Dipping into her lowest curtsy, she bowed her head, and upon the words, “You may enter,” Maria Torres did just that.
Maria, a servant to the new Queen Katherine of Aragon since she took the crown, was familiar with the duties she was supposed to fulfil every morning upon entering the queen’s chambers. Today, it appeared, would be no different.
“Good morning, Queen Katherine,” Maria said, her head bowed in reverence. The two other chambermaids bowed their heads and greeted the queen as well.
“It is a good morning, is it not?” The queen gazed from her window as she stroked a soft brush through her long, dark hair. A small smile flitted across Maria’s lips; she was glad to have such a beautiful queen. Shaken from her thoughts by the splash of water in a basin, Maria turned to help the other chambermaids prepare the queen’s bath.
After the queen had been washed and dried with the finest of salts and silks, the two other chambermaids left, leaving Maria and the queen alone in her bedchamber.
“If I may ask,” the queen began, “what is a young Spanish girl like yourself doing in England at a time like this?” Maria dipped her head in acquiescence, a bit shocked the queen was asking permission of her. Queen Katherine’s voice was soft and even; she didn’t have a superior air as if she was the only Spanish woman who should be in England now. She was simply inquiring.
As Maria wove the queen’s hair into a long plait, she gave the most honest answer she could muster. “My father died fighting for the Spanish when I was a child, causing my mother to lose faith in the noble reign of the monarchs. She was broken-hearted and stripped of her faith in the government, so she left with me on her hip.”
She felt the braid tug as the queen nodded a response. “There are few who have faith in my parents, but they are doing noble things for a country they love; in many centuries to come, Spaniards will be thanking my parents for their loyalty to unity.
“However, I understand that the times are hard on the proletariat, and while to leave is rebuking faith to one’s country, it is understandable to human nature to protect oneself and one’s family.”
Again, Maria felt a twinge of love for the queen sitting in front of her. Warmth and understanding were not common in this castle unless you were in this woman’s presence.
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“She’s with child?”
“The queen is with child!”
“An heir to the throne is to be birthed.”
Excited whispers passed by her as Maria made her way to her own chambers. The queen couldn’t be carrying a child”more like the child. King Henry was going to have an heir to the throne, everything a king wanted and desired from a queen. Maria could hardly imagine how exultant the queen must feel, but she would not find out until tomorrow morning when she tended to her duties.
When she reached her chambers, she opened the door quietly as she always did, looking around for any onlookers before pushing it wide enough to slip her body through. Once the door was safely shut, she leaned her back against it and let out a long breath before pulling her wand from the depths of her skirts and whispering, “Obfirmerous,” and the door clicked shut.
“Freedom,” she muttered as she walked towards her feather stuffed bed and small washbasin. On the other side of her bed, hidden from the world, was a cauldron. Each day she minimised the cauldron, hiding it beneath her bed so no one could ever find it. Today was no different.
“Engorgio,” she whispered, and the cauldron swelled to its regular size. Lifting up her mattress, she pulled out various wilted greenery and shrunken organs, a roughly hewn wooden cutting board and a finely sharpened knife.
Staring down at the ingredients in her hands, she came to a standstill. She had brewed everything she could imagine: sleeping potions, strong and weak, love potions, beautifying potions and beyond. When she had been a child, her mother and father were both avid potioneers, so she grew up learning from them what they called ‘the most noble magic.’ However, now she found that she lacked inspiration not only of what to do with what she was holding, but also of whom to make it for.
“Maria,” an excited whisper called from outside her door, followed by two swift knocks. “Maria, let me in!”
The voice was that of another chambermaid, Phyllis Pugh, with whom Maria bathed the queen every week. Flicking her wand, she threw the ingredients into her cauldron, minimising it and placing it carefully within the shadows of her bed.
“Coming, Phyllis,” she responded, getting up from her kneeling position and walking to the door.
“Hello.” Maria smiled a quick smile, attempting to make it seem she really did enjoy Phyllis’ gossiping company as much as she assumed.
