth of an heir. Some say her downfall is near. Others say that history is about to repeat itself…and I agree.”

For once, Edward smiles mischievously.

“Our cousin who is very close to the King, Francis Bryan has confirmed this. Though he is cousin to the Boleyn’s as well, he knows when to get off a sinking ship. Out of frustration, His Majesty is now running rampant with his mistresses but eventually he will tire of them and wish to settle once more. Anne, unfortunately for her, is like fire. Too wild, demanding, tempestuous. Though fire is responsible for life, it destroys more than it saves. Someone like that is never good for the King’s ego. She will burn herself eventually. Jane, however is Water. Cool, compliant, pure, tasteful. Water is responsible for everything alive and everything that needs to grow. The Kingdom needs to grow in more than one way. So, I say we give His Majesty a cup of water, and soon he’ll be looking to own the river.

As Edward finishes his speech, Thomas double taps his heels on the floor, squares his shoulders, looks severely at his sisters frowns and shouts


He slowly bends forward pretending the Wine Chalice is his partner, holding ‘her’ in his arms, he places the most delicate kiss on the Receptacle.

Straightening, he then flops next to his sisters. Turning to Edward, a grin spreads across his face,


”Oír es obedecer, mi Maestro,” turning to Jane, he takes her beautiful hand in his,
“Edward, when we speak of our Sister, Henry will be drinking rivers of the French Grape, not the stale water of English rivers. He will be intoxicated by her Noble Beauty, drunk on her Gentle Grace and consumed by her Smouldering Passions, just lying beneath the surface!!”

Releasing Jane’s hand, Thomas whistles three notes, his Spaniel ‘Norfolk’ pads into the room. The dog’s claws click softly on the floor as he enters, as always his tail is wagging furiously and his amber eyes gleam with excitement.
Thomas points to his Sisters feet, letting out a playful bark, Norfolk curls around his Mistresses lower legs, his bright eyes plead for his ears to be scratched.

Jane leans down and obligingly scratches Norfolk’s ears and smiles as he presses his soft head into her hand, taking a moment to consider the words of her two beloved brothers. Jane too has seen the signs, has spoken to the Lady Madge Shelton about this very topic and seen the King’s eyes gaze upon the Queen’s own Ladies- and Madge achieved her desire of the King! She continues to play with Norfolk’s ears as he warms her feet and directs her smile to her siblings.


“My brothers, you are so sweet, and certainly are biased. The Queen’s ladies are all abuzz on the Queen’s fall from grace. He already has taken the sweet Madge in his arms and is enjoying…. the change of temperament.”

I smile and pull my fingers away as Norfolk attempts to kiss my hand in appreciation of the attention. I look sternly at Edward, then Thomas.

”I will not become another mistress for the King.

Elizabeth rises to her sister’s defence as she plays with her cup of wine.

“Brothers, how can you even suggest such a thing to Jane? Besides, as Queen Anne has showed us, the only way to keep the kings attention is to not enter his bed. Jane your countenance being so different from the queen might comfort and soothes him. There is nothing wrong with catching his eye and letting your attributes shine.”

Seymour sisters

Elizabeth smiles at Jane and her brothers as she slowly drinks her wine, watching Norfolk frolic with Jane.

Edward chuckles softly, smirking over his goblet as he takes a sip.

“Surely, my sweet sisters have more faith in me than that. Of course, I do not intend for any of my sisters to be bedded and tossed aside like a common whore. A Seymour Lady is too good for that. No. All I am suggesting is a simple introduction. An introduction to the peaceful family life, I’m sure His Majesty craves now. Jane will do nothing more than be introduced and speak, if His Majesty should offer conversation. I believe her mere presence will do the rest. So…” Edward turns to Jane with a slow smile.

“What say you, little sister? Are you ready to start this process? To become Queen of England?”

Jane arches an eyebrow and continues to smile steadily.

“There is no harm in trying, as long as you will not throw me in to be tossed out when his Majesty is finished.”

Jane sits straight up, arranges her features into her most regal countenance, with a glint of humour in her eyes and looks directly at Edward.

“My dear brothers and sister, let us begin our quest to become England’s first family. If Anne could do it, why not I?”

Edward smiles slyly, ”I can assure you all, no Seymour will ever be used and tossed side. Besides, we excel in one area that the Boleyn’s do not, which is their failure… subtlety.”

Edward chuckled softly as he looked about his siblings. Thomas was looking satisfied, Elizabeth had taken Jane’s hand, both looking excited at the possibility at moving out of the shadows of the Howard’s and Boleyn’s. Soon the Boleyn’s would fall and the Seymour’s would rise.


This was just the beginning.

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