“It is not ignoble to humble yourself for a cause like this,” Edward says as if he knows what I am thinking. “The papists are in retreat, the king has turned against them. You could get good men released and the king to change the law to free people to pray as they wish. You have to work with your charm and your beauty—with the skills of Eve and the spirit of Our Lady. This is what it is to be a woman of power.”

“That’s odd, for I feel powerless,” I say.

“You must use what you have,” he says, the advice of a good man to a whore for time immemorial. “You must use what you are allowed.”

* * *

I take great care not to say one word that sounds like a challenge to the king. I ask him to explain his thinking on the significance of purgatory, and I am interested when he tells me that there is no evidence for such a state in the Bible and that the theory of purgatory was created by the church solely to finance chantries and Masses. I listen with the air of an eager disciple as he propounds things that I have thought ever since I began my studies. Now he is glancing into books that I have read and hidden for my own safety, and he tells me the things that strike him as if they are a great novelty and I should learn them from him. Little Lady Jane Grey knows these opinions, Princess Elizabeth has read them; I taught them both myself. But now I sit beside the king and exclaim when he describes the blindingly obvious, I admire his discovery of the widely known, and I remark on his perception.

“I shall release the men held on charges of heresy,” he says to me. “A man should not be imprisoned for his conscience, not if he is questioning reverently and thoughtfully.”

Silently, I nod as if I am overwhelmed by the king’s vision.

“You will be glad to know that a preacher like Hugh Latimer can be free to speak again?” Henry prompts me. “He used to preach in your rooms, didn’t he? You can have your afternoon sermons again.”

I speak with meticulous care. “I should be glad to know that innocent men are free. Your Majesty is merciful, and a careful judge of what is right.”

“Will you have your afternoon sermons again?”

I don’t know what he wants to hear, and I am determined to say only what he wants to hear. “If it is your wish. I like to listen to the preachers so that I may understand Your Majesty’s thoughts. It helps me to follow your intricate thinking if I study the fathers of the church.”

“D’you know what Jane Seymour’s motto was?” he suddenly demands.

I flush. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“What was it?”

“I believe it was Bound to Obey and Serve.”