the love of my lives third person pov

Prologue

Summer, 1553

A girl stands in the middle of the road looking much younger than her eight years. She is too thin for her age only able to have one meal a day if she's lucky. The dress that she wears is too big and has been ripped up to her knee and re-tied in hopes of preventing her from tripping. When she grows out of it, she will simply untie it and attempt to sew it up again. If that doesn't work, she will have to be the talk of the town showing her ankles. Her bare feet with open sores from the debris were black and muddy from horse dung and the last rainfall. Her ruby red hair which fell in her face has long been cut off at the nape of her neck. Her natural curls bounce as she walks along the street. She cuts it herself to keep it from knotting up horribly though it doesn't help much. She is covered in dirt and sweat from living on the streets and hiding from the guards at night.

Many passersby's thought her a boy, only the ones who cared to look upon this street urchin long enough realized the truth. Her eyes green as the sea and just a fathomless were tear stained from nights of crying the pain away. So much pain. Her parent's death. He mothers Blue eyes and blonde hair crying for her to leave home. Leave her parents side as they lay dying. Her father's lifeless green eyes staring at the ceiling blank and stone cold, his red hair toppled all over the pillow. Those black spots all over their body eating away at their skin, their bones showing through that protective layer. Her mother refuses to hug the girl when her father had just died, picking up her arm and holding it in front of Lena telling her that mommy was next. To leave home and never come back, to hide away and get out of town in a wagon. The entire city was wiped out now. She heard the news a couple of months back. Not one of her family or friends survived. That was four years ago now. No one wanted to help an orphan though. It was just one more ungrateful mouth to feed, they all figured someone else would take care of her. No one had the time. No one took her in; no kind words had been said to her. Many just slammed the door in her face. The girl had given up trying to ask for charity. She resorted to stealing. It would be far less painful to lose a hand then keep getting sent away while watching a loving family at the dinner table. The orphanages were packed as well, so they weren't taking new children. And the children there were never adopted. No one wanted to take care of someone else's kids. They wanted their own.

Only one single flaw marred her otherwise perfect olive complexion. A scar on her right side of her upper lip. Rock had caught her there. She smiled at the memory. Anyone else would have hated it. But she loved it. It was a reminder of the only good thing on the streets.

On this day a gold trim carriage happened to pass through the muddy dirt-paved roads of town, its wheels splattering mud on the passersby. As it's wheels carryed the heavy cart between the tiny makeshift market stalls set up for the coming Saturday.

Lena had been in the middle of the road begging for a shilling, or even a bit of moldy bread; anything would do. However, when she saw the carriage she quickly scrambled to her feet, tripping over her too big dress several times in the process. Beggars were punished, and that looked like a royal carriage. Hurriedly she tried to find a place to hide.

Not soon enough however as the carriage came to a halt, and out of it stepped the most beautiful young lady. Lena had never seen such fine things. Pearls were dripping from the woman neck and ears like beads of water. Her dress was made of the finest silk, roses clustered in silver thread hung to the woman's gown; each detail stitched to perfection. She wore her hair up as was custom for a married woman. Lena was awestruck. This must be Queen Mary Tudor. Lena thought to herself in awe. The beauty of this being was almost too much to bear. Suddenly Lena remembered what she was doing; she was running from this woman, she needed to hide. But she never got the chance.

The woman caught Lena's eye, and in a voice that would make mountains tremble commanded Lena, "Stop!" Lena was frozen to the spot. She didn't know what else to do, so she stayed, fearing turning to run would cause more trouble. Because that's the only reason, this woman could be talking to her? Right? Because she was in had done something wrong?