Festina Lente

Chapter Forty: Mary, Queen of France

25th of June 1533 - Westhorpe Hall

The early morning sunlight streamed into her bed chambers, waking the former Queen of France from her sleep; a hand slowly creeping up to the space next to her in search of her husband only to find the bed as empty as when she had entered it. 

A frown forming on her face disappointed that Charles was not at her side, she missed the mornings from the early days of their marriage when she would often wake with him at her side. 

They had been happier days and Mary could not help but think about how distant her husband had been as of late, she was not foolish enough to ignore the fact that he had taken a mistress. 

Her husband could love any woman for a time but like her brother, he did not have it in him to remain faithful; she doubted it would be long before Henry's attention was caught by a pretty face. 

Already she heard whispers that he bedded Queen Anne's ladies like he had done with Katherine's, more so when his wife was with child and unable to meet his needs while her belly was doing the business. 

Her body ached as she slowly climbed from her bed, her feet meeting the cold floor before she padded across the room to her vanity in search of a drink. 

She felt parched and there was a tickle in her throat that she could not shake, her hands shakily reaching for the jug that lay on her vanity; her eyes catching on the letter that she had penned for Queen Anne. 

Despite the fact that she held no great love for the woman, it would not do to continue to argue with her when there was nothing that could be done to change the past nor could they forget what Katherine had done. 

The jug was light and a soft cry fell from her lips as she realised that it was empty, she set it down and slowly started towards the door of her bed chambers. 

She felt like there was a weight around her neck that only got heavier with each step that she took towards the door; her hands shakily resting on the door frame when she finally reached it and she struggled to pull the heavy door open. 

Leaning almost fully on the door frame as she pulled the door, Mary gasped for breath as she tried to catch her breath and nothing seemed to ease the aching of her body. 

With each breath that she took, it felt like tiny needles were being poked into her chest and like no matter how deep a breath she took that each breath left her breathless.

A cough erupted from her, the action rocking her entire body and leaving her struggling to catch her next breath; she left like she was choking and stumbled into the hallway, her eyes almost unseeing from the tears that filled them. 

The terrified scream from one of the maids that had been coming to tend to her filled the hallway and she staggered towards the sound; her mouth forming pleas for someone to help her. 

Stepping out of her room to see why one of the maids had screamed, Lady Frances Brandon came to a complete stop at the sight of her treasured mother; her formally white night gown now covered in blood. 

She could only watch in stunned horror for a moment as Mary took another couple of shuffling steps forward before, she collapsed on the floor; a horrible gasping-choking sound escaping Mary as she hit the floor. 

Blood seeming to pour from her mouth as she choked trying to clear her throat, her eyes unseeing as she looked ahead into the hallway. 

"Mother?" Frances cried hurrying forward, her ladies lingering behind and she could hear her sister coming up behind her as they rushed to their fallen mother; her body convulsing almost when Frances reached her.