1. Elizabeth
Ormand, South Leinster, Ireland
May 9th, 1593
Ormand Castle
The frost-bitten air clung to the exposed skin of my fingers as I wandered the halls of my family home. For many sleepless nights in a routinely manner, I walked back and forth. Lost in a daze, eyes glued to the pale blue walls which lingered in front of me. I’m sure to an outsider they may think me crazy, sleazing about in the night like some common thief waiting on their oblivious target to fall into a false sense of security. My bare feet slapped against the marbled floors, candles were lit along the sides, creating a small glow of warmth as I waited tirelessly for an answer. A faint tap of shoes echoed in my ears as I moved with purpose. I paused, listening carefully for the slightest sign of danger. My worry was for naught, as it turned out to be one of my dowry maids. Amy. She curtsied and bowed her head respectively, her hair pulled back into a bun with a red ribbon holding it in place as all the female servants were trained to do.
“Peace and grace to you, my highness.” She said with a conditioned tone of voice. Her eyes, gazing at the floor. Like most who worked for me, or my parents, she knew that any behavior of hers could be seen as a slight against the crown. Time and time again, I told her and the others here at the castle to treat me as they would any other person. Not that it ever stook long enough for it to catch on with the others employed here. A faked smile etched its way onto my face, eyes filled with kindness. I lifted a single hand in her direction, to which she finally quit the curtsy, and returned to a normal posture. “Thank you, my highness.”
“Tell me, what news has arrived? I’ve grown quite tedious waiting over Vander.” I say, adjusting the silk shawl I had thrown over my shoulders. Her facial expression turned dim. As though she sucked on a sour lemon straight after cutting it in half for a nice cup of tea. A single raise of the brow, left the older woman to look flush with embarrassment. Most royals never bothered to get to know their servants. Finding that fear worked best to ensure their loyalty. But my personal view told me that fear, is typically what drove the people into following the enemy when offered a better deal than the previous master. “Go ahead Amy, I will not place any fault upon you.”
“My highness, word has spread that the Lady of the North has begun marching South.” She rushed, fear getting the better of her as she stuttered, and nearly stumbled her own two feet. Seems my dear sister was growing more impatient as the days went. How she became so in depth with the darkness. Like she always belongs to the sweet shadow’s kiss. “They say she intends to face you directly. Here. At the Castle Ormand.”
I held my hand up, stopping Amy in her tracks. I knew quite well enough this could happen at this point. That my dear, elder sister might make way for my kingdom to kill me. To bring about the war that I had been hoping wouldn’t come to pass. I cared too much about the people, as well as my sister who demanded my head upon a silver spike. So be it then. “Thank you, Amy. You may go. If Vander should arrive, please tell him I’m in my father’s old study.”
She curtsied, head bowing as she left me standing alone in the hallway. Knowing that putting on a protest on me being alone, was not part of job. As any royal, be it a princess, or a queen, we need at least a good number of loyal servants to follow us, for a show of status and wealth for a potential husband, but also for safety in case of an assassin. That is, when the assassin isn’t parading around in sheep’s clothes. The eeriness of the dark hall kept my twisted nerves of worry at bay. Only just. How could expect that they might fall in love with thy enemy. Never in my own, wildest dreams did I expect such a thing to occur or happen to me. Hearing the crash of roaring thunder, I swiftly move with a step of grace, never daring to look back behind me for fear of it turning an insipid habit. A chill ran threw me as I reached the staircase as I rushed upwards. A cold blast of wind left the thinly pale hairs on my arms standing up at the ends. The pre-dawn hours, startling my body with the full force of winter. The cold didn’t bother me as it did most of my people who settled down here in the south. They allied themselves to me, with quick vows to fight for me, and for my everlasting reign. In their eyes, while they hated the thought of bowing to a half breed, I was far better as queen then my dear elder sister who murdered their king. So, oaths pledged, and years of hideous war, I find myself resigned to living here at Ormand Castle.
