Arthur opened his mouth but did not know what to say. It had hurt, it hurt even remembering it now, that one of the few people he trusted, one he never thought would turn on him had deemed him disposable. It was the ultimate kick in the teeth. The humiliation was unbearable but the painful ache it had caused was far more potent than the burn of shame.
He struggled to hold back his anger and surprise. This was not the reply he had been expecting, he was almost resentful of her for not saying what he had thought she would. “But I am - ”
“These are sad times,” she interrupted him.
“Is your Majesty only a fair-weather friend?” he spat bitterly.
“The crown and the country go together hand in hand.”
“Then why - ”
“Do you remember – I suppose you do not,” the queen cut through him again. Arthur’s hands curled into trembling fists. “It was a few years ago and you have more than a few centuries worth of memories. However, maybe I can jolt something by reminding you about that time we met again in Hertfordshire.”
“I remember,” he replied automatically. His memory was not so bad that he could not remember what happened a few measly years ago.
“Then do you also remember what I asked you?”
“You asked me many things, Your Highness,” he replied curtly, his patience was wearing him and he had no idea what one thing had to do with the other.
The queen laughed derisively. Arthur noted with a wry smile that she still politely covered her mouth with her hand even when she was trying to be insulting. “I asked you, between the prime minister and I, if we both gave you contradictory orders who would you obey?” she reminded him.
“I said the prime minister. Even though you’re royalty the prime minister is technically my boss. You are...”
“Just a figure head,” she finished for him. “The crown and country go together hand in hand but you; it was you Arthur who betrayed me first.”
Arthur was not sure whether to burst into a fit of hysterics or throw something at her in anger. “That’s...” he struggled between the two, “I didn’t do any such thing! You expect me to – to believe that that was punishment for this so called ‘betrayal’? Are you that petty?” he cried, unable to wrap his head around her way of thinking.
“Punishment?” she laughed. “Of course not! However, it opened my eyes. I knew, finally, that between the two powers, you would not choose my side.”
Her eyes swept over the room, empty but for the two of them. Tilting her head to the side, she seemed pensive, almost wistful. Her hair was beginning to turn silver and her face wrinkle with age.
It was like a stab to the heart. Arthur remembered buying silk and velvet to drape over the throne in a mock re-enactment of the old Tudors, remembered childish shrieks of ‘off with her head!’ filling the room as he watched her, once a child, running through the halls. He crushed those memories and let them drift away on the air.
Re: If you find me...[18/28]
He struggled to hold back his anger and surprise. This was not the reply he had been expecting, he was almost resentful of her for not saying what he had thought she would. “But I am - ”
“These are sad times,” she interrupted him.
“Is your Majesty only a fair-weather friend?” he spat bitterly.
“The crown and the country go together hand in hand.”
“Then why - ”
“Do you remember – I suppose you do not,” the queen cut through him again. Arthur’s hands curled into trembling fists. “It was a few years ago and you have more than a few centuries worth of memories. However, maybe I can jolt something by reminding you about that time we met again in Hertfordshire.”
“I remember,” he replied automatically. His memory was not so bad that he could not remember what happened a few measly years ago.
“Then do you also remember what I asked you?”
“You asked me many things, Your Highness,” he replied curtly, his patience was wearing him and he had no idea what one thing had to do with the other.
The queen laughed derisively. Arthur noted with a wry smile that she still politely covered her mouth with her hand even when she was trying to be insulting. “I asked you, between the prime minister and I, if we both gave you contradictory orders who would you obey?” she reminded him.
“I said the prime minister. Even though you’re royalty the prime minister is technically my boss. You are...”
“Just a figure head,” she finished for him. “The crown and country go together hand in hand but you; it was you Arthur who betrayed me first.”
Arthur was not sure whether to burst into a fit of hysterics or throw something at her in anger. “That’s...” he struggled between the two, “I didn’t do any such thing! You expect me to – to believe that that was punishment for this so called ‘betrayal’? Are you that petty?” he cried, unable to wrap his head around her way of thinking.
“Punishment?” she laughed. “Of course not! However, it opened my eyes. I knew, finally, that between the two powers, you would not choose my side.”
Her eyes swept over the room, empty but for the two of them. Tilting her head to the side, she seemed pensive, almost wistful. Her hair was beginning to turn silver and her face wrinkle with age.
It was like a stab to the heart. Arthur remembered buying silk and velvet to drape over the throne in a mock re-enactment of the old Tudors, remembered childish shrieks of ‘off with her head!’ filling the room as he watched her, once a child, running through the halls. He crushed those memories and let them drift away on the air.