“Good morning.” Phyllis paused only a second, then pushed herself past Maria, plopping down on her rather stiff bed. “Did you hear the queen was with child? I should have known! We wash her every week. Did you notice a glow? A bump? Anything?”
Maria shut the door, unconsciously feeling her skirts to ensure her wand was still hidden. Upon turning around, she found Phyllis’ eyes wandering curiously around her chambers. One of her great annoyances was a person whom found it acceptable to intrude on one’s area, only to pick it apart ceaselessly with their eyes and thoughts.
“I think our queen’s child is not something to be spoken about so carelessly. She must only be a few weeks along, and we would not want to curse it with our careless words,” Maria said defensively, her aggravation crawling up through her chest, causing her ears to pound dully and the corners of her mouth to slant downwards.
“Simply a comment,” Phyllis replied, unaware of the ire in her voice.
“I see.”
“Well, I need to go.” She stood up, shooting Maria a smile as she walked past her. “Oh, and the queen wanted to see you in her chambers to prepare her for dinner.”
She shut the door before she could hear Maria let out a low groan, as was usual upon Phyllis’ exit.
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“You wished to see me, Your Majesty?” Maria dipped low into a curtsey as she always did in the entryway to the queen’s chambers.
“Yes, Maria, thank you.”
She straightened herself so her shoulders were pushed back and her chin up as the queen always encouraged her ladies to stand. In preparation for the birth of the queen’s first child, heavy, dark curtains had been hung over the room’s windows and thick, fluffy pillows had been laid at the head of the bed to maximize the comfort of her days spent lying there.
“As I am sure you have already been alerted, I am with child.” Queen Katherine gazed out the window and Maria remained across the room near the door, unsure whether to move nearer to her or stay stationary. “I am to choose a few of my most trusted servants to assist me at all times.” She turned to Maria, a small smile on her face.
“I can’t help but trust a woman of my own nationality, and I have found that I have a kindred spirit in you. I would like you to be a birthing servant to me once I am closer to the day.” Maria felt her chest well with pride. “I would be honoured, Your Majesty.”
The queen nodded. “That is all for now. You are dismissed.”
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Dropping what she hoped would be the final ingredient into the simmering electric-blue potion, Maria gasped as the liquid turned clear. Wafting the steaming air above the hot cauldron, she smelled nothing, just what she had been hoping for. She clapped her hands together and stood up, gathering the mismatched vials she had collected from around the palace. Dipping the wooden cup into the potion, she groaned as old particles from the cup tainted the potion, turning it a murky grey colour.
Once she had poured all the liquid into a vial, she pointed her wand into the cup, muttering, “Scourgify.”
She continued scooping mechanically until all of the vials were full of clear liquid. Looking upon her creation, her eyes roamed from one vial to the next until they reached the final grey one.
“Evanesco.” The taunting dull colour of the impure potion would not bother her anymore.
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“Thank you, Richard,” Maria said as she pushed her way through the swinging door of the kitchens. Every morning she would arrive in the kitchen at promptly eight o’clock to retrieve the queen’s preferred tea. Sometimes when Richard, one of the lower cooks in the kitchen who prepared the queen’s morning tea, was feeling creative, he would include a flower freshly cut from the palace gardens. Today was one of those days.
“You are very welcome, fair Maria Torres!” he called behind her. She turned her head to nod in appreciation and she saw him folded in an elaborate bow. Grinning, she continued on her well-beaten path to the queen’s sleeping chambers. Upon arriving, she propped the silver tray on her left hip, balancing it and she raised her hand to knock softly on the queen’s door. Before her hand could reach the wood, she heard a pained moan emanate from the depths of the royal chamber. Instantly, scenarios jumped to mind: the queen was sick, the queen was in pain. Completely forgetting propriety in the face of danger, Maria set the morning tray on a side table and pushed the door open.
