Alison Weir’s latest novel provides a portrait of Anna of Kleve, Henry VIII’s fourth wife. It opens when Anna is fourteen and discusses the fashion, politics, and concerns of the day in Kleve (Germany). Anna is a staunch Catholic and does not want to marry Henry. She has heard the horrendous stories about his former wives and his erratic temperament. However, she has been raised to obey and her brother is Wilhelm the Duke of Kleve and he wants this alliance with England. After much haggling about the terms of the marriage, with Henry pushing and Wilhelm not wanting to appear too eager, Anna, at age twenty-four, was finally on her way to England to marry a king who was twice her age. The marriage does not go well. After Henry has his marriage to Anna annulled using the grounds that her pre-contract with the Duke of Lorraine when she was just a child was not officially canceled, Anna leads a different life. While Anna is no longer the queen of England, she lives very comfortably, keeping the friendship of Henry’s children, Mary and Elizabeth. She becomes happy with her lot. She no longer has to worry about Henry’s mercurial temperament, or his aging, overweight, and not a little smelly person. Henry has declared that she is to be called his sister. Henry visits Anna from time to time and a friendship develops between them. Rumors about their relationship and Henry’s willingness to take Anna back as his wife are rampant. It sometimes seems there is little else to do at court besides gossip. These rumors upset and plague Anna to no end.

Ms. Weir has done exhaustive research on her subject and has pulled out trinkets for information about Anna and Henry. We are introduced to the many people in Anna’s life, from courtiers to the maids and those who attended her. The reader learns about daily life in both Kleve and England in the 16th century.

I did not want the book to end. It’s not because Anna is a gripping historical figure, either. It’s because Weir captured her struggle so perfectly. Anna was a pawn, an object, with little to no say in her own life. I felt her fear when she lost favor, and I celebrated with her when she was “freed.”