Mary
She was called to court less than a week after Elizabeth’s victory. After Asha and Caterina’s departure, the two additional thrones had been removed and Elizabeth sat alone. Behind her throne, though, her heretic priest hovered.
Mary fell into a deep curtsey on the steps of the dais. “Your Grace,” she said, her head bowed, her voice full of surrender. Stay alive, her mother’s voice told her, no matter the costs.
Ishmael stepped forwards. “Lady Mary, you have come here today to pledge your fealty to the rightful Queen, Queen Elizabeth, and thereby denouncing your own claims to the throne and accepting your brother, Raynor, as a bastard and a threat to the throne.”
It pained her how easily those words slipped past her lips. “I do so pledge,” she said, her eyes on the ground.
“Then rise, a loyal subject to the rightful Queen.”
She rose and looked upon the Queen. She smiled and stood up. “I would greet you as a cousin, truly - if not by blood, then at least by marriage,” she said and walked down the stairs to kiss Mary on both her cheeks. The court cheered their satisfaction.
Mary bowed her head. “Your Grace, I am humbled by your kindness.”
“Don’t be,” Elizabeth said.
Mary dared to meet her eyes. “What of my sister?”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows drew together. “I fear Helena did not have the same sense as you. She denied my claim to the throne before the court, and so I had no choice.”
Mary’s eyes widened. “No choice?”
“She is in the dungeons,” Elizabeth explained. “I do apologize, but treason is a crime I must take very seriously - especially now.”
“Treason?” Mary exclaimed, a little too loudly. “She is nothing but a girl! What danger can she be to your rule?”
“She is a woman,” Elizabeth said. “Nevertheless, she will be given time to think this over. However, if she does not pledge fealty within due time…”
“Due time?” Mary backed away from her. “What does that mean?”
“It means that if your sister persists in denying me as her rightful Queen, I will have to treat her as any traitor will be.”
Mary glared at her. “You mean to execute her? For what? For not being able to deny her mother’s right?”
Elizabeth sighed. “Might I remind you that you - her younger sister - was perfectly able to see clearly what the options are. I have treated her with great respect and care, but I cannot let a traitor live. Now,” she continued before Mary could speak, “I would recommend that you leave before you make a fool of yourself.”
Mary bit back her tears and curtseyed. “Your Grace.”
She left the throne room with hurried steps, wasting not a second in getting out of that room with all its eyes and judgments. She was surprised to find that someone had followed her.
“My lady!” Philip Blythall called out behind her.
She turned around and curtseyed. “My lord.”
“I wanted to tell you that I am glad you made this decision,” he said. “Though it is beneath you to be only a lady, as you are now, seeing you dead would truly be a tragedy.”
She bowed her head. “You are very kind, my lord.”
He seemed to be searching for something to say. “How are you?” he asked.
"Well, my lord,” she said and began walking, gesturing for him to join her. “I’ve not had the time to become truly sad yet. I just feel frightened all the time.”
He nodded. “It is understandable.”
“With my mother and my sister gone - all of my family…” She trailed off. “I don’t feel ready to take care of myself. There’s no one to protect me.”
“That’s not true.” They looked at each other. “Someone will protect you,” he said.
“Thank you, Philip, for your kind words,” she said. “Do you know anything of my brother?”
“I know that he is alive,” he said. “Everyone assumes that he will go to Lionhall to seek refuge with his cousins.”
She let out a sigh. “I am so happy to hear that he’s alive. What will Elizabeth do, do you think?”
Philip leaned down a little. “Call her the Queen, if only for appearances. That will keep you alive a little longer.” When she nodded, he continued, “It is rumored that she will try to make a treaty of peace. My father says that she will most likely want the war over. This, of course, will depend very much on you and your brother’s cooperation, especially in the wake of your mother’s suicide and your sister’s refusal to pledge fealty.”
Mary nodded. “Of course. Is it possible for me to see my sister? Perhaps I can persuade her to rethink her actions.”
He stopped walking and Mary saw why; at the end of the hallway, another couple had stopped and were watching them. Philip bowed and Mary took his cue to curtsey when they passed by. For a moment, they both stayed very still.
“I’ll see what I can do for you,” he said once they were alone again. “My lady, please stay safe.”
She smiled. “Thank you, my lord.” She curtseyed and watched him leave.
The next morning, he visited her again. “Her Grace, the Queen, has granted you a visit with your sister today,” he said.
She did her best to compose herself. The most curious of things made her cry these days, no matter if they were good or bad. “I am in your debt, my lord.”
He bowed his head. “The Queen also asked me inform you that your mother’s body as well as the statue raised for her will be shown for the people tomorrow morning so that they may mourn her properly. If you wish, you are allowed presence.”
