By now rumours had spread through the castle, much like the poison had spread through my veins. Everyone knew of my condition and the severity it had reached, not least with the warpath it had set the Queen on. All the staff were on edge, for fear of who she might lash out at next.

Henry, Francis and Bash were discussing the situation when Catherine happened upon them.

'Catherine. How is Lady Charity's condition?' Henry greeted her.

'She's dying.' Catherine snapped. 'She's getting weaker by the hour, as the poison spreads and strengthens inside her and will continue to do so until it completes the job and destroys her entirely.'

An awkward silence followed, as Henry slightly regretted asking.

'So no improvement then.' he noted.

'Not unless either of you have any new information for me.' she directed her attention to Bash.

'The information we have so far is… unreliable. At best. Bash conceded.

'Politically dangerous at worst.' Henry added. This was clearly what they had been discussing when she'd interrupted.

'Catherine, my investigations have led me to believe a noble here at court was behind the poison. I don't have enough evidence yet-'

'You have NO evidence!' Henry barked. 'Suspicions, feelings… these are not evidence.'

'A noble? At court?' Catherine interrupted. 'My court?'

'I'll thank you to remember, my dear, that it is our court.' Henry responded icily. She glared at him.

'Who?'

They remained silent, all of them. Doubtless they were all considering the same suspect, but…

'We have no concrete proof.' Francis reminded her gently. 'Only suspicions.'

Catherine spent hours pondering over her potions. Between her and Nostradamus, there had to be a solution, something they could fashion. Regular potions clearly would not do the trick here. There was no other way, she would have to resort to the dark arts. Heresy or not, what choice did she have?

Nostradamus was, understandably, less keen to go down this route.

'I have less experience with the dark arts. Things are far more likely to go wrong.'

'Then she'll be dead either way, so what difference does it make?' Catherine snapped.

Nostradamus relented. Catherine was not an easy person to reason with, nor was it wise to defy her, but she didn't often fight like this for others, making it difficult to refuse her.

They discussed their best option, as extreme and dangerous as it was. He stressed the importance of understanding the consequences before she began. He would assemble the ingredients, giving her time to make her decision before committing to it.

She wandered about the castle, taking stock of what she was considering. The potion used extreme dark magic to swap one life for another. The life traded was chosen at random, unless they could acquire a personal effect, in which case its owner was the life for a life. It was dangerous and heretical and even aside all that, there was no guarantee it would work. The dark arts were risky and there could be other consequences if things went wrong.

The risk weighed so heavily on her heart, she had to be sure.

She was deep in thought and almost missed a hidden conversation. Until she caught Henry's voice.

'You can't just throw these accusations around,' So livid, he practically spat the words 'Without sufficient evidence-'

'We can't protect him from this, Father!' Bash argued. 'Even without anything tangible, if Catherine gets word of this, there'll be no protecting him from her wrath!'

'Believe me, Father,' Francis tried to reason with him. 'We wouldn't bring this to you if I didn't believe him to be serious.'

'Lady Charity! Of all the people, did it have to be her?' Henry was fuming.

Catherine's instinct was to barge in and demand an explanation, but she forced herself to hold back.

'You're implying he not only intended to poison Lady Charity, but the Queen as well.'

Her hand flew to her mouth in stunned silence.

'I'm not implying it. He all but admitted to it.' Bash insisted.

'What exactly were his words?' Henry's voice was stern.

'He knew of Charity's fondness for the sweets, making her an easy target.' Bash explained. 'And the kitchen was overstaffed, so sneaking them in while they prepared the baskets was overlooked.'

Henry scoffed but Francis persisted.

'Adding them to Mother's basket didn't even prove a challenge after that. The fact that she wasn't going to eat them was her only saving grace.'

'So Catherine escaped by pure chance?' Henry seemed to be accepting this version of events.

'Otherwise he would have accepted her death as collateral damage.' Bash concluded.

'Obviously he assumed they would both take the poison, but that failed because so few people know of Mother's disdain for almonds.' Francis added.

'Is Catherine still in danger?' Henry asked. Her eyes widened in anticipation.

'I don't believe so.' Bash replied.

'Evidently he's decided killing her would be less effective a punishment than watching the woman she… watching Charity's life slip away.' He finished off their looks.

'And all this,' Henry mused 'as retribution for a broken engagement.'

'There's more to it than that.' Francis muttered grimly. 'Something we all know to be true.'

Bash gave his brother a small look of approval.

'But yes.'

Catherine quickly (and quietly) walked away from the room. There was no time to waste. She knew what needed to be done.

'Make sure you keep this quiet from Catherine.' Henry advised. 'Unless you find actual proof. Something we can actually use.'

'Of course.' Francis agreed. 'If she suspects, there'll be no stopping her.'

'Where is he now?'

'Locked-up under guard in his chambers.'

Francis clearly wasn't happy this measure was sufficient.

'It's the best we can do for now.' Bash reminded him. 'But we're working on it.'

Catherine felt the rage return deep within. Her suspicions were now confirmed and she had no choice. Revenge was not always sweet, but sometimes it was necessary.

She found Nostradamus, who'd prepared everything they would need. He didn't need to ask, he could see from her expression that it was time to proceed with the potion.

'Catherine?' he began, doubtful at how to phrase it.

She looked up, glaring at him.

'Are you sure - really sure - this is worth the risk? It is a very dark magic.'

She didn't dignify him with an answer. She didn't need to, he could read the emotion written on her face. It betrayed her silence, as he'd known it would.

