The Forgotten Queen

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Authors: D. L. Bogdan
Tags: Fiction, Historical
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serene as a queen should be, I climbed into my litter, and the last leg of the journey began.
    English lords and ladies were paired off with Scots and they formed a dazzling train while the thousands of onlookers cheered my procession. I waved and tossed coins, hoping to endear myself to the people who shouted blessings and sang my praises.
    We neared the halfway point, where I was invited to have a shot at a doe Jamie sent for my hunting pleasure.
    “I will not hunt without my lord!” I cried, delighted he should think of me. How I longed to draw back my bowstring and show him my prowess! He would be so pleased with me!
    At once Jamie arrived attired in purple, sitting a horse dressed in gold. My breath caught in my throat as I beheld him. Oh, but he was a true king! He dismounted, approaching my litter, and, without further ado, swept me up in his arms, planting a firm kiss upon my mouth.
    My eyes widened in delighted surprise as I wrapped my arms about his neck. “Oh, Your Grace!” I breathed.
    His expression was soft, filled with tenderness. No eyes were kinder, I thought to myself as I gazed upon him. I longed to trace his face, to marvel in its every contour and angle. Never had I seen a man in possession of such noble beauty.
    For a while he rode beside me, making certain to ask after my comfort every few moments to the point that I began to giggle at his solicitude.
    “I should like very much for you to ride with me into the city,” he told me.
    “I shall ride one of the new palfreys,” I said as the procession came to a halt.
    “No. You shall ride with me, holding me about the waist,” he added with a smile. How I adored the enthusiasm that caused his voice to crescendo with passion. So infectious was it that I giggled as he continued. “When the people see you thus they will know how pleased their king is by his precious little queen.”
    “Oh, yes, that would be delightful!” I exclaimed as I was helped from my litter. After it was decided that Jamie’s horse wasn’t gentle enough for the task, one of the new palfreys was brought forward. I mounted behind Jamie, wrapping my arms about his waist just as he said. My hands encountered something strange then, a heavy belt of iron. I stiffened. “What is this, Jamie?”
    “ ’Tis nothing to worry your pretty head about, little one,” he assured, moving my hands up to rest above the belt on his belly. “Come now, let’s ride!”
    We began to gallop toward the city. The wind rippled through my copper hair and I laughed, reveling in the freedom of it all. As we rode we were met by pageants and playacting. Knights mock jousted each other for love of a maiden and I was thrilled at all the effort put into these displays.
    “It is all for you,” the king told me. “All for my little Queen Maggie.”
    I nuzzled up between his shoulder blades and squealed in enchantment. All for me! This was a state of affairs I could well get used to!
    When we entered through the gates of Edinburgh at last I was presented with more revolting relics to kiss, including the arm of Saint Giles. Jamie, who seemed most observant and devout, urged me to kiss the disgusting things first, which I did with as much grace as I could summon, and he followed my lead, pressing his lips to the objects with a sincerity I did not feel. To me a bone was a bone.
    Next we were greeted with more pageants. I was presented with the keys to the city by an angel with real feathers for wings. Everywhere about me was opulence and excess; the fountains gushed with red wine and my head throbbed and tingled from the ringing of the bells.
    Edinburgh was alive with merriment and song.
    And all for me!
     
    It was my wedding day. The proxy ceremony, I realized, had nothing on this. Even if it were overcast the city would be lit by the gold in my procession—my eyes were dazzled by the cloth of gold and jewelry worn by people and horses alike.
    My gown was black velvet and white damask with red silk

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