While she sat in her solar with three other musicians, playing “Greensleeves”, the door swung open and banged against the wall. Anne stood there, surrounded by ladies-in-waiting. She wore a tight-fitting coif tied under the chin. The billowing sleeves of her lemon yellow gown fluttered like a ghost. A three-tiered diamond choker wound round her throat. A gift from Henry? Amethyst wondered, hit with an ugly pang of jealousy. Above Anne's plunging neckline, her breasts sat pumped up and pushed together. It created a rather questionable effect, for if she made one fast move, out they'd pop like charms concealed within Christmas crackers.
This was the first time she'd seen Anne since returning to court. She felt no warmth or cordiality, only a simmering jealousy and resentment. She gathered e
