"Her Majesty is lucky that she had not contracted the sweating sickness."

       "Are you sure ? Her nose was bleeding earlier-"

      "The Queen is likely exhausted from caring for the Princess Elisabeth. Nose bleeding is a common symptom of over-exhaustion."

     "Will she be alright, then ?"

     "With adequate rest and treatment, she will regain her health in no time, Your Majesty."

I feel the side of the bed dip, and a person lays down next to me, a warm palm pressed against my cheek. I was too tired to open my eyes, but I was still conscious of my surroundings.

        A pair of soft lips nuzzle against the crook of my neck, and a faint voice whispers, "Anne, forgive me."

His began to intertwine with mine, and those lips rained kisses all over my shut eyes.
   
       "Anne, you must know that I never wanted to take Melissa Hasteburn as my concubine.

The Marquis of Hasteburn promised his support and an army if I would grant him his wish once I ascended the throne. I had not expected his wish to be this."

         I slowly open my eyes, and I could see his head resting on my chest, his thick dark curls tickling my cheek.

              "You betrayed me," I whispered bitterly, turning my face away.

              "Betrayed you ?"

              "You said that I would be your one and only. But look, you've taken a concubine without asking for my permission. How long will it take for you to become just like your uncle ?"

              "I am not my uncle, Anne," he says desperately. "Tell me, what can I do to make you happy ?"

Edmund was perched by my bedside, clutching my hand tightly, his eyes filled with hope.

               "Do you plan to impregnate her ?" I ask coldly.

He frowns, and hesitantly shook his head. "It is expected of me, Anne."

               "Is that so ?" I chuckle. "I only have one request. Can you fulfil this one request of mine ?"

                "Of course, Anne," he said hopefully.

I smile. "All the children born from your union with her shall be raised by me.

        They will call me Lady Mother when they are all grown up, and they will only know Melissa Hasteburn as their father's concubine, nothing more than that."

Edmund stares at me, perhaps horrified by my viciousness. I knew that I was being cruel and heartless, but this is the only way for me to protect my position.

It would be disastrous if Melissa Hasteburn produces a son before I do, and with the Marquis's interventions, it would not be long until Edmund names him as his heir.

But of course, that will never happen. As long as my heart still beats, I will do everything I can to ensure that it will be my offspring who inherits the throne.

          The following weeks were quiet and uneventful, until one late summer evening, when person knocked on the door of my study. 

Lord Oswald Hasteburn waddles inside, donning all the vestments befitting of a Grand Priest of the Arrinella Cordesane. His robes were made with the finest emerald green velvet, and the cuffed sleeves were decorated with bright, illustrious gold thread embroidery.

                 "Your Majesty," he greets as he bowed deeply, though his gesture was more like ridiculing rather than actual respect. "I believe you know why I came here to see you today."

                "I do not, Lord Oswald," I say coolly.

He sputters on his words. I had likely deviated from the script he had conjured up in his head, and now he is rendered speechless.

                  "It is the matter of your religion-"

                  "What about my religion ?"

His round face had become vividly red, and he inhaled sharply as if to calm himself down. "There had never been a queen of Phoenicia who practiced the southern belief before," he said through gritted teeth.

                  "Then, I am only the first of many others to come. My great great-grandfather, Caius Winterbournes, the first Earl of Rhyland must be so proud," I declared, watching in amusement as the Grand Priest turned purple like a sour grape.
 
                 "You have a great destiny, Your Majesty," he begins rather calmly. "You are given the task to reverse all the wrongdoings that your ancestors had committed, and lead the people of the south to the true faith."

I let out a high pitched laugh. "Is that so ? I am the 'chosen one' ?"

He nodded exasperatedly. "You have been chosen, Your Majesty! You have been given an incredibly important task, one that will change the course of history! And it is vital that you fulfill it!"

                    "Tell me, Lord Oswald," I say to him, smiling tenderly. "Each person in the east must give up one-thirds of their earnings to the cordesane every month. What do you do with all that money ?"

I abruptly stood up from my armchair and walked over to the Grand Priest, taking hold of his long sable-fur cloak.

     "Do you truly use the funds to feed the poor, or do you use it to purchase more gold thread to add to your robes ?"

Lord Oswald, now shaking with rage, roughly snapped his cloak away from my hands. "There are certain things that you must never question, Your Majesty!"

