The Traitor's Daughter

Chapter Thirty-One

***THIS CHAPTER HAS NOT BEEN EDITED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. :)***

Chapter Thirty-One

It was all Henry's fault.

He should have gotten to Elizabeth sooner. He shouldn't have left her in the first place. He should have been there to protect her from the king. He could have prevented this. He could have prevented everything.

Mary stood over Elizabeth's body, sobs wracking her body.

"She was supposed to live," she shrieked through her tears. "She was supposed to live."

Henry stood frozen in place, guilt filling his body.

He should have been there.

"Words cannot explain how sorry I am," Henry whispered, the words coming across as insincere. He truly couldn't say enough to show Mary how apologetic he was. He knew that this was all his fault.

Elizabeth laid in bed, her eyes were closed, her hair smoothed out around her face, as if she was simply asleep. Had it not been for the gray pallor of her skin, anyone could have believed that she was sleeping. If only she were just sleeping.

This is all my fault.

"Your Grace...Mary...I am so very sorry," Henry murmured, his eyes still on Elizabeth's face. "Please, you must know that I didn't intend for this to happen..." He trailed off, knowing that his words weren't making the situation better. His words couldn't bring Elizabeth back.

Grief tore through his body, leaving him feeling sick to his stomach. He had already thrown up his breakfast when he had heard that Elizabeth didn't survive the night, and he knew that if he were to eat again, he would get sick once more.

They had tried everything to save Elizabeth, but she had lost too much blood, and they hadn't gotten her to the physician soon enough. He had removed the dagger and had sown her up, but an infection had developed as well, which made recovery impossible for Elizabeth. It would have taken a miracle for her to live, and a miracle certainly didn't happen, as Elizabeth was dead and gone.

Henry kept telling himself that she was with her father, which he hoped would make him feel better, but it only made him feel worse.

She was supposed to be there with Mary. She was supposed to be there with him. They were supposed to live their lives together.

Mary suddenly turned and faced Henry, an accusing look on her face.

"This is your fault. You shouldn't have abandoned her when she needed you most. You were supposed to protect her. You were supposed to keep my little girl safe. Her blood will forever be on your hands."

Henry felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. He doubled over in pain and held his belly, in the hopes that it would relieve some of the pain.

"Please," he pleaded, although Mary had already turned her back on him. "Please, I am so sorry. If I could bring her back, I would. I would take her place...I would die if it would bring her back. Please, you have to understand." His voice sounded pathetic as he begged for Mary's forgiveness. The woman ignored his pleas and knelt by Elizabeth's side, her sobs echoing throughout the room.

This is all your fault. You did this. You killed her.

Henry fell to his knees and covered his ears with his hands, trying to make the voice in his head stop. The voice seemed to be echoing throughout the entire room, getting louder by the second, and he couldn't make it stop. He pressed his hands over his ears as hard as he could and hummed to himself to block out the voice, but it only grew louder, and his head felt as if it was going to burst.