I’ve been asked if I loved living in one of the many castles owned by my family over generations. Where my childhood uses to be as sweet as the spring flowers. Truth be told, I hated it here. I despised the reminder of what used to be and what would never be again. Two loving parents, an older sister who I thought the world of. Who taught me a great deal. Gone in the blink of an eye for one single mistake. All done by my own hand, and hers. My father’s old is covered by darkness. The sunlight having not made its way over the horizon just yet. I shivered, rubbing my arms over the goosebumps forming in little rows. I glided over to the fireplace, and I set three longs at the base of it. Softly, I say, hardly needing any concentration for this. “Erifi.”
A small flash of light, then, a roaring blaze of fire sprung forth. Perfect. Now, for the candles. I dung them out from a glass cabinet sitting to the right. Then began setting them at the four corners of the room. Creating an illuminous glow of warmth. Peaceful and inviting to the eye. When that was finished, I sat down, eyes scanning over the endless number of papers. Each with a request made to me by supporters, vowing allegiance in return for a little extra farmland, and the like. Others asking that I settle the disputes owners had with one another for fear of a fight breaking out. Lastly, others asking for a marriage alliance for any heir I may produce in the future. Be it a son or daughter. This is how Vander found me just an hour later. Scribbling away on blank sheets of paper, and sealing envelopes closed with my personal mark. Golden wax, with a capitalized cursive written E at the center. Shining brightly in the light of the fire. Twice I stoked the pile of wood with the hot poker and added in another log to keep it going. So, when I heard the soft knocking upon the door, I called out in the calmest manner I could manage. “Come in.”
The door creaked, its hinges in dire need of replacement. I willed myself instead to focus on the heat, and the comfort it offered as cold air entered through the doorway. He squeezed himself in, a weary look written into his as he dropped down to his knees, head bowing. “Peace and grace to you, my highness.”
A waved a hand at the man. He, like Amy really must learn to quite the formalities when it came to urgent matters such as this one. It wasted precious time for the truth to be known. I shall have to make it a law. Be it the only way for them to listen to me on this. I don’t care if others thought it out of the realm of normal for subjects and their rulers. “You may rise. What news have you brought for me?”
“Thank you, my highness.” Vander said, looking concerned as he prepared himself. My eyes loomed over the crackling fire, watching as the flames sizzled and burned. Smoke making its own way out into the winter chilled room. Like all things in my life that seemed to go terribly wrong, this fire was all too proud to remind me of them. The mistakes that led up to all the eternal turmoil spilled by it. Like hot metal being pooled out onto skin, bubbling and hot, burning flesh which wafted into the air and into my nostrils. That is when I found myself wandering the halls here, alone, at night, in such a cold drafted room, slowly warming from the fires small offer of comfort, in my father’s old family study till the early hours of morning. When I can, and need some form of family familiarity, I come here, to be reminded that while things look bleak, there is always another trail to follow before making the final plunge on your choices. So that is why you see, when my little spy of a servant returned to me so vastly after being sent out on his mission, my logical part of thinking kicked in immediately. Hear the man out for what he has to say, and then decide, if it were all worth this disarray. His chest heaved up and down as he coughed, clothes soaked, and pale skin dripping wet from the storm outside. Not that there was not one brewing here in the study.
For a minute he shuffled about on his feet, then he gulped, removing his worn-out hat from his head, little droplets sliding down as they were squeezed down from the rough material due to the firmness of his grip. With war with the British, hovering over the horizon and threatening to spill into our quiet depths, everything was slowly breaking apart at the tips. And things must be settled before any of us, mostly me, can help with any of our normal, non-magic folk who would not understand the world hidden and so different from theirs. It is why I urged him swiftly, and yet wanted delicate responses of the situation. His tongue darted out, wetting his dry crack lips as if he had been out under the sun for many long hours, only instead, they had become dry and cracked from the icy winter air. Having been under my leadership for some time, I understood, and he understood what was owed to me for freeing him from his shackles and chains. A free man, who made his money and cared for his family, and everyone else held dearly within his heart. Causing me to anger or spread false information could mean his end. Thus, I would need to trust whatever he said. “My highness, as asked, I followed your commands, did all that you asked of me. To which I doubt very much, that these are the results you were expecting.”
