Chapter 3 : Summer 1533
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 23|
Background: Font color:
“It’s been over six years since Eric came to me with the proposition and I’m reaching the end of my wit. I’ve done everything I can to hold them off. But my time is coming. I can feel it,” I told George. He of all people held the most amounts of sympathy and respect for what I was doing, leading my own people and still trying to support Anne at once.
A few days each week, I traveled far into the countryside and returned to the disguised Gaelen castle that once belonged to my ancestors. I met with the lords and we discussed tactics on how to win the war. But they needed me more. Although Anne relied upon me so heavily this year, she had to accept the fact that I’m going to take my place as Queen. I only wish I could have seen the tantrums that erupted when the Boleyns told her that I would assist her for one year more and then I was free to go. I believe that they were more scared of me than anything and I got the feeling that they thought that I would turn them into an animal. Not that I would have much use in my court for a member of my muggle family.
Anne would have Mary and George by her side if she needed help. She grew grown increasingly dependent upon us these past months and has become a true creature not to be reckoned with. She would to bed and barely sleep. She drank wine in the mornings to flush her face so nobody would see her exhaustion and she lived in a dream world where the only to people who existed were her and Henry, just barely in touch with reality. And now that she had a baby in her stomach, she’s become all the more delicate. Everyone waited on her hand and foot, not only because she was Queen now, but also because she was possibly carrying the next Prince of England and all wanted her favor.
Well, all except me.
Each day I looked forward to the time when I would be allowed to ride out from Greenwich to Gaelen Castle and meet with Eric and the others. Anne was due to be locked within her confinement chamber within the week and then I would finally be free.
“Just one more week,” I told Mary, George and myself. We all looked forward to the time when Anne would enter her confinement. I’d be brewing the last of my materials into the love potion that Anne used to continue to hold the king’s attention in her privy chamber and I would leave it for her within her closet. George would finally have the opportunity to have a say in his own life and run with those he chooses. And Mary’s looked forward to it as well. Ever since her husband Carey died, she was lonesome and searched endlessly for a father for her son Henry and daughter Catherine. Someone who works well with the children and she found it in a steward to her father.
The day that Anne entered that dark, windowless chamber was the day my life began. With her bed removed from her inner sanctum, I had all the room I needed to concoct the passionate potion that would free me forevermore. I stood in the middle of the wide oaken room and closed all of her velvet drapes to block out the sunlight. I locked the door with both key and spell and conjured up the large cauldron that I needed to ensure no spilling, nor staining would occur. After clearing a decent area under where I levitated the cauldron, I placed some wood from the hearth and brought a bright blue fire to life over which I would stew the tonic.
The joy of being alone in the Queen’s private rooms was a petty victory, but one I was quite proud of. But the joy came not in knowing that I had the rooms to myself. Oh no, the true joy came in the fact that I knew that if anyone was to be caught for witchcraft now, it would be Anne. And as I stood there in my light chartreuse gown, my thoughts turned to spite and anger as I realized that on my first day of freedom, I was spending it still serving my sister. I wasn’t really free at all. The room began to fill with a sweltering heat and I felt the desire to fling open the windows and allow the fresh air to pour in, a luxury that not even the Queen had. But I knew to keep my secrecy, I couldn’t. So there I stood, mixing nettles with moonstone boiling with heat and malice and stewing the potion as well as my anger.
Hours passed and the concoction, as well as my temper, simmered. Yet as the time came for it to be bottled up and sealed with wax, I found myself wanting to throw in a poison, or perhaps a dash of Veritaserum. Just something to sabotage the ungrateful sister that I’d served for so long. I peeked into the cauldron and noted the characteristic aurora borealis shine that glowed on the surface and inhaled the toxic aroma of sugared pears. ’Another perfect batch,’ I grumbled and began conjuring up the glass vials that would serve Anne for the next few years until she found an apprentice witch to make it for her.
But the spite that grew within me began to overflow. Without thinking, I leaned over the cauldron and spat my anger within. Mixing the brew thoroughly, I ladled the potion into the heart shaped containers. As the numbers of flasks swelled, I was almost sad to see no visual or aromatic effects of my actions. I numbered the flasks with the date, sealed them with a proper Tudor green wax, and placed them behind the remaining vessels that held the same clear liquid. With a flick of my wrist, the room was clean and although a faint scent of sugared pears remained, I assumed that the scent would air out before the room was to be used again. And as a free woman, I stepped over the threshold of Anne’s room one final time, finally free of the claustrophobic atmosphere that held me in my position here in King Henry VIII’s court.
I made my way outside into the palace courtyard where the wintry flowers were beginning to bloom and the scent of fresh pumpkins filled the air. The stone walls were spotted with bouts of moss and vine as they crawled their way to the skies. I was finally able to skip and hop along the flagstone pathway that wound its’ way through the rose gardens and topiary forest. I was finally free.
“Good Evening, Milady.”
“And Good Evening to you good Sir! How are you on this beautiful, clear night?” I asked playfully not bothering to turn around and continuing to spin in circles, not seeing any distinct features of the walls or the surrounding courtiers.
“Your Majesty, it is time.”
A/N: I know it’s short. But it’s only short because the next chapter is about twice this length and I didn’t want to have over 3,000 words in one chapter! I know that even I would get bored reading it! But the next chapter is written and simply waiting for this one to be validated! R/R Please! I LOVE Feedback!
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
To Live With...