Queen of Hearts

Holy Water Cannot Help You Now

Florence's P.O.V

It was over. It was all over.

We boarded the ship smoothly. Nobody suspected a thing. Just an average woman and her husband carrying their daughter onto the ship to England. It was a large ship, very grand, with diamond chandeliers and a marble floor in the dance room and dining room. Lush velvet red curtains hung over the windows, blocking the glaring moonlight. Joan, Rob and I made our way to our room. My heart was thumping so loud that I was sure the gaggle of chattering passengers could hear it over their own noise. I couldn't relax. Something was going to happen; I could just feel it...and Rob's constant chatter was not helping the situation. 

"Flo, could you get some milk for Joan?"
"Flossie, did we pass a shop at all?"
"Flomble, did we bring spare blankets?"
"FLORENCE!"
"WHAT?!" I screamed back. Rob put his hands up in mock surrender and made a face at Joan, who giggled behind her tiny hands. I was not in the mood to even put on a fake smile. I turned away from them both and gazed out of the window, at the gorgeous, captivating night sky. My eyes were fixed on a particularly bright star winking at me from so far away. Oh, what I would do to be able to fly. I would soar away from the troubles and worries and be free. Of course I would never leave for too long. I had a child and Joan to look after.

Rob was throwing Joan around like an airplane and making her laugh until her eyes watered. I smiled, not looking at them, but feeling the family energy in the room around me.

It was the last time I would ever be with them.

The ship's engines started to rumble. "This is it!" Rob said excitedly. "We're off!" Father and daughter rejoiced.

It was the last time I would ever hear them laugh.

The ship began moving slowly out of the docks. Joan clambered into my arms to look out the window. She gaped in awe at the huge, neverending blue waters.

It was the last time I would ever hold her. 

The ship stopped abruptly. I looked at Rob, who was stretched out on our bed staring at the ceiling, a stupid smile on his face. That beautiful, charming, white-toothed smile would never be shown again. 

Footsteps were coming down the hallway. Men were shouting. Joan tensed up. I clutched her tightly.
"Rob," I said, panic rising in my chest. "Rob, it's them."
"Don't be stupid, Flossie," he yawned. "We're safe. Some other dumbarse probably got too drunk before-"
His words were cut short as our door was broken down. I screamed, holding Joan so tight as if I were hoping to absorb her into my skin and keep her safe forever. She was wrestled from my arms and I broke down, screaming and crying as my daughter was taken away from me forever. Rob threw a few punches at the Witch Hunters before he was knocked out and carried away. They ripped my wig off and handcuffed me. 
"We got you this time, you sly heretic," one of the Hunters said into my ear. His breath was hot and smelled of beer, making me gag. They escorted me off the ship, which had returned to the docks. 

The rest of the evening was a blur to me. I was forced into a carriage and then locked in a cell in the Tower of Salem. I didn't bother examining the room to see if I was in the same one as last time because all my energy was put into sobbing and throwing myself at the wall. I was hit, kicked, my hair was pulled, my clothes torn away and replaced with prison rags. I was starved for days on end, I wasn't told where Joan was and hell if I knew whether Rob was dead or alive.

A thousand questions ran through my mind, remaining unanswered. Had they captured Grace and JJ? How did they find us? Who turned us in? Did somebody recognise me? Were they going to kill me? Would they spare Rob and Joan? Where would Joan live? Where was Joan?

I found myself yearning after Joan of Arc, the Saint of Orleans, who was burnt at the stake seven years ago. I wondered if I would ever see her on this earth as an apparition, or if I would be reunited with her in the Otherworld.

As if she had read my mind, the ghost of Joan of Arc appeared in my room. I was not surprised. I was numb to every feeling now.

"Florence," she said, her voice exactly as I remembered it. "Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?"
"I'm going to die," I said bluntly. "Happiness hit me like a train on a track and knocked me straight back here."
"You must fight!" Joan said, almost ordering me to fight on.
"It's over. I've been running for seven years. It's over. There is nothing I can do."
Joan sighed and gazed at me with sad eyes. "I will protect your daughter," she said. "If you are not willing to fight, then there is nothing I can do for you."
I sat up on the wooden bed, back against the wall. "Even if I did make it out of here alive, where would I go? They know what I look like. They will not give up. Unless all the Witch Hunters were destroyed..." I looked to Joan hopefully. She took the hint and slowly shook her head. 
"I cannot do that," she said quietly. I slumped back.
"I'm sorry for asking," I mumbled.
"Don't be. I will do everything I can to help you. You fed me, you kept my spirits high, you kept me company in my last days and you named your daughter after me. I am forever grateful and honoured to share a name with a child born of the most strong-willed, incredible woman I have ever met," Joan said. She sat beside me and smiled, bringing a tiny smile to my own lips.
"But I should have done more..."
"No!" Joan said. "There was nothing else you could do. We were both locked away. You showed me more kindness than anyone had in years."

We heard footsteps coming up the hallway. 
"Whatever happens," Joan said, "I will always be here with you. Whether you walk free or die on the stake, I will be right by your side."
I was sobbing again. My door was being unlocked.
"I must go." Joan gave me a swift kiss and vanished. Four guards stepped into my room.
"It's time to die, heretic."