The Poisoned Throne

Chapter 14

 Mary

The sound of her steps resonated in the hallway as Mary moved from her own chambers to her husband’s.

“Philip,” she said, as she pushed open the door.

He turned away from the tailors currently fitting his new clothing to face her. “Mary? What’s the matter?”

She walked up close to him - he stood very tall on top of a stool - and placed the letter in his hand.

After glancing down at the letter, then up at her, recognizing the conflicting emotions that he found within her blue eyes, he dismissed the tailors so that they could be alone. “What’s this?” he asked.

“Evelyn,” she said. “She’s crossing the border. And I need to talk to you about something else as well. Something you…”

He stepped down from the stool and cupped her face in both his hands to stop her from looking away from him. “What is it?”

“Evelyn, she’s passing the border in a month. That’s what she writes.” Mary broke free from his grasp only to walk closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. She pressed the side of her face to his chest. His heartbeat filled her ears, slow and steady and reliable. “She decided to rush matters because of a letter I sent her.”

He let his head fall down, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His breath tickled her neck. “What letter?”

She let her eyes fall closed for a moment before speaking. “A letter about how I’m the true born heir to the throne.”

One, two, three heartbeats. Then he drew back. “What do you mean?”

She craned her neck to look up at him. “I mean that Samuel was not my father. Raphael was.” She wetted her lips as she waited for his response. When none came, she said, “I have the documents to prove it.”

He frowned. “What kinds of documents?”

“An amendment to Samuel’s initial statement in the trial,” she said, “signed by Samuel on the day of his death.”

He let out a puff of breath. “That’s powerful.”

She nodded. “I know.”

He leaned down, tilting up her head so that their eyes met mere centimeters apart. “Why didn’t you tell me, Mary?”

She shrugged. “The time had to be right. I… I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make my claim. I’m still not sure.”

“But if you’re the rightful heir…” His eyebrows drew together as he attempted to understand.

“It’s not about that,” she said. “It’s about the people. Elizabeth is a find Queen. There’s peace. People have a chance to live. I don’t want to start a war.”

For many long moments, he stared into her eyes, studying. “Gods, I love you,” he whispered.

Her smile was not conscious, but it was not unwanted, either. She felt her chest swell with happiness. “Even if I kept secrets from you?”

“I didn’t expect you not to,” he said. “Not after… not after how I reacted last time you revealed something to me.”

She swallowed deeply. The memory of his rejection still hurt, even now, even so many years and declarations and actions of love later.

“I don’t blame you for that,” she whispered.

He kissed her, a loving, tender, unmoving kiss.