Chapter 3: For Mary
Breathe, Kenna told herself. Just breathe.
Every nerve in her body was shaking. For Scotland, she told herself. This is for Scotland. For Mary. For justice in a cruel world.
She reached Henry's chambers. Her palms were sweating. Two guards barred the door.
"The King is not in his chambers Lady Kenna," one said.
"He asked me to wait for him." The lie came out easily. But then again, perhaps everyone was liars in court. The guards moved out of the way and let her in. She shut the doors with a snap, slightly satisfied at how easy it was to get into the King's chambers. But the feeling dissipated when she remembers her nights here. The feel of Henry on top of her; the way she suffocated like a coalminer from the weight of him; the starch of strange smelling sheets, and his rough hands, clawing, crawling all over her skin.
It's all in the past, she thought, pushing the horrid memories away. He can't hurt me anymore.
Kenna walked around the room, jerking open every draw and searching through their contents, looking under ever cushion, desk and surface. She rapped her fingers against the wall, leaning against its solid frame to settle her trembling, thinking about all the places the contract could be. Where did you put the contract, Henry? Where did you put it?
She suddenly noticed a large chest pushed against the far wall. She ran over to it and fumbled with the key, and lifted the large lid with a huff.
She looked through the ubiquitous papers. There it was. The damn contract that put Scotland at risk. She had done it. For Scotland. For Mary. She folded the paper, when she suddenly heard footsteps and then, "Your majesty." The footsteps got closer.
Kenna slammed the chest shut and shoved the contract into her bra.
She stood up, and soothed down her dress. Remain calm. Breathe. Just breathe.
But it was so hard to breathe. She was scared. So very scared.
Her breath caught in her throat as Henry burst into the room.
An expression of confusion crossed his face, followed instantly by an expression of understanding.
"I know why you're here," he declared, striding into the room.
Kenna's heart sank.
"You do?" she whispered.
He strode over to her and pulled her into his embrace. His breath smelt like whiskey.
"You miss me."
Bravely, Kenna tilted her head. "Yes," she murmured back in her most flirtatious voice. "I miss you."
His lips came crashing down on hers. Hard and aggressive. Kenna wanted to scream but she kissed him back. She felt his hands run all over her body as if she were a piece of meat.
King Henry backed her against the wall as his hands made their way beneath her skirt. As long as he doesn't get into my bra, all is good, thought Kenna. As long as the contract remains in my possession, I can put up with the King. It is for Scotland. For Mary.
Kenna knew she was a pawn in a chess game called life.
Kenna tried to take her mind away from Henry's rough hands. She leant against the wall, willing herself to calm down. And then suddenly a strange calmness washed over her. She had reached the point when she'd been through so much heartache, that she turned numb. She didn't want to feel anymore, so she turned her emotions off. She pushed them away. She didn't care what people thought about her anymore. There was no guilt. No anger. There was no hatred. No shame. There was no grief. No sadness. There was no fear. Henry had pressed her against the wall and there was absolutely no fear.
Kenna pretended to enjoy the feel of his hands, but thought sadly: This is how my life will always be. I feel nothing anymore.
But the fear returned when she left his chambers. She was shaking like a leaf. She had given the contract to Mary. She had done it. Saved Scotland. For Mary. But then why did she feel so empty? Like there was a hole inside her heart that nothing would ever fill. She reached her own chambers and stepped inside. She barely registered that Bash was there until he spoke in a harsh voice.
"The King's chambers?"
Her head snapped up. "Excuse me?"
"Do you deny you were there?"
Kenna nearly laughed. Oh how, rumours travelled quickly. People must gossip about me continuously. She couldn't tell if this made her feel happy or sad. In fact, she didn't know what she felt anymore.
Across the room, Bash was staring at her angrily; his intense eyes turned into narrow slits. Finally, after a few minutes, Kenna managed to calm herself and found her voice.
"We didn't actually have sex."
"I don't want to calibrate the exact inch you stopped," yelled Bash. "We had an agreement."
"I remember," said Kenna sharply. "I also remember you jumping very high to answer Mary's beckoning call."
"So you visiting my father is a form of childish payback?" said Bash, "Or payment for what?"
Kenna rounded on him; her temper irate.
"You think I went to the King's chambers for fun. He's lost his mind. I was terrified the whole time I was with him." Her words surprised her, because for once they were honest. She was being honest with him. He didn't deserve her honest. He didn't deserve her.
"Then why did you go to him?" said Bash.
"For Mary," Kenna retorted. "My Queen. She asked me to find a secret document that put my country at risk."
Shock filtered across Bash's face. "Mary sent you into the lion's den?" he asked.
"She asked and I agreed," said Kenna. "I know you don't think I notice anything that's not a pretty dress or jewel but strangely enough I give a damn about my country. Henry came in just as I found the paper and there was nothing I could do. I couldn't tell him why I was really there." Kenna shivered at the memory, but they she looked at Bash; tears welling in her eyes. "His very touch makes me ill." Kenna didn't even recognize her own voice. She sounded like a scared little girl. She sounded broken.
"I'm sorry," croaked Bash and Kenna saw that he actually meant it. But sorry was just a word. It wasn't really anything. Everything wasn't really anything.
"My country was at stake," continued Kenna, "but what was at stake when Mary bashed her eyelids and you rushed over to be her true and gentle knight. You'll never be that knight for me. You'll be my husband but never that." Kenna suddenly realised she was crying, but she didn't care. She let the tears rake down her cheeks, leaving a stinging sensation in their wake.
"Stop," said Bash harshly. He strode across the room and sat down in an old armchair. He looked like he was a man that endured a hundred sleepless nights. Maybe he had.
"This marriage is based on nothing," she whispered.
She turned and looked at Bash.
"What a pair my father tied together for a lifetime," said Bash.
"Please don't talk about your father to me," said Kenna.
"Then stop bringing up Mary in every argument we have."
"But don't you see," cried Kenna. "Everything is for Mary. Everything you do is for Mary. Everything I do is for Mary. Everything the world does is for Mary. She is Queen and we are nothing."
"Kenna –"
"Don't bother Bash," she said. "We are who we are. Nothing's going to change that. We are husband and wife, but I've seen that way you look at me; I see the way you look at me now, you don't like me. But that's okay. As long as we both on Mary's side, that's okay."
Kenna stared at him, letting the tears come fully.
"Kenna –"
"I'm going for a walk –"
"Kenna –"
Kenna left their chambers without a backwards glance. Bash let her go. He sat in the old armchair all night, waiting to hear the creak of the chamber doors to open; for Kenna to return, but all he heard all was the sound of rain splatting against the window.
Someone out there was crying.
And the world was crying too.