Inside, the queen lay tossing in the bed. As Maria moved closer, she saw sweat lining her brow and matting her long hair. Taking another step, she realised that not only was this inappropriate, but potentially alarming. Remaining as close to the door as she could, Maria cleared her throat.
“Your Majesty? I heard you moaning on my way in with your morning tea, and I wanted to know if I should alert the royal doctors?”
She watched in dismay as the paled queen’s face lit up with alarm. Shaking her head weakly from side to side, she beckoned Maria towards her.
“Please,” she rasped, “the king mustn’t know of this. You must not tell anyone that I have taken sick. Alert the king that I have taken with head pains and wish to stay out of the light today for fear of worsening it.”
Before Maria could curtsy and accept the request, the queen let out a squeal of pain. Maria’s immediate reaction was to quietly close the door, looking to make sure no one was outside. As the queen continued to moan, Maria kept her back turned to the room and pulled out her wand.
“Muffliato.”
“Smart girl,” she heard rasped from behind her.
“Always at your service, my queen.”
Queen Katherine turned back, her face turned up to the ceiling. She let out a sigh and rested her hand on her swelling belly. A small smile replaced the grimace that had been imprinted there since Maria had entered.
“Is there anything you need at this time?”
She motioned for Maria to come towards her, and she did so swiftly.
“Wonderful creature, a child, is it not?” The queen inquired.
Maria nodded, folding her hands comfortably at her waist. “Indeed it is the most miraculous of miracles.”
The queen turned to Maria now, a desperate look on her face. “Pray this is a prince. I could not image Henry’s disappointment upon my giving birth to a princess.”
Shocked that the queen had just revealed a true worry, Maria’s own thoughts began churning with ways to comfort her. The use of any magic on the queen could quickly lead to her execution, but Maria thought, this was the royal prince whose life might be in danger.
“My queen,” she began, her voice wavering as she chose between simply asking for direction or offering her own, “I can provide you with medicines that will ease the pain.” She attempted to take as much magical connotation from the offer as she could.
Queen Katherine shook her head. “This child will be born pure in the face of God”no medicines or pain killers will be necessary. Now, could you pull down these blankets and please alert the king’s servants that I will not be attending the joust today.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
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“Everyone must leave now,” all besides the second royal doctor and his assistants were told.
Since the day Maria had offered the queen a remedy to the pain, she had a feeling something was going to go wrong. It was a feeling mothers had when their child was not healthy, and Maria sensed the queen knew the child growing in her womb would be sickly.
Maria had become the queen’s royal birthing servant, chosen above Phyllis and the other chambermaid. She had watched as the queen progressed through the different stages of pregnancy and as each day passed, the strong queen grew weaker and weaker. Today was her final day of weakness, the child was to be born, and as Maria and the other servants waited outside the queen’s sleeping chamber, she watched the king pace frantically back and forth, muttering to himself, occasionally shaking his head or grunting.
When the door to the queen’s chambers opened, all movement in the sitting room ceased. It seemed that everyone had stopped breathing to hear every word the royal doctor could say.
All he did was shake his head.
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The potion was ready”she knew it. Maria had spent many months concocting and perfecting the potion with the most fertile of plants and deceased animal parts. The queen deserved perfection, and this was what Maria had been prepared for. She had tested it herself to make certain there were no violent side effects or taste issues. The only thing she found was the potion when taken in large doses created a minor lethargy.
“Why, don’t you look fetching today, Miss Maria.”
She looked up to see the kitchen aide Richard staring at her with adoring eyes. He bowed his head, pulling from behind his ear a white carnation and handing it to her.
“The petals never fall, did you know that?” she asked him.
He smiled in response. “I did.”
Again, he bowed as she took the tray and walked through the door. Balancing the tray on one hand, she felt around in her skirts in search of the stoppered bottle. This was not the first morning she would provide the queen with this potion, and it wouldn’t be that last. From what she could tell, the potion was working just as she had hoped. The queen appeared to be in perfect health in the final stages of her pregnancy.
