The Private Chambers of Elizabeth

*Elizabeth sends the same lady to attend the courier, this time with a stern warning to behave in a more ladylike manner befitting a lady of the Queen's bedchamber*

*The courier pinches the woman with a wink and hands her the letter*.

*Elizabeth arrives in the doorway beside her lady and issues the courier with a most disapproving look for daring to interfere with the ladies under her care.*

We thank you for your trouble, sir, and will send for thee when we know if there ist need for a reply. We assume you know where to wait.

*then Elizabeth doth close the door and begins to break the seal upon the parchment*

*knocks on the door*

*as her ladies do attend to her, Elizabeth begins to read the letter. Her mind ist hardly able to take in the dreadful news that Marie ist now lost to France. Her mind races as she re-reads the words of her cousin, trying to fine some glimmer of a remaining fight against the orders that she hath been given. But there is none. And as much as Elizabeth would fight for her cousin, she cannot try to rescue her from this fate if Marie hath resigned herself to it in true faith.*

*enfuriated, lost and tearful, Elizabeth doth bat her ladies away from her in anger, tired of their fussing. She sits down and stares into space trying to find a way through this, a solution.*

*At the sound of the knocking at the door the lady who did attend to the Queen at her wedding hurriedly banishes all of the ladies from the Queen's chambers. In her hurry and panic she doth not notice that her Queen ist sat in stoney silence, most un-prepared for her new husband, still dressed in her smock and corset and crying silent tears.*

*the lady doth rush into the recieving chamber which adjoins the Queen's bedroom. Opening the door cautiously, she curtsies afore the Prince Consort informing him that tis safe to enter for all are gone, save herself and her Queen.*

*bows to the lady, and gestures her to leave the room, closing the door behind her. Strolling into the bed room, he is most surprised to find the Queen in tears.*

Oh...querida, I am sure this is not the usual state of a bride on her wedding night (or morning, in this case). What has upset you so?

Marie ist.. *sniffle* ...she hath been ordered to... *sniffle* ...she ist leaving us for France.

*Elizabeth, usually in complete control of such emotions hath had a very taxing and long evening and ist now quite overcome by it all. She begins to sob and hands Juan the letter to read for 'twil make more sense than she.*

*Elizabeth rises from her chair to go in search of a handkerchief. The task of finding such small item without the aid of her usually constant ladies is difficult. However, the determination to find one doth help her to take control of herself a little.*

*drying her eyes and trying to neaten herself up she doth realise how she ist most improperly attired. Used to having her council march into her chambers at all hours on matter of state she ist not uncomfortable being seen in items of her undergarment but ist now most distressed for other reasons.*

Oh, we art already a most dreadful wife! *she scholds herself* Recieving thee in such a state of tears, emotions and ill dress.

I shall have my ladies attend me.

No, do not call for them. Whatever it is, you and I shall deal with it. *Drapes a robe over his wife's shoulders then sits down on a stool, across from the Queen.*
This is more than nerves. What troubles you?

*Elizabeth sighs*

I fear for what ist ahead of the kingdom now that Marie ist again lost to the French. Their bold victory with mine cousin may well lead them to grander ideas. Not just for our bordering Scotland but also for England.

Peace has come so easy to us since our fine alliance with Marie, and she with the council of our most loyal subject Nicholas. ...and Nicholas, what shall he do for his heart wilt be broken?

And Marie, she hath not made this decision herself, the Pope hath done it for her. How can she be content to rule in such a way, and how canst she rule at all when under another's control. She shall return to the bosom of her mother church and be issuing proclamations for our death within moments of landing on France's shores

*Elizabeth sits down upon the edge of the bed, now a little stronger for having spoken of it all.*

I have dealt with worse before and I shall deal with it again. Tis just the loss of that which we hath worked so hard for.

...and now I must worry for the effects it will have upon you. Were it not vexing enough that I am more qualified as a Queen than a wife, moments after being bound to me in the sight of God thou art facing possible holy war bewteen thine church and thine wife.

...and I must now hold my tongue for I do but swear that tis all done by the Pope to shift me from my throne and I am already quite done with his murderous threats.

I worry not about holy wars. I tend to win them, so I am sure the church will see reason. Also, I fear I may have knocked the poor padre unconscious, which at least bought me a few moments' peace.

