All You Wanna Do ➳Catherine Howard x oc

ᥴꫝꪖρꪻꫀ᥅ ᒿ

Pristine Walls

The galleon (that Sila was on) just left the quay.
She sat in a elfin type of cabin.
It was good enough for her itinerary.
The galleon shifted from side to side in a rhythmic patter.
It assisted Sila as she wrote about ceaseless and haphazard things.
To her aunt and uncle.
About meager things.
It was early morn when the girl left; now late afternoon.
Most of her time, was spent at the davenport of the cabin.
But other times were depleted at reading, and studies.
The davenport was in front of a two lite casement window.
The girl was looking out the window at the gumusservi of the night.
Then the girl was gyrating around the cabin, mumbling the some book named 'Canterbury Tales' in her hand to herself.
Anyhow, now she was plummeting off the bed. At this very moment, she was depositing everything in its place(she wasn't at England, yet of course; she was just always prepared.
But now she was leaving the wharf.
She was a puny bit nervous.
She has heard a lot about the Tudors.
Good and bad.
But predominantly bad.
Sila's aunt informed her that a caravan would be waiting for her.
That's what Sila was thinking.
As she glimpsed around the English berth,
a caravan appeared out of literally nowhere.
At least, that's what Sila decided on.
So there she went to her doom.
Sila was dramatic at times.
Anyhow, the driver plummeted down onto the stone ground, and unfurled the door of the caravan for the girl.
Sila nodded her head as a 'thank you'.
She scaled the door and writhed across the seat of the caravan.
The door behind her, gently and clemently closed.
Sila situated herself on the damask seat.
So now the girl had nothing to do for two hours.
"Grand. Just grand," Sila thought to herself, satirically.
So she glared out the satin window.
Not like she had anything more superior to be doing.
Her pen and parchment was in her valise.
And her valise was in the back of the caravan.
"This is going to be hilarity!" Akin to what Sila's aunt, Adelita, said: if she said every sardonic boffola would it be a holocaust after it all occurred.

•••

The caravan could not be plodding any more obtuse.
But now the palace was in site, so it was coming along.
Sila could see the people on the courtyard, scattering about; trying to find their places.
The caravan was inching across the terrain of rural verdant to the palace.
As all this was happening, Sila begun to think about the king, and his prestige.
Many of his wives, were ladies-in-waiting and maids of honor.
She was going to prey not to be the sixth.
The caravan went along the dirt path,
Then the caravan thrashed into a bulge in the ground.
But the caravan did not carry on. It stayed.
Then a puny bit of jiggling with the door of the caravan, and unfurled to a whole new world.
Not the actual New World they "discovered" a while back.
Anyways, the girl treaded down onto the clay coloured ground.
There weren't a great many people; not the utter Hampton Palace(for she was not of royal blood, but rather aristocratic blood).
The driver assisted the girl to the clay dirt.
Sila nodded to the driver as a 'thank you'.
Then her scrutiny went to the two persons that seemed salient.
They were certainly polar-opposites.
From their aura to their facades.

Sila could apprise by the crowns they wore atop of their tress, they were King Henry VIII and
Queen Catherine Howard.
Sila traipsed to the two.

"King Henry the Eighth. And Queen Catherine." She bowed.
"Welcome, Noblewoman Sila Araceil."
The queen kindly smiled to the new lady-in-waiting.
"Welcome. You serve King Charles." It wasn't an enquired. And he slightly gibed it.

"Well, talk about being blunt." The thought flashed and dashed via Slia's mind.

"Yes. I do." Sila tried to smile(it didn't look unerring. Instead it was looked eerie).
But anyways,

"Well, now thou succor to the English Court.
Not Spanish." The king told. It was seemed to Sila that it was meant to be menacing.
But to Sila it was more facile. Now she didn't have to prowl around, and find out how to get under English Court's skin.
She's gonna make these once pristine English walls marred.