“Now tell me, not Catherine Howard, are you sure you didn’t conjure up some sorcery of your own to send yourself here?”
He takes another sip, and I hold my cup to occupy my nervous hands.
“I definitely didn’t send myself here,” I tell him. “My friend and I were on a tour of the palace when I thought I fainted, and somehow I woke up like this.”
“Fascinating.” He leans in a bit over the table. “How does it feel to be walking around in there? It must be strange to be a spirit in someone else’s body. Does it tickle?”
I sit back in my chair, realizing how grateful I am to actually be talking about this with someone. “It feels strange, but more mentally strange than physically. I’m trying not to overanalyze everything, but that’s challenging considering the field I work in.”
“You work in the fields in the future?”
I take a sip of wine then instantly regret it. “No, I’m going to be a psychologist. I’ll help people understand how their brain, thoughts, and emotions work together to improve their mental health. I’ll also—”
“You study the brain?” he interjects eagerly. “Do mine! Do you need to make an incision to see it, or can you just tap my head and it opens up?” He leans down all the way over the table, offering his skull to me without hesitation.
“What I mean is, I help people work through issues they may be struggling with by talking with them and understanding the root of the problem.”
Matthias sits back up to look at me. “That’s a bit of a letdown.”
“Sorry,” I answer.
He shakes off his disappointment and takes another sip of wine. “It’s fine. And now you’re set to marry the king. Exciting.” His smile says that he’s genuinely excited for me, and my mouth sets in a grim line.
“I wouldn’t call it exciting. I’m going to do everything in my power to not let it happen.”
Matthias sets his cup down. “How do you mean?”
“I mean, I can’t marry him. The king is old and has no clue who I am, and he kills all his queens.”
“Ah, spoiler alert,” he says, pointing to me with a grin.
“How do you even know what that means?”
“The mist told me,” he answers. “Back to what we were talking about. You have to marry the king.” I laugh at his assertion, and he laughs as well for a few seconds before he stops. “No, but you really do.”
The humor of the situation dies in my chest, sending a chill through my body. But I’m not scared. Now I’m pissed. “My free will says I don’t have to marry him.”
Matthias’s face twists in uncomfortable sympathy. “Free will isn’t really a thing here. The only will is the king’s will.”
I think the fuck not.
“That’s too bad, because it’s not happening.”
“Your marriage has to happen,” he says. “Did Catherine Howard marry the king in your time?”
“Yes.”
“Then you have to marry him now. Not now, exactly, but in two days, as planned.” Frustration courses through me, forcing me to stand. My chair scratches across the floor as I push off from the table. “If you don’t marry him,” Matthias says, “you risk irreparably damaging the timeline.”
“What timeline?” I snap back.
“The timeline of history!”
I pace the room, but the repetitive motion doesn’t soothe me. He can’t just pin this on me. I let everything I know about the Tudors flutter through my brain, clawing for a solution.
“No,” I tell him. “Everyone who takes the throne after Henry dies has already been born. So there isn’t a definite reason why I have to marry him. It won’t affect the timeline.”
Matthias winces in indecision as he squirms around in his chair. “I know I shouldn’t let you tell me, but I’m so curious. Go on, then, who gets the crown in the future?”
