The Goodbye

I see my husband's raised arm coming closer to my body like it is happening much slower than actual time.

"You dirty whore! Dirty King's slut!" he yells.

Normally I would have taken his punches but now it is not only me that could get injured.

"Please husband, think of the child I beg you."

I shut my eyes and wait for the force to knock me to the ground. When nothing happens I slowly open them again and see that my husband's back is now what's facing me. His back is moving up and down with the same rhythm as his shallow panting. I remain silent for a while before gathering the courage to speak again.

"Only you, I and Your Majesty will know that this is a bastard child. If we go home nobody will know when the child is born and no one can dispute that you are the father. You will get the boy you have always wanted."

The Duke turns around and he does not look furious any longer. It is only the burning rage in his eyes which remains.

"It will not be my boy woman. I will know it is a bastard and I could never accept it as my own."

The desperation fills my entire being and I begin to doubt myself. What if my husband will cast me out after all?

"Husband please I beg you to show me mercy. I know you have never loved me but I have tried to be a good wife to you. Please take pity on me or at least find it in your heart to take pity on my innocent child. I beg you please, have mercy."

I try my best to keep my voice steady but still it fails me. My husband lets me hold his hands and does not move away from me. After what appears to be the longest silence in my lifetime he finally speaks.

"Get the King's permission", he says and immediately dismisses me.

My head is spinning with relief for a few seconds before I realise that yet another conversation has to proceed according to plan. Exhausted by the day's emotional turmoil I return to my chambers and pour myself a cup of wine. If I only speak to the King in the right way. Will I tell him the truth? Can I trust him with the truth? What other reason could I possibly give for wanting to leave court? Granted, during my year at court I have not made too many friends amongst the Lords and Ladies, the Dukes and Duchesses, but I have come to appreciate the King's decision to summon my husband to court in a way I never thought possible. What would my life be like if he had no received that summon? How would my life have turned out if I had never met the King? What if I had never met Edmund and known love, a concept I had given up on finding anywhere but in a child? I decide that I must tell him the truth. I have sometimes played games with him but he has always proved to be honest and loyal towards me. He if anyone deserves to know why I have to leave.

As I walk to Charles' chambers that night, it dawns on me that it is the first time I had ever gone there without an invitation. The guards outside his door stops me and I ask for permission to speak to the King and say a silent prayer that he will be alone. One of the guards slips through the door and when he comes back he simply says:

"Your Majesty will see you now."

With my heart in my throat I enter the chambers with a faint sensation I am walking to my execution. I try to push the thought aside but it turns out to be impossible. It is everything that occupies my mind.

"Emily! What a surprise."

"Your Majesty."

His smile does not ease my heart and it appears as if he notice my worries.

"Is something the matter?" His face suddenly harden in a way I have only seen once before. "Is it the Duke?"

"I am with child."

This is not a part of my plan. Announcing that I am expecting is not a good plan at all. I wanted to weave it into the conversation but now it was too late for tact and subtlety.

"That is wonderful news dear, the Duke must be thrilled."

I open my mouth to say the words but they will not come out. What if I have misjudged Charles gravely? He is the King of England and with a snap of his fingers I can lose my head. I am just other adulterer, no better than a simple whore in the eyes of the Lord. I am nothing more than a dirty mistress.

"Charles", I begin and then paus. "I want to tell you something in the greatest of confidence. Can you swear that what I say next will never leave this room?"

The smile on his lips vanish and left is an expression of confusion and curiosity.

"What has happened?"

"Please will you promise me?"

"I promise."

I turn to the table, pour myself a cup of wine and finish it in a few seconds. I know I have to say it and I have to do it now.

"My husband is not the father of my child."

Charles laughs and pours some wine for himself.

"Of course he is my love."

When I do not join his laughter, he looks at me and then I can see in his eyes that he knows. He sees me for the harlot I truly am.

"Who is he?" He does not sound upset, more like he is in shock.

"It is not important.."

"Who is he?" he yells in a firm voice while staring at me with his piercing eyes.

I remind myself that I had promised to tell him the entire truth but can I risk it? I am choosing between the safety of my child and Edmund's wellbeing which turns out to be easier than I have imagined.

"Edmund, the son of the Duke of Gloucester."

He empties his cup in one swift move.

"A good man, a brave soldier." With ease Charles empties another cup of wine. "So do you love him?"

Be truthful to him because he deserves it, I tell myself.

"I love him and our child more than anything. That is why I am here Your Majesty. I have told my husband that this child is yours. If you grant us permission to leave court, he has agreed to raise the child as his own."

He remain silent so I continue the speech I already practised so many times in my mind.

"Please forgive me if I have offended you with this lie but it is the only way I can guarantee my child's safety. If there would have been any way to keep your name out of this… Your Majesty have always been true to me and showed me nothing but love and devotion. I hope I have been clear in returning those feelings. I respect Your Majesty not only as my King but also as a man. Please Your Majesty, forgive me."

As nearly every word out of my mouth speaking to my husband had been a lie, so is every word out of my mouth now true. I only hope the King will not be too blinded by fury so he cannot see my true intentions.

"You know I am simply Charles to you."

When I spoken I had kept my gaze down but at his words I look up. His features are relaxed and the smile returns to his lips.

"You and the Duke have my permission to leave court in the morrow."

I fall down onto the floor and kiss Charles' rings and his hand over and over again. I can hardly believe the kindness and understanding the King shows me and as the tears are streaming down my face I mumble:

"Thank you Charles. Thank you."

"Now I want a favour from you."

For a moment my heart comes to a stop. This had been too good to be true. It had been too simple to convince him to take my side. I have no idea what he will demand of me but I also know that I have no choice. I am yet again without any sort of power.

"I will do anything you command of me Your Majesty."

He pulls me up on my feet so I am forced to look him in the eye.

"Do you love me Emily?"

"Of course I love you."

There is no hesitation in my voice.

"But you love him more."

It is not a question but a statement, still I feel as if I need to explain myself. But like always, words are wasted between us and simply by the way his familiar hand touch my cheek, I realise that Charles finally understands me.

"Since this is your last night at court for a while I wish you would spend it with me. Do you give your consent?"

I feel the sudden urge to laugh loudly or start weeping but I do neither.

"This is the favour you wished for?"

Charles smile as he bends down and kiss me intensely. I have not touched him in many months but surprisingly I do not have to think much as my body does the work for me. As he takes me to bed I suddenly recall how fierce our last encounter was.

"Please be gentle", I whisper.

Charles does not give an answer. Instead he lays me down and when my gown comes off he puts a light kiss on my stomach. Even with a gentle touch, Charles still makes my body quiver, and though I do not love him like I love Edmund, he can please me like no other.

As the night comes to an end I realise this would have played out rather differently if Charles would have known about the child I lost. His child that died after merely two months in my womb. A cold shiver goes through my body and for the first time in my life I considered myself lucky.