Rhiannon, The Great Queen

Queen Rhiannon

"Good morning, Your Majesty. How fair the skies?" An older gentleman, the keeper of the grounds calls to Rhiannon as she sits perched upon the roof of her stone castle.  A younger man trails behind him and is astonished at seeing his queen lying upon the tower rooftop. Meanwhile, the older fellow, Oisin isn't phased.  He's seen Rhiannon and her parents do many reckless and odd things.  Her dress is dangling over the edges and her bare feet are stretched out as she reclines the morning away.

"The skies are not as grey today." Rhiannon sighs and states flatly. Its only been 3 months since her mother died. She has spent these last months learning the ropes as queen.  

"I have interesting news, Your Majesty."

Rhiannon climbs down onto the balcony and walks into her chambers as the grounds keeper follows her.  "What is it, Oisin?"  

"Your best friend is getting married!"  Oisin smiled with an odd smile.  His expression shows that there's an underlying message in his news.

"Anne?"  Rhiannon sits, as she is taken back with shock.  "Anne Boleyn?" She leans back into her chair.  "I'll be damned.  I thought her heart was untouchable..."  Rhiannon stands and paces around her room.  "I wonder why she hasn't told me about this man, I mean, he must be something in order to make Anne marry him!"

"Ah, well she sent this postage this morning, Your Grace."  Oisin hands her a letter.

"You've helped raise me, Oisin, you can call me Rhia," she smiles.  "Who's your friend here?"  Rhiannon gestures towards the younger gentleman.  

"Well, this is Taron.  He is my nephew!"  Oisin pats his nephew's shoulder with pride.

"Taron," Rhiannon extends her hand, Taron shakily takes it, "Welcome to Castle Dunguaire."

Taron bows as his hand is still shakily within Rhiannon's grasp, "Th-Thank you, Your Majesty."  Rhiannon smiles and gently lifts his head to make his eyeline meet hers.

"Rhia, what do you plan on doing with Anne's invitation?"  Oisin tries to bring them back to the matter at hand.

Rhiannon looks back at the letter and wedding invitation carefully.  She walks into a corridor as she stares intensely at the parchment.  Oisin and Taron trail behind her as she heads into her study.  The doors fly open into a giant room filled with artifacts, top to bottom with books, and work stations for cartography, examination of artifacts and texts, and a station full of tools for excavation and preservation. Rhiannon hastily heads towards the work station with several tools.  She lights the candle, grabs the magnifying glass and quietly begins observing each stroke of the quill and etching of the parchment.  "Look here." Oisin hurries to her side.  "This writing was done in poor lighting. There are large deposits of candle wax, meaning this was written at night and most likely in secret."  Rhiannon holds the letter above the candle light and refocuses the magnifying glass.  "You see that? Those scratch marks are where mistakes were made and pieces of parchment were added to cover up a mistake.  This was done hastily.  Anne also mentions the specific date and castle where she is getting married, even the time of day.  Usually, we are given a day, because the caretakers will guide all royal processions to the correct location.  We are normally just informed the evening before of the exact time and location while the guides take us to the correct chapel."  Rhiannon pauses.  "Something isn't setting right with me."

Taron and Oisin share a look of amazement at Rhiannon's deduction skills.  "What should we do, Rhia?" Oisin asks curiously.

"We're going to the wedding.  But I'm arriving a day early, without a procession so I can scope out the situation for myself.  There's something off about this invitation and Anne."  Rhiannon places the letter on the table and looks out the window.  "Oisin, pack your things, you're coming with me." 

"Ah, Your Majesty, I will need to stay and aid your father while you are gone."  Oisin looks over to Taron and smiles, "Why don't you take Taron with you?"

Taron smiles and bows his head.  Rhiannon's half smile tugs at the right corner of her lips, "Taron, pack your things, you'll be coming with me to London.  We leave tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Your Majesty."