No Other Will Than His
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Rating:
Adult +
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Category:
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,403
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
No Other Will Than His
This is a story of two doomed lovers. Kathryn Howard, the younger cousin of the infamous Anne Bolen, lived a quiet life. It was her passionate, vivacious spirit that snared the most renound king in the relm, King Henry VIII. Within days of Henry\'s divorce from Anne of Cleves, Kathryn became his queen. Henry was smitten, however, Kathryn saught her pleasures elsewhere. It was this need, this yearning for love, that cost Kathryn her crown...and her life.
Keep in mind this is a historical FICTION...
r/r please!!!!!
No Other Will Than His
It was as if she was poised for a dance, standing in the middle of dark room. But she was alone. No music broke the silence. He did not extend his hand and call for a volte. The man before her had no youth left in him. Traces of good looks were hidden behind the bulges of skin that covered his jaw line. His rosebud mouth was pulled into a tight frown. Henry stood, silhouette in the door way. A sheet of parchment lay crumpled at the floor in front of him.
“You have made a grave mistake madam.” He spat, and bustled out of the room.
Kathryn stood still in the middle of the floor, her hands clasped. Her grace did not waver in the fierce aura of her husband. Very few people could scare her, and Henry, King of England was not one of them. Only months before she had had the king in the palm of her hand. He believed her to be no less than perfect, under his own pretense of course.
\'The silly, simpering beast.\' she thought. This was not what she had wanted. No, this is not at all what she had planned.
Kathryn stepped over to the small desk in her chamber. She pulled paper from the drawer, shuffling around for a quill.
Thomas,
Cranmer has told the king. Henry came to me with a warrant but I refused to sign. I am afraid I have sealed my fate. Do not feel tied to your obligation dearest heart. Please, take leave while you still can.
-K
She folded the parchment delicately and sealed it with her ring. A page boy stood ready by her door.
“Take this directly to Thomas Culpeper.” She told him quietly, slipping the note into his hand. “Let no one see you.”
Kathryn sank into a chair by the fire in her rooms. She completely was alone for the first time since becoming queen. Her ladies had been dismissed, along with her musicians and courtiers. She had been sent to Syon, which felt far from the king, from the court. Henry rarely visited her here. The sight of her was simply too much to bear. Kathryn had come accustomed to sitting herself by the fire for hours at a time, simply waiting.
She wanted a bath but there was no one to call. Her thick aburn hair stuck to the sweat on the back of her neck. The French hood she wore felt heavy upon her head. With one swift movement she removed it and shook the locks free from their confine. Kathryn stood, moving to stand in front of the glass mirror beside her bed. Her hair hung well below her waist, falling into graceful waves near the bottom. Her dark eyes reflected the flickering fire light almost devilishly. People had always told her she closely resembled another brown eyed Howard girl. One whose beauty was most remembered in her mysterious, bewitching features and waspish manner. Her late cousin, Anne Boleyn, was never mentioned before the king. But it was she that Kathryn so mirrored.
Her temperament was as equally comparable. Had Kathryn lived in the early court, she would have been Anne’s rival in flirtation and wit. She smiled wryly at her reflection. It had been Anne’s flirtation and sharp tongue that had led her to the scaffold. Kathryn touched her hand to her thin neck, her pearls bumping softly against her pulse.
A light knock on the door shook Kathryn from her vigil. She paused to straiten her skirts, making sure they cascaded elegantly to the floor. Her tightly laced bodice was pulled down invitingly on the chance the knock was the summons of her husband.
“Enter” Kathryn said, positioning herself on the edge of the window seat, an opened bible in her lap.
It was the page. Kathryn forgot her elegance in an instant, standing quickly, letting the bible fall to the floor. The page boy rested his eyes upon the crumpled book before raising them to the queens. With a short bow he handed her a folded note. She broke the seal before looking at it and read its contents. The color drained from Kathryn’s face. It was her own writing scrawled across the parchment.
“Your Grace,” began the page hesitantly “Thomas Culpeper, he’s been taken to the tower. He awaits the council now.”
Turning back to the window, she touched the cold pane of glass. The royal barge was being readied in the river.
\'So this is what it comes to,\' she thought, \'I will be just like Anne.\'
“ ‘I heard say the executioner was very good, and I have a little neck!’ “ Kathryn whispered. Anne had kept her sharp wit until death. Kathryn touched the pearls on her neck again. They were cold.
* * *
Thomas Culpeper stood before the council. The king looked enormous along side Archbishop Cranmer, whose thin body seemed shunted aside by Henrys enormous girth. His piggy eyes were squinted, mouth drawn into a tight scowl, arms crossed atop his large belly. To his left sat Sir Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk and Earl of Hertford. He had a shrewd appearance. He carried himself with the Howard confidence and coolness. His eyes were dark and penetrating, his mouth frozen in a permanent sneer.
