ISABELLA

  ANNE BOLEYN AND I SHALL BE TOGETHER FOR ETERNITY, no matter what anyone—or any God—may tell us. If we are damned souls, then we least we are damned together.

  I first encountered Anne at English court. It was inevitable once I arrived that she would cross my path, I suppose, as she was the object of the king's affections and she knew everything that happened in court. Perhaps, I dare say, even better than the queen herself. She knew the rumors of my work, so she wanted to figure out who had brought me here. Whether that lady-in-waiting's call for my help that brought me into Anne's life was an act of God or not, Anne and I's fates have become irreversibly intertwined and I think shall be so even for eternity.

  Not, of course, that I should have it any other way. Anne was never simply another noblewoman of English court to me. From the moment I met her, I sensed that she was different. Even in a court of glittering gold and dripping with jewels, Anne stood out from the rest, long before she was queen. I think I was first drawn to her by her eyes. Her gaze feels like it could pierce into my soul, rather like the falcon on her family's crest, and her smile hid secrets that drove men crazy and drew me in like a moth to a flame.

  Though I knew it not when I first laid eyes on her, Anne would forever change my life and our fates would become inextricably bound together for the rest of our lives. Perhaps even for the rest of time, but that will be for our successors to determine.

  All I know now is this one thing:

  Anne Boleyn and I will spend eternity together.

  ?

  HAMPTON COURT PALACE

  1532

  WOMEN WHISPER WHEN I ARRIVE ANYWHERE, given that it is a place where rumors of my work have already reached them. It is expected, given what I do. Most women tend to look the other way when I arrive as well, and say nothing when an offensive husband or unwanted and too forceful suitor is found dead in his chambers.

  My arrival to the Hampton Court Palace where the king resides with his queen and court is no different. It is a sunshine-filled day, and nobles swarm over the greens, most oblivious to my quiet entrance as I should like them to be. It is inevitable that some women's eyes linger upon me, and I can guess their process of thought. The first is the wonderment if I am who they think I am, the second is the realization that I am and therefore something is about to occur. The third is most certainly the bleakest: Who is to die within the fortnight?

  It is not usually the women I have to worry about noticing me, however. I provide services most often to them, and in return, they protect me from any possible suspicion falling upon my head. The same is true for the noblewoman I have come to serve. In exchange for my aid in ridding her of a pest, she will ensure I am safe and no one suspects a thing. She has arranged my quiet arrival, to which I am thankful, for it is far easier to ride into a village and leave than it is to attempt coming into the royal palace without being questioned why I am there.

  The court bustles around me as I am escorted through the gates by a maid. I have heard of the beauties of this palace, but no accounts compare to it in real life. Imposing walls arch over my head, stark against a sapphire sky, and it is easy to see how this is fit to be the home of a king. As the maid shows me through the halls, I take a moment to breathe in my new surroundings. Such a shame that a beautiful place is so full of dangers that stalk its halls. Beautifully carved wood arches overhead, holding white walls hung with paintings of the monarchs of old and new, of stunning landscapes and other revered figures.

  "Thank you," are my quiet words to the girl as she shows me to a guest chamber, where some of my dresses have already been unpacked and readied for me. I am to greet the queen in just a few hours, and I must look presentable to her. Before I do so, I have one other meeting, a far more important one I dare say.

  "Lady Windsor." The smooth voice sounds at the entry of the chamber, hardly a moment after the maid has parted. "The queen bids me welcome you to the palace. I come bringing a gift." A clever ruse. If anyone should ask, she only needs to mention the queen. It's common for ladies-in-waiting to give gifts on the queen's behalf to new guests.

  "Lady Willoughby," I reply swiftly, an invitation for her to step in and close the door. She does so in a swirl of deep green, placing a book on the chair before shutting the doors. I eye the gift she has brought, curious as to what it is. "Please give Her Highness my gratitude."

  Lady Willoughby is a woman of fair complexation, with a hint of brilliant red hair peeking out from underneath her hat. She is a quiet-spoken woman, though I gain the sense that she is a firm woman. Not much will slip by her. She is the beauty I have heard about, and I am curious to see if it is true that all of Queen Katharine's women are as beautiful. I was but a babe nursing at my mother's breast when Queen Katharine wedded King Henry, but growing up, I heard many stories about her, including her bravery on the front lines of the war. It is to be expected, though, considering her parentage.

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  "There is much to be discussed in such a short time," I offer to her, and move to the chairs set in the center of the room. "Come. Tell me why you have asked for my services. I surely would not have journeyed out all this way without knowing more, except for an important lady as yourself." She takes my invitation to sit, and I see the slight dart of her eyes about. "What is troubling you?"

