"My uncle shall marry Jane Ainsworth a week after the one-year anniversary of the late Queen's death," Edmund said while swirling the wine in his goblet, his green eyes deep in thought.
"If that is the case, what will be the fate of the two princesses?" I asked curiously.
"They will be declared illegitimate, Anne. If lucky, they will be allowed to stay in the palace until they can be married off, but if not, they would either be exiled or sent off to a nunnery," Edmund sighed. "The King is not a loving father."
I remembered Princess Margaret's beautiful yet stubborn face, and Princess Cecily's tear filled eyes. Would the two girls spend their lives locked up in a nunnery, having to leave behind the life of comfort and glamour they had ever since they were born?
That day, my parents held a feast to celebrate the betrothal between Edmund and I. My fifteenth birthday was in four months, but Father and Edmund agreed to hasten it to before the King's marriage to Jane Ainsworth, out of fear of any intrusions.
A hundred barrels of wine were brought out from our cellar, a thousand chickens were slathered in oil and roasted in the oven, twenty carts full of potatoes were boiled to make pottage, fifty basketfuls of apples were made into pies, and hundreds of quails were made into stew.
My father invited all the commonfolk of Rhyland, and thousands of people flocked into our estate that afternoon. Lisbeth was sour faced as usual, as her own celebration was far less prestigious than mine.
Of course, that had less to do with our parents' favoritism and more to do with who we were marrying. All the expense had come out of Edmund's pocket, and all my parents had to do was to host the feast.
"Isn't that your cousin Benedict, and his new wife?" Edmund asked, and I turned around to see Benny holding hands with Leanne McCarthy--no, now she is Leanne Moreau. Benedict was acting like a thirsted dog, and followed the woman wherever she went, and catered to her every desire.
Leanne herself, however, had already begun to act like a future countess and carried herself with grace and prestige, completely forgetting all the people who had died in order to get her there.
"Your Grace," Benedict greeted Edmund when we eventually crossed paths. "Anne," he added, but with less enthusiasm.
I tried to smile, just to be civil, but the smirk on Leanne's stupid face gave me the urge to tear her to pieces. It had only been five months since Lady Grace's passing, and this wench happily occupied her position and acted as if it were rightfully hers.
Did she not realize that if it were not for the illegitimate child growing inside her, she would undoubtedly be cast off and fed to the dogs?
"You are so lucky Lady Anne," Leanne remarked. "It must be so exciting to marry into the royal family."
Looking back on that, I slowly realize that these words might have been completely innocent, as they were uttered by a mere sixteen-year-old, but my fourteen-year-old self was livid.
"You did pretty well yourself, Lady Leanne. How does it feel to rise so high above your own station?" I said through gritted teeth.
Leanne's smirk immediately fell, and she looked at me in fear, and quickly glanced at her husband for defense, but Benedict was already far away, enthusiastically chatting with my fiancé, shamelessly trying to curry favour.
"What is wrong with you, Lady Anne?" she cried out and inched away from me, her face grim and taut as if she were gravely wronged.
"Me? What is wrong with me? It is you! You are the problem! If it were not for you and that bastard in your stomach, so many people did not have to die!" I shouted at her.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
The Usurper's Queen | COMPLETED
ऐतिहासिक साहित्यHow far are you willing to go for a taste of power? Through the eyes of an outsider, Phoenicia might seem like a peaceful, prosperous kingdom. But take a closer look, and you will see the burgundy blood that stains the hands of those standing up hig...
