Read Online In the Shadow of Lions by Ginger Garrett - Free Book Online

her were her only glimpses of the world.

    The eighth morning she sat at the table, brushing her black hair out, studying her face in the mirror. She didn’t care much for the proportions or effect. The ladies of fashion had pale, powdered skin and fair hair, just as Queen Catherine had. Anne could not undo everything God had set in her, so she regarded herself with only fleeting care. She found greater pleasure in reading and sports, and neither activity required her to be beautiful.
    She was still in her thin shift and had no time to cover herself when the door opened. He stood there.
    “Anne.”
    She glared at him, once, before the view behind him drew her eye. She saw the sun was not yet too high, and the roses were all in bloom. The breeze entered, dancing past him and parading around her chamber.
    “Come with me on a walk,” he said.
    She stood, shoving the chair back in her hurry.
    He held up a hand. “You really should dress.”
    She ground her teeth in humiliation, keeping her eyes away from his. In court, no one was ever to look a king in the eyes, but Henry was known for his bald staring. He kept control this way, the servants said, for he watched every courtier to know their mind even before they spoke.
    “Turn around,” she said, meeting his eyes as she delivered the command.
    He turned.
    Anne slipped a petticoat on, crushing it between her knees so she could pull up the farthingale next. She yanked her bodice down after that, and noticed it was not as tight as last week. Days of anxiety in this prison had left her weak and thin. But she could walk. She would not have to talk, or listen, but she could walk in the open air. She was not altogether dressed, but there was no need to present her best self.

    Within minutes, Anne was outside for the first time in eight days. She touched every new green leaf, ran her hands over every plant and along the rivers of bark running up and down the yew trees.
    Henry watched her but said nothing, keeping a few paces away as she wandered through the garden, testing and inhaling the fragrances and turning her face up to the sun.
    Bees swarmed the tall purple blossoms that edged the beds, and Anne could almost taste the honey that would be on the table in a few weeks. This was a spring thrown out into the world with abandon, every plant and creature catching its fever.
    “Catherine’s ladies say you are a witch,” Henry said.
    “They’re fools and liars. No good Christian should listen to them,” Anne retorted.
    “You’re a good Christian?” Henry asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Yet you’ve listened to fools and liars about me, haven’t you?”
    “I’ve only listened to my sister. How do you classify her?”
    Henry stopped to smell a bloom just beginning to split the green seams of its bud. He didn’t answer.
    “You’ve already taken what you wanted from my family,” Anne finished. “Why must you ruin me, too? You should keep your word and send me away. Today.”
    “That night in the garden, what did you see?” he asked.
    “If you’re worried that I’ll tell, I won’t. Whatever troubled you can remain your secret.”
    “Why were my knees bloodied and my robe wet from tears, Anne? It was because I seek His will above my own. It is a lesson you could learn.”
    Anne frowned and took several steps ahead of him. The guards still kept their posts, following behind and lingering ahead on the path. Her Yeoman was there, and she was ashamed. She did not like being courted by a married king in front of him.
    “You do not know me, Anne, and I suspect you do not know God, either. Have you wept with me as my sons have died in my arms, one after the other? I held each one and knew behind every wall in this miserable place was a man who rejoiced that I had no heir.”
    Anne did not want to hear of his sons. She would never soften her heart to him.
    “Have you ever even prayed for me, good Christian that you are?” he asked, stopping beside her, facing her. “One day I