Read Online At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn by Anne Clinard Barnhill - Free Book Online Page A

when I was young, your age. And at the English court for the first time.” Madge watched as the queen hugged herself, her hair almost black under the shade of the trellis.
    “What was it like for you, Your Grace—your first time at the English court?” Madge said as she plucked a rosebud for herself and inhaled the still-tight fragrance of it.
    “After the French court, there was little excitement for me here, dear coz. I served the princess dowager Catherine and she knew nothing but sewing the king’s shirts, mending clothes for the poor, and reading her Bible, in Latin, of course. It was dreary, I can assure you,” said the queen, laughing.
    “You were on everyone’s mind, I’ll wager. You must have seemed so wise and full of good graces that all the lords must have wanted a betrothal with you,” said Madge, sitting at the queen’s feet on a little stool set there for such a purpose. The queen had motioned for her to sit and Madge was glad; one more minute on her feet and she would have almost had the nerve to ask for such a favor.
    “I did have suitors,” the queen said, a sudden sadness moving across her face.
    “Oh, do tell me, Your Grace! I am so anxious to learn of love and court and how to behave. There are two bothersome fellows I’d like to know how to handle—and you are so good at managing the king in all his moods,” said Madge.
    “Hush, child! I do not manage the king. Nor let anyone hear you say such a thing! His Majesty wouldn’t like to think himself managed by any lady. He is the master here!” said the queen.
    “I am sorry, Your Grace. I meant it as a compliment to your charm and beauty only,” said Madge with her face downcast.
    “Let me tell you how to succeed here, my gentle girl. If you will but follow these laws, engraving them into your heart and mind, you will do well. First, never forget the king is our sovereign lord and holds the power of life and death over us! Second, don’t show your true heart to anyone unless it be your queen. Finally, turn to the Lord God for succor,” the queen said, suddenly serious, her brown eyes arresting Madge’s once again.
    Madge broke the lock on her own green eyes, lowered them, and bowed to the queen.
    “Your wisdom is as great as your beauty, my queen. I shall do my best to obey you in all you desire,” said Madge.
    “Well, enough of such talk. I shall tell you about Lord Henry Percy, the love of my youth, and you shall learn what a young girl should never do,” said the queen, laughing again.

 
    Ten
    Two days prior to the coronation itself, the traditional festivities for the rare anointing of a queen were observed. Madge had ridden with the queen as part of her entourage on the royal barge that had once belonged to the former Queen Catherine, up the Thames to the Tower where the king had appointed sumptuous new apartments for just this occasion. The river was filled with gaily decorated barges and music floated through the air in celebration of the new queen. The queen’s own barge was hung with cloth of gold and heraldic banners. The king greeted Anne at the Tower with a welcoming kiss and there they spent two nights. However, on the day of the coronation, Henry kept his royal person hidden; this was Anne’s day and he did not want to steal any of her glory.
    The day before the coronation, when Anne would receive God’s own anointing, making her the chosen representative of God on this earth, a queen no one could question or dislodge, Madge marched in the parade following the queen’s litter, watching in awe the pageants set before the queen on Saturday as she processed through the City of London dressed in a surcoat of white cloth of tissue and a matching mantle furred with ermine. Her thick black hair hung loose down her back, a stark contrast to the virginal white of her clothing. She rode a litter of white cloth of gold drawn by two palfreys caparisoned in white damask, and on her head, a coif and circlet set with