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How To Be Queen

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Summary

Was Queen Mary I truly the heartless Monarch she was portrayed in history to be? Or was it just one of the influences of the weight of the Crown causes? - A Historical rewrite with fictional extensions stemmed from this author's brain of the life of Queen Mary Tudor the first. Disclaimer; this is in no way an accurate representation. This is a mirror view of Queen Mary Tudor, aka Bloody Mary, trying to see her from another angle. This book does not glorify the horrible things she did like the burning of the protestants. Finally, this book is NOT about feminism, it is about being a female. Copyright. Raldineviv.

Status
Excerpt
Chapters
1
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
18+

Chapter 1

HOW TO BE QUEEN.

CHAPTER 1.

“You father is dead”

“Thank God. He had lived longer than I estimated. For the man’s inability to keep time, this is a perfect timing.”

*

Mary Marched in, into the Great Hall that had never seen her face since she had returned from Spain.

“Princess,” said Albert, the King, her father’s fat chamberlain ambled towards her. “You are not meant to be here. The Great Hall doesn’t see women except by invitation.”

Mary paused suddenly, and turned to look at the splotchy red face of the man that had served her father.

“Lucky for me. Things are about to change here”

She continued walking briskly towards the throne.

“Changed?” The man asked nervously.

“Yes. Changes, Albert has come. It is time for a new era. And who can usher in a new era like a New Queen?”

“Gentlemen” Mary’s clear voice rang out as she stood in front of the stairs that would take her to her rightful position.

The murmuring didn’t stop, rather they increased, the Nobles of the court were yet to realize that a woman was standing and demanding their attention. Or rather, they did realize that, they didn’t just want to believe it. Mary’s heart twisted in annoyance and disgust, but her face remained placid, her hand clasped. She was going to rule these men and she was going to teach them, in the worst way possible, how to obey their Queen.

She eyed the largest gathering of men that were listening to the Duke of Northumberland, Lord Aubrey, one of her father’s greatest allies, a powerful noble man that treated women like shit. She knew it because he had always treated her with contempt while she was but a young princess.

“You” she called calmly, looking at one of the castle chief guards. He came forward.

“My Princess?”

Queen.

“Lord Aubrey, arrest him”

The man spluttered. “What?” he coughed, “Pardon me your highness for my impertinence, but I beg your pardon? Are you certain?”

Mary was annoyed. If it was father, or any other man at all, he would be falling over himself to carry out the royal command. But she was a princess, and female, was she certain she could carry the consequences of humiliating one of England’s most powerful families? She clenched her teeth briefly. But of course, father would not have needed talk in order to make the court fall silent.

She wondered how many people would miss this guard if she pulled out his own sword and sliced it over his neck.

“Do you question me?”her tone carried enough menace to make him cower.

“N-no. of course not My Princess”

Queen.

“Then you would do well to carry on my order”

He nodded and started moving.

Men, she thought, fucking dogs.

Mary climbed slowly towards the throne, and sighed softly as she sat. This was where she belonged, this was here rightful place, her birthright and she was going to claim it.

And like a god, she looked down on the mere mortals of men, watching the spectacle she had ignited.

*

Roy walked towards the Nobleman that was almost like a King to England, his heart banging and his mind pleading with his brain not to go. The woman was crazy, arrest Lord Aubrey? What? She thought she could just waltz in from Spain and order the death of such a power man?

There were systems in place, position, power, hierarchy! And she thought, a mere princess, could issue the arrest of a powerful Lord that governed the entire north of England? Well, if it were a King, or prince that had issued the order, it would have been well met, perhaps the King or Prince could have a personal score to settle with the Nobleman and had plans to humiliated him. But a princess? A princess knew nothing.

God, the woman was a bloody idiot and her stupidity was going to get her, as well as him, killed.

Everyone knew Lord Aubrey always settled his scores.

Roy had it in his mind to turn back and scoff at the princess, taking her words for a childish prank, or unrequited love or any such thing that would make a woman try to put her hand in fire. But he remembered the flash of steel and blood her had seen in her void gray eyes, that promised hell if he didn’t obey. Roy walked into the midst of the Noble men and hoped he was doing the right thing.

“Lord Aubrey, on the authority of the Princess, you are under arrest”

At first the men paid him no head, till he had reached for the chains they used on prisoners and approached the Duke.

