𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊, 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 𝐯

00:18

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘, 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃. "Henry!" she shouts, her soft voice echoing off the stone corridors of the castle.

She hasn't set foot in a castle since she left France with her mother when she was nine.

"Henry!" she calls out again. No response. Elizabeth huffs as she picks up the pace once again. She can practically taste the anger coming from Henry as he marches through the corridors. He moves with purpose, taking turns so quick Elizabeth has to skid to a stop to avoid missing them entirely.

"WHERE IS HE?!" he suddenly shouts, his anger coming out in full force.

Elizabeth yelps as she comes to a full stop, Henry's voice echoing off the walls. She's never in her entire life heard someone speak with such anger and hatred before. It scares her to see Henry like this. "WHERE IS THE MONSTER?!"

Elizabeth gasps, her heart beating furiously now. She slowly begins to approach the room Henry took a sharp turn into, her nervousness getting the best of her. She's never met an English official before and she doesn't know how they'll react to Henry's outburst or the presence of a stranger.

"Where is the monster?" she hears him ask much calmer now that he's in the room.

Elizabeth turns the corner and peers inside. There are about a dozen people milling about in front of a large bed with white curtains hanging from the corners.

Henry approaches the bed, the Archbishop blocking his path. "Move," he orders. "Leave him." Elizabeth steps into the room, ignoring the glances of the men around her.

"The King needs rest," the Archbishop insists, his voice desperate.

Elizabeth grabs Henry's arm gently, not to stop him but to let him know she's right beside him.

"Soon he will have it." Henry continues towards the Archbishop, his stance rigid and his gait quick.

"He's dying." Elizabeth can tell the Archbishop doesn't want to move but he can't disobey orders from a member of the royal family, even if it's the wayward Prince they all seem to despise.

Henry stops next to the Archbishop and slowly looks up. "Leave," he seethes, his voice low. The Archbishop hesitates before stepping around Henry, ignoring Elizabeth's polite nod.

Elizabeth squeezes Henry's arm, stopping him briefly. He avoids his gaze, his profile to her as he glares at the floor. "Maybe it would be best to calm yourself," she whispers, her thumb gently rubbing his inner arm.

Henry's head moves slowly until he's staring directly into her eyes and she automatically knows he's not capable of calming himself at the moment. Elizabeth remains silent as she releases his arm.