The War of Queens

Chapter 62

Mary

 Spring came in the shape of the littlest butterfly. It bore a reddish brown hue with black taints and circles of white. When Mary saw it settle upon the outer sill of her window, her mind lifted from its hazy state - for the uneasy sleep at night left her tired in bed most mornings - and she hurried to the window to take in its simple beauty. She could scarcely believe that the warmth and color once taken from the world was now returned.

 Her thoughts were interrupted by one of the servants. “My lady, Lord Philip is here to see you,” she said.

 Mary looked up from the butterfly. “Take him to my solar while I dress.”

 She kept to simple, light gowns these days, just like all the other ladies-in-waiting. Even at feasts, she was always sure to not dress too nicely. After Sybil’s reluctance to pledge and following house arrest, the court had seemed at edge. Mary did not want to stir up anything by seeming to return to the habits of a Princess.

 Even though Philip was now of a much higher rank than Mary, he still greeted her with a deep bow and a respectful kiss on her hand. She often wondered why he did it, but she was afraid to ask. Perhaps this friendship was but a fragile bubble of happiness that might burst if she ever reminded him of the reality that lay outside of it.

 “Please sit,” she said and gestured for one of the plush chairs. She sat down in front of him. “Would you like something to drink?”

He shook his head.

He seemed uneasy, she noticed. He shifted in his seat and kept glancing towards the servants. “Why did you come?”

“I… I wanted to speak to you - in private, if possible.” He glanced at the servants again.

Mary hesitated for a moment. You’re being silly, she told herself. This is Philip. You can trust him. Yet, her voice was shaky when she dismissed her servants.

“The Queen is getting impatient,” Philip said, leaning forward a little. She jumped from reflex when his hands came closer to her, but he did not seem to notice. “Your sister continues to deny her. In the wake of Sybil’s protest, Helena is becoming very dangerous. I don’t think Elizabeth will be able to wait much longer.”

Mary pushed herself further back into her seat. “What does that mean?”

He mirrored her movements and leaned back. She let out a breath of relief. “It means that your sister has to come to her senses soon. Very soon.”

“I’ve tried all I can,” Mary said, rubbing her eyes.

He looked away. “I’m sorry, but if she does not bow down, I think Elizabeth will be forced to execute her.”

Mary’s eyes widened. “She can’t.”

“She’s the Queen,” he said.

She jumped from her chair and began pacing the room. “She promised that she would spare our lives.”

“In return for your fealty,” Philip said. “Helena has not given Elizabeth her fealty.”

Mary’s eyes burned, but she did not want to cry. She did not want to seem weak. “I wish Evelyn was here,” she said, stopping for a moment to look out of the window. There was a glimpse of the mountains in the horizon. “She would know what to do.”

“So do you.”

Suddenly, he was right beside her. Not close enough that he could reach out and touch her, but close enough that it scared her. Her skin seemed to crawl.