I Am Not A Queen - Reign

Chapter One - Madeline

1557, Scottish Convent
Today is my 18th birthday. I have been here, at Scottish Convent for as long as I can remember.
Sister Marie enters the room. I would expect her to tell me to hurry my butt up, or that I would be late to prayer. Instead she hands me a letter and walks out. I have never recieved a letter. Am I supposed to open it now or after morning prayer? I wonder. I decide to open it now.
I look at the envelope. It is adressed to Madeline Stuart. So that's my last name! I think to myself. The loopy handwriting is somewhat hard to read. As I continue searching to envelope, I turn it to the back. The back has writing as well.
There written was:

Not to be opened until her 18th birthday.

Curious about the contents of the mysterious envelope, I rip it open excitedly. When I pull out the folded paper, I hold it with such elegance. It's fine paper, I notice. I continue to unfold the paper, eventually rubbing my fingers against the nice, black handwriting .
It reads:

My dear daughter,
I am Marie de Guise, your mother. Your father, however, was not the King. You are at the Covent for my protection, as I have committed treason, your protection, and most importantly, Mary's protection. Before I move on let me make one thing clear, you hold no claim to her throne, you are illegitimate.
As I am sure you are well aware, Mary is your Queen. She is also however your half-sister. You are older by two years. Mary is at a French Convent as we speak. Mary will eventually move back to French Court, to marry Francis, the Dauphin of France. It is merely a political alliance.
Before you were sent to convent, on your 4th birthday, you and Mary had become close. I spent the next four years ensuring she forgot you, and she has. I may even dare say you forgot her as well.
As you are 18, and I cannot stop you from leaving the Convent, I want to make myself clear. You are not to have contact with Mary. She will be leaving for French court soon surely, and will continue her life as the Queen of two nations. You are not to get in the way.
My love,
Marie de Guise.

I stand here, dumbfounded. I am at a loss for words. The Queen, the Queen of Scotland, i-is my sister. I cannot believe it.
Then anger begins to bubble deep inside of me, a strong look of hatred upon my face. It is first directed at my mother, for keeping Mary away from me. She is my sister!

I'm going to leave the convent. I am going to meet Mary.