Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court) Read Online Free PDF Page A

behind the shadow of creamy, saggy flesh, and streaks of gray sliced through her vibrant auburn hair, pulled severely back beneath her headdress. When Mother was young, she’d kept her willowy figure with rigorous daily walks in the garden and by pecking at her food, but the stress of birthing babies, her position—life in the court, even—seemed to have ravaged her.
    I vowed at that moment not to let courtly intrigue ravage me. Although, I would have to figure out a way to make it so. Did Mother try and fail? Would I fail , too?
    There was no question of Mother ’s upbringing, of her importance, being the daughter of Henry VIII’s sister. She was a true princess.
    Whenever she looked upon me, I felt lacking, as though she wished I were someone else—perhaps more like Jane. More interested in studies and religion. More poised. But I was not . I was only me.
    I bit the inside of my cheek, hands wringing at my waist. “Will I have to…” I trailed off, not wanting my mother to know the extent of my knowledge on marital relations—I spent many a good minute listening in on conversations I should not. A bad habit that would surely get me a lashing, but ’twas the way in which I garnered information. No one bothered mincing words when sweet, naïve Katherine was around.
    Mother ’s eyes narrowed as she tried to discern my meaning. “Will you what?” Her voice was exasperated, and I sensed her limited patience was coming to an end. “You will be a dutiful wife, Katherine. You will do your duty as your husband instructs. You will make your family proud. You are a princess of the blood. Start acting the part.”
    I sucked in a ragged breath and lowered my gaze to the floor. So it shall be…
    “When?” When will my imprisonment begin? Because marriage was nothing but a prison, was it not?
    “Three days.” Mother waved her hand at me in dismissal and turned to read a rolled parchment on her writing desk.
    My world crashed down around me. How could she dismiss me thus, when she had delivered me a death sentence?
    “Th -three days?” My mouth fell open in outrage. My earlier conviction to never raise my voice at my mother was tossed to the fire. That was hardly enough time to acclimate myself to the idea of marriage!
    Mother did not look up this time, but simply shook her head as if she ’d already given up and arguing was futile. “Are you deaf, girl? Three days. Now go, you must finish your studies.”
    “But—”
    Mother slammed down the parchment. I jumped. Her gaze flicked to mine, anger flashing in her eyes. Her voice was low and menacing, her words clipped. “But what?”
    I did not know how to voice my concerns. Were three days enough to put together a trousseau? Would I get a chance to speak to my betrothed before we were wed? Did he have the same aspirations as I? Where would I live? Would I ever see my family again? Why had she broken her promise? My mind was a whirl, and I could not concentrate, let alone get the words to come forth.
    Mother , again, drummed her nails against the polished oak of her desk, click click click , and the clock on her mantle chimed five times, as I looked about frantically, trying to pull myself together. To be fair, Lord Henry was not the very worst of grooms. He was close to my age, and I did know him, if only sparingly. He was a quiet sort and awkward with his limbs. Still as much a boy as I was just a girl.
    With a sigh of resignation, I shook my head. “ ’Tis nothing, Mother. I thank you and their lordships for having arranged so advantageous a marriage for me.”
    “That is more like it. You should show your gratitude, Katherine. People will be much more likely to appease your needs if you should use proper manners and etiquette. Your pretty face will only last so long.”
    I nodded, agreeing whole-heartedly with what she had to say. ’Twas something I’d learned to use to my advantage already. When she again dismissed me, I walked from the room in search of