Drunken Hopes

~o~

"And I am yet drunk and I am still doing this, ha, ha, ha." ~ Me

There was once the story of Cinderella but like all stories the story of Cinderella does not end with they lived happily ever after. After the ever after there is a dark part you never hear of. You sure you want to hear? Are you man enough, woman enough to hear it?

Can you handle the dirty little details?

Because what I have to tell you is the story of the true Cinderella, a sister who put her ambitions above her own family, her own sister and unlike the happy Cinderella of that waste story you are told at night, this Cinderella ended a head shorter.

Yes it is one of those stories ...

Where to begin the? Born in 1501, oh wait, no my parents would say 1516, to entice the King, entice the population as the youthful commoner who trapped the King and ensnared him away from his rightful wife, but the truth is seldom so pretty.

I did get the King in my bed but we were married by then and I was not a manipulative witch as the tale of the evil stepmother, yes there is another tale that fits in here but that is a story for another time; would have you believe to my stepdaughter.

I really tried to make Mary understand. In my heart I knew she was a rightful Princess but so was my daughter and my daughter was more Tudor than any children Katherine or the Princess Dowager gave him or could have given him. My daughter had beautiful flakes of gold in her hair but her hair turned a rich auburn once she was one, it was clear to everyone she was a Tudor, she was the lion's cub.

My Prince charming, my lord and master was so happy when he saw her, she was his little Princess. His little Bess, named after his mother whom he said his little Bess reminded him so much of.

Then there came our boy, what a beautiful boy he was -at least in my dreams. When he was born people would cheer him, people would celebrate his triumph for days but as in real life, fairy tales and happily ever afters are seldom true. When my son was born it was a tragedy, he was dead before I miscarried. That is two children, only one alive, we were still young. I told my husband, we could still have more children.

Then there came the baby, the baby that could have been my savior. I miscarried him after my husband injured himself in the jousting. I was so fearful for him. Like any devoted wife I stayed day and night praying but I fell sick and because of my fears I miscarried my savior. I lost our child, our beautiful boy who turned out not to be so beautiful.

Henry whispers in his councilors ears our marriage was a sin before God. I wonder where have we heard that before? And the sooner he was rid of me the better.

I write to you of this in anger, in sadness knowing that you will never hear my side of the story, knowing that I never succeeded in this area.

I was once a Princess in my father's arms, he would swing me and my mother would sing to me but when my mother turned to the ugly stepmother and my father to the ambitious man you hear of right now, my life crumbled into pieces. I was made to serve, to please, I could not say no. When my uncle and my lord father asked me for a request I obeyed. Getting in the King's path was no different, but I fell for my own ambition and my own dreams and hopes of a future where I would be Queen Supreme. I fell in love.

No sooner was the crown put on my head did I stop living in the real world, I was living in a dream and I could have lived in it forever had it not been for that single failure, that mistake that condemned me.


A/N: Thanks to everyone who's supported me. Good wishes to everyone.