You weren't going to be a Queen who just sits around and knits and takes orders from her husband. You were strong and independent. You were also remarkable at fighting. He thought this to be a joke, a test, but then realized only one of you will walk out that door alive. He was at your feet now, hand together in fists. His sword was far away.
He looked into your eyes and muttered, "I loved you. Please don't do this to me."
In those now dark green eyes of his, you saw nothing. No remorse, no love, no feelings. All you saw was emptiness. You laughed.
"Not as much as you love power."
You lowered your sword, slowly walked up to him. You felt nothing for him.
"A Queen has responsibilities."
One swipe with your glistening silver sword and Charles, the King of France, was dead. You put your sword on your back, and stunted out the door, not even bothering to see if anyone saw you coming from the King's chambers with his corpse on the floor in a pool of deep, red blood. You had just become not only the Queen of Scotland but the Queen of France.
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I Told The Stars About You...
Romantizm-she falls in love with a king who chose power over her love. in the end, she gets revenge -short story
