A/N: I'm going to try something a bit different with this chapter- it'll be written in third-person past tense whereas all the chapters before it have been written in third-person present. I'll see which one works bests for me.

Also, holy hell it's been a hot minute since I last updated. This fic is still on the backburner while I work on other projects, but I figured I'd post every once in a while.


August 23, 1516

Thomas Boleyn, Master of Hever Castle and patriarch of the Boleyn family, was in a good mood. He was in a very good mood. As his family settled in to break their fasts- that was to say his wife, his heir, and his youngest, for his elder daughters were overseas in France- he smiled broadly. Elizabeth returned his look and took his hand in hers.

"You are pleased this morning, my love," she said.

"Aye."

George, who was sitting to his right, stopped making silly faces to get his sister to laugh. "What's going on, Father?" he asked.

Thomas smiled in approval at his curiosity. After taking a sip of wine from his goblet, he said, "The King is holding a tourney late next month, and everyone is welcomed, but I have recieved an invitation."

"How wondeful!" Elizabeth congradulated him. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

"It is no surprise, my dear. I am one of His Grace's prized diplomats and you were a lady-in-waiting to the Queen for years before Lizzie's birth." At the mention of their youngest, his wife's eyes went to her.

Lizzie had been their miracle child, born ten years after George. Her mother had been four-and-thirty, and the pregnancy had been difficult, but both had lived. Thomas had been dissapointed, at first, that he did not have another son, a spare in case something- God forbid- happened to George, but as time went on, she proved herself to be a bright child, and he mannaged to move past his inital frustration. Now she was two, and he loved her well.

"Am I coming with you, Papa?" she asked.

He paused and considered. "Court is hardly the place for a small child," he said, "But apparently the princesses will be there. Well, at least the Princess Mary. Word is that the King worries so much for the health of her twin that he hardly lets anyone see her."

"Does that mean I can go?"

"'Does that mean I may go,'" Elizabeth corrected their daughter gently.

"All of us will attend," Thomas decided. After all, if the King took a liking to George, it would only help him in the future, and if even one of the princesses formed an attatchment to Lizzie, that could only be a good thing.


September 25, 1516

This time of year, between the crippling heat of August and the biting chill of October, was the best weather to be in, Thomas thought personally. Leaves were turning light yellow and red but barely any had fallen yet, and it was still warm enough to work up a sweat, but not enough to have a stroke.

He rode on his horse besides George, whom he was indulging for this last day of travel or so. His wife and youngest travelled in a carriage behind them, and his brother-in-law, the Earl of Surrey, and his party rode a bit ahead of them.

"Are you excited to go to court, boy?" Thomas asked. His son nodded fiercely.

"Yes, Father."

"Good. Now when we see the King, remember what I taught you. You will drop to one knee. Do not look him in the eyes. Take off your hat when you enter the room. After you rise at his beckoning, you may put it back on, but be sure to stay respectful, yes? Keep your gaze fixed along his brow, or his cheek, but still never look him in the eyes." George winced and hunched over. "None of that either, boy."

"Yes, Father."

They were interrupted by a shout ahead of them.

"Master Boleyn," Surrey yelled back, "Catch up, or we'll be waiting all day!"

Thomas' eye twitched. His hands curled to fists around his reigns. As he kicked his heels lightly into the flanks of his mare, he prepared himself to suffer his wife's family once more.


September 26, 1516

Greenwich Palace was truly a beautiful site. Build by a riverisde, it was encompassed by lust green fields, and crystal-blue water flowed freely across the land. As their horses trotted forward and they grew closer, Thomas saw his son's eyes widen. He smiled.

"They call it the Palace of Placentia," he said. "The King was born here, as were the Princesses. They were Christened in the church here as well."

Greenwich was large but elegant, with balconies and many different wings. It sprawled out across the hills, with magnificent gates which swung open to announce them. Peasants scrambled about their lives and as Thomas swung out of his saddle, servants rushed to attent to him.

But not before they attended Surrey first.

It was logical, of course- Surrey was the heir to a duke and already an earl, as much as a courtesy title as he may have held, but it still made him burn.

Elizabeth and Lizzie stepped out of their carriage, his daughter stumbling a little. Her mother took her arm. George began moving towards her, but Thomas gripped his shoulder tightly.

"You are not some fool to anwer your sister's beck and call," he hissed. "Do not embarass me."

His son glared at his feet but obeyed.

"There's to be a feast tonight," Surrey said as the made their way inside the palace. "They say the princesses will be presented."

Thomas' eyebrows rose to his hairline.

"Both of them?"

"Aye. The King wants his subjects to see both of them, though I suspect the Princess Margaret will be carried away swiftly after she is shown."

"But the Princess Mary will not be? I would assume the King would take them away at the same time if he is presenting them both."

Surrey shrugged. "She is healthy, unlike her twin, and can afford to be exposed to more."

Thomas' eyes went to Lizzie, who was walking beside her mother. He smelled opportunity. Smiling, he said to his wife's brother, "I'll see you there."

Surrey scoffed. "As if you would ever miss it."


A/N: So this was a pretty weak chapter, I know, and I may end up rewriting it, but hey- I got it out! I'll try not to let another seven months go by, lol, even if my asoiaf fics are my top priority rn.

Some important things to say: In 'The Tudors,' George Boleyn was done so dirty. He was not actually a rapist. He will not be in this fic. As I'm sure you've noticed, there are already differences between the show and this fic. This is because it has been primarily based off of actual history with bits and pieces of the show sprinked in. You should be able to understand what's going on, though.

And I bet I surprised ya'll, having a Boleyn-focused chapter (albiet a short one) in a fic about Catherine of Aragon's reincarnated daughter haha.

Finally, holy shit, the research that's gone into this fic is ridiculous and not at all what I was planning. It's a bitch to have to find out all of Thomas Boleyn's diplomatic missions so the timeline makes sense, when Mary and Anne left for France, and which palace Henry VIII used most. For any history nerds out there, I hope you appreciate the (attempted) accuracy.