Mary nodded. “Tell Her Grace that I am grateful - no, humbled - by her kindness.”
He bowed. “My lady.”
Some hours after Philip had left, two guards came to get her. They led her through the castle down a flight of dark stairs to the dungeons. Mary had never been to that part of the castle, but she knew that it was not a place her mother had ever wished of her to see. Now she knew why.
They were dark, except for the flickering light of the torches. Most of those were burned out, so that made for very little light. There were no guards stationed inside; they stood at the top of the stairs, where there was still sunlight. In the very lowest part of the castle, water dripped from the ceiling and coated the walls in dampness. She could hear rats shuffling about, making their telltale noises, but she never saw them.
Helena was in the first cell to the right. It was built with solid stone walls to all sides, except for the door, which was merely a grid. There were no torches in there, only the light from a slim, barred window that offered a view to the outside. Mary guessed it was the great plaza in front of the main entrance to the castle.
"Sister?” she asked.
The guards stepped back. “We’ll be upstairs.”
She nodded and walked closer to the door. “Helena?”
“Mary?”
From the corner of the cell, she stepped forth. She still wore the mourning clothes that she had been wearing when she went to court to pledge fealty - which, apparently, she had not.
Mary nodded. “It is me.”
It was obvious that Helena had been crying. Her breathing was still ragged and unsteady. “So, you pledged yourself,” she noted, her voice flat.
“What else was I to do?”
Helena huffed. “Stay true to your family, of course.”
Mary frowned. “I am staying true to my family. Don’t you remember what Mother said? She told us to stay alive.”
Helena shook her head, not as much in denial as in hopelessness. “It’s all over, anyhow.”
Mary walked closer to the bars. “What do you mean? Of course it’s not over. We just have to stay alive until Evelyn comes and gets us.”
“Us?” Tears began falling from Helena’s eyes. “Do you think she’ll come for us? No, she’ll come for a throne and for you. Not for me.”
“What are you talking about?”
She let out a laughter. “Do you not see it? Are you so blinded already? You, who used to be like me?” She walked to the bars so that Mary was able to see her eyes, red-brimmed from the tears she had cried. “There has alway been a division in this family between the fortunate and the less fortunate.”
Mary furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me you have not seen it. When we were young, there were always Evelyn and Christian - the beautiful Princess and the future King. They were pride of our family. And then there was Raynor, the rebel, but a son nonetheless. We were always left behind.” She drew in a shaky breath. “And then you came of age.”
“Helena,” Mary whispered, reaching between the bars. She flinched away as though Mary’s hand bore a disease.
“You turned out beautiful and loved. You may not be as… interesting as Evelyn, but then again, the fewest are.” Helena closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. “Then you stopped seeing me, or anyone. You retreated from court and ignored us all. When you returned, su-suddenly you were with them, in their little group of future greatness.” She sobbed uncontrollably and had to compose herself before continuing. “I am not - I haven’t what it takes.”
“Helena.” Mary reached in between the bars as far as she could. “Helena, come here.”
Helena stood for a moment, considering, but then she could not resist it anymore. She stumbled to the door and let Mary draw her as close as she could with the bars still separating them. She cried and cried until there were no more tears.
“Helena, please,” Mary muttered after she had been quiet for some time. “You have to pledge fealty. You know that Elizabeth can’t let you live.”
“And I thought she was the Queen and could do anything she wanted,” Helena muttered.
Mary tilted her head. “No one - not even the ruler - can do as they like without consequences.”
Helena nodded and wetted her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I can’t do it. I can’t abandon my family. It’s strange, because I never felt part of it.”
Mary took her hand and clenched it. “Perhaps that’s why you’re reluctant to let go of it.”
Helena nodded. “Perhaps. But I can’t. I will not.”
“And what if Elizabeth sentences you to death?”
She shrugged. “Then I’ll die the sort of death that poets write about.”
Mary could not help but smile a little. “I shall commission a work for you.”
“Thank you,” Helena said and smiled back. “Now go. I hope that you will be happy.”
Mary spent the rest of her day in her chambers, alternating between reading, crying and sleeping uneasy and nightmarish sleep. By the time night came, she was both tired and rested and ended up lying in bed, unsure what to do, drifting in and out of sleep.
