'Sometimes we have to sacrifice our youths in order to let people live.'
Tulia Byrne has been a Queen for longer than she could remember. Her story begins so carefree and so full of love and yet by the end of it you'll be wondering if you even know...
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29th July 1567
I was crowned in Edinburgh Castle not even a week after I stepped foot in the country. I do not trust the Scots to obey me... but I trust them not to favour Elizabeth.
The crown barely touched my head before I decided the time was right for me to leave. It felt wrong, wearing Mary's crown, but it was something that had to be done. Returning the crown to her is not a decision that will make people happy, I pray that she forgives me if I am forced to give it to her son.
Four letters have been written and are on their way to their destinations. Wales, Ireland, France and the Vatican will receive their instructions no later than next month. This could be my greatest victory, or my greatest defeat.
7th October 1567, Europe
This day was not like the others. Nobody truly knew what was going to happen but the people could feel it in their bones that something was awry. The birds were no longer singing, the wind had calmed its howling and the clouds had protected the sun from viewing the events that were to occur.
Horses hooves slammed onto the hard, frost-bitten, ground of four different countries. The animals marched up and down their armies as each one was addressed with the same speech.
'You march in the name of your Queen. You die in the name of your lord. You win in the name of your country. Strength is not a part of your job, it is who you are, you will use it and you will fight. You are warriors."
Each variation of the speech given by the same Queen of a different face, and each was as rousing as the next. Moral was high in the war camps of Europe, more and more people were becoming convinced that fighting for the Irish Queen was the right thing to do.
Yesterday she was a Queen, Today she was a Symbol and the next, she prayed, she would be a conqueror.
Sophia, bastard of the great house of Habsburg led the Scottish troops with regent James Stuart by her side. None of the Scottish men needed much persuasion to take back what is rightfully there's. The north was always seen as a place of strength and rebellion in England. Pray for the people that fight the Scottish, all of whom have northern blood, the red cross has overshadowed their blue for too long.
Caoimhe Murphy and Catherine de 'Medici sat side by side on their horses, mounted on Tulia's flagship as they watched their troops descend onto the beaches of the North West of England. They sat tall as villages and towns were claimed, and they did not turn away when people were killed.
Gwendolyn Herbert commanded the Welsh troops along side Finnan O'Connor and her proud father, William Herbert. A father could never match the pride that the Earl of Pembroke had for his daughter on this day, seeing her conduct her speech and command an army only made him more sure that there was no power like the power of a woman.
