Read Online Queenbreaker: Perseverance (The Queenbreaker Trilogy Book 1) by Catherine McCarran - Free Book Online
Authors: Catherine McCarran
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beat twice, once against the water, which then echoed against the
stonework of the bridge. I opened my eyes once the echo stopped.
Ahead
loomed grey sky. I turned to look back at the yellow and blue that had painted
the sky above my house.
Fare thee well London. I hope for a
better sight when I return for Anne’s crowning.
I
turned back around to see the riversides almost divested of the city’s
trappings. We had passed London’s
boundaries and entered the country of Kent.
Anne
was from Kent. I had not visited Hever Castle since I was a babe. I wondered if
she would visit now she was Queen. I would return to Norfolk just once—to
show Emma and Gabrielle my splendor, since I would never have them at court to
see it.
Mist
diffused the view across the water. Swans drifted in and out of sight among the
reeds against the farther bank. I heard nothing beyond the pull of the oars as
London fell away in the fog.
The
air lost its acrid bite of wood fire, sewage, and decay as we flowed downriver.
All of my reference points vanished. The mist grew to a fog so thick we could
not see a barge length in any direction. The beater slowed his count. My heart
slowed with it. Time disappeared.
There was no sooner or later, no forward or back. We floated, suspended on the
water in a cocoon of nothingness.
I
shivered within my cloak. If this was what Orpheus had found when he went to
the Underworld I could not blame him for turning around and losing Eurydice.
I
no longer believed a city called London filled with one hundred thousand souls
stood behind us. Greenwich was a myth.
The
mindless drumbeats echoed from every side. The oars cut the water for no good
purpose.
We’re
not moving! I wanted to shout at them.
Madge
stirred, her eyelids fluttered, but she did not wake. I was alone in my fear.
Suddenly
the mist broke and a blinding rush of sunlight shut my eyes. I blinked them
clear and looked up. Greenwich’s massive red brick façade loomed over me.
Dozens of great bay windows watched the river like dark empty eyes. The King’s
crimson and gold pennant flew above the donjon. We sailed through its rippling
shadow.
How
had the hours passed in a moment? I had no time to wonder as we glided past the
King’s donjon to the public stairs.
“Oars,
up!”
One
of the rowers caught a flying rope out of the air. A man’s deep laugh sounded.
Someone pulled away the bearskin.
“Mistress.”
I
blinked at Stafford’s extended hand. “As promised. You are safely arrived at
Greenwich.”
Chapter Ten
Greenwich
Palace, Greenwich
April
1533
Madge
paused on the threshold of the Queen’s Watching Chamber to adjust one of her
damask foresleeves and give our names to the Yeomen Warders flanking the doors.
The long chamber buzzed like an enormous hive.
Sixty
sets of eyes pricked me—more people than lived at Shelton Hall—as
we entered. Their trenchant eyes scoured me, measuring my posture, my dress, my
walk—all the details Mother then Madge had devoted the past nine days to
polishing. The attention struck a flint inside my stomach. I pressed my folded
hands against it, hoping to smother the burning.
I
tried to tell myself these eyes did not matter, only the Queen’s. But if I
could not impress the hangers on in the Watching Chamber, what were my chances
with the Queen?
For
the first time since she’d married my brother, I thanked God for Madge. She
sailed through the crucible, oblivious to its heat.
If Madge can ignore them, so can I.
I
sucked in my stomach—a trick to force my back straight and chin up. I
could not take a deep breath, but that only served to cool my stomach. It was
always better to faint than vomit.
Madge
marched down a brief and narrow gallery into a smaller, but grander room than
the last—the Queen’s Presence Chamber.
The
wood paneling had recently been painted ivory—it required five coatings,
Madge informed me, to cover the scarlet from Spanish Katherine’s
stonework of the bridge. I opened my eyes once the echo stopped.
Ahead
loomed grey sky. I turned to look back at the yellow and blue that had painted
the sky above my house.
Fare thee well London. I hope for a
better sight when I return for Anne’s crowning.
I
turned back around to see the riversides almost divested of the city’s
trappings. We had passed London’s
boundaries and entered the country of Kent.
Anne
was from Kent. I had not visited Hever Castle since I was a babe. I wondered if
she would visit now she was Queen. I would return to Norfolk just once—to
show Emma and Gabrielle my splendor, since I would never have them at court to
see it.
Mist
diffused the view across the water. Swans drifted in and out of sight among the
reeds against the farther bank. I heard nothing beyond the pull of the oars as
London fell away in the fog.
The
air lost its acrid bite of wood fire, sewage, and decay as we flowed downriver.
All of my reference points vanished. The mist grew to a fog so thick we could
not see a barge length in any direction. The beater slowed his count. My heart
slowed with it. Time disappeared.
There was no sooner or later, no forward or back. We floated, suspended on the
water in a cocoon of nothingness.
I
shivered within my cloak. If this was what Orpheus had found when he went to
the Underworld I could not blame him for turning around and losing Eurydice.
I
no longer believed a city called London filled with one hundred thousand souls
stood behind us. Greenwich was a myth.
The
mindless drumbeats echoed from every side. The oars cut the water for no good
purpose.
We’re
not moving! I wanted to shout at them.
Madge
stirred, her eyelids fluttered, but she did not wake. I was alone in my fear.
Suddenly
the mist broke and a blinding rush of sunlight shut my eyes. I blinked them
clear and looked up. Greenwich’s massive red brick façade loomed over me.
Dozens of great bay windows watched the river like dark empty eyes. The King’s
crimson and gold pennant flew above the donjon. We sailed through its rippling
shadow.
How
had the hours passed in a moment? I had no time to wonder as we glided past the
King’s donjon to the public stairs.
“Oars,
up!”
One
of the rowers caught a flying rope out of the air. A man’s deep laugh sounded.
Someone pulled away the bearskin.
“Mistress.”
I
blinked at Stafford’s extended hand. “As promised. You are safely arrived at
Greenwich.”
Chapter Ten
Greenwich
Palace, Greenwich
April
1533
Madge
paused on the threshold of the Queen’s Watching Chamber to adjust one of her
damask foresleeves and give our names to the Yeomen Warders flanking the doors.
The long chamber buzzed like an enormous hive.
Sixty
sets of eyes pricked me—more people than lived at Shelton Hall—as
we entered. Their trenchant eyes scoured me, measuring my posture, my dress, my
walk—all the details Mother then Madge had devoted the past nine days to
polishing. The attention struck a flint inside my stomach. I pressed my folded
hands against it, hoping to smother the burning.
I
tried to tell myself these eyes did not matter, only the Queen’s. But if I
could not impress the hangers on in the Watching Chamber, what were my chances
with the Queen?
For
the first time since she’d married my brother, I thanked God for Madge. She
sailed through the crucible, oblivious to its heat.
If Madge can ignore them, so can I.
I
sucked in my stomach—a trick to force my back straight and chin up. I
could not take a deep breath, but that only served to cool my stomach. It was
always better to faint than vomit.
Madge
marched down a brief and narrow gallery into a smaller, but grander room than
the last—the Queen’s Presence Chamber.
The
wood paneling had recently been painted ivory—it required five coatings,
Madge informed me, to cover the scarlet from Spanish Katherine’s
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