“Speak freely. I do not wish to be here all morning, and I have other important things to prepare for on the morrow.” I said, keeping the trembles of my body, out of my voice, willing myself not to scream or frighten the poor man. He had a lifetime of that prior to me buying him. He did not need much more of it. His pale grey hair shimmering in the dim light. Sweat dripping off his equally greying eyebrows.
He dropped his eyes to the ground, baby blue orbs that were going incredibly soft and filled with unspoken terror of doing such a thing. But he did do his best in giving me what I needed. He had a younger sibling to care for, and he knew I was most generous in rewards when pleased with information about such private things. “My sources tell me, that your hunches are indeed correct. That, and he was spotted with a lady companion of shady character at one of the local pubs just two days prior.”
My inner turmoil crashed, as rogue waves destroy the wood which makes up the ships owned by the crown. Each ripped loose from the large nails crafted to hold it together all by harshest of breezes. It came to a boiling point, throat tightening, and my hands balled into fists, nails digging into the soft creamy skin of my palms and drawing little drips of blood. The sting was welcomed. Physical pain is also nicer to feel than emotional pain. While it was not as long lasting, it was a nicer distraction to the issue at hand. How does life play out after a betrayal by a close lover? What is one supposed to do when everything in the shadows has suddenly become exposed? When your heart has been laid out bare for the entire world to see and mock your ignorance, do you lay on the floor to die, or continue down the road that is life? What does one wish for in that specific instance? Or would it be easier to surrender to nothing or everything? It is like the world was weighing down on my shoulders and with every move made, the pressure increased causing my lungs to feel as though they’d burst at any given minute. Had you told me ahead of time that it would all go down like this thus far, I might have laughed in your face, called you a liar, and let out a slur of curses for saying such a tall tale to me.
Yet the evidence before me shocked me to great lengths in ways no person could ever imagine in their short lifetime. How would I face society now? My reputation all counted on me finding a suitable match, marrying, and producing a few heirs to carry on the bloodline. Only two on that list came to fruition. If no royal baby came to be born, it stood to reason that I am barren, or my husband is. It mattered not now that I knew him to be a traitor. My heart ached, my soul broke, every part of me, falling into denial. From the corner of my eye, I saw a pitying look forming in Vander’s expression. Worried as ever over my well-being. “My highness, I know this is hard to-”
“-No.” I interrupted. My fists slammed into the old oak desk gifted to me by my father. I slid my arms across the oak wood, sending tons of files and papers to the floor, scattering everywhere, landing on the cold floor beneath my feet. The dark room laid cast in shadows lit by the lone pale lavender scented candle that I lit up little over an hour ago, started to flicker away atop the table, set against the window. “No! He wouldn’t betray me like this! He simply wouldn’t!”
“Please stow your anger, my grace! My sources say-” He attempts to de-escalate the heaviness in the room, but I would not have it or care to be reasoned with. A loud crack echoed in the study from my hand slapping him hard across his face. He tumbled down to the floor scared and frightened of my burst of rage. My hand lowered to my side in silence a mere few inches from my hips startling him from what he was trying to say. He trembled, head in his hands as he bowed before me. Pleading for me, to not have him punished, and more importantly, not to have him hanged. I suppose that I knew where the man was coming from, with me being his monarch above everything else. Though, he should not have tempted me so. If he did not do as ordered, he’d not only be looking forward to having his back whipped with thirty lashes, he’d also be sleeping in the cells below the house. His family would go for at least one week with no food.