“What are you doing here boy?” the annoyed voice of Lord Aubrey asked, pissed that he was getting his conversation interrupted by a mere guard.

“On the Authority of the Princess of England, you are under arrest”

The speaking stopped, and different Lords, in their different circles stopped speaking and watched. Lord Aubrey and the men in his circles burst into laughter.

“Princess?!” Lord Aubrey asked, “Princess! Gentlemen, a Princess orders my fucking arrest!” He mocked, the hall drew a collection of male, mocking laughter.

Roy was embarrassed, he shouldn’t have followed her order.

“Do you know who you are speaking to boy? I am the Duke of Northumberland”

“And does that mean, Aubrey that you hold more power than the Crown?” Mary asked.

And that was when she was noticed. The occupants of the Great Hall swung to see who was speaking.

What they saw was a disrespectful woman that was siting, not in her place, but in the place of a King, a man.

“Mary,” Aubrey started smoothly.

“Your Highness” she corrected sharply. “Answer me Aubrey, does that mean, you have more power than the Crown?”

“No” he replied condescendingly, “Of course not. But what are you doing up there Mary? Come down let’s have a chat”

“If you, Aubrey, refer to me without the necessary respect attached to my name, you would lose your head”

She was not shocked when he, alongside with other men, chuckled loudly. She had learnt plenty, from her mother’s sister, Catalina who was the empress of Spain, the extent of mockery and contempt men had for women in power.

“Mary, Mary, Mary” Aubrey mused, shaking his head. “You are all grown up now, the last time I saw you-”

“Cut his tongue off”

“What?” Aubrey paled.

“I said,” she looked at the guard who stood him, “Cut his tongue off. If he cannot use it to respect his Mistress, what then does he need it for? Cut the damn ornament or I will do it myself. Or, does the royal guards disrespect their mistress?”

Everyone knew. The royal guards were sworn to the royal family; no matter who they might be. And in this case, Tudor was royal, Mary was their mistress.

The guard took a deep, frustrating breath in.

“What are you doing?” he barked sharply to the guards standing at the sidelines, “Come here and let us fulfil the order of the Princess”

Queen, soon.

“Do it here” she instructed, “I want to watch him loose his tongue for his impertinence.”

Suddenly, it became real to Aubrey.

“You can’t do this-get your stinking, peasant hands off me!”

The Nobleman struggled as he saw his life flash in the reflection of the steel knife that had been brought forward.

“You-you bitch!” he cursed, “Don’t- “the rest of his voice became muffled as his body jerked and his slippery tongue was grabbed by one of the guards, and as efficient as a physician, half of the Duke’s tongue was severed.

“Get me an envelope”, Mary said, speaking to no one in particular, and she was pleased when an envelope manifested barely a minute after. Nobody wanted to loose his tongue, or in this case, hands.

“Come up here, with the tongue”

Aubrey was lying on the floor, his body spamming, and blood gushing out from his mouth.

She opened the envelope, “Drop it in here”

“Now someone should write me a letter to the Duchess of Northumberland. Inform her of her husband’s unfortunate...situation. And as you deliver the message, arrest them. They shall die at dawn, treason I believe, is punished by death”

The court had fallen silent, expect from the Bleeding Nobleman that was making unfathomable sounds, his red life essence soaking the carpets.

None of the nobles moved, each afraid of making a wrong move that would cause any part of their bodies delivered to a family member.

“Sit down gentlemen” and like meek cows they did.

“We have not much to discuss. My father is dead, and I am here to take my rightful place as Queen, does anyone object to that? Good. That is all. The coronation shall hold tomorrow; someone should inform the archbishop to be prepared.”

Mary stood, and walked down tills she stood in front of the bleeding Duke.

The man looked at her, his eyes bloody, his expression contorted with hate, desperation, pain and death.

He held his tongue, trying to speak.

“You shall have to speak louder Aubrey; you are unintelligible”

He kept trying, blood gurgling from his mouth, till he choked. On his own blood. Mary turned to the men that were looking at her in a mixture of morbid horror and morbid fascination. But deep in the folds of their eyes, Mary could see fear and respect.

“I hope this serves as an example to you. No one disrespects the Queen and lives. Good day Gentlemen.”

***

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