And by "kingdom," we mean everyone but Mary and the Boleyn family.
Henry hasn't sent for his mistress Mary ever since the happy news.
Mary is heartbroken, and she considers fleeing to Hever to live as a farmer spinster for the rest of her days.
The heartbreak doesn't last long, because it turns out the queen isn't with child—she's going through menopause.
The Boleyns want to jump on this opportunity faster than Sally Field in a Boniva commercial. They send Anne to tell the king. She can bear the bad news, and he can turn to Mary for, um, comfort.
Anne discreetly tells Henry about Katherine, but in a fit of anger, he calls out Katherine in front of the entire court.
Mortified, Katherine retreats alone to her chambers.
Mary is conflicted. She wants to be with Henry, but she likes the queen and is upset to see her humiliated publicly.
But there is no time for conflict. Anne instructs Mary to wash herself for when Henry summons her.
Henry calls for Mary the next night.
Soon, the entire court knows Mary as Henry's official mistress. Does it come with a membership card?
Even better: remember that half-finished ship? It's finished, and Henry has christened it the Mary Boleyn. Even JFK never got Marilyn Monroe a ship.
After the ship is christened, Henry tells Mary, "I wish you were queen for all the days" (5.149).
Mary is excited, but the family is not. It means nothing. It's not like Henry can just divorce the queen. Meanwhile, Anne has her own plans.
Anne's eyes aren't on the king. They're on another Henry: Henry Percy.
Anne's sick of Mary getting all the family's favor, and she wants secure a profitable marriage for herself.
Anne cranks her flirt game up to 11, and Percy eventually proposes.
George warns Anne that this could be a bad idea. What if Percy's family disowns him for marrying a common trollop like Anne?
Anne believes their love will triumph over any adversity.
Anne and Percy are wed in a private ceremony, and Anne wastes no time consummating the marriage.
"Not even the Percy family will be able to wriggle out of it when Henry and I tell them that we are wedded and bedded" (5.339). If hashtags existed in the 16th century, #weddedandbedded would be trending.