The trumpets blare as warning that the joust is about to begin, the King and Princes are being suited up in their gold polished armor, their glossy black hunters wait passionately, being brushed down by the stable boys, the grooms putting the harness and their armor on them as well. The Queen sits in her royal tent, the thick red and gold curtains with little silver roses embroidered on them sway softly in the wind. I sit next to her on my little stool, twisting my favor over and over, awaiting for Kyle to stand boldly in front of his mother and ask for her blessing and in front of the whole court and the peasants who have traveled all the way here, ask and take my favor. James has asked for Mistress Thomas’s favor, another lady in waiting, a milky face girl, no older then Fifthteen, but she is very generous with her favors. I can see her talking behind her hand to another flirty scandals child girl, her pink silk favor in her hand, waving it at any passing male. I turn and see the Queen’s exasperated eyes on the girl.
“Let the Joust begin!” The Queen says, standing and walking to edge of the tent, so that the people can see her, there is a roar of cheer and calls of proclaiming love for their Queen, someone who loves the people, and tries to make the kingdom fair and peaceful at all times. She smiles at her husband, handing her scarlet red favor over in her pale delicate hand, the king catches her hand and brings in to his lips before taking the favor with her initials written in silver, a small rose, a sign of her house, on the right corner. The crowd roars in approval at the sight of the passionate King and Queen, the great King James and his Queen, the beautiful Queen Amy. The trumpets blare again, and the King, first up, takes his position on the side of the sanded edge, the opponent, his good friend and man of combat Sir John, waiting on his brown hunter, his armor less great as the kings, but the same build as he, and age.
The Queen sits, poised in tension, watching her beloved husband waiting for the sigh to plunge forward. As the drum beats the two men surge forward, it happens so fast that I can’t even scream or register. But I see a bluer of red and gold skirts of the Queen flash by. Then the screams of the people and court. I see the king, laying in the sand, still and straight like, God forbid, a corps. My heart plunges in terror as I race forward trailing the Queen who snaps at a royal page to order the people back. He hesitates about me going through, but lets me pass, holding the other ladies and maids in waiting. The Queen runs into the arena where the King lies, a small crowd gather around him, the Princes’s dark and fair heads among the Kings own physician and his friend Sir John, who looks deathly pale and shaken. The sight of the Queen breaks the little party; she falls to her knees like a fisherman’s wife and not a Queen. She takes his head into her lap, taking off his helmet and running his sweaty dark hair, his cruels rounding around her shaking fingers.
“James, beloved, speak to me.” she whisper, begging her husband of nearly twenty years to open his eyes. I find I am crying, trembling with terror and grief as I watch the King who has been my father, lying still, hair the color of raven’s wings, skin the color of bronze and eyes bluer then the rivers, eyes that refuse to open.
“AnaRose.” I look around to see Kyle standing next to me, strong and posed, looking at his father on the ground and his mother on her knees. He touches my hand, fingers interlacing with mine, I lean against him, my head fitting perfectly against his shoulder, and he is tall enough to lean his head on mine. “He’ll be fine, just got the wind knocked out of him.” I look up, drawing strength from his words. His gold armor shinning so brightly, it almost blinds me from his serious gray eyes, I can see he has gone a little pale, but there is certainty in his steady voice.
I nod, trying to look brave as well, but when a deep guff sound comes from the king I snap my eyes to him, he has opened his eyes, the color returning to his cheeks, he even manages a smile as he looks around his small fear stricken party.
