"I envy the farm girl," she thought as the villagers cheered the joust. Birth made her a royal. She would have preferred to live a simpler life full of easy laughter and comforting relationships. One particularly jovial young maiden caught the Queen's eye. The maiden was blushing as a young lad paid her a compliment or two. The Queen sighed to think that her life seemed artificial and staged compared to the genuine interaction she was witnessing there in the field. She hoped the King would not see the tears beginning to fall. With a quick glance, she saw that his eye didn't think to glance her way. "Oh to be that maiden," she thought.
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"I envy the farm girl," she thought as the villagers cheered the joust. Birth made her a royal. She would have preferred to live a simpler life full of easy laughter and comforting relationships. One particularly jovial young maiden caught the Queen's eye. The maiden was blushing as a young lad paid her a compliment or two. The Queen sighed to think that her life seemed artificial and staged compared to the genuine interaction she was witnessing there in the field. She hoped the King would not see the tears beginning to fall. With a quick glance, she saw that his eye didn't think to glance her way. "Oh to be that maiden," she thought.
Well..she just wasn't sure at all how she arrived here..she was happily slumbering in her chair and when she awoke..well..she was here. Strangly dressed folks and odd sights. Although some of them looked correctly dressed..some where well odd at best. She hesitated to move..as no one seemed to be at all surprised to see her sitting there. Maybe if she closed her eyes and tried to go back to her slumber..it might just be all right...maybe just maybe....
Her heart thumped hard within her corset as she saw him from afar. He stood still amongst the throng, his intent gaze resting upon her and she felt the soul within her cry out. How she wanted to jump from her regal throne and throw herself to him, escaping forever. But the immaculate dress with all it's layers and jeweled seams would have prevented that even if she had the will to attempt it.
Beside her sat her royal king. The man she dutifully was sworn to as wife. He was much her elder, but she was of royal family too. The marriage, arranged by her brother, the king, was to conjoin the two countries of France and England and she had no choice but to whisper a goodbye to the count she loved. The count who now stood so far away, yet so close. So close. She kept composure, keeping that mask over her emotions that always was a necessary evil to her.
She recalled her pleas to her brother when she was to be married. "If I am ever released from this duty, widowed or otherwise, please promise me you will allow me to choose my own next husband. Please!" He had coldly nodded his consent and something within her hoped, yet knew the promise may easily be broken by duty.
Yet, even though, as she waved to the crowd her gaze never left his face and her spirit longed for the promise to be fulfilled.
-inspired by the book I'm reading right now "The Last Boleyn" by Karen Harper
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