A/N: As promised, here is the brand new chapter. Thank you to TaylorReneeMagnifique, tricorvus, Island of Grief, IWantColouredRain, and Guest for the reviews on the previous chapter. Enjoy the update, everyone.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Tudors, or any of the characters, Showtime does.

Lady Margaret Shelton, or Madge as her cousins and some of the queen's other ladies referred to her, watched as her cousin, Queen Anne, cradled her newborn daughter in her arms.

If King Henry was somewhat displeased that his second child was a girl, it was clear that his wife was not.

And why should she be? She had already given the king his heir, and no doubt would give him another. In almost two years, she had given him two healthy children. And she was still young, so there was still time.

The infant, Princess Elizabeth, cooed softly as she lay against her mother's chest.

"I will feed her as I fed my son," Queen Anne spoke to the wet-nurse in a tone that brooked no argument. "She is my daughter."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the wet-nurse replied meekly, curtseying as she reluctantly stood aside, allowing the queen to release her breast from her gown before guiding the baby girl's head to it.

As she nursed, Elizabeth's eyes glanced at the people around her. Though she was but a few days old, there was a certain curious look in her eyes, as though she were silently wondering at the world around her.

"Elizabeth," Anne murmured her child's name as though the name itself were a precious treasure. "My Elizabeth. I love you so much, my darling girl."

And she did. She would have loved to have given Henry a Duke of York, the second of the many sons she had promised him. But she couldn't regret the birth of the little girl lying in her arms now. She wouldn't.

Besides, Edward would be the heir. He had already been sent away from court to live in his own household. He was as much the kingdom's boy as Anne's. Elizabeth, while still previous due to the royal blood in her veins, would not be held to the same standard.

Anne had to share her son with England, but Elizabeth was, at least for the time being, all hers.

And in any case, when she was ready to return to the king's bed, she had no doubt that it would not be long before she was with child once more.

But there would be time to worry about that later. For now, she sought only to hold and dote upon her darling daughter.

"The king is said to be less than pleased that his second child by the concubine was a girl," Chapuys reported. "But I fear it will still convince him that he was right to commit this folly. By all accounts, the brat is regarded in every way as a princess."

"She is no princess," Mary frowned. "She is a bastard borne of a harlot. Was she displeased by the child's sex as well?"

"No," Chapuys sighed as he shook his head. "In fact, she was said to be overjoyed."

In truth, it would have been more tolerable, at least in Chapuys's view, if the whore had been disappointed that her second bastard had been a girl. To hear from Brereton and others at court that Anne seemed to adore her newborn daughter only made her offenses against Queen Katherine and Princess Mary that much more heinous. She was free to embrace and be with her daughter while she had so cruelly ripped that chance away from them. Poor Queen Katherine, the last time Chapuys had seen her, she had looked so pale and worn as she sat next to the fire in her chamber. It still pained him to recall how she had gently pleaded for any word of her own daughter. He knew she would have preferred a letter from the princess but hearing of her would comfort her just the same. How those dull eyes had brightened significantly at the mere mention of Princess Mary.

As though she read his thought, Mary spoke again.

"How is my mother?" she asked, her previously cold tone warming.

"She is not well, Your Highness," the Spanish ambassador answered, wishing with all his might that he could have given her better tidings. "But she remains determined to see that justice prevails. She will not submit to the king's demands."

Mary nodded, torn between proud of her mother's strength and worried for her. She knew the More's conditions would take a toll on her mother's health, and she wished more than ever that she had the power to stop this.

She thought back to the time when, several years ago, the sweat had swept through England, as it was wont to do. Anne Boleyn had been among those who had been stricken by the frightening illness, but she had not died from it.

'How fortunate for us all if she had died!" Mary thought with a hint of malice. So many good people had died during that frightening period, why had a wicked whore like Anne survived?

Nevertheless, the true princess was determined to stay strong. For herself, for her mother, and for England.

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Alright, I hope you all enjoyed that and the next chapter will be out on Tuesday, December 8th. Until then, everyone.