Warning: Bad grammar, since English is not my first language
Disclaimer: The characters belonged to themselves. No offence meant. This is pure fiction and NOT historical fact. Despite that, this fic belongs to me.
Summary: The Lady Elizabeth, Queen Mary I's sister, receives a piece of news that changes her life forever.
Author's notes: The love-hate relationship between Mary and Elizabeth always fascinates me. So, this piece of fiction is inspired by it. Reviews are more than welcome!
I cannot believe my ears.
I stand still, frozen, words escape me.
I know not how to feel. I have been imagining this scene for countless times, but at this moment, when those words of the messenger are pronounced, I fail to react.
Queen Mary I, my half-sister, is dead.
I absent-mindedly take the ring from the messenger, wear it on immediately. I look at it. This is what I want, what I dream of. The throne of England.
Yet, how should I feel?
I know I should at least feign sadness, and so I did. However, I am still shocked. Shocked by Mary's death, shocked by my lack of real emotions.
Should I feel happy? Mary imprisoned me, threatened to kill me, but above all, she was my sister. We had the same father. So, perhaps I should feel relieved.
No, that emotion is not all I am feeling. Instead, there is a part of me that mourns for Mary's death.
Blood is thicker than water. She was my sister. Nothing can change it. Before she was Queen, she was my beloved sister. She cared about me, until everything falls apart.
Yes, there was a time that Mary loved me. I still have the blurry memory that she tended to me when I was very young. Despite how she hated my mother, she sent me gifts and sometimes money when our household was in financial difficulties and my father was unwilling to care about me.
The images of Mary the affectionate sister flash again and again in my mind now, making me unable to just feel glad for that tyrant of a sister's death. That love we shared and an invisible bond between us disable me to feel pure hatred towards Mary, and maybe they forbade Mary from sending me to the scaffold.
Why didn't Mary suspect me and hate me for being Anne Boleyn's daughter from the very beginning? Why did she treat me with kindness and suddenly change to my worst enemy?
Maybe it is true that power corrupts a person, makes them ruthless. From the day she became Queen, Mary was my sister no more.
She forced me to act as a Catholic. She made my life in the last five years a living hell. She imprisoned me in the tower of London and nearly executed me. Those are facts. I will always remember it. They have caused a permanent damage to our relationship. There are no remedies.
Mary's death set me free, give me hopes in life again. I should be grateful of that. Finally I decide on how I should feel. A small part of me may mourn for my poor sister Mary's death, but it should be suppressed by stronger feelings, the relief and happiness I now feel for the end of Queen Mary I's terrible reign and for my newly-gained freedom and position.
I am Elizabeth Tudor, today I am Queen of England.
The mourning for the dead of Mary the kind sister had actually started five years ago and today is for it to end. This is the time to rejoice at the death of Mary the hateful Queen.
As I always dream and hope, I am to be the monarch of this beloved country. I am to be Queen of England.
Overwhelmed by my feelings, I look up to the blue sky, and say, "This is the Lord's doing. It is marvellous in our eyes!"
What I am going to do next is to be remembered by history. I silently vow that I will fight for my own place in it. History will remember me, Queen Elizabeth I of England, for what I would do in my reign, and not only for being Henry VIII's daughter and Mary I's sister.
If power really does corrupt people, I pray to God to keep me away from corruption.
The sunshine warm on my face. The dark, chilly feeling that fills me for so many years is gone. There are hopes again.
I can foresee my bright future, as bright as the sun high up in the sky.The End