Prologue

The last few nights were bad. I slipped in and out of consciousness, often experiencing hallucinations. I was rarely sure of what was real and, with my weakened and rapidly deteriorating state, I was never to be left alone. Death was near, I felt it.

Even the moments with Catherine by my side, it was difficult to distinguish between hallucination and reality. Such was the state of confusion I was in. Not only because of the regularity of her visits, but because what happened went beyond boundaries even we'd tested before.

Her last visit, she came in and dismissed the servants. The moment we were alone her armour dropped as she focused on her mission. Even in my weakened state, it was impossible not to take notice. She was determined, impatient and, most of all, desperate. It was a state I'd witnessed her in often, but she becomes a force to be reckoned with. When you had the strength, which I no longer possessed.

Normally she was so careful with me, so gentle. This time she sat by me, taking my hand and shook me slightly, rousing me. She needed me awake.

'Charity, sit up. You need to drink this.' She was quiet at first, her tone still gentle.

My lips were parched and I craved water, but I could smell the liquid and it wasn't natural.

'It will help,' she assured me. 'But you need to drink it all. Now. Sit up.'

Her tone now more insistent. Realisation hit me.

'It's a potion.' I said. I wasn't familiar with this one and I knew the contents of her apothecary fairly well. Could it be…. Was dark magic involved? I'd learned it was usually best never to ask questions, but…

I was hesitant. We'd spoken about it before, not just because it was heresy, but with an extremely dangerous measure. Catherine had determined the use of those potions shows the mark of true desperation and I didn't want her marked in the eyes of Gods and be damned for eternity. What she did in her role as Queen was one thing, but to risk this for me, even with what we were to each other, was another matter.

Not that what we were had ever been acknowledged. Not really. Nothing had ever been spoken.

So yes, I was hesitant.

But during my illness she had risked so much. With each visit she looked more broken and desolate when she laid eyes on me. I hated her having to see me this way, I was so weak and felt myself losing any sense of hope.

'Drink. It will save you.'

'At what cost?'

'That doesn't matter, Charity!' she spoke with desperation now.

'I can't risk losing you.'

'Catherine, it's hopeless. I'm dying.'

'You have to try.' She urged me. 'Please, for me.'

Her eyes shimmered with the threat of tears as she pleaded with me. Suddenly I was overcome with my love for her. Even facing my last hours of life, what broke me was to see her in such pain. I couldn't not try. I had to, for me.

She stayed there, clasping my hand in hers, watching me slip into sedation. She prayed this would work.

I nodded and she slipped her hand behind my neck, helping me raise my head until my lips reached the cup. I drank every last last sip of the liquid, then lay back, gasping as she wiped my mouth with a rag.

'Catherine, what was that?'

'Don't worry about that.' she hushed me, taking my hand.

'Some risks you have to be prepared to take. I know those I'm prepared for.'

I tried to say something, felt a need to, but the poison included a strong sleeping draught and it took me quickly.

to be continued...