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Lord, thank you,” Anne whispered.
    Lady Mary Kingston went outside to tell Master Kingston that Anne had given birth to a boy. However, she stumbled into Master Cromwell surrounded by the sword-bearing guards.
    Cromwell gripped the lady’s hand to stop her. “Who was born?” he questioned sternly.
    Lady Kingston paused and stared at him. “A healthy boy,” she answered embarrassed.
    Cromwell flinched inwardly at those words. He desperately hoped that even if Anne Boleyn survived, she would give birth to a stillborn child or to a daughter, but not to a healthy boy. It fell short of his expectations, and it was too dangerous for him and for the king, who wanted to marry as soon as possible and who was impatiently waiting for the birth of Anne’s child.
    Cromwell said to Lady Anne Shelton that he would tell the king about the events of that day. Then he left the Tower and hurried home. Tomorrow, early in the morning, Cromwell had to go to the Palace of Whitehall to report the case to the king. Inside he was trembling in fear and uncertainty.
    At the same time, Anne was holding her child in her hands. She was quietly cradling him. She brought the child to her lips and kissed the soft down on the top of his head. A sincere, happy smile illuminated her tired, pale face. Her son was a small perfect copy of Henry, except his eyes and his hair. The child’s hair was black, and he had Anne’s strikingly blue eyes.
    “My son, my dear son,” Anne said lovingly. She placed another soft kiss on her son’s forehead.
    Lady Eleanor Hampton approached Anne’s bed. She was Anne’s favorite lady among all of the women who served the disgraced former queen in the past months. Even Lady Anne Shelton, whom Anne had always considered to be the most loyal lady-in-waiting to her, wasn’t as caring as Lady Eleanor.
    “My lady, how will you name the child?” Eleanor inquired.
    As Anne heard that, a myriad of thoughts whirled in her mind. She knew that Henry would love to call the child Edward, but she didn’t like that name. Moreover, she didn’t want to name her child so because Henry had betrayed her and hadn’t shown any care for their child. She wanted to name the baby in the honor of her deceased brother George, but it was too risky as somebody could perceive it as a hint to the child’s ill parentage. Anne loved many French male names, but it was undesirable to give her child with Henry a foreign name.
    Suddenly, Anne felt a vehement rage running through her veins. She bent her head down to prevent Lady Eleanor from seeing that her blue eyes were dancing with unequivocal anger and rage. Then a thought popped into her head that if Prince Arthur Tudor, Henry’s elder brother, hadn’t died, he would have been the King of England and Henry would most likely have entered the church, as it had been initially planned for Henry by King Henry VII and Lady Margaret Beaufort. If it had happened, Anne would have never fallen in love with Henry and her life wouldn’t have been ruined. Anne decided that she would name her son Arthur. She smiled as she imagined Henry’s reaction to his son’s name.
    Besides, there was also the legendary King Arthur from the ancient times, and Anne had always been fascinated with his personality. Anne’s child was now considered a bastard after the annulment of her marriage to King Henry. King Arthur was the illegitimate son of King Uther Pendragon and a woman named Igraine; despite his illegitimacy, Arthur was a legendary British leader of the late 5 th and early 6 th centuries who led the defense of the British land against the Saxon invaders. King Arthur was great; maybe Anne’s son would also have a great fate, despite the child’s very bleak future as he was viewed not only as a bastard, but also as a child of two traitors.
    Anne’s smile became wider as she made her decision. Arthur was a fine name for her baby boy. It suited him. Perhaps, it would also remind Henry of something.
    Anne raised