Free In Defense of the Queen by Michelle Diener Page A

difficulty in moving it down the steep stairs.
    The back wall of the bedroom was of grey stone, part of the Bell Tower which the Lieutenant’s Lodgings leant up against. She could feel the tower looming over her, cold and harsh.
    “The bell will ring each night to call the curfew. I will interpret the Queen’s orders concerning you to include the freedom of the grounds. You can take your ease on the Green, but when the bell rings, you must return to your rooms.” Kilburne stood, uncomfortable, in the doorway of the bedchamber. “I am sure Parker will send your servant soon.”
    “Servant?” She lifted her head.
    “I gave leave for a servant. He will have free passage from the Tower, but if he is outside the Tower after curfew, he won’t be allowed back in until the next morning. And he cannot leave the grounds between curfew and morning, either.”
    “My thanks.”
    He looked away. Her gratitude seemed to prick his conscience.
    “I left my satchel in the Queen’s Chambers. Can I have it returned?” She walked towards him, and he edged out of the doorway, back into the main chamber, relieved.
    “What is in it?” His voice took on a sharper edge, suspicious.
    “My pigments and brushes. My parchment and charcoal. I have a number of commissions to complete for the King, and I will need them if I am to fulfil my obligations.”
    “What were you doing this morning with the Queen?” Kilburne went to stand by a window, looking out over the Green.
    “I was there to present her with a portrait of the Princess Mary.”
    “A portrait? I saw none.” He turned, his eyes narrowed.
    “The Queen held it in her hands when she spoke to you.” Susanna kept her tone mild. “It is on an oak panel, about this big.” She showed him with her hands. “A small portrait the Queen can take with her when she travels with the King. Something she can look at whenever she wants.”
    She saw he recalled the Queen was holding something in her hands, and nodded slowly. “What has Wolsey against you?”
    She shrugged. “A few months ago I prevented him from achieving a goal. And he has never forgiven me for it.”
    Kilburne stared at her a long time, as if trying to understand how a woman with no powerful connections could stand in the Cardinal’s way. “There is more to this than I wish to know.”
    “There is more to this than I wish to know.” She crossed her arms in front of her, and stared back at him. “And yet, here we both stand.”
    Kilburne shook himself, as if trying to wake from a dream, or shake water from his eyes. “My men will not harm you again.” He moved to the door.
    “They want to.”
    Her words stopped him dead. “My apologies for what happened. I don’t think it will happen again.”
    “You’ll forgive me if I’m not reassured that you are not absolutely certain.”
    He rubbed his face with his hands. “You are in more trouble than I first thought.”
    Susanna smiled as he stepped out her rooms, and knew Kilburne’s hesitation before swinging shut the door was because of the bleakness he saw in her face. She waited for the click as the door closed. Tightened her arms in front of her. She was in trouble, that was certain, and being a prisoner in the Tower was the least of it.

 
    Chapter Fourteen
     
    he would rather govern rich men than be rich himself; since for one man to abound in wealth and pleasure when all about him are mourning and groaning, is to be a gaoler and not a king.
    Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)
     
    H orenbout stared at Parker, mouth open. “The Tower.” He stuttered out the words.
    “She was arrested this morning.”
    Lucas jumped to his feet, gasping, and leapt for the basin in the corner of the room.
    Parker watched him dispassionately as he vomited and heaved, until at last he stood, spent and shaking, his breathing harsh.
    “I never meant . . .” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I never thought . . .”
    Parker straightened. He had