She looked around, searching for any movement, and perked her ears for the far off sounds of footsteps on stone floor. She heard nothing, so she proceeded to pour the clear, tasteless liquid into the hot tea.
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Maria waited patiently in the garden as Their Majesties attended the departure of their son, The Royal Prince and heir to the throne of England. He was just over one month old and was being sent off to grow through adolescence outside the castle. The queen would be able to visit him a few times a year, but otherwise, the child would grow up with many tutors and servants in the country palace. Glowing with pride that she had assisted the queen, Maria clasped her hands together tightly, a smile plastered on her lips.
“What has you so happy? Met a man, have you? You know, I heard the kitchen aide Richard has been talking of trying to court you.” Looking up to see the pale face and probing eyes of Phyllis was one of the only things that could bring Maria down from the high she was on right now. The younger girl sat across from Maria so she was staring directly at her.
“Has he, now.”
“I suppose. Girls of our standard and blood are lucky to be courted by a man at all, instead of being arranged by our parents. He’s rather handsome, I suppose.”
“Yes, I suppose.” Phyllis looked haughty”perhaps it was the permanent sneer that graced her lips or the arch of her thin eyebrows. Maria’s features were much less sharp, but more bold “ darker skin and hair, as well as darker eyes”the generic traits of a pure Spanish girl.
“Her Majesty, the Queen of England,” the royal announcer recited, interrupting the stiff conversation. Immediately, the two girls sprung to their feet, falling into the natural curtsy before the queen entered the room. Maria could feel Phyllis’ eyes hot on the back of her neck as she awaited orders from the queen.
“You may rise. Your services are unnecessary this afternoon, Phyllis. Maria, follow me.”
Maria chanced a glance at her counterpart and saw a look of contempt flash across her stony features before she turned and walked from the room. Smiling slightly at having done nothing at all and receiving a reaction from Phyllis was rather satisfying.
“Would you like me to close the door, my Queen?”
“That would be lovely.”
Maria did so and waited by the door for the queen’s permission to proceed. When no orders were directed and the room remained in silence, Maria got the haunting feeling that she was about to be scolded. For what, she did not know, but she hoped against everything that the queen did not know of her secret addition to her morning tea.
“You are well aware that when you offered me your medicinal services, I turned them down for the reason that you are not a royally approved doctor. When I turned them down, I wished to have nothing to make the birth of my prince impure. But now I have information that you have, indeed, been supplementing my morning tea with a medicinal concoction.”
Frozen, Maria closed her eyes, unable to think of an excuse, a move to make. The queen knew of her unfaithful actions, but her faithful intentions.
“However,” the queen added, “I gave birth to a healthy son, and I may be so bold as to thank you.” Maria raised her head. “But I want you to know that these kinds of actions will not be tolerated if I may happen to be with child in the future. Are my orders understood?”
“I am your most faithful servant, You Majesty. Your word is law.”
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Powerful as she was, the queen found the fates did not favour her. As time passed, Maria watched from the shadows in agony as the royal prince died, as did two more stillborn children. A war began and ended. The queen was said to be the most fertile of queens, but for some reason she believed the Lord was cursing her. She told Maria on occasion that she wished for nothing but righteousness and an heir to the strong Tudor throne of England. England was her country. Spain had deserted her, just as Spain had deserted Maria, she said.
The queen’s sadness permeated her movements and actions. As she was older than the king, she was frightened that he would see her wasting valuable time on children who were unable to live.
All of these things were stated in sworn secrecy. Queen Katherine claimed only women who make the same journey are able to truly understand the losses of one another.
Every night Maria would walk in the garden, picking flowers and admiring the smell of fresh air. On occasion Richard the kitchen aide would accompany her on her moonlit walks, and she had grown to enjoy his carefree company. It was a nice change from the usual stiffness of with the other servants.
