The bastard daughter of the King of Scotland has been lifted from her protection after the King dies and can no longer protect her and her mother with a fake noble title to keep them from danger. The queen mother will do anything to stop Ruth (the b...
In all the 23 years of living in this cruel world I had never seen something so beautiful. Until that morning I saw the mums blooming at the bottom of my window. It was Gods creation. All of it was. Since birth Catholicism has been my religion. The only religion fit for a noble. If you were any other religion in Scotland, you were deemed unfit to live. Death was your only option. The clans of the lands were at war and the only beautiful thing that was left was the mums.
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A simple flower was such a beauty to see in times like this. A flower that could still thrive on the overworked soil of Scotland. As I stared so intensely at the far away ground, at the bottom of my window, my mother had snuck in my room. Like stealth, she creeped in slowly not making a single sound. Impressive as it was, I find myself looking back at the moment as a time of fear. She slowly began to step towards me with my back turned. If only the tapping of her heels would've stayed quiet, she could've made it to me without a single notice. I turned my head sharply to the door where my mother stood...frozen. Like she had been caught in a deed and believed herself to be invisible. My body stayed in the same spot but my head was no longer turned to the window, it was stuck on my mothers stiff figure. "Mama?" I asked, hiding my questionable tone as if I expected her to be there at this time in the morning. She received my words like I had just asked something unbelievable, when all I said was her name. I finally became frightened and turned my body to her and pushed myself to remember to speak. "Mama, are you alright?" I asked this time not caring if I had a tone or not. Yet again she made a face but it was not a face of question, it was a face of sadness. A salty, wet, tear made a trail down her cheek and hung on her chin. I began to quickly walk toward her with a pace similar to a sprint. I grabbed her hand and cupped it in both my hands, pulling it to my chest. My mother gave me an empty look and right away snatched her hand out of mine. It was like she went from sadness to hate in an instant. I decided to not speak any more words, and stood in silence. Although it was silent around us, it was loud and obnoxious in my head. I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears like they had been stung by bees and began to throb. My mother finally stood up straight and straightened her face. It had no emotion, just a distant stare that found its way to my soul. She took her hand and laid it on my warm cheek. I was terrified. But then my mother opened her mouth and said 4 horrific words... "Long live the king." She slowly took her hand off my face with a smile, and began to walk off. Out the door. Leaving me there to think about those 4 words. Long live the king, long live the king, long live the king. I played the words over and over in my head. I don't know why I did because at the exact moment my frail little mother said it...I knew exactly what it meant. This meant that my secret was out. It was no longer a secret, and I was no longer safe. You may want to know what my secret was. Well I can tell you now since it's been out since the day the King passed from food poisoning. 5 tasters and not one could save his damn life. Not one could save mine. The King was dead so my secret was dead and now I might as well be dead too...but I'm not. I am the Kings bastard. Yes, yes, my mother was his mistress and I was their mistake. And since their little mistake, me and my mother had hidden under the Kings wing. But since he died me and my mother have been running. It's been 2 years since I had a decent life. My father the King, was the only thing keeping me and my mother rich and safe. He was at least a good enough person to take care of his mistakes. He deemed my mother a noble to keep her above any gossip and to keep us from being on the streets. Two years ago, I said goodbye to silk dresses and a bed, and a permanent roof over my head. Me and my mother have been running from assassins, thugs, and rapist since we left the comfort of my fathers protection. I need to find a way to dig us out of this hole that my mother and father started 23 years ago.
