The Woman Behind The Crown

Chapter 7: "Stop telling yourself you deserve less"

Disclaimer: Apparently I need to add this might be 'Rated M'

I'll never know exactly how Francis did it, but I know it was his doing that Catherine ever acknowledged her feelings and finally agreed to discuss what had taken place between us. It took some time, mind, but finally I received a message that she wanted to speak with me that night. I admit I was more than a little apprehensive when I arrived at her chambers.

'I apologise, I know I've been avoiding you of late.' she greeted me.

'Catherine, there's really no need for you to apologise.'

'No, there is.'

She gestured for us to sit. We'd had many conversations sitting together on her chaise like this, but I'd never been more nervous than for this one.

'I needed time to think about recent events. I know our distance since has caused you pain and you must trust that that is the last thing I wanted, but there has been so much for me to consider.'

'I understand that, Catherine. Truly, I do. I know that you care about me, that our friendship is important to you, but my actions... they were never intended to cause you distress. If anything, they were meant to give clarity, not conflict.'

'Charity, I appreciate your words, but the truth is the conflict came from me, not you. Which serves to show your actions were not entirely unwelcome.'

She found it hard to meet my eyes at this revelation, I presume she carried a sense of shame for admitting this. Still, I breathed a sigh of relief.

'I'm just glad to know you don't hate me for it.'

'Oh, my dear,' she looked at me. 'Don't you know I could never hate you?'

'I do.' I reached for her hand. 'I know how much you suffered when I was poisoned and how hard you fought for me as a result. That could never have come from a place of hatred.'

She smiled as she squeezed my hand, before her face fell as she reminded herself what she had summoned me to say.

'But,' she continued, releasing her hand from mine and rising to her feet. 'That doesn't change the fact that nothing can happen between us. What we feel, to let it control us? I'm sorry, Charity, we just can't.'

I was disappointed, though I knew I had no right to be. I tried not to let it show. I stood-up, ready to slip back into the appropriate mind-frame for my duties.

'I understand, Your Grace. If that's what you want, I'll respect your wishes.'

'Oh Charity, please don't use my title like that.' Catherine, turning to me, now looked as disappointed as I felt.

'None of this is what I want. As Queen, the choices I make rarely bear any resemblance to what I want. They have little to do with my own happiness. It's why so many Kings and Queens struggle to live harmoniously, so few of them actually bear any true fondness for each other. Even those who do in their early years normally have it beaten out of them, not only because of the pressure of the job, but because no King in history has gone without taking a mistress. As a wife that hardens and destroys the soul, yet as Queen we're expected to grit our teeth and bear it.'

She paced as she spoke, coming to a stop by the window. It seemed to add a physical separation to our conversation, as though she spoke to me through it, rather than from within the same stone walls.

'By the time you strip all that away, you're left with a hard shell, almost devoid of all emotion. You don't dare risk any cracks, because your enemies can spot it a mile away and they will tear you to shreds.