A fifteen year old boy died at Greenwich on the sixth of July 1553. His death put three women on a collision course none of them had chosen. Two would soon become queens. The third would watch and wait.
His father had declared his sisters illegitimate. His father's will had restored them. As he lay dying he removed them again. A hundred men signed the document.
Bessie Blount gave Henry VIII a son. He gave the boy a dukedom and a name that meant son of the king. A year later she may have given him a daughter. He gave her nothing.
Katherine Grey was twenty years old, eight months pregnant, and standing outside Robert Dudley's bedroom in the middle of the night asking him to help her. She had a secret husband, a missing marriage certificate, and a cousin on the throne who would never forgive her for any of it. She had done nothing except fall in love at the wrong time and with the wrong man. She was trapped in the wrong body. It was a body that carried royal blood she had never asked for and could not give back.
Her daughter was queen for nine days and beheaded at sixteen or seventeen. Frances Brandon attended to the consequences, settled the estate, and remarried within months. She lived for another decade. History has never quite known what to do with her. Neither, probably, did she.
She was the last of them. Every other child Henry VIII had wanted, made, or broken was dead before she took the throne. She had survived them all by learning, very young, that need was the thing that killed you.