The heavy curtains were drawn tightly across the windows stopping any sunlight that attempted to leak through. Candles, flickering dimly in the corner of the room, provided the only meager amount of light necessary for doctor William Butts to see. In a giant bed placed in the middle of the even greater chambers, lay his patient, King Henry VIII.
William wiped his brow as he turned back to the sputtering man. The King coughed ferociously, the very sound seeming to reverberate through his spine, and then collapsed unceremoniously into his pillows. His eyelids flickered rapidly, and he seemed to murmur something unrecognizable under his breath, before quickly falling back into a stupor of unconsciousness.
Taking a damp cloth, William wiped the sweat away from the King's drenched forehead. This, as all of his other actions that evening, were done with no hope of saving the man. You did not have to be a physician to see that the King was on his deathbed. In fact, his final confession had already been administered days before. He knew, as well as anyone else, that all attempts to extend his life now were merely ceremonious; as things were, it would be nothing short of a miracle if the King managed to survive the night at all.
As he grabbed another clean cloth, William glanced down to the foot of the bed where the King's leg lay limp. He had tried to wrap it before, but the King had groaned in such protest that he was forced to stop. In fact, it seemed that any contact with the large boils running up his skin caused him the most immense pain. It was William's professional opinion that his Majesty was suffering from an extreme case of gout, no doubt caused by the jousting incident many years ago.
While William had never known the King before his accident, the descriptions he had heard in no way matched the sight before him now. What was evidently once handsome and beautiful, was now hidden under mounds of thick skin and red blisters. The kind defender of the faith, had grown to be a lecherous man. And, a formerly sharp mind, had been reduced to a pile of mush. He found himself to be shocked by the notion that he, a mere doctor, was looking down at an anointed King with pity.
As if he could read his thoughts, the King began to stir. He panted heavily, and then opened his eyes with such ferocity that William almost startled back. He seemed to scrutinize him for a moment, and then furrowed his brows deeply.
"Doctor." The King spoke with surprising clarity. "Where is my wife?"
William, still aghast with shock, sputtered for a moment before clearing his throat to answer. "Your Majesty, Queen Catherine resides in her chambers with your children." "They had already come to see you earlier." He added on quickly when he saw the anger only amassing further onto the King's features.
"No." He spoke. "Catherine is gone. I meant the Queen Anne."
William sat still in surprise, not sure of how to respond to the heaviness of the words. Was the King's mind truly so far gone that he thought himself to still be married to that woman. In the past years her name was only mentioned in the smallest of whispers, all most careful not to catch the King's ear, and certainly not with the title of Queen next to it.
"Your Majesty." He chose his words carefully. "Queen Anne is dead, remember? She passed some years ago." William said, deciding to leave the fact that he had ordered her execution out.
The King's forehead creased.
"Dead?"
"Is that so?" He murmured. "Is that so?"
This sentence was repeated a few times until he eventually fell back into a fitful sleep, leaving only the stunned doctor behind to mull over his words.
It was a mere two hours later that his body seemed to become peaceful, and the last bit of life in King Henry VIII was gone.
When William was called to report to the Queen, he decided not to mention the fact that her husband's final breath was used to say the name of another woman.
A/N
The idea for this story was given to me by an anonymous comment on my previous work. I know it's been a long time, but I had actually been planning to write it for a while, I just didn't have the inspiration. Also keep in mind that this is only the prologue, the following chapters will be longer and in the point of view of Henry. I had initially debated whether or not to write his pov for this chapter, but then decided I found it more interesting to write when it came from an outside source. I only hope that it translated well. As for the next update, I'm not sure when it will be. Maybe in a week, maybe more. Whenever I have the time and inspiration. Again thank you so much for reading, your comments and suggestions are always appreciated.