The cardinal threw a platter of food from the bed in a rare flare of temper. It very nearly hit a black cat sitting contentedly in the corner. He glared at the cat and then turned his temper back to Peter. This was the second time Peter had failed him. He looked at the boy who lay naked on his bed and then down at his own body, helpless rage filling his from...head to toe, as it were.

"Get out," he demanded of the boy.

"Do not worry Cardinal..."

In his frustration, the cardinal raised his hand and struck the boy across the face. Blood spattered from the boy's nose and sprayed across the pillow. "I'm not worried! Get out."

Peter held his nose with a cry. He quickly gathered himself and ran from the room. Despite the blood that poured from his nose, he covered his face mostly to hide the smile threatening to pull across his countenance. The cardinal was not begging for death, but this was quite pleasurable. Peter had watched in some fascination as Wolsey had become more and more limp, despite intense efforts to revive the morning tryst.

Once outside the bedchamber, Peter put on his choir uniform and straightened his clothes to leave the room. On his way out he bumped into the king. Immediately, he fell into a deep bow. "S-s-sorry, my King."

"It seems to be a common occurrence this morning. No fear, boy. Is Wolsey about?"

"He is just waking up, Your Majesty."

"On with you then," the king said with a wave of his hand. As Peter left, King Henry sat by a window. He briefly contemplated the Boleyn girl in the hallway. A challenge of chess was certainly a different approach. Certainly, her mother and sister had used different tactics.

King Henry looked towards the cardinal's bedchamber as a cat came out and mewed. It stretched its legs forward languidly and yawned.

"Here kitty, kitty," the king said quietly as he rubbed his fingers close to the ground. The cat came over and rubbed its face against his hand. Henry smiled as he rubbed the cat's ears and picked her up. With a soft purr and an adoring look, the cat curled up on his lap and settled into contentment. "Wolsey! Are you up?"

"Of course, my king."

Feeling some impatience, Henry continued to speak as Wolsey got dressed. "I've had correspondence from Ormond. He seems to want out of the Boleyn engagement. What do you think?" Henry thought about his meeting with Anne Boleyn just a few minutes prior. "I don't know why he wouldn't want to proceed. She seems like a charming girl."

The cardinal entered the sitting room at that moment, straightening his hat upon his head. "You've met Anne?"

"I just...ran into her this morning."

The cardinal raised his eyebrows with some consternation. Rubbing his hands together he continued with his prepared argument. "I think the nuptials should proceed as planned." He watched as the king stroked the cat sitting on his lap. He scowled slightly. The animal had been a witness to his humiliation with Peter. He could swear it looked at him now with mocking delight.

"But if neither the father nor the son wishes to proceed, perhaps we will cause more harm than good. After meeting this Anne, I think we might find another match for her."

"No other match will resolve the claim dispute within the family. This engagement solves many problems."

"I understand. I will think on it. But prepare to nullify the arrangement."

The cardinal could not hide his surprise. "May I ask why?"

Henry cast a lazy gaze towards his advisor, still stroking the cat. "No." And with this, the king stood up, dropping the cat unceremoniously to the floor. It quickly scampered out the door without so much as a glance backward. "I will contemplate, but prepare a missive to be sent. We have other matters to discuss. Eat and join the council within the hour."

With this the king strutted from Wolsey's chambers, leaving the cardinal feeling dazed. He never would have thought James Butler would get his way.

~~

Millie opened her eyes as Circe entered the dimly lit room. "There you are, my dear sweet pet. Come here and help me regain my strength. You took it with you on your journey. With my eyes, went my energy." The cat jumped onto her lap and Millie smiled as she stroked the animal's back. Sending her eyes with her cat had proved more beneficial than she had originally thought. Meaning only to witness Wolsey's predicament, the added enjoyment of the king's visit made her almost giddy with delight.

So, the king has met Anne, Millie thought to herself. She could feel her strength returning to her even as Circe purred against her hand. She was lucky to have such a strong familiar. Perhaps it will be possible to create a bond between him and Anne. Not a love potion, per se. The king should not appear desperate. That would be unbecoming. He needs to remain powerful...regal. Anne impressed him without any magic...but magic always makes things happen so beautifully.

