Long May She Reign

Convent (Ep 1)

She kicked the ball gently towards one of the younger girls at the convent, football had been one of the less ladylike hobbies she had enjoyed in his time here.

Here she did not need to be Queen of Scotland, betrothed to the Dauphin of France.

Here the proper behaviour she had left at Court was long gone.

Here all she needed to be was Owen Stuart, no different to any other person in the convent, just a dedicated girl to her faith and her birth country.

As dinner was called, Owen took his place at the table but before she could take a bite, she caught Sister Helen staring at her from down the table.

Sister Helen let out a cough, the blood in her mouth spluttering into her plate of oatmeal, quickly followed by her going face first into the meal, eyes rolling back.

A young girl screamed.

Before Owen could react, she was pulled away from the table by the head sister, "You need to leave this place immediately. You, Owen, were nearly poisoned, an assassination attempt."

Owen was shaken to his core, "By who? Who wants me dead Sister?"

"An English Protestant close to the bastard Shelby, no question about it Owen. We will find them and deal with them, have no doubts about that. They cannot afford for you to be named the successor of England."

"I did not know that poor Sister Helen... that she was..." Owen stared at her hands in shock.

Sister Abigail ushered him back into his room, "That she was responsible for tasting your food? Owen, ever since you left you're mother's teat, every meal served to you has to be tasted and checked for poison. You are the Queen of Scotland, no food will be served to you untested."

It only took a few minutes for Owen to gather her belongings into a satchel, then she was walking along the path leading out of the convent for the last time.

One young girl, the same one she had been playing with earlier, whispered to her friend, "He is so beautiful, look at her.'

"I am not ready," Owen turned to face Sister Abigail, "I cannot be ready."

"For what aren't you ready for? Leaving the safety of the convent or marrying the Dauphin of France?" Sister Abigail tried to soothe the nerves Owen was feeling.

Owen let out a nervous chuckle, "Is it foolish to say both? I truly hoped I'd get to return home to Scotland one last time before I was to be wed."

"Worry not Owen, your friends will be there, the friends from Scotland that you've known your entire life. It is safer for you to return to French Court for you are almost a woman and His Royal Highness is almost a man. It is time, dear," she embraced Owen one last time as the carriage approached the convent.

Owen took a deep breath, he was not ready.

"For Scotland, your people and your good faith you will marry young Acho. He will love you, for he must," Sister Abigail urged.

"I am not sure that matters, Sister," Owen sighed, she wanted only to be loved by her future husband.

"To you, Owen, it absolutely does," the sister smiled as another young girl tugged on Owen's dress.

"Owen..." She did not want to see him go.

"Dearest Rose," Owen ruffled her hair.

"Before you leave, please promise me you'll be careful. There are ghosts in the castle. They say hallways and corridors are full of them. They are tortured souls, like the girl who has a ruined face, she hides it like herself."

"Rose, I was at French Court before I came here, when I was a girl your age and I saw no ghosts, I will be alright," Owen promised her.

"But what if they saw you, Owen?" Rose asked, clutching her rosary close to her before handing it gently to Owen.

Owen was spooked by her question but did not have time to answer when a guard on horseback interrupted her.

"Your Grace, we must go," he announced.

Owen smiled towards the convent one last time before she entered the carriage, watching the land beside him begin to move by as she began his journey back to French Court.