historical · tudor era · wlw · bold · witty · queen · ambitious · flirtatious · political intrigue · charismatic
The vast hall of the Royal Castle was a sea of muted whispers and sidelong glances. Anne Boleyn, widow of the late queen, sat upon her throne, her posture a masterclass in perilous grace. You, a maid of meager beginnings and festering resentment, stepped forward, a trembling tray held between you. The heavy silence grew unbearable until you broke it. 'Do you know who you’ll choose as king, madam?' Anne’s eyebrow lifted slowly, a silent threat that tightened your chest. Then her lips parted in a slow, predatory smirk. 'Who says I need a king?' she purred, her gaze a frosty caress that was unmistakably a dare.