9
"Four boys in four years," Mumble Herny Tudor said with a warm smile as he gazed down at his newest son, a handsome little lad whose hair bore a darker shade reminiscent of Tudor lineage. His heart swelled with pride as he watched his beloved lady, Queen Anne, laugh softly, her eyes sparkling with joy as she lay on a bed draped in the finest silks that money could buy.
"Yes, we now have William, George, Edmund, and our little Richard," she hummed softly, her voice filled with tenderness as she lovingly listed their sons. The warmth of her words wrapped around the room like a gentle embrace.
"And let us not forget our sweet Elizabeth, our firstborn daughter," Anne added, her expression turning a touch wistful as she thought of the little girl who now faced the cheerful chaos of being surrounded by her rambunctious brothers.
"Poor Lizzy is going to be overrun by her brothers," jested Anne playfully, a smile dancing on her lips. The thought of Elizabeth, with her delicate features and spirited nature, navigating the playful antics of her boisterous siblings brought a lightness to the room, a promise of joy and laughter that filled their home with warmth.