29th of February 1532 - London, England

"Anne is the Queen of England and our grandson will be King one day. Mary is to be a Countess once she marries the Stafford boy and George is a Duke in his own right," Thomas mused handing over a drink to his wife with a smile. 

Never in his life had he thought that they would rise like this, secure in their positions now that Anne had given the King a healthy son who appeared to greatly favour his father in looks. 

The new Prince of Wales was a blessing and the celebrations had continued long after his birth, though there were no doubts in Thomas's mind that a daughter would not have been celebrated like this. 

So secure in the birth of his son, the King had announced that his natural daughter by the Dowager Princess of Wales would be honoured and titled as the Marquess of Winchester. 

"Our children have done well. We have been blessed with four healthy grandchildren," Elizabeth agreed with a smile, they had four grandchildren now and she adored each of them even if Thomas was only focused on Anne's son right now. 

Mary had two children from her previous marriage while George had been blessed with a daughter a month before the arrival of Anne's little prince; their children had all been lucky in their marriages thus far. 

Thomas was silent for a moment at her words, he had been most pleased with how his daughter's had done but he would not hide the fact that he was greatly disappointed that George's first child had been a girl. 

Contessina had been named for her great, great, great grandmother on her mother's side, her name unique to the English court and she would certainly stand out for years to come. 

He had not been to see his first grandchild to bear his name and the current heiress to the Boleyn family fortune; he would pray in time that if Clarice could give George a healthy daughter then surely sons would follow in time. 

Afterall he and Elizabeth had been blessed with Mary and two short lived boys before George had been born followed by Anne; their three children had done so well and Thomas couldn't have been prouder.

Perhaps he was being too harsh on Clarice and she had been nothing but loyal since she had married into the Boleyn family; though he remained uncertain of the Italian, he had noted how quickly she had supported their family. 

Clarice had taken a personal risk when she had sided with Anne against the might of the Pope, the Emperor and the Dowager Princess of Wales; if it weren't her brother's arrival with such damning evidence then Anne would not be Queen now. 

There had been no end in sight with Katherine succeeding in stalling and holding steadfast to her lies that she was King Henry's true wife and now the widow of his brother; it might have taken years for Anne to be able to marry. 

Time that would have worked against her in proving the King with a son, a son that was desperately needed; the King wasn't getting younger and if they were lucky then they might not need a regent for Alexander. 

"Here's to our Boleyn Prince. Prince Alexander," Elizabeth stated holding her cup up with a smile, she had been in awe of the young Prince and already could see that he had inherited his father's colouring. 

Alexander's Godfather had been named as the King in France, a snub against the Emperor for his actions that had delayed in King in marrying Anne. 

The French King had been thrilled and had quickly accepted the role of Godfather to the Prince of Wales; expressing his pleasure at being able to act as Godfather to the boy and hoping for an alliance between them. 

His hope being that when his son and Catherine de' Medici married and had issue that perhaps one of their daughter's might be a suitable bride for the future King of England. 

"Prince Alexander. The future King of England," Thomas agreed with a nod of his head, he clinked his cup with Elizabeth's knowing that Anne was secure in her position now. 

Another son in the nursery would be welcome but the pressure had lightened now that she had given birth to Alexander and the King adored the woman that had given him a legitimate son and heir to the throne. 

***

"In honour of His Royal Highness, Prince Alexander's birth. It is the King's pleasure, by this patent, to confer on the Lady Mary Tudor, in her own right and on her offspring the noble title of Marquess of Winchester," Cromwell read staring down at the King's eldest daughter. 

It had been a surprise to many that her name had been included on the list of those being honoured to celebrate the birth of a healthy Prince of Wales. 

Celebrations had lasted for over a week and the King had allowed his Queen to select some of those who had been honoured this day; the first had been a William Stafford who had been elevated to Earl of Buckingham that morning. 

It was said that the young man who was a distant relative of the last Duke of Buckingham had charmed Mary Boleyn and it was his intention to marry her. 

The coronet was placed upon Lady Mary's head along with her new ceremonial robes, her head bowed no doubt taking in the fact that she was a Marquess in her own right and of a title that had been created for her. 

There had been much discussion on what the Lady Mary should be titled, none wished to see her rise too high only to find themselves dealing with a civil war when the King died. 

They would not chance anyone thinking that the young woman would displace the new Prince of Wales and start a war in her name to seat her upon the throne. 

Rising back to her feet, Lady Mary looked towards her father daring to meet his eyes knowing that this title was a reward for her behaviour since he had married Queen Anne. 

She had even heard that there had been discussion on why might be a suitable husband for her, she was sixteen now and it was time for such discussions to begin; a part of her had feared that such a thing would have been neglected. 

Her father leaving her to grow as an old maid while he enjoyed life with his new Queen and their children forgetting the days when she had been the Pearl of his world. 

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Lady Mary whispered bowing to him, she lowered her eyes only wishing that her mother might have been invited to see her investment as the Marquess of Winchester. 

However, Lady Mary felt about her mother at present and how her actions had led to her downfall she had still hoped that she might be here for such a moment but she understood why it could not be. 

With the Queen still in confinement recovering from the birth of her son and preparations already underway for the christening of her new brother; Lady Mary could quite understand why they weren't ready to invite her mother back. it had not been that long ago that her mother had left in disgrace. 

Leaving the hall with her ladies following behind her, the new Marquess of Winchester held her head high feeling rather pleased with how the past week had gone; her father's good mood had spread quickly around the court. 

Despite having wept when the news had first came that Queen Anne had been delivered of a son; something that her own mother had not been able to do. 

A punishment from God for the betrayal and lies that she had spun to keep the throne of that Mary was surer with each day; she had not responded to her mother's letters begging her to come to Kimbolton to visit her since Alexander had been born. 

It had been a great honour to attend her brother's christening given the task of carrying the new Prince on the day and she had greeted her step-mother in kind. 

Holding her beloved baby brother had made Mary think of what it would be like to hold her own children one day; she wished to be married before people thought her an old maid. 

For that to happen then she must continue to be loyal to her father, she would not give him any reason to think that she plotted to take the throne from her brother. 

Ignoring the looks that the Imperial Ambassador sent her way, Mary had her way through the crowded corridor; she was in no mood for him to soil her good mood with words of caution and pleading with her to see her mother. 

Today was the first time that she felt like things were finally turning around for her, she was no longer just the bastard daughter of a King but a Marquess in her own right. 

The title would one day be passed to her children and Mary would accept whatever suitor that her father offered to her, even if it meant marrying one of the Queen's relatives. 

She would not allow herself to be condemned to a life as an old maid while others around her carried on with their lives.