FILLOS Elizabeth Tudor: Ancestry of Sorcery

Part 5

September 1542

Royal Hunting Lodge, Pyrgo Park

The hunt did not happen. Father was scheduled to leave the next day and he decided to honor his engagements. Regrettably, that day happened to be my birthday. When I arose, I found that Kat had a box and a note from Father. The note was in Father's own beautiful hand.

It read,

Happy Birthday Bessy. I was fortunate enough to talk with a gardener who just happened to be working on this as we conversed. I know that this may be one of the most humble gifts I have given you, but after seeing you last night I felt it to be the perfect gift for today. I even finished a few details myself. Know that I will always see you this way. Love, Henry R

Inside the small, ornate box was a roughly carved girl atop an unsaddled horse. Her hair was flowing behind her and her face lifted as if she were looking at the sky. It was crudely made but beautiful, nonetheless. I pressed it to my chest and blinked away the tears I knew were forming in my eyes, wondering at the providence that had fulfilled my one desire. I had hoped with all my heart as I was up there on that hill that Father could see me for who I was, and I now believed that he had. Amazement and gratitude filled my spirit and words of thankfulness came to my heart. They were said silently there, for just then Mary and her maid, Susan, walked into the room. She had a pleasant smile on her face, so I knew she was not mad at me for leaving her so abruptly the night before.

She could be pleasant. Nevertheless, I sighed.

"I see mine will not be the first gift given today." She said as she walked across the room to wrap her arms tightly around my shoulders. She then said with real warmth, "Happy birthday, my one and only sister. My dear, sweet Elizabeth."

When she pulled away, Susan handed her a small wrapped gift, and she, in turn, handed it to me. I put the carving in my pocket and pulled the gauzy cloth away from what was obviously a book. I admired the cover for a few moments, for it was intricately stitched. The beauty was not merely in the tightness and evenness of the stitches, but also the boldness of the color scheme. My name and the date were attractively sewn between deep purple iris and dark green vines. Its style said "" , not "Mary".

That is, until I opened the cover.

Mary leaned over me and read the cover page aloud. "A book of hours translated from Latin to English by Mary Tudor for her sister Elizabeth Tudor."

I knew such a gift must have taken Mary months. Still it instantly rankled. I knew almost every prayer by memory. I had learned many of them from her, for we said them every day the same as anyone else. Many times, I even felt her rote prayers in my heart. So, I did not understand why she would insist on giving them to me in this manner as if I were some heathen who needed to know my God better.

Of course, she saw herself as the magnificent Saint Mary who would grant me, the Protestant bastard, a book of hours so I might study and learn of my wickedness.

Or perhaps she thought that the day of my birth was the perfect time to remind me that my mother was the cause for England's break with Catholicism.

Or worse, she might think that I was so uneducated and naive that a copy of the prayers translated from Latin to English would fascinate me, as if I did not already know Latin, or any other foreign tongue. I dare say I spoke French better than even she! She could at least have presented me with a challenge by translating them into Spanish, which I had only begun learning. That, at least, would be interesting. Not to mention it would be a gift befitting a giver so obsessed with her Spanish mother's memory that she could think of nothing else.

I tried very hard to not let any of this anger become apparent on my face, and instead of saying all that was in my mind, I took a slight breath in. "Thank you, Mary. How very thoughtful."

Kat must have been able to tell my feelings and spoke up at this point. "Should I ring for breakfast, my Lady?"

I instantly replied, "I was thinking of eating in the hall today. I am hoping to glimpse Father before he leaves." With that, I left the room, leaving the book with Kat.

I want quotes around this and Mary, but...not sure if it's necessary.