I knelt on my knees and grabbed him by the collar of his coat, tugging him closer as I whispered in his ear menacingly, too tired to drag out this argument between the two of us. If he knew what was good for him, he would not try and protest. He would soon know; I am not a woman to be trifled with. “See here, your sources are clearly the ones in the wrong. What I am ordering, is that your sources take a second look before returning to me with the information I required. Nothing more, nothing less. Is that understood Vander?”
He quivered in fear as he started to crawl on his hands and knees and back out the doorway upon my releasing him. His eyes, never daring to look away from me as I stood tall, towering over the coward who dare test my patience which had worn thin. “Of course, your highness.”
He beat it out of there so fast that he slipped from the water which collectively made a mini puddle of water at his feet. I shall have to rectify any of my servant’s apparent need to try and lie to me, and hopefully be able to sway any such notions from their little brains. There was no way I would have believed anything of what he was telling me. I could not. My head, in one way told me I should listen to reason and have no doubts about what been said tonight. As for my heart, it whispered that my servant, and her sources could indeed be wrong and could’ve misinterpreted what they seen, and not understood the evidence gathered for my ears to exclusively hear. Not with everything we have gone through. But still as I swallowed the lump in my throat, I had to be sure. Just as he left, I to walk freely past the office door. A guard standing to the side shuts the door behind me, bowing his head in silent respect as he let me walk the rest of the way alone. I would well not to let Amy go behind my back and bark orders when some weren’t needed to give. Such as having an armed guard waiting outside the door for me when I wasn’t in the know about it.
“Oh, my sweet, sweet love. Wherever did I go wrong?” How did I, Elizabeth, first of her name, go so horridly wrong in picking a suitor? Had I really been so blinded by the love I had for my husband that I missed his plans for ending my life to steal my kingdom from under my nose? Betrayal is a long and winding road when it comes from the very person who owned your heart and soul. Marching down the very stairs I climbed, I made my way for the kitchens. Perhaps a spot of Amy’s tea would put a damper on the hurt swelling up inside of my chest. Even if it was simply for temporary relief.
She curtsied the minute I passed through the open kitchen door. “Your highness, would you like some tea? It is rather cold this morning.”
A single sniff of the air, and I recognized a very familiar order. One whiff of it, and it took me back to the days of old. I paused there, inhaling the sweet smell of sugary goodness. “Amy, is that by chance your famous beignets being cooked as we speak?”
She gave a single nod of the head, already grabbing a plate alongside the tea kettle, and cup. The soft, yummy texture filled my mouth, calming my nerves only just and stowing down the anger which was still trying to boil over as hot water does when it’s reached the height of temperatures. I shall be grateful for this as Amy was one of my many dowry maids, who served me many years, as she did my mother Anne before I was born. While her mind was slightly losing its way as the days went by, she still somehow managed to make me smile by looking after me. Though her daughter had taken over her duties, this being one of them, she still did it anyway. A sort of routine that she never broke out of, and this would not bother me, no, if she didn’t almost hurt herself wandering the dark like she was now. “Would you like more tea?”
“Thank you, Amy. I am fine however and would very much like to return to bed.” I kindly declined, feeling exhausted now that I had the time to take control of my emotions. She nodded at my words and moved off to the side, pressing back into the walls as she waited for me to pass on by her. Her feet echoed my own, a nice comforting sound to hear, and once inside my room, she bid me a quiet goodnight and headed back to her duties in the kitchen.
Thus, leaving me alone to deal with my empty mind, and shattered heart, sleep did not come easily to me so easily this morning. I drifted in and out, with each small breath, listening to the rush of the rain hit the glass of my bedroom window. Just a row of tapping followed by the endless crash of thunder, taking with it the small fragile amount of hope I had left. Why did it feel like the first stage of failure for me? Life, it appeared, failed me of all I could have hoped for. Breaking down what I wanted most from this world. I burned from within, nerves on fire, and rage burning up from the bellowed depths of hell. Hell, truly hath no fury like a woman scorned. I would not forgive, nor forget.