Surely, one of the reasons for my father's decision to send me here was to contain France- to create an alliance between your land and his. He will surely not stand for threats against his own daughter-in-law. Or he'll arrange to marry Marie's children to some of his brood of grandchildren, thereby binding us all together in one big happy alliance against who-knows-what.

And if you are more suited to be a Queen than a wife, I am surely more suited to be a general than a husband, but we shall make do.

The padre? Unconscious?!

Um, yes.
These things happen, you know.

*Elizabeth begins to laugh*

then mayhaps we two are indeed a perfect match for I too have wished to do the same with many of mine bishops. ...alas my lord Cecil doth always prevent it and has me run them out of court instead.

...I didst once fashion myself as an Admiral's wife in my younger days, but that was before I had the burden of rule and could entertain fancies of escaping to sea upon the finest galleon England could provide.

*Elizabeth stands, removes the robe that her husband hath so kindly draped about her shoulders and places it across a chair.*

Alas my lord you find me quite unfit for purpose, but mayhaps if we cudst rest here a while? Batten doen the hatches, lock out the troubles of Europe and let me forget for one moment that I am a Queen. That is if that doth suit thee my lord?

*eyes Elizabeth's arm*
No, I don't think you could knock out a bishop.
And yes, that does suit me just fine.
*picks up a chair and wedges it under the door*.

*Elizabeth crosses the room to fetch a little wine and then attempts to attend to the fire afore it doth threaten to go out. She finds herself hindered both by her lack of understanding of such lowly tasks and the bones in her corset which make it most difficult to manouvre. However she ist determined anyway and doth but mutter her distaste for anything she ist not the very best at.*

I think I must always remain a Queen for I shall never make a good serving wench.

*Elizabeth stands once again and eyes the chair at the door. She considers for one moment.*

We are loathed to emerge from such fine fortress but know not how to get out of this damnable cage into which they truss me daily without the attendance of our ladies. Mayhaps thou cudst assist my lord?

*Elizabeth turns her back to her husband, requiring him to attend to the many lacings which do encase her small frame within her corsetry.*

If there ist no other way I would have thee cut me out of it, for I cannot sleep in comfort while it doth dig into me so.

I should think I can manage the laces without resorting to cutting them. *sets to work with a vengence.*

There! All free! Now it's my turn, I think. When my brother knighted me he gave me this collar to hang the Fleece from, but truth be told it's a bit heavy and uncomfortable.

*The courier waits impatiently for a reply, and debates whether taking his risks and rolling in the hay with the lady would be worth the punishment either or both Queens would inflict*.

*almost delicately places the heavy chain on a chest, then removes his court sword and drapes it over the door-blocking chair.*

*unable to renounce the outside world truly without dealing with one last matter, Elizabeth doth seize the quill and parchement kept alongside her bed and writes a hasty note to her cousin which she seals and slips beneath the door for her lady in waiting to attend to the delivery of*

Dearest cousin,

we are great saddened by the news that thou wilt soon be leaving us for France.

We wish thee full happiness in thine marriage to Francis, but if ever a day comes when thou findest the council of thine husband and France not enough for thee, remember England and thine cousin.

As for our neighbouring realms it ist taken that our past agreement still stands and that we are all of peace and kinship.

If it please thee to have it so we canst arrange for Nicholas to be under our care and would offer him to France as our envoy if it suits all parties?

Your cousin and dear sister of royal blood,

Elizabeth R.

*That done with, Elizabeth doth attend to her husband as best as she doth find herself able. She pauses for a moment and doth take his hand to kiss it*

On the morrow my lord... if it please thee... (she speaks meekly, unsure how to deal with the lowly position of wife instead of the masterful position as Queen)... we shalt have thee installed properly in the rooms adjoining. Mine office of state must remain as it is, but all else here we shall attend to as ist thine command. Though thou art not in charge of this land or this Queen we would have thee rule over our household.... and soon over our ships and our seas. If it please thee?

At this point, my beloved, I wish only to be at your side. Perhaps the ships in a few months, once we have settled in to our new life. I will gladly, though, accept the offer of adjoining rooms.

And, if you take up pen again before we leave this room I swear on my holy honor *mock gravity* I will throw all your pens and papers into the fire!

*enchanted by his wishes not to depart from her, Elizabeth doth wrap her arms about her new husband*

I should cast them all upon the flame myself if it would keep thee here a little longer. Though I would not keep thee from thine calling longer than thou wishest it.