The King's Poison

I.

"Move!!

"MAKE WAY!" Make way!!!"

The loud jeers of the guards triggered the crowds to separate, creating a path down the middle so they could walk by.

Every peasant and dignitary alike were itching to catch a glimpse of the mysterious woman who had been summoned to death by the verdict of the highest court.
It was the most ferocious form of death: beheading by guillotiné.

The people of the kingdom gathered around the packed arena, observing the tall wooden guillotiné that had been erected over night. A thick fog filled the air as we waited for the any signal of the king. It was a bright and humid morning, the hot rays of the sun beaming against the earth.

The people pushed and shoved, but I nudge them away, tiptoeing to see the unfamiliar scene before me. Everyone was desperate to watch it unfold.

I had left Catherine behind to make my way to the front. I was curious to catch a glimpse of the woman who had softened the king's heart.

And in an moment I saw her.
She was beauty, with cheeks as sharp as thorns and hair as dark as midnight. Her skin was a rich brown..it was defiantly radiant, almost as pure as a fresh cracked seed.
Her importance evident.

I was only 14 when the queen first came to power. They people of Eragonia called her the Queen of all a Queens.
She was the King's delicate flower; soft and vibrant as a bloomed rose.

The people said she was the Rose without the thorns and I understood why.

One would expect a woman on the brink of death to be fearful, shaking with trepidation but she looked calm... amused almost? As if this assembly was a disservice to the people for wasting our time.
It's not like we had anything better to do.

They two guards had forced her on her knees into the center of the wooden guillotiné, locking her head into position.

The king finally arrived and sat high and mighty in his throne chair, looking at the crowds before turning to his wife. They shared a heated glance that was weighty but exposed all I needed to know about the pair.

He stood from his throne chair, lifting a palm to silence the crowds before sitting back again.

His trusty chief minister, Thomas Cromwell stood by his side with a smug smile that was painted across his face.

For months, her trial had been ongoing but she was blameless in every right. The court of England was on her side and found no wrongdoing but it did not matter to the bitter king. Despite unconvincing evidence, she was sentenced to death, shackled and treat like a commoner. The king was relentless and would so anything to have her dead.

Whatever unexplainable sin she committed against him was unbeknownst to the people.

"You all know why he have gathered here today" Cromwell's voice silenced the hushed murmurs of the crowds. Anne Boleyn of Norfolk has been found guilty of adultery, incest and the highest treason"

Some people in the crowds booed at Cromwell's words while others cried. She was a valiant queen.

Cordial to all and strong in demand. She treated everyone with the most rudimentary regards. For her to be found guilty of these accusations were just propsrerous.

"Any final words Anne?" Cromwell announced, failing to adress her by her proper title. You could hear the anger saturated against his voice.

She was silent, looking off into the distance towards the serene plains of the countryside. Only a soft tear dripped from her face but she remained silent.

The king stood, staring at the executioner before nodding his head. The two guards at either side of the guillotiné tightened their grip around the rope. The sharp edge of the blade dangled in the air.

She refused to look up. Her eyes were focused on the pastures of the distance; as if she was at ease with meeting her maker.

And before the blade fell she stopped and lifted her head to speak.

"The king has been good to me.
He promoted me from a simple maid to a marchioness. Then he raised me to be a queen.
Now he will raise me to be a martyr."

The hushed whispers of the crowds soon grew into anger than protest. Everyone knew the queen was blameless. It was the hatred of the king that had cursed her to this inescapable fate.

The king stood in fury, anger furrowing his brows as he heard the protests of the crowds

"Do It! NOW!" He jeered and with one final drop of the executioner's sword, the blade was dropped.

WHOOSH!

The sound of the sharp blade cutting into human flesh sounded throughout the quiet atmosphere.

The queen's blood splattered across the wooden beams, dripping down the cracks of the floorboards before painting the ground red. Her head rolled onto the ground, gently tumbling until it stopped in front of the feet of the king.

And for the first time I saw fear in the king's eyes.

He did not cry or mourn.
He only stood from the chair and turned away, retreating to the castle to face his demons.

———

Author Note:

Hi readers! This is the original chapter one of the book!
Eveything after this will be slightly altered (the king's name will be Henry!)

I have a story about Anne Boleyn that I just published (A king's posion is NOT about Queen Boleyn! It is about Anna! I just changed it because I needed a reason for the king to be hated so much!

Hope it's not too confusing but even if it is...welcome to the dysfunction which I call my life 🥰🥰