10
My heart swelled with warmth at the sight of my dearest daughter, Lizzy. She was blossoming into her beauty more vividly with each passing day, and whenever I beheld her, my spirit felt more alive. I turned slightly, catching the eye of Katherine of Aragon, who mirrored my sentiments with a pained expression. We both shared a silent wish to ease the burdens of our poor daughters, who faced trials we could hardly fathom.
A deep regret settled heavily in my chest as I thought of Mary. The actions I had taken against her weighed on my conscience, and although I yearned to amend my ways, I found myself trapped in the choices I had made. Perhaps, in the distant future when Mary has lived a fulfilling life and joins us in heaven, I will find the courage to kneel before her. There, I will ask for her forgiveness and express my gratitude for the way she cared for Lizzy, nurturing her with a tenderness I failed to show.
"I heard Jane is on death's door..." Katherine's voice emerged slowly, her thick Spanish accent cutting through the silence. The air was heavy with sorrow as we listened to the anguished cries of Jane Anna Maria Tudor, née Seymour, the third wife of Henry, echoing in the distance. My heart ached for her suffering; life had dealt her a cruel hand. I lowered my dark-haired head in reverence, wishing fervently that I could alter the course of events that have led us to such despair.
"I would change so much if I could," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper, yet laden with the weight of unfulfilled aspirations and dreams for our daughters.