King Henry will never let me live, not after this. The men are tying me into a saddle before we set off for London. The saddle is uncomfortable, and the rope digs into me. We pass through the English countryside, trotting along instead of galloping. People come out of their homes to see me—not that they know who I am. We stop at old abbeys that still have their roofs intact, but I am in a single room that reminds me of a cell. I barely get enough to eat and drink and find myself almost slipping from my saddle.

I have failed to kill the King of England. Regicide is one of the worst crimes someone can commit—I will get executed once I reach London. Will I even get a trial? How many times will I die for this crime?

I try to remain strong. There is a chance I could see Mum again. She'll get released soon, so we'll at least have a few months together. We make many overnight stops along the way, but it is not long until we reach London. The last place I am staying in is Syon Abbey. This is where I thought Katheryn Howard would stay for months before the Privy Council and the King decide what to do with her—but that will not happen.

Like everywhere else, I'm held in a tiny room and barely given anything to nourish myself with. This better not go on for much longer. I don't want to resort to my powers. As I sit in the dark, I think about what I could have done differently. If only I lied back in 1531. Things wouldn't be as difficult as they are now, and my friends wouldn't be on the run.

But thinking "if only" can only do so much, and I am not going down that rabbit hole.

That is when I remember kissing Catalina the day we parted. Had William seen it? Oh, great. If he had, would he want to be with me in the future? I touch the wrist my bracelet used to be on, and I remember I gave it to Catalina. There is no way I can get out of this.

In the morning, we travel by barge to the Tower. I arrive via Traitor's Gate, despite not being condemned as a traitor. The Yeoman Warders are wearing bright red uniforms that almost blind me. I blink, get used to the colour, and step out of the barge. No matter what happens next, I will retain my dignity. The Yeoman Warders do not talk to me, and neither does William Kingston, the constable. They lead me to a cell, and Kingston opens it. I walk inside and listen to the keys jingle in the lock.

Time passes differently when you are imprisoned—or that is true in Tudor England. The days blend into each other, and I can only tell whether it is day or night. I am given food and water, but not enough of either. People talk to me outside my cell, but I never answer. The smell of wee and poo, something that once disgusted me, becomes normal. All my clothes, except for my shift and kirtle, are removed.

I rest my head against the stone wall and sigh. I've lost count of the days. No one comes to question me or anything. Surely something like that should've happened by now? Maybe King Henry doesn't have anyone around him he trusts anymore. Considering we took More, Cranmer, and Cromwell, there are few people he will rely on now.

Someone unlocks my door, and I look over to see Mr Kingston. "Leave us," another voice says. He sounds commanding.
"Your Majesty, I cannot—"
"LEAVE US!" King Henry bellows. Mr Kingston bows and hurries away. King Henry opens the door and steps inside.

I do not get up or curtsey. King Henry shakes his head. "You see what happens when you go against history. We are rounding up your friends as we speak."
I look away from him and close my eyes. Why is he not blowing up at me? Why is he not ordering my death warrant?
"We will question you all in time, you can count on that. Already, we have your mother's confession. She admitted you all want to kill me—why? I thought you were going to follow history?"
"Just order my death already."
"What?"
I stand up and glare at him. "You may have not realised it, sir—"
"Your Majesty!"
"But predicting the death of the king is treason, punishable by death. Mum already told your advisors everything, so you can easily kill me now." My legs start shaking, and I sit down. A bell starts ringing, and I turn my face to the window. Sunlight is streaming in, and I close my eyes.

"The problem with killing you all is that I will then go against history, at least, from what the Doctor told me."
I growl. I didn't want that man getting involved! He is stupid for warning the king like this. I hope my friends are on their way to Scotland and can make it to relative safety.
"You should tell me what led to this conclusion. What made you think it was all right to kill me?"
King Henry will not leave anytime soon. Should I humour him? If I am going to be a prisoner, I will take whatever freedom I have.

I don't say anything.

King Henry walks up to me and strikes me. I fall to the floor and throw my hands out. "This is the reason why," I snap. "You are uncontrollable."
"No king can be controlled!"
I grin at him, but I don't feel happy. Anger courses through my veins, and all I want to do is punish the man who put me here. But I have very little power. What can I do against him?

My powers. I stand up. "You are going to regret harming my friends."
"You and which army?"
"I don't need an army." I align my hand and push through my kirtle and into my body. I pull my stomach out.

Instead of it glowing red, like every other time I had it out, it is glowing blue. What? Is something wrong with me? Should I ask Mum about it?

Wait, no, I cannot do that. She is imprisoned here too. But if everything goes to plan, we could both escape. Everyone in the country could be free.

I let go of my stomach, and it blocks the door. "Now, you are going to answer my questions." I begin circling the king. "Why are you determined to execute Anne Boleyn and Katheryn Howard?"
"What? I—I know not what you talk about!"
"Why do you want a male heir instead of letting Mary or Elizabeth take the throne?"
"I must have a son to succeed me! You might come from another era, but in this time, if a woman takes the throne, it will lead to anarchy and chaos!"
I laugh and shake my head. "Both of your daughters will take the throne since your son will die without any heirs." The king starts spluttering. "In fact, by my time, we had seven queens! Sure, one only ruled for nine days, but seven queens! And two of them are your daughters!"

King Henry rises to his feet. "If this is all supposed to happen, and I am meant to have a son, why are you trying to kill me?"
I open my mouth and stop. Should I tell him what will happen? It might not hurt anyone. "You will become a tyrant and execute around seventy-two thousand people."
"Seventy-two thousand?" King Henry sits down again. "But why?"
"Mostly due to rules you put in place, such as people refusing to accept Anne as queen, people being Catholic or Protestant, there's quite a list."

King Henry closes his eyes. "It..."
I don't think I've ever seen him at a loss for words. But there is nothing I can say to comfort him. He is the one who will bring this darkness and terror. I should not comfort a monster.
"I am going to be a monster."
"Yes, yes you will be."

The strangest thing happens. King Henry starts laughing. "At least I know you will be honest with me, Mistress Smith-White."
"I've got nothing to lose." I shrug. I start laughing as well.

It takes a few minutes for us to calm down. "Maybe I should keep you around," King Henry says.
"So you can keep an eye on me?"
"No, nothing of the sort!" He jumps up and twirls me around. Why would he do that? This monarch is seriously making me confused. "You seem to be the sort of person no one will want to anger."
"You're right about that. Some of the people who angered me wound up dead."

King Henry gives me a look but doesn't say anything. "Anyway," I say, "am I going to be locked up here for long, or am I going to be executed?"
"Did you not hear what I said? I want to keep you around. Besides, if some of the people that angered you ended up dead, I do not want to take the chance."
I laugh and nod. "I can see why you think that, but you already angered me so much that I honestly consider it at times."

King Henry's mouth falls open. Maybe I shouldn't have admitted that to the King of England. "Sorry, I—"
"I think we both know that you are not sorry."
I sigh and nod. I guess I'll be locked up for longer. King Henry begins walking towards the door. He stops when he realises I'm not following. "Well, Mistress Smith-White? Are you coming?"
"Where are we going?"
"We are going to Court."

I glare at the author. "What the hell?" I demand. "I was happy with killing Henry VIII, and you do this?"
"It's my story. I'm the writer."
"It's my life; I live it." We stare at each other for several moments.
The author shakes her head. "I don't feel comfortable going against history."
"Isn't that what fanfiction is about?" I turn and walk away. "I guess I'll just make the best of it, but you better give me a happy ending once this is over."