Mille Jours

another court

It ''twas the year of 1524, and I was enjoying the French court very well. I was sent here very young to be a lady-in waiting for the French Queen. Everything was lavish, and the King and Queen even better. There was not one thing that didn't shine with imaginary gold. I danced for what seemed like hours on end, my blue dress twirling. I was not praised for my beauty anywhere, but my black and beautiful eyes are what catches everyone's attention. That is what I am doing, looking into a man's eyes as I dance with him. I know I am to be arranged to marry Henry Percy, but he is at the English court, and I at French. The man dancing with me, is quite handsome. His blonde hair is curly, and his eyes grey. I smile, and he returns the favor. We speak of mild things, such as our statuses and mood. It all becomes to an end, the Queen ultimately feeling unwell, and retiring for the night.
"Until again, what is your name?" I say.
"Robert." He says in a thick French accent.
I nod, and turn around to follow the Queen. Her ladies stay silent, and as do I. The Queen has been in grave health for quite some time. As we follow her, she clutches her swollen stomach in pain.
"Your Majesty, are you alright?" A lady squeaked in her high pitch voice.
Queen Claude nods,
"I am quite alright, just bring me to my room, and fetch the physician."
We had all realized that the many children Claude had, were finally catching up to her. She was paler than usual, and this baby bothered her more than her others. It was not time for her confinement, so for her to have these issues was the most concerning. Lady Elizabeth and I gently led the Queen to her chambers. We were just about to settle Queen Claude into her bed, when she clutched her stomach in pain and shouted. Elizabeth looked at me with fear in her eyes, I returning the favor. I shouted as loud as I could,
"FETCH THE PHYSICIAN! QUICKLY."
The guards armor posted outside her door could be heard clacking as they rushed to the few rooms from the Queen's. The weight of her majesty falling almost made us petite ladies collapse. We held her up, and laid her in her bed as quickly as possible. The physician suddenly burst through the door, as the Queen cried.
"I am losing my baby! A future heir to the throne." She said, sobbing.
Her delicate fingers touched her most private places, and she withdrew it, her fingers drenched in blood. This made her pass out, and the physician ushered us out of the room.
My hand was around my mouth, for I had never seen such a thing. Elizabeth comforted me, and we stood outside the door, awaiting the news.
At 5 in the morning, Claude of France died from a miscarriage.
I am now seated in a carriage, on my way to the English court, to be Katherine of Aragon's lady in-waiting.