“Thomas Culpeper of Bedgebery,” Cranmer’s voice rang through the room “You have brought to the council under charges of adultery and improper relations with her majesty Queen Kathryn.”
Thomas stood still. If he did not speak, it would be his death.
\"Gentlemen,\" he pleaded, \"do not seek to know more than that the King deprived me of: the thing I love best in the world, and, though you may hang me for it, she loves me as well as I love her, though up to this hour no wrong has ever passed between us. Before the King married her, I thought to make her my wife; and when I saw her lost to me, I was like to die, as you all know how ill I was. The Queen saw my sorrow and showed me favor, and when I saw it, tempted by the devil, I dared one day while dancing to give her a letter, and received a reply from her in two days, telling me she would find a way to comply with my wish. I know nothing more, my lords, on my honor as a gentleman.\" He felt he had finish lamely. A sardonic look passed between Henry and Hertford.
\"You have said quite enough, Culpeper,\" Hertford commented, \"to lose your head.\"
* * *
Kathryn was freezing. She had a thick cloak drawn around her shoulders but without a fire in the room, the chilly February air permeated every crevice of her being. There was no glass in the windows of the tower, rather, tall slits in the wall overlooking the tower green. A scaffold had been erected below her window. A small crowd stood gathered around it, watching the man on the platform, kneeling with his head on the block. A drum roll shattered the silence. The man below elevated his arms in accent. Kathryn shut her eyes when she saw the headsman raise his axe. There was a sickening thud, two more followed. There was a soft rustle as the head dislocated and fell into the straw below the block. She heard the crowd cheer. Icy tears fell down her cheeks, Thomas was dead.
“Behold the head of a traitor!\" bellowed the headsman over the nauseating cheers of the crowd.
A guard opened the door behind Kathryn.
“Your turn.” Was all he said.
Kathryn wiped away her tears and followed the guard out of her cell.
* * *
The crowd watched silently as Kathryn climbed the steps to the scaffold. Her black dress billowed like a shroud in the wind. She was graceful as a bird, head held high, a true mirror of the Howard ego. She stood in the middle of the platform. Her lady in waiting walked behind her, ready to tie the thin white blindfold about her eyes. Kathryn shifted quickly. She stepped forward raising her voice and yelling wildly,
\"I die a Queen, but I would rather die the wife of Culpeper! God have mercy on my soul. Good people, I beg you pray for me.\" She fell to her knees, all elements of grace leaving as she broke into tears. Her lady rushed to her, pulling her up by the arms and moving her to stand in front of the block. Kathryn shook violently as the blindfold was placed over her eyes. She kneeled and bowed her head. The drum roll seemed to match her heartbeat which thudded violently against her ribs. It stopped as suddenly as it began. It was over.
Keep in mind this is a historical FICTION...
r/r please!!!!!
No Other Will Than His
It was as if she was poised for a dance, standing in the middle of dark room. But she was alone. No music broke the silence. He did not extend his hand and call for a volte. The man before her had no youth left in him. Traces of good looks were hidden behind the bulges of skin that covered his jaw line. His rosebud mouth was pulled into a tight frown. Henry stood, silhouette in the door way. A sheet of parchment lay crumpled at the floor in front of him.
“You have made a grave mistake madam.” He spat, and bustled out of the room.
Kathryn stood still in the middle of the floor, her hands clasped. Her grace did not waver in the fierce aura of her husband. Very few people could scare her, and Henry, King of England was not one of them. Only months before she had had the king in the palm of her hand. He believed her to be no less than perfect, under his own pretense of course.
\'The silly, simpering beast.\' she thought. This was not what she had wanted. No, this is not at all what she had planned.
Kathryn stepped over to the small desk in her chamber. She pulled paper from the drawer, shuffling around for a quill.
Thomas,
Cranmer has told the king. Henry came to me with a warrant but I refused to sign. I am afraid I have sealed my fate. Do not feel tied to your obligation dearest heart. Please, take leave while you still can.
-K
She folded the parchment delicately and sealed it with her ring. A page boy stood ready by her door.
“Take this directly to Thomas Culpeper.” She told him quietly, slipping the note into his hand. “Let no one see you.”
Kathryn sank into a chair by the fire in her rooms. She completely was alone for the first time since becoming queen. Her ladies had been dismissed, along with her musicians and courtiers. She had been sent to Syon, which felt far from the king, from the court. Henry rarely visited her here. The sight of her was simply too much to bear. Kathryn had come accustomed to sitting herself by the fire for hours at a time, simply waiting.
She wanted a bath but there was no one to call. Her thick aburn hair stuck to the sweat on the back of her neck. The French hood she wore felt heavy upon her head. With one swift movement she removed it and shook the locks free from their confine. Kathryn stood, moving to stand in front of the glass mirror beside her bed. Her hair hung well below her waist, falling into graceful waves near the bottom. Her dark eyes reflected the flickering fire light almost devilishly. People had always told her she closely resembled another brown eyed Howard girl. One whose beauty was most remembered in her mysterious, bewitching features and waspish manner. Her late cousin, Anne Boleyn, was never mentioned before the king. But it was she that Kathryn so mirrored.
