The Pearl Of Great Price

Chapter 10: Rise

The new day dawned, making Mary not want to start the day out with the broken remains of yesterday. She did not want to think about what had happened, but sometimes it's just so hard not to. Despite still feeling the sting of rejection from her father, the Duchess did her best to not let it defeat her. Now is the time to pick herself up and move on after crying her heart out with Charles last night. Her father may have removed her eligibility for being Queen, but the crown on her soul is more worthy.

Besides, as Mary had lain there last night, with both head and heart aching, she noticed Charles's loving eyes and concern for her well-being. It prompted her to say, "I feel sorry for my father. Truly I do. The man has caused me so much pain, but I reason that he must have a lot of pain inside himself to treat me as he does. He must have. Surely he's not this cruel?"

Laying on his back, Charles held her head to his chest, running his fingers through her brown locks. He wasn't sure how to address that question. It's very weighty. On the one hand, breaking his wife's hope that her father isn't a monster is not something Charles cares to do. Because if a person wants something to be true badly enough, all it takes is a quick rewrite. Mary hasn't seen the King in years, unlike himself. She might believe if the Duke told her he still cared for his daughter. But Charles also can't lie to her either with some sense of false expectancy.

So, he settled on, "Darling, I don't know. Your father is erratic at best, selfish at worst."

The King is confused. That much is clear. His thoughts are more twisted than George Boleyn's devious personality. When the Duke said those words, Mary agreed. So instead of wishing her father pain, like he's caused her, she desires his healing. That's what he needs, healing and complete restoration of health.

Just because her father does not see her worth isn't cause for unworthiness. This has been hard for Mary to understand. It's a source of contention in her spirit. The Duchess likens it to a groundskeeper, particularly those who scale the high walls to clean the stonework's outside facade. The cleaner wants everyone to think he's skilled and his work is an art, but the man is only holding on for dear life, trying not to fall to his death. That's how it is for Mary--- putting on a brave face, trying to hold it together while feeling like one wrong move would bring about her demise.

The head always seems to move quicker than the heart, which drags its feet in the sand. But the heart does whatever it wants. It can't be told who to love or when to stop, any more than she can stop hoping her father will come to his senses one day. This hope is challenging because

Mary knows she shouldn't waste time on things that might one day or may never happen at all. Even the wolves understand when to stop looking for what they've lost. That's their instinct which is not hers.

So today, she fights on and won't give up on her father, the King, just yet. Especially with Charles by her side, quitting on His Majesty is not an option Mary cares to entertain. But every day, it gets harder and harder to not keep it company. That's where balance comes in--- between the heart and the head. And with that, the Duchess needs a chapter break filled with romantic poetry, adventurous knights, or dashingly wicked dukes. Mary smiled at the thought of sinfully handsome dukes like hers.

Trying to get out of bed as quietly as possible, she turned to roll over. But Charles threw an arm over her waist, keeping her locked firmly in his grasp. The Duchess huffed silently and tried to maneuver free again by gently wiggling down from his arm. Then a muscular leg was draped over both of hers, making Her Grace believe that either he was asleep and had no idea what he was doing or he was awake and fully cognizant.

"Stop moving and go back to sleep," the Duke's groggy voice told her.

Smiling, Mary turned over to face him. Her eyes beheld the man while her fingers danced over his skin, noticing the little bit of scruff on his face and needing a shave. However, truth be told, she loves the scruff. It tickles her skin, but it's so manly looking, and Charles is ALL man. His eyes opened and caught her own.