What was happening to her? She'd never felt an inexpressible urge like this before. She wasn't sure what was going on inside her, she just knew she was running out of time. If she even wanted the option of figuring it out, now was the time to act.

She clasped the small vial in her hand.

'Your Majesty, please, I must ask if you're sure-'

'It's the only way.'

'It's our best chance. Remember even with this magic, there's never any guarantees.'

'If there's even the slightest chance, I have to try.' she declared.

'I won't lose her. Not without a damned good fight!'

The potion worked and quickly. I slept through the night, awaking as though I'd never been ill. Somewhat disconcerting, but it was more miracle than I could have hoped for.

I was glad to be allowed to return to my chambers, even if the rumours did continue to follow me. Robert Valentine had been found dead in his chambers and no one seemed to know why. Even the court physician could only surmise that his heart had simply stopped. It was unusual, he said, but in his words "such things do happen".

The news unsettled me and I felt an instinct deep within me that I should question it, but I brushed it aside for the moment. The truth was I found it hard to care. One could question both the timing and his suspected involvement with my poisoning, not to mention my relationship with Catherine… but I simply didn't care. For the first time, I really didn't.

I should have. If/when those rumours reached Henry, I would probably be questioned, but I wouldn't betray Catherine. Despite my own suspicions, I would never expose her to that danger, even if it cost me my head. I did see the irony in this, after having only just narrowly escaped my death. But my allegiance was to her and her alone.

I did worry for Catherine, though, about what repercussions she might face. It was near impossible not to. I nearly died. I was very nearly ripped away from her. I knew what that had done to me and I'd seen what it had done to her too. We couldn't keep living this way. Something needed to change, needed to be done.

I'd had sufficient time to think about all this and things had never been clearer to me. I had been near death and suffered from hallucinations, so the worth of my memory was cloudy at best, but there were moments we'd shared. If any of those were real, now was the time to make decisions. To act. If I was wrong, so be it, but if I didn't take a chance now, I might not get the opportunity again. You don't face death without finding new appreciation for all life has to offer.

When she finally came to see me, she took me in her arms and gave me the longest hug.

'How are you recovering?'

'Good as new. Remarkable, in fact, given the circumstances.' Her smile warmed my heart.

'I would have come sooner, but I had a pressing issue to deal with.'

'Lord Valentine? I heard.' I pulled away from her.

'A sad loss.'

'Sad but not entirely unexpected. That potion-'

'Every potion comes with risk. You know that as well as I do.'

'I do. But if the potion pitted my life against Roberts, how can I reconcile myself with the value of my life being placed above his?'

'Because you didn't. I made that choice, I decided your value! Robert was a good man but let's not pretend he was innocent in all this. I wasn't about to let him escape retribution for his actions, not after what he did to you. He won't be missed, but you…'

Her hand flew to her mouth as her voice broke. I reached out to her, but she stopped me.

'Catherine?'

'I told you, I couldn't risk losing you.' her voice barely a whisper, as she tried to control the emotion.

I moved towards her, expecting her to back away. But she didn't. All these walls she built around her were finally cracking, coming down to expose her vulnerability. It was such a rare and precious thing to behold. The last time I'd been witness to it, masked behind the act a desperate woman had taken, prompted when she felt something special to her slipping away. Desperation and bravery, but also conflict because of the heart she wore on her sleeve in my presence. She struggled with it, even if I was the only one who saw it.

I saw it at last, my chance to make something happen. It was my own act of desperation and bravery and, yes, quite possibly insanity. But I took it. I reached out for her, I took her cheek in my palm, wiping the tears away.

She was right. Some risks you have to be prepared to take.

I leaned in and kissed her. It was a simple kiss, small, but it was sure. It was real. As I pulled away to let the moment sink-in, I knew I would never regret it. Whatever happened next, I didn't regret it.

I was glad for that moment of surety, because the expression on her face - a mix of shock and terror - almost made me reconsider it completely. But then I read her eyes, there was so much more going on behind that fear. It's like she was finally allowing herself to open up to the possibility this moment gave. To find out if whatever this thing was between us, was really there.

She responded more easily than I expected her to. She pulled me back in and oh, the feeling of having her kiss me back was more powerful than anything I'd expected. Anything I could have hoped for. It was an odd sensation. I was torn between my rational side thinking "The Queen. I am kissing the Queen" and the emotional side of just enjoying knowing I was kissing Catherine. One cost me my head, the other my heart. I was doomed either way.

But I wasn't stopping and, more importantly, neither was she. It was an incredible feeling, knowing I didn't have to hold back. Something unleashed inside me that I didn't know how long I'd been suppressing. Having escaped the brink of death, kissing her was like coming-up for air.

I couldn't get enough of her, I couldn't stop. My hands were in her hair, my lips exploring her skin down her neck. It was truly intoxicating. Insanity was kicking-in again and I wanted more. I went for her dress, pulling the strings loose.

That was the step that brought her back to reality. She pulled away, her hand coming-up to stop me.

'Wait, stop!' she was breathless, but her tone was firm.

'What is it? Are you okay?'

'I can't.'

She looked dazed, disorientated. Like she could believe what had just happened. What she'd let happen.

'Catherine…'

She shook her head at me.

'Charity, I can't, I'm sorry.'

I took a step back, gathered myself. She was still trembling but I feared even moving again. I offered to re-lace her strings, but she left before I had the chance.

To be continued...