Angry bird attacks his cage in the corner as I answer. “I don’t know the specific order, but I do know that his daughter is Queen Elizabeth, and she stays queen for a long time. She takes England into a golden age.”
“Oh, bad luck for you,” Matthias says.
“How so?”
He pushes his chair back from the table as well, though he doesn’t stand. “Well, if Elizabeth becomes queen, then that must mean Henry doesn’t have any more sons. And I guess little Edward won’t be with us for long. Poor dear. Good riddance to Mary, though.”
“Okay,” I reply. “And what does that have to do with me?”
“Well, what if you don’t marry him, and then the king marries someone he otherwise didn’t? They could have sons together who are wretched, and then they would precede Elizabeth in the line of succession.Theywould rule and not her. It could erase the golden age you mentioned and send us all spiraling into a war-torn, scorched-earth scenario. Wars that never happened could come about. Great people who lived might never have been born.”
I stop pacing. “You have no concrete proof that that will happen.”
“It might.”
“It might not.”
“But are you willing to risk it?” he asks. He stands up slowly, and his gaze is compassionate but determined. “I’m sure you have a family in the future. This is the only real way to ensure that they’ll still exist when you get back.”
His words knock the wind out of me—more brutal than a gut punch. This is some fucked-up historical blackmail. Since I’ve been here, I’ve kept the memories of my mom and grandmatucked away in a neat little box. I’ve carefully compartmentalized them, because if I let my thoughts linger there for too long, I’ll disappear into a nothingness of missing them.
We were a trio. Wearea trio. The three Whitaker women. My grandma was a high school science teacher, and my mom is an English lit professor. We lived, and they still live, in a small Spanish-styled bungalow on a dead-end street. Our lawn is perpetually shabby, so much so that some kids in our neighborhood called it the witches’ house.
I love it with every fiber of my being.
The thought of their not existing in the future is unfathomable. The world wouldn’t spin without them. They’re too real a light force. Too strong a glow. Matthias has to be wrong.
But what if he isn’t? What if I change history and they disappear? What if someone I don’t know—that someone else loved—disappears because of me?
This can’t be the only way forward, but right now, it feels like it might be.
I grit my teeth and scrunch my eyes closed before walking back toward Matthias. “If I’m go through with this, I need to know for a fact that you are going to help me get back home.”
He gazes back at me in bewilderment. “How should I know how to do that?”
“Ask the mist!” I yell. “You’re the one saying I have to marry Henry the freaking VIII for the sake of the future universe, so yeah, you better be planning to help me.”
Matthias nods. “That’s a good point. Yes, I will help you to get back home, but I need some time.”
“How much time?”
“A week.”
“A week?!” I fume, dropping back down into my chair. “The king could kill me in a week!”
“I’m sure he won’t kill you in a week.” Matthias pauses as he pours himself more wine. “Mostly sure.” He stays silent for a few seconds before shaking the thought off. “I wouldn’t be worried. Henry can be very charming when he wants to be. He’s well studied. He speaks multiple languages. He’s good at cards. Did you know he’s an accomplished musician?”
I attempt to skewer him alive with my retinas.
“I need a week to research,” he goes on. “I have access to some very rare, somewhat forbidden texts, thanks to my astrologer privilege. Let me look them over and see what I find.”
I think of my mom and grandma again, and breathing hurts. Blinking stings. “I just want to go home.
“I know you do,” Matthias says quietly. He takes a beat, then lays his hand on the table with forced optimism. “Let’s look ahead now. For the time being, your best course of action is to keep your head down and try not to attract too much notice.”
I give him a sardonic glance. “I’m going to be the queen in less than two days.”
“That’s unfortunate. New plan: become the most famous woman in England while also not attracting too much notice. Come back to see me in a week and I’ll let you know what I’ve found. And try to have some fun while you’re here.”