Circe stood up and stretched on Millie's lap, mewing with satisfaction. Millie opened her eyes and smiled at her friend, her energy returned to her once again. "Well, that was quite the experience, was it not, Circe?" She grinned as the cat nodded ever so slightly. "Now, the right spell for the king must be found. Not infatuation...no...something more subtle." Spying her thick spellbook on the shelf, she wandered over and began to flip through the pages. "Not a potion...no, too risky. Being perceived as poisoning the king would not be good for this old neck." She let out a soft cackle, though the thought of such a death did not amuse her.

Millie searched through the pages, but nothing was catching her eye. Leaning against her counter, she stared at the wall for a moment. Circe hopped up onto the book and pawed at the pages, flipping them as delicately as a cat could. Millie watched her in silent fascination. Finally, the cat stopped and tapped the page with her paw, though her eyes had spotted something else in the distance. Millie followed her gaze and spotted a mouse in a corner of the room.

Circe's muscles bunched as she prepared to pounce on the unsuspecting creature. She slowly took a few steps, gingerly moving from the priceless book beneath her. Millie watched with a grin as her precious companion inched her way closer to her prey. The cat clearly wanted to pounce, but the distance was too great yet. Slowly, so slowly, she moved forward until the mouse was within the perfect pouncing space. With lightning-fast agility, the cat leaped and the mouse was in her mouth, barely having time to put up any kind of resistance.

And so the king should be, Millie thought. Unsuspecting. Caught in her web before he realized anything was in the works. As Circe enjoyed her well-earned meal, Millie turned her thoughts to the open page of her book. Her eyebrows shot up as she took in the words on the page. It was almost as if the cat grew smarter every time she shared her body with the witch. Millie would have to contemplate this. Seeing through the cat's eyes often gained her invaluable information, but it might not be worth the risk if it cost her her own knowledge of magic.

The page told of a dust, fine and easily transferred from one object to another. It was similar to a potion in some ways. Once inside the body, it would take its effect. From the cat to the hand, to the eye, perhaps, Millie thought as she remembered the king's touch upon her back...or, rather, Circe's back. His touch made her understand why so many women fell prey to his attentions. There was something about the way he moved his fingers that, even in the body of a cat, had left her wanting more. What an odd sensation, Millie thought, to feel like I need a man's touch. Odd, indeed.

The ingredients of this fine dust did not look like they would be too hard to obtain. The moon's essence, of course. Millie still had lots of that. She also needed some of Anne's blood. Glancing over the other ingredients, she stuttered as she truly interpreted one ingredient. The blood of the victim...she would need the king's blood for this spell to work. How could she get her hands on such a valuable and not-easily-obtained substance? Anne's blood, no problem. She collected a small sample every month for her various schemes. But the king didn't just go around bleeding on a regular basis.

It would have to wait until an opportunity presented itself, then. Time, though, was of the essence. She might need to make her own opportunity. As Millie rolled this thought through her head, the idea of being close enough to the king to collect his blood if and when he bled, was no easy task. She would need a familiar to do the deed so that no risk would come to her own being. And not Circe...no...but the king was a lover of dogs. If she was close enough, perhaps, when a dog bit the king...that would do. "Yes," Millie whispered, "I always thought Anne would be fit for a king...but this is just beautiful...and with access to the king, Christianity better watch out."

She made her way to her chair and lit a fire in the hearth. As she watched the flames flitter and flick upon the wood it consumed, she allowed her mind to remember her daughter, a dangerous thing for her to do. In a flash of blinding pain, she recalled the dancing flames around her daughter's precious body. Anger boiled through Millie's veins. Grief had slowly, over hundreds of years, simmered to a dull ache...but the anger never seemed to dissipate. Perhaps after she'd had her revenge, she would be able to watch flames move without feeling such rage. Perhaps...

~~

A/N Well...here we go...the beginning of Anne and King Henry's fateful match. I hope you enjoyed Millie's plotting. Please don't forget to comment and vote! <3