The Royal Seamstress | ONC2020

Chapter 2: The King's Demand

When I sat in front of my bed that night. Saying my prayers. I felt my heart pounding in my breast. Normally, I was at my most relaxed state when I was confessing my worries and hopes to the heavenly Father at night. But not tonight. I was anxious. Absolutely anxious to be caught in still practicing the true religion. In my opinion the King was a heretic, burning both Catholics and Lutherans side by side.

I rose from the floor. Drew a cross over myself as I said Amen. Pulling the blanket to the side I slid into the warm bed. I wasn't tired. My thoughts were running wild, and my head felt heavy. A headache was beginning to form. All the worries whirled in my head. How was I ever going to get rid of all my catholic artifacts without anyone noticing?

I looked at the little cross my mother had given me before her death. It had been in the family for centuries. The women in my family had always been royal seamstresses and Catholics as far as my mother had told me, and I had all intentions on continuing that tradition.

As I stared into the ceiling, shadows outside flickered in the candlelight I hadn't jet put out. I rose to my knees and looked out the window. A man was arriving on horseback at this unusual hour. He must be a regular visitor at court since he had the right to arrive at night. He would probably be presented to the King in the morning. I was almost dying to know who it was. All I could see was a sword hanging by his side. He must be a nobleman.

I was summoned already at dawn to the King's rooms. I thought it strange he would have me in his private rooms, since he always gave me orders during the day when all the officials were present.

"Seamstress Elizabeth Webb," it was announced when I entered the King's rooms. The King rose from his chair as he saw me. I curtsied at once, looking at the ground.

"Elizabeth Webb," he repeated, like he tasted my name in his mouth. It actually scared me. His tone of voice insinuated he had other thoughts than just giving me a new task.

"Your Majesty," I said.

"Please, sit down," he said. I did as he asked. I didn't dare not to. He was after all the King. He placed himself in the chair opposite mine. His gaze followed my curves. Then my face. Looking at every little detail.

"Have your Majesty seen the dress I made for Queen Jane?" I asked to distract him. Normally he would have to speak first, but I felt I had to get his gaze of me.

"Yes, it's beautiful. Just like I wanted it to be."

"I'm happy you find it so."

"Elizabeth, you're not here to discuss the dress of Queen Jane. You're here on a quite other errand."

"Majesty?"

"I want you to become my mistress, Elizabeth."

Everything stopped for a moment. I knew I had to answer him, but how could I refuse him? Would he cut of my head, if I did? No one could say no to the King. If he wanted something, he would have it. No matter what.

"I can't," I said hoarsely.

"Why?"

"I'm still a maid, your Majesty. And I intend on staying that way until I get married."

He smiled at my honest words. Then laughed a little.

"I think you miss the point. Take of your clothes and lay on the bed," he commanded.

"No!" I said and rose from the chair. "I will not!"

Before he could do anything, I had run out the room. Fleeing downstairs to the tables filled with cloth. I couldn't catch my breath, but I wasn't sure if it was from the running or from the fact, that King Henry the Eighth just had asked me to lie with him and become his mistress. Many women couldn't reject him. He was the most adored and wanted man in the kingdom. He was appointed by God. He was the father of the realm. Even that couldn't get me into bed with him. I didn't care if he had offered me tons of gold and titles. I just couldn't lie with him!

"What's wrong?" Margaret asked, as she entered the room.

"Margaret!" I exclaimed. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I can tell. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said and gave her a little smile. I simply couldn't tell her what had just happened. I now knew how Anne must have felt when Lord Norfolk had asked her to lie with him. The dilemma circling in the head. I dared not take the same chance she'd done. If the King wasn't pleased with me, then my head would be cut off, but if I said no like I had done, I also would pay with my head for not obeying the highest authority in England. Now I just had to wait for my arrest order.

Instead of dwelling in the nothingness I sat down and began working. Margaret sat beside me, looking curiously at me all the time. I had to do something to make her think nothing was the matter.

"Have you taken any decision about your dilemma with Lord Norfolk?" I asked.

"No, I still don't know what to do."

She sighed loudly. I wished I could have told her of my own dilemma. We might have shared thoughts on how to deal with it, but that still wasn't an option.

"Do you ever fear you're going to lose your head?" she said suddenly.

I nodded. "Yes, all the time."

A maid came down at the same moment as I was going to explain my answer.

"Elizabeth Webb," the maid said. "The King is asking for an audience with you."

Oh no... it looked like the fear of loosing the head on the scaffold was turning into reality.

Word count: 1004 words

Total word count: 2671 words