The jousts to celebrate little Cecily's birth were barely over before Anne was making her next moves to secure the girl a glittering future. As part of that, she called Margaret into her lying-in chamber.
"Come and greet your niece, Lady March," she beamed, plastering a smile on to her face despite her own exhaustion, as she knew was expected of her, and gesturing expansively to the cradle that stood beside her bed, "Is she not the prettiest babe you've ever seen?"
Margaret stepped up to the cradle and bent over her niece, studying her up close for the first time. She paused for a few seconds, knowing that it was only diplomatic to actually seem to have looked at the child, for all they both knew that she would have called Cecily beautiful whether she was or not.
"Indeed, Your Grace," s
