“Maybe you could just visit me once in a while,” I tell her. “I haven’t been feeling myself lately, and talking to someone familiar might help me fill in some of the gaps I still have.”
“Of course, my lady.Catherine,” she amends. “This morning I heard talk of your fall. I’d be glad to visit with you anytime you wish.” She shoots up from her chair then, moving to an inner wall across from the crackling fireplace. “I have a flair for shadow puppetry, if you’re ever in need of entertainment.”
She casts a wildly realistic bunny rabbit hopping across the wall, and Cecily has one hundred percent just found her target demographic.
“Well, that’s a hard yes,” I immediately reply, much to her to delight. “Can you do people, too?”
“People are what I do best.”
I carefully nod in response, tucking my legs to sit crisscross on the bed. “In that case, what do you know about Henry VIII?”
Cecily’s smile turns sly. “Oh, I know quite a lot about him.” She curves and twists her agile hands, depicting the silhouette of my future husband in the flickering light. “Where would you like me to start?”
Chapter Five
Hi, guys! So many of you have been begging me to do a wake-up-with-me video, and today, I’m finally going for it.
First things first, as soon as I wake up on my half-goose-feather, half-straw mattress, I open my eyes, stretch, and, of course, double-check that I’m still in the wrong time period. Yep. Still here! That or I’m continuing on my slow-burn descent into madness. Either one.
After checking that task off, I get out of bed and squat over my favorite pee bucket. To answer your question, yes, I do have two different options. I’m bougie like that.
Next up, I pour out some unfiltered water from my very chic pitcher and wash my face and armpits. I go ahead and forgo putting on any of the creams that I do not have.
There’s a knock on my door and Cecily has arrived to dress me. Her official job title is a maid, but she’s actually my bestie and personal stylist. She also knows all the dirt on everyone in the palace. She serves the tea, and it’s piping hot.
Then it’s time for a fit check. Staying on trend is super important to me, so I obviously wear multiple skirts and tops. Because what fun is it to mask my body odor with perfume if I’m not layered up like a beleaguered football player on the reg?
For my first layer, I go with my colonial nightgown from the night before that also works double duty as my chemise. I love a night-to-day look. Did I mention that the women don’t wear undies? I don’t even know if they exist here. Naughty, naughty.
Then we go with my first skirt. Then a harder skirt. Then a decorative skirt. We then move on to the upper half of my outfit, where I’m laced and pinned within an inch of my life.
Fun hair accessories follow. A veiled headband is my weapon of choice today and goes over the thin little bonnet covering my hair. It’s givingLittle House on the Prairiemeets Renaissance Faire, and it’s a slay.
I’m going to leave things here for now. Thank you so much for tuning in. Let me know in the comments what you want to see next, and don’t forget to like and subscribe!
“Did you see that, Catherine? His arm was almost knocked clean off on that one!”
I snap out of my fever-like daydream as I turn toward Henry’s jubilant voice. This isn’t the first time I’ve used fictional vlogging as a coping mechanism, but it’s certainly the most bizarre scenario to date. I’m employing it now to block out the particularly brutal nature of the tournament we’re attending. Even from our seats in the royal box, I can smell the sweat and blood.
The tournament is serving as a kind of pre-wedding party before the big sha-bam tomorrow, and Henry is barely able to keep still beside me as he watches the jousting. He’s elated as the riders attempt to bludgeon each other to death on horseback, and I have to say, given my well-establishedKnight’s Talefetish, I thought I would like this excursion more than I do. But as it turns out, jousting is a bloody business and isn’t my brand of foreplay in the least.
“Does this please you, my sweet?” Henry leans in so I can hear him above the cheering crowd.
“It’s really something,” I answer.
“I only wish that you could have seen me when I rode in the joust. It was many years ago, but there wasn’t a man in England who could unseat me. No king competed as I did.” He speaks to me with a nostalgic tenor. The memories of his glory days clearly still affect him.
I can work with that.
“What was it that you liked about jousting?” I ask. “How did it make you feel?”
His eyes are glued to the action in front of us. “It made me feel invincible. Just as you do now.”
He flashes me a quick smirk, and the math is mathing. Henry isn’t just chasing Catherine; he’s chasing how he feels when he’s with her. To him, Catherine could be acting as a mirror, allowing him to see everything he still wants to see in himself—someone desirable, energetic, full of possibilities.
“What was it about the joust that you loved, though? Was it the thrill? The sense of competition? What made it special for you?”
He thinks on it for longer than I expect before turning to me with a hesitant openness. My curiosity is piqued, and he knows it. “It set me apart,” he says with a shadow of a smile. “There were other kings in the world, but I was brave. Strong. Unbeatable. I was given my kingdom by God and birthright, but I could have taken it if I wanted to. And with every tournament I won and every man I unhorsed—I proved it. To everyone, and to myself.”
