Royal Despair

Conspiracy was afoot. Mary didn't know how she knew, but she knew. Her father had instilled in her that ability, to just "know" things. "The crown is heavy and wearing it tiresome." He would say.

The door opened and jerked Mary from her thoughts. The maids entered in their typically military-style fashion. Mary smiled at them, not because she was happy to see them - no - it was because they were normal. And normality was lacking in her kingdom these days.

"Good morning," She replied as the maidens greeted her. Then she realized it was court day, she sighed, court day was so ...she struggled for the word...pointless. Holding court was no longer fun. To her, so long into her reign now, it was like taking out the kingdom's trash.

As Mary made her way down the hall, the feeling of dread grew. Entering her private chamber, she was shocked at the scene before her. Men wearing the uniform of English soldiers filled the room.

As she advanced, the man sitting behind her desk quickly stood up.

He didn't speak, no one did. He unrolled a scroll and began to read the declaration, "You are hereby ordered by royal decree to be executed on this day without delay."

Before she could utter a protest, Mary was seized. The men dragged her down the hall and through the yard as she continued to protest. She screamed for her aides, but no reply came. Her blood ran cold as she saw the hooded executioner waiting for her. She shivered at the sight. "They will not take my dignity," She thought and walked up the steps, tall and proud.

The axe arched and the thud came. And Mary, Queen of Scots, lay headless; her last drops of royal blood glistening in the morning sun.