Pen Beneath The Bush

Twist Of Fate (The Letter VN/Tudors)

Hannah Wright, Duchess of Luxbourne was the first to break the royal news in her household. "His Majesty's fallen off his horse, and the Queen had a miscarriage." She had always been open with her servants and ladies in waiting who she was. It's unknown how much her husband knew about her skills. What she knew about the duke's illegal activities was also a mystery. Even to those that have worked under their household for years, their intentions were like clouds you couldn't see through. "I saw it. I sensed some sort of magic. Are any of you responsible for it?"

The staff all shook their heads. "Well one of you is lying. But don't worry, I won't tell. Whoever it was, you had your reasons. Just be sure to pray extra hard before you go to bed. The Archbishop is coming for supper. We must make sure the place is spotless for him. Give him the master guestroom."

Rebecca Steele was present. She was a childhood friend of the duchess, and close friends with the head maid, Isabella Frey. Rebecca was a permanent resident of Wright's household after teaching the Duke of Luxbourne's children how to read and write.

"I don't understand it," Rebecca admitted. She sat down by the window under the grand chandelier. The light bringing out her pale skin. "What sort of wicked witch would do a thing like this? I'm a witch too, but I always used my magic for good things. Educate the ignorant. Help the poor. Treat the sick: that's what Jesus taught us to do."

Isabella carried on setting up the table as Rebecca rambled on, heeding attention to every word. "What kind of witch, so dim-witted, inflicted and wicked would dare curse the King of England?"

Rebecca's eyes lit up. Raising to her feet, she marched towards Isabella and tugged on her skirt. Rebecca raised her eyebrow. "Isabella..."

The maid's handles trembled. "What?"

"You're the only witch here with a motive to kill the king."

Isabella gasped. "Why would say that? I thought you were my friend?" Rebecca raised her fist and slapped Isabella. She took a step back and covered her red cheek. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"YOU BLOODY IDIOT!"

"HE DESERVED IT AFTER WHAT HE DID TO MY FATHER! Hung, drawn and quartered like an animal. He did nothing wrong! The monastery was second home to him."

"Now the Queen's miscarried the long-awaited heir to the throne. It's almost certain she'll be executed soon. You could have killed the king, and the poor Queen's so distraught. Isabella...this is why we must be careful. It's careless curses like this that gets us executed."

"He wouldn't do that. He loves her. He separated England from Rome for the Queen."

"Keep the noise down," the Duchess ordered. "The archbishop will be here any moment."

"I know Hannah." Rebecca showed no sign of calming down. Her cheeks almost the colour of blood. "We must do something, or else we're as doomed as this rat!"

Hannah steered her eyes around the hallway. She squinted and sniffed her nose. She was sure they got rid of the rodents. "What rat?"

Rebecca stomped her feet. A meek squeal was heard underneath her dress. She slid a knife from Isabella's trolley and fished the dead rodent out with the dagger. "This one!"

Hannah clicked her fingers and the bloodied knife and deceased pest melted into Rebecca's hand and formed the shape of a fluttering butterfly.

"We can't undo what we did," Hannah confessed.

"Maybe we can stop Queen Anne's execution!" Rebecca was fond of the new changes being brought in: she was able to worship her protectant faith more freely.

"We can't interfere with fate." Hannah shook her head.

A man ran into the room. "My lady, the Archbishop is here."

"Oh wonderful," Hannah said in delight. "Everyone take your places."

The tables were filled with generous loaves of bread. The duke's recent kills roasted and chopped on the table. He spoke in a sincere tone like honey. Scrumptious apples and barrels of ale piled on top of the table as if they were feeding a village. "You spoil me, my lady."

"Anything for the best servant of God."

"I sense that something is worrying you."

"What makes you think that?"

"Why are the children's tutor standing with your ladies-in-waiting?"

"My friend Rebecca is a lady of many talents. Tutor, friend, maid, writes exceptional poetry too."

"They're witches aren't they like you?"

Hannah seemed surprised. She dropped her goblet. "How did you know?"

"You always had a very special gift," the archbishop explained. "I pray that they'll never find out you're a witch. You and your ladies are the rare breed of witches who use their magic to do the work of the lord. And it worked."

"It did?"

Isabella burst into tears. "I'm sorry for what I did to the king. LORD...PLEASE FORGIVE ME!"

"Bless you my child." The Archbishop stood up to comfort Isabella. "Here eat this bread, the body of Christ. And this wine: the blood of Christ."

"Is there a way to fix this?" Rebecca asked the Archbishop.

The Archbishop smiled at her. "Pray!"

"Is that what we have to do?" Rebecca said, enraged. "I pray every day."

"Perhaps you witches could make a prophecy."

"A prophecy?" Hannah leaned in, smiling like she knew the answer.

"Bless her majesties only living child!"

"If we bless that brat, I'll be forgiven?" Isabella asked.

Rebecca nudged her elbow. "You can't call the princess that!"

"Cleanse your heart and soul from sin," the Archbishop demanded. "Let's pray together and heed our Duchess' prophecy."

The Archbishop chanted his Latin prayers and the maids in the room followed. The food and drink on the table transformed into crowns, royal ships and rolling beads of pearls. "The king will get the heir he craves, but mother and child will have early graves. His daughter's eyes will make him rage, but she shall give birth to the golden age."