It was in one of those instances that she heard it. Someone breathing, in the corner of her room. She felt Bertram at her feet and knew it was not him, and yet she was unable to move her head to see who it was. In fact, she was unable to move her body. And yet, she knew whoever it was had to be evil. She suspected him to be one of them. When she tried to scream, nothing but a small whimper escaped her. Her feet seemed nailed to the mattress and she could not sit up. The more she fought, the more she got the sense that someone had sat upon her chest. Breathing was so hard. She heard someone approach her, the steps coming closer…
Suddenly she was sitting up, screaming as loud as she could. She turned her head in all direction, but nowhere anything was to be seen.
“Help!” she shouted.
Bertram was only then awakening. Surely, if there had been anyone he would’ve awakened. He would’ve barked. Was it a dream? She shook her head. It could not have been, for she had been in that exact position. Everything had looked the way it did now. It was as though she had been under the influence of that same drug that had been used that night, rendering her unable to move, unable to defend herself, unable to scream for help…
“My lady?” a guard asked. “Is anything the matter?”
She controlled her crying. “Can you search my room? I thought I heard something.”
He went through it thoroughly enough. “I don’t see anything.”
She swallowed deeply. “It must have been a nightmare, then. It was just so… so very vivid.”
The guard hesitated. “My lady, if you wish it, I can keep guard from just outside the door. If it please.”
She nodded. “That would bring me a lot of peace. Thank you.”
He bowed. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, thank you.”
“Might I say something, if it is not too much of a disturbance?”
“Of course.”
“I just wanted to tell you that I do not believe for a moment the things that are being said about your mother,” he said. “That man must have been bribed to tell lies. Queen Adrianne was honorable, a true Queen.”
She smiled. “What is your name?”
“William, my lady.”
“Thank you, William. Your words are a great consolation.”
He bowed and left her room. As soon as he had left, she got the feeling of someone watching her, so she walked around and lit every candle. When sleep still would not come, she read until her eyes dropped closed of their own accord.
When she was woken the next morning, she was far from rested. Her eyes itched for the need of more consistent sleep, but her handmaidens reminded her that she would regret it if she did not get out of bed. She dressed in black, as she was still in mourning, and wore a dark veil to cover for any tears that might fall.
She was led to the main doors of the castle. She could hear the sound of people on the other side. There had to be at least two hundred for the sound of their whispers to reach into the castle.
Then arrived her mother’s body. She had been laid in a stone coffin with the lid off. Six men carried it between them. Her mother wore her blue dress, the one she loved so much, and her beautiful hair had been let loose. It flowed around her, reaching as far down as her hips. White flowers had been placed around her body, and one in each of her upturned hands. Her eyes were closed, as though she was just asleep, and her skin was covered in powder that made her already pale skin seem like marble. Mary dared not touch her.
To her surprise, Nicholas appeared. “My lady,” he said and bowed deeply.
“My lord,” she replied, frowning.
“Elizabeth sent me,” he explained. “I’m trying to win her favor, you see.”
Mary nodded. “Why?”
“She wants to explain,” he said. “You are only to walk out there and show your grief to the people as the daughter of the diseased. Since you’ll be alone, she wanted to give you her support.”
“Give her my thanks.”
He nodded, but did not leave. “Your sister. Is it true that she went west?”
Mary nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I cared for her,” he said, simply.
"You’re a man, of course you cared for her.”
He smiled wryly. “I’ll give the Queen your thanks.”
Shortly thereafter, the doors opened. Her mother’s coffin was carried out into the bright light of the plaza. For a moment, Mary was blinded and it seemed her mother’s body had truly passed into a different world. Then she followed suit.
She found that her calculation had been wrong - there were more than two hundred people in the square below. They were crammed together. Everywhere there was a place, a person had filled it. Children sat on their parents’ shoulders. There were even some young boys who had chosen to sit on the rooftops. Mary’s heart swelled with this evidence of love, so much that a few tears escaped.
She stopped beside her mother and looked down at her. She did not know what to say or think or do, so she just walked further onto the plaza.
A man at the very front stepped forwards. “Princess Mary!” he shouted, before pressing the tip of his finger to his chest and drawing a circle. The symbol of the Sun, of time passing, of all things moving, forever changing…
Touched, she moved her own finger to her chest and formed the same circle. It was meant as a kindness, as a show of appreciation, but that was exaggerated.
The man fell to his knees, as though he were worshipping her. The people around him did the same, and soon it was spreading. Men, women and children alike fell to their knees like dominos. They all pressed their finger to their chest and drew a circle.
She looked up to find Elizabeth whispering something to her priest. She did not look pleased. But when Mary looked back at the people - her mother’s people indeed, the people that had loved her so much - she did not care. She wanted to share her grief with them, and for them to share their grief with her, and so she fell to her knees and pressed her hand to her chest.
Life was circular. She had never believed it more than in that moment, when she felt herself move a little further towards the happiness that had been robbed from her.