After her walks she would lock herself in her room, always careful to set the correct charms necessary to make sure she was never found doing magic. In these times, it was perilous if so much as a whisper was released about somebody doing anything out of the ordinary, especially something so blatant as potion making.
This night was no different, save for one thing.
“Maria! Wait.”
Richard’s footsteps pounded on the worn stone that led to her quarters as he ran to catch up with her hurried pace. She turned and curtsied, then kept going. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Wha”I thought… Have I gotten the wrong impression about what the past two years have been?”
“I don’t know. What impression have you?”
She stopped, turning to face the winded man, and saw his look of utter confusion.
“I mean, if you don’t know what I’m talking about, then we obviously don’t have the same impression.”
“Fair enough.” She turned and continued toward her room.
“Maria,” he called, his voice carrying a hint of plea. She turned once again, her expression guarded, for though she knew what he meant, she just didn’t want to face it right now. She could not be involved with a Muggle, even one as understanding and free as Richard. The times were plagued with witchcraft and disloyalty.
“Yes?”
“Will you take my hand in marriage? Run away with me, and we can be free of the pressures of this court.”
Taken aback, Maria’s heart jumped slightly, and the wind rushed for her lungs. Even though he was a Muggle, she could not help but be flattered by the proposal. He was spontaneous, just as she wished, but her loyalties for now were to the queen.
“Thank you, Richard, but I cannot accept your request. Perhaps once my services to the queen are no longer needed. But for now, all of my loyalty lays with Her Majesty.”
His outstretched hand dropped, as did the life in his eyes. She felt her heart tighten a bit at the look on his face, but she knew her answer was the truth, and she had a perfected potion brewing just beyond the doors to prove it.
“Very well.” He turned, stuffing his fingers in the waistband of his trousers and walking as if he had not just been rejected, his chest puffed out and his head high.
“One day,” Maria called, “my services to the queen will not be needed and my loyalties will be open to attach where necessary.”
He stopped, and she knew her words were heard. But then he walked away from her.
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Staring over the cauldron, she knew it was finished. The crystal clear liquid was the perfect thickness”almost as dense as water and just as scentless. After spending five long years with the same potion, after brewing it time and time again, gaining tips and tricks, she knew she had perfected her queen’s potion. Soon, a beautiful, healthy baby would be born.
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“Your Majesty, I have information that should be revealed to you.”
The queen nodded. She had never seen this servant before, so it must be some petty trader asking for a leg up in some area or another. Beckoning for him come closer, she dismissed her ladies-in-waiting and sat with attentive ears.
“One of your closest servants is a witch,” he began, and the queen instantly knew of whom he spoke: Maria. “She has been brewing potions and casting spells on you to make you infertile.”
He looked expectant, his eyes wide and his mouth sagging slightly, as if he were expecting some type of prize or reward for coming to the queen with this slander.
“I see,” was her short reply. “That is all.”
The servant looked confused, as if this was not at all the response he had been hoping for. But he obeyed the queen’s orders and left.
Looking down at her precisely folded hands, the queen let out a long sigh. “Witchcraft, hmmm?” she muttered to herself. “It mustn’t come to this.”
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“You wished to see me, my Queen?” Maria announced, falling into a curtsy.
Before the queen could greet her or comment about the amiable weather, she ordered, “Sit.”
Maria did so as if she was under the Imperious Curse, not hesitating or questioning the queen’s hard gaze.
“You have been convicted of witchcraft for brewing potions to make me infertile.”
Maria’s attention faded from the queen, her eyes hazing over and the queen’s words blurring away. No one knew of her potions. She cast rigorous spells every night to prevent anyone from knowing. The only way anyone could have found out is if they too were a witch or wizard and somehow found away through all of her spells and jinxes.
“I am unaware, my Queen, I have been faithful to your orders for three years.”
“I assumed you would respond as so. However, I realize that you were merely mixing my vitamins and herbs with my morning tea in attempt to make me as healthy as possible, am I correct?”
