On a bright May evening, a man is making his way on horseback from London to his family home in Kent. Over the last few days, he has witnessed events which no one in their lifetime would ever wish to see. Now his wife and his mother are waiting for him to return, and he must tell them the news which he knows they are dreading.
He rounds the last corner on the path and sees Hever Castle in front of him. He thinks back to how proud the family were only a few short years ago, and how far they had risen in the favour of the king, who, until a short time ago, he could have called his son-in-law. Now, the time for such familiarity is past, everything is lost. But no, now is not the time for such thoughts. What is left of Thomas Boleyn's family needs him, and he must stay strong. He can weep later, when he is alone.
Inside the castle, two women are seated inside the great hall, beside a fire. At the sound of the opening door, they both get up. As the younger woman sees her husband, she crosses the room towards her husband.
'Is it done, husband?' she asks.
Thomas speaks gently. 'Yes, it is done.'
'Oh my poor children!' Elizabeth is distraught. Thomas gathers her into his arms. She is weeping. 'Did they suffer much?' she asks.
'It was over very quickly' said Thomas. 'Both of them died bravely. George made a noble speech, and he did not have to watch the others die so he was spared that horror. As for today, the swordsman of Calais is very good, as you have heard, and it was kind of the king to summon him and spare Anne...'
Elizabeth looks up at him. She starts to speak, but her voice is so choked with emotion that she can hardly be heard. 'You call him kind? He has executed our children, and you say that he is kind! How can you say this? Witnessing such terrible sights must have gone to your head!'
Elizabeth walks away from her husband, clearly lost in thought. 'Ah, Thomas, how has it all come to this? Why has death visited us in this fashion? It must be a divine judgement. We have displeased God, so he has stopped favouring us, and instead has taken our children from us.'
'We still have one child left,' Thomas reminds her. 'Mary has not gone from us. She is still our daughter, no matter what she may have done in the past. And now she is the only child we have left.'
'Pah,' spat Elizabeth. 'She is a most ungrateful child. Her the King's mistress, and could have made a most advantageous marriage! Instead, she goes off and gets herself wed to a common soldier! At least Bessie Blount had the decency to marry a gentleman!'
'Hush, child.' The older woman has crossed the room. She puts her arm around Elizabeth. 'I know this is difficult for you, but Mary should be with you now. Whatever has passed between you up to now, you must put it behind you.' Margaret Butler looks at her son. 'Will you ride to Rochford Hall for her? We should all be together, on this of all nights.'
