[ And that is something, perhaps. She just stares down at the ring again, before slowly sliding it onto the finger of her injured hand, testing one or two before it fits properly. It's a might heavy for a ring, but then it is bejeweled. Her daughter had the most fanciful tastes, ones that had even outgrown her mother. But they had started somewhere, hadn't they? She said Anne inspired her.
But still, it is too much for her to think about at once. How she died, why she died. She thinks of Mary immediately, and assassins. Then she thinks of illness, and of her king. Did Henry remember her? Oh God, Elizabeth said she had a brother. That he died by fifteen, but Anne had assumed it had been hers. No. Another woman's... He had remarried, he must have. Of course he would have.
Still rubbing at her belly, nails scraping even harder now while she hunches over, she thinks of the pregnancy the castle made her abandon. There is no end to her thoughts. One to another, and then another, and then it's all she can do to keep from losing the supper she only just consumed. Now she feels the urge to give in and weep, but dare not in front of him. Never again, not after the humiliation he bestowed upon her in the gardens. ]
She suffered because I was not there, and his Majesty's affection for Mary was too great. That bastard wench, no doubt she seized her opportunity the moment I was gone. They dare call me a witch, but she was the one to be-spell, I know it. My poor Elizabeth... Oh, my father. My brother. What did she do to my family? I must find out.
1/2
But still, it is too much for her to think about at once. How she died, why she died. She thinks of Mary immediately, and assassins. Then she thinks of illness, and of her king. Did Henry remember her? Oh God, Elizabeth said she had a brother. That he died by fifteen, but Anne had assumed it had been hers. No. Another woman's... He had remarried, he must have. Of course he would have.
Still rubbing at her belly, nails scraping even harder now while she hunches over, she thinks of the pregnancy the castle made her abandon. There is no end to her thoughts. One to another, and then another, and then it's all she can do to keep from losing the supper she only just consumed. Now she feels the urge to give in and weep, but dare not in front of him. Never again, not after the humiliation he bestowed upon her in the gardens. ]
She suffered because I was not there, and his Majesty's affection for Mary was too great. That bastard wench, no doubt she seized her opportunity the moment I was gone. They dare call me a witch, but she was the one to be-spell, I know it. My poor Elizabeth... Oh, my father. My brother. What did she do to my family? I must find out.