….as anxiety begins to get the better of me I lift my skirts and run the short distance between our entrance hall, the heavy portcullis and the drawbridge. My imagination is running rampant and with every false alarm I return inside only to imagine the sound of the King’s nearest guard, The Band of Gentlemen Pensions and their fine horses galloping towards us.
In my over sensitive imagination I see their weaponry of sharply honed spears and lances reflecting sunlight between the trees. I hear the herald announce the Kings arrival and even the fluttering of the King’s banners in the breeze.
After countless journeys through Hever’s small courtyard and hours of waiting the moment is finally here. I do hear the banners fluttering; the horses are slowing and trotting toward us. The King is finally here.
The continuous thought in my head is; come on Anne Boleyn, this is your chance to really shine and convince the King that he should offer you a noble worthy of your hand.