Her temperament was as equally comparable. Had Kathryn lived in the early court, she would have been Anne’s rival in flirtation and wit. She smiled wryly at her reflection. It had been Anne’s flirtation and sharp tongue that had led her to the scaffold. Kathryn touched her hand to her thin neck, her pearls bumping softly against her pulse.
A light knock on the door shook Kathryn from her vigil. She paused to straiten her skirts, making sure they cascaded elegantly to the floor. Her tightly laced bodice was pulled down invitingly on the chance the knock was the summons of her husband.
“Enter” Kathryn said, positioning herself on the edge of the window seat, an opened bible in her lap.
It was the page. Kathryn forgot her elegance in an instant, standing quickly, letting the bible fall to the floor. The page boy rested his eyes upon the crumpled book before raising them to the queens. With a short bow he handed her a folded note. She broke the seal before looking at it and read its contents. The color drained from Kathryn’s face. It was her own writing scrawled across the parchment.
“Your Grace,” began the page hesitantly “Thomas Culpeper, he’s been taken to the tower. He awaits the council now.”
Turning back to the window, she touched the cold pane of glass. The royal barge was being readied in the river.
\'So this is what it comes to,\' she thought, \'I will be just like Anne.\'
“ ‘I heard say the executioner was very good, and I have a little neck!’ “ Kathryn whispered. Anne had kept her sharp wit until death. Kathryn touched the pearls on her neck again. They were cold.
* * *
Thomas Culpeper stood before the council. The king looked enormous along side Archbishop Cranmer, whose thin body seemed shunted aside by Henrys enormous girth. His piggy eyes were squinted, mouth drawn into a tight scowl, arms crossed atop his large belly. To his left sat Sir Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk and Earl of Hertford. He had a shrewd appearance. He carried himself with the Howard confidence and coolness. His eyes were dark and penetrating, his mouth frozen in a permanent sneer.
“Thomas Culpeper of Bedgebery,” Cranmer’s voice rang through the room “You have brought to the council under charges of adultery and improper relations with her majesty Queen Kathryn.”
Thomas stood still. If he did not speak, it would be his death.
\"Gentlemen,\" he pleaded, \"do not seek to know more than that the King deprived me of: the thing I love best in the world, and, though you may hang me for it, she loves me as well as I love her, though up to this hour no wrong has ever passed between us. Before the King married her, I thought to make her my wife; and when I saw her lost to me, I was like to die, as you all know how ill I was. The Queen saw my sorrow and showed me favor, and when I saw it, tempted by the devil, I dared one day while dancing to give her a letter, and received a reply from her in two days, telling me she would find a way to comply with my wish. I know nothing more, my lords, on my honor as a gentleman.\" He felt he had finish lamely. A sardonic look passed between Henry and Hertford.
\"You have said quite enough, Culpeper,\" Hertford commented, \"to lose your head.\"
* * *
Kathryn was freezing. She had a thick cloak drawn around her shoulders but without a fire in the room, the chilly February air permeated every crevice of her being. There was no glass in the windows of the tower, rather, tall slits in the wall overlooking the tower green. A scaffold had been erected below her window. A small crowd stood gathered around it, watching the man on the platform, kneeling with his head on the block. A drum roll shattered the silence. The man below elevated his arms in accent. Kathryn shut her eyes when she saw the headsman raise his axe. There was a sickening thud, two more followed. There was a soft rustle as the head dislocated and fell into the straw below the block. She heard the crowd cheer. Icy tears fell down her cheeks, Thomas was dead.
“Behold the head of a traitor!\" bellowed the headsman over the nauseating cheers of the crowd.
A guard opened the door behind Kathryn.
“Your turn.” Was all he said.
Kathryn wiped away her tears and followed the guard out of her cell.
* * *
The crowd watched silently as Kathryn climbed the steps to the scaffold. Her black dress billowed like a shroud in the wind. She was graceful as a bird, head held high, a true mirror of the Howard ego. She stood in the middle of the platform. Her lady in waiting walked behind her, ready to tie the thin white blindfold about her eyes. Kathryn shifted quickly. She stepped forward raising her voice and yelling wildly,
\"I die a Queen, but I would rather die the wife of Culpeper! God have mercy on my soul. Good people, I beg you pray for me.\" She fell to her knees, all elements of grace leaving as she broke into tears. Her lady rushed to her, pulling her up by the arms and moving her to stand in front of the block. Kathryn shook violently as the blindfold was placed over her eyes. She kneeled and bowed her head. The drum roll seemed to match her heartbeat which thudded violently against her ribs. It stopped as suddenly as it began. It was over.