  "A suitor," she finally utters. A sigh is drawn from her rosy lips. "He has begged again and again to court me, but my heart belongs to another. I would not normally ask such a service, but I fear he may become forceful in his pursuit of my hand." Ah. There it is. "If he is to do such a thing, my chances of a good marriage are ruined, and surely the man I love will be forced to reject me as well. I should be lucky if Her Highness kept me on."

  That is the tragedy of being a woman in a man's world.

  "You have offered protection," I respond after a moment. I gather my thoughts before continuing. "This implies he is powerful, Lady Willoughby. Perhaps more powerful than you if he can do such a thing and go unpunished, as you seem to suggest."

  "Indeed." The woman takes in a breath. "He is a lord at court here, and even Her Highness' attempts to protect me from his advances fail. The king, obviously, could not be concerned and so the lord has continued to plague me."

  "Then what is to say he will not come after me if he fails to die?"

  "I can guarantee you my discreet protection. It will not be absolute, and I am sure you are well aware that it is dangerous, but you would be saving my life, Lady Windsor. My future. Please, I beg of you, help me and I can protect you here," she whispers. Our voices have been quiet this entire time, and we have been huddled together to prevent any listening ears from overhearing. That could mean both of our deaths.

  I certainly don't need Lady Willoughby's money, nor any favors. I have my own estate, and my own fundings, but that is not the reason I practise what I do. I took this art up to help women like Lady Willoughby out with men like the one who cannot take no for answer. If I refuse her now simply because I am afraid, then I will live with the knowledge that he can and will ruin her if she does not give into his demands. And, like every man I have disposed of thus far, he will eventually tire of her and toss her to the side.

  "Meet me tomorrow night, at midnight," I finally agree. "I will provide you with what you need, but you must heed my instructions exceedingly carefully. If you do, no one will suspect that he was poisoned, but ignore them and it will be obvious that he did not die of a natural sickness."

  "Thank you, Lady Windsor," she breathes. "Thank you so much. I will do exactly as you ask, I swear it."

  "Good."

  "I must go, so I do not arouse suspicion, but I will come back to escort you to Her Highness. Please remember that if you need anything while you are here, do not hesitate to let me know. I will help in whatever way I can."

  "Thank you, Lady Willoughby."

  She rises from the seat, smoothing her dress down as she does so, her hands a contrast to the deep pine of the cloth. The color reminds me of the villages I have ridden through surrounded by those trees, the ones who never seem to die, even in the bleakest of winters. Perhaps their resilience is the reason I love the scent of pine - it serves as a reminder of my own perseverance.

  "I will be back briefly," she reminds me, before resuming her official voice and disappearing from my chamber.

  I allow the assigned maids bustle in, one to draw me a bath and one to help me dress when I am done. I am not that loose-lipped, mostly deep in thought but partly due to my cautious trust of them. They are maids whose loyalties could lie with anyone in this castle, and I don't feel inclined to mindlessly chat with them anyway.

  The bathing is done soon, and the second maid, whose name I have learned is Adelaide, helps me into a gown of purple, the color of freshly grown grapes. I have found I enjoy this color quite a bit. When I am done, I dismiss the women, having let them unpack my things. I must remain here after Lady Willoughby administers the poison for the first time to ensure she does not overdo it. To do so, I must first write down a list of instructions, and the dosage she has to give him each night.

  I carry two of the ingredients with me to mix the poison, but I need a bowl and privacy as well as access to the third ingredient. As I consider what I could use and how I can gain the third ingredient, fresh belladonna, my eyes fall upon the bowl of fruit on the table. There is one thing down, and I am sure the forest surrounding the palace must have belladonna. Perhaps an afternoon stroll will help me.

  As I don my simple blue cloak and tuck my gloves into a hidden pocket of the cloak, I move to the door. I shut it quietly and move through the halls, making a note to keep an eye on the time. I cannot be late to present myself to the queen.

  An amused voice floats past me, accompanied by another female's, and I glance curiously over. Two women are strolling in my direction, one in brilliant blue rivaling the sky outside and the other a pale yellow, the color of the sunshine. Two happy women, by the smiles on their faces and the giggles they share. I continue to move, but the woman in blue has my particular attention and it seems she notices. She glances up to me, dark eyes finding mine and holding my gaze.

  I can't help but notice the initial hung around her neck too, in the shape of a B, with three little pearls hanging off the bottom. Even a traveler such as myself has heard of the king's new fascination, the woman who went to France and Austria and whose family is in high favor with the crown.

  Anne Boleyn gives me a knowing look as she moves on.