Looking up at the queen, Maria was at a loss for words. Maria’s own denial would not go far in a witchcraft trial, but the queen’s sworn word would save her.
As she bowed her head, another thought flashed through her mind. For whom else had the queen done these favours? Was the woman as honest and pure as Maria had believed her to be?
“Yes, Your Majesty, you are correct.”
“I will make an announcement to the court, then.”
“Thank you, my Queen.”
Maria left the room with her head bowed, taking the silence as dismissal. She walked in a haze as thoughts flew through her mind “ who to trust, who not to trust, and what to do upon her decision.
Looking up only when she made it to her door, she found herself face-to-face with Richard.
“Good morning, milady,” he bowed.
“It is a fine day. If you’ll excuse me, I would like to go into my quarters.”
“Would you be so kind as to accompany me on a walk through the gardens?”
She diverted her gaze away from the doorknob and looked up at him.
“I suppose, for old time’s sake,” she acquiesced, following him back the way she had just travelled, down the steps and through the roughly hewn entrance to the servant quarters.
“I wish to speak with you,” he began, walking a few steps ahead of her. She simply remained quiet, unsure of how to respond. She studied the shrubs and trees with interest as she always had on her excursions through the beautiful gardens. Vegetation had always fascinated her from the time she was young, perhaps because of her love of potion-making and everything that contributed to it.
He stopped walking and turned to her, a look of deep concentration creasing his brow. He lifted one hand and moved it around, as if stirring up the air would help him find the words he was apparently lacking.
“I find that I feel we have something in common, something very dangerous and something that is looked down upon in these troubled times. I do not, however, know how to approach this subject, so I am at a loss for words.
“But I need to broach this subject, because it could mean a different answer from what you gave me yesterday.”
Again, the heat rose to Maria’s cheeks, and her chest tightened a bit. She had always thought that love would find her later in life, that it would be something she would find a time for, but not now. This simple man who had very little to his name, however, evoked this reaction from her, and she couldn’t help but hope he would give a reason that would allow them happiness.
“I know this will be a strange request, but may I whisper something in your ear?”
“Excuse me!”
“Just quickly. This is not the sort of thing that should be spoken aloud in the presence of so many prying ears.”
“As you wish.”
He sidled over to her, leaning in, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered, “I’m a wizard.”
Instantly, Maria’s hand flew to her mouth and her eyes grew wide. Richard was a wizard, which meant he was the only one capable of knowing her secret and must have told the queen about her.
“I come to you now with this information, after so many years, because I heard you were being accused of witchcraft.”
He leaned away from her now, and even in this time of turmoil and confusion, she longed for his hot breath on her ear again.
“You have betrayed me. How do you know this?” she asked, her voice shaking, half in passion, and half in anger.
“One of the other chambermaids with whom you are acquainted saw you pour ‘an evil concoction,’ as she called it, into our queen’s morning tea. Therefore, the only thing I have indeed done is come to your side in this time of need.”
Maria bowed her head, unaware of how much she should reveal to Richard”the man she now knew was like her. All boundaries were down, everything was revealed, and Maria now knew the one thing that had held her back the previous day was no longer an issue.
Her confusion must have been obvious on her face, as Richard lifted her chin with a finger and looked at her, only her, as if she was the sole most important thing to him.
“Milady, what happens now?”
She could barely draw a breath. “I tell you this in confidence, Richard, because I trust you more than anyone here. Her Majesty the Queen has chosen to defend my name to the court. I am confused as to where this leaves me. My name will always be tainted by the court as associated with witchcraft.”
“Run away with me. Go pack your things and we will run.”
Her reputation was in shambles, the queen’s word was not all-powerful to her anymore. There was only Richard, who promised her the life she never thought she would be able to have. Turning, she held her skirts up as she ran back to her rooms.
“I’ll meet you in this spot in half an hour,” she called over her shoulder, glancing to see the exalted look upon Richard’s face. She couldn’t help but grin.