No Fury

Now: Fifty Five

My sympathy for the Council surges somewhat after my blunt question is dropped like lead into the room. They glance to each other and fall silent, clearly at a loss.

With fresh air in my chest and food in my stomach, I register that this situation is unknown to all of us; MuCullough is a man of three and thirty, Douglas is in his mid-twenties, and Lord Tomlinson is only a year or two older than Harry. In our lifetimes - other than the death of Queen Anne - we have suffered no hardship. We have only known peace and prosperity. None of them knows quite what to do about the Queen.

Although the law of the kingdom does give them the power to rule in times of war, they clearly do not want to order her death without a trial that involves Harry's oversight. And I understand: executing the Queen, a princess of Spain, would surely escalate the war.

"Let us send word to the King," Tomlinson says. "He is aware that Spain was funding the rebels, but does not yet know the full involvement of the Queen, nor that she imprisoned Cathryn and the princess."

I wince, hesitating at this plan. "I do not know whether it is wise to tell him of our imprisonment. I worry he will be enraged. I do not want to compromise his safety. He would be distracted with worry."

Douglas agrees, nodding quickly. "He would return at once."

My heart soars at the thought; it hadn't occurred to me. Harry returning home immediately would be ideal. "Well then I change my mind. We must tell him."

"Lady Cathryn," McCullough says, and I startle at the new title, "the war continues. We require the King out there, leading the front."

"More than we require him here, determining how to handle grand treason committed by the Queen?"

I can see McCullough beginning to lose his patience, and I am not surprised. I have no say here, no station. Already I have committed great disrespect by breaking into the conversation at all.

"Cathryn," Douglas begins, cajoling. I turn my fiery gaze upon him and he shrinks somewhat. "The responsibility lies with us to determine the best path forward. Zayn will see you out."

I try to swallow my rage that Maria is not thrown to the dungeon this instant: her prison remains her opulent tower suite.
I try to swallow my panic that she will escape somehow.
I try to not feel powerless to bring Harry back to me.

Instead, I focus on the relief that I am free, and the anticipation of seeing my family. I take Anne from Zayn's arms, and we make for the door.

Just at the threshold, I am halted by McCullough's words: "Where will the princess reside?"

Turning, I look at him, bewildered. "With me, my Lord."

"Given that much of the village knows she is the daughter of a king, I am not convinced that is the safest course of action. We would prefer she live under guard in the castle."

Lifting my chin, I tell him, "I shall strike you a deal. When the queen is either in the dungeon, or dead, the princess and I shall move into the castle."

The Council do not respond, and I take it as tacit agreement. I nod to Zayn, and lead us out of the room.

~~

I practically run through the village, ignoring the way everyone seems to come out of their home or place of occupation and stare at me, clutching Anne in my arms.

Bursting into the cottage, I find only Mary, sitting at the table near the kitchen. She stands with a gasp, rushing to me and throwing her arms around my shoulders.