by Bridgett Trejo
My fate, I believe, was left in an empty promise. I failed to provide my husband, and King a living son. Our daughter was not enough for him, although she was strong and healthy. I should have known this would happen, because it happened to Katherine before me. I was foolish to believe that it was my love that brought me his devotions. I am certain that he liked the hunt, but it was my empty womb that he needed to bring him his true desire. The irony of wanting a son but needing a woman to get one makes me laugh.
My love for Henri, it consumed me. I would have done anything and everything for him. But now ... I resent him. He made me think that I was enough for him, that I held his warm, beating heart in my hands. But when I looked down, it was not resting in my hands any longer. He caught me in a fierce hunt, then he decapitated my head from my body. He thought a sword was being merciful.
I say it was not!
I am here on the scaffold, and at my feet my headless body is stained in blood. My ladies, they wrap my gruesomely murdered parts in a white cloth and carry me away. I am not ready to go just yet, so I follow them. They handle me carefully, wiping away my blood with wet linens. Their faces can not hide the tears that were on their cheeks just moments ago. I wait to see what they will do with me ...
What is this box? Is that really what they will put me in?
An old, dilapidated box with a moth-eaten velvet interior. This will be my resting place? For the love I bare the King, I will rest in an unmarked grave, forgotten? I choose not to torment myself any longer. I walk away from it all in my new ghostly body.
***
In Wiltshire, the King smothers mistress Seymour's hand with kisses and fills her heads with empty promises. Just days ago I hated her, but now I feel sorry for her. It is Henri that I don't want to dismiss just yet. For him, I have plans. When darkness comes, I shall make my presence known and I am most certain that all will not be forgotten. If I am stuck here in this limbo place, I shall have joyous fun with it. Now off I go to practice. Let the rain clouds open, for it is I Anne Boleyn a queen unbroken.