        "It was never about the good of the kingdom, was it Lord Oswald ?" I smile. "It is all about filling up your coffers. You collect money from the poor to fatten up your own pockets, then you preach to them about being grateful. You disgust me Lord Oswald, did you know that ?"

            "You will regret ever saying this, Your Majesty!" he shouts. "God will punish you!"

           "Get out of my sight," I sneered, roughly shutting the door in his face.

When I was certain that he was gone, I began to laugh hysterically until my sides hurt. This man, Tweedledee, actually thought that he would be able to convince to convert to their faith.

          Two hundred years ago, the blood of my Winterbourne ancestors had been shed in order to construct the grand Aglarose Cordesane, and the very same blood flows inside my veins today.

If I did as he wanted me to, then I do not deserve to call myself a Winterbourne anymore.

        "It appears that they made such a decision after all," Edmund says nonchalantly while putting the letter that my brother had sent back on the table.

Cecily had chosen to give up her title in order to keep her marriage, and it seems that they have finally consummated their union, as she is now a few weeks pregnant.

          "That decision promises the best outcome for them both. My brother will be able to provide her security, while she would enrich the Winterbourne blood."

          "Your brother's children shall have royal blood running in their veins," Edmund states, his eyes narrowed with intrigue. "What are you trying to do, Anne ?"

I knew that I had misspoken, and I plastered on a sweet smile on my face.

       "It doesn't matter whether they have royal  blood or not. Their mother is nothing more than the bad king's bastard. They will be able to do nothing as long as our line lives on."

                "And if it dies out ?" he retorts. "Then, a new king with the Winterbourne name shall rise up, no ?"

A chill ran down my spine. I briskly reach for his hand, holding onto it gently. "No, of course it won't die out," I whisper.

      Edmund smiles, and he said, "Come sit here, Anne."

He pulls me onto his lap, and his arms wrapped around my waist, his hands that were intertwined with mine rests on my thighs.

        "Henri du Terre, the Crown Prince of Terrawyn plans to invade us in summer," he says.

"Edward had bastardised Cecily, but not Margaret. Now, that fool Henri has claimed himself as the King of Phoenicia, and his wife Margaret as the Queen."

I let out a gasp of shock, briskly turning around to face him. "How did you know of this ?"

                "I have a few spies loitering around in the Terrawinian court," my husband smiles, though it barely reached his eyes. "They say that Margaret is the true heir to the throne, and that I am nothing more than an usurper."

                "You are the King, Edmund," I reassure him. "She may have a legitimate claim, but she is married to a foreign prince. The people will never accept her."

                "She has an heir, Anne," Edmund muttered bitterly. "A son. A boy named Charles."

His dark gaze met mine, and he pulled me closer to him until his face was mere inches away from my own. "We must have an heir, Anne," he whispers.

               "Then, no one will ever dispute us again. No one will dare to challenge our authority."

His soft lips were attached to the perfumed skin of my neck, his hands pulling my nightgown apart, but I was unresponsive to his advances. Instead, I was frozen with fear.

         Every king shared the common fear of dying without leaving behind an heir, and my husband was no exception.

As I laid quietly in his arms, I wondered if King Edward had once said the same thing to his first wife, Queen Helene.

He must have been so warm and gentle at first, but how many miscarriages and stillbirths would it take for those sweet nothings to turn into a sickening cold silence ?

The young Edward had rode all the way to the Marquis' home in Lansbury just to ask for Helene's hand in marriage, and for the first five years of their marriage, it was all sunshines and rainbows.

          But Helene grew older, and all she had given to Edward were two girls, one of whom is said to be cursed.

Prince George was her last hope, the heir that they had long awaited.
When the Prince died, Helene went insane, and no one really wants a madwoman on the throne.

And so, the King discarded her like a used rag, as if she had never meant anything to him. She was barely cold in her grave when he took her younger sister as his second wife.

         Every queen shared the common fear of being put aside for another, and I am no exception.

A/N: Hi! Please vote and comment on this chapter if you liked it ❤💫 I plan for The Red Throne to have around twenty more chapters, and once I finish this story I will start focusing on Cecily's story. Also, I plan to put my other stories on hiatus so that I can focus on finishing The Red Throne, so expect around two updates per week. Love you all ❤