Her Majesty’s Secret Service

025. Marriage Crisis

As the queen’s procession left Dartford and approached London, rumors about the queen began to spread from Dartford.

Stories of the queen harvesting with the peasants. Tales of the queen herself wielding a sickle and harvesting wheat with the peasants spread faster than the wind.

“What? The queen herself? That’s the most foolish lie I’ve ever heard. The queen holding a sickle and cutting wheat, where in the world is there such a king!”

“It’s not just one or two who have seen it. All the farmers in Dartford say they witnessed it; are you saying they’re all lying?”

“But have you heard why Her Majesty went to Dartford? A farmer there was swindled by merchants and lost his land, and she went to retrieve it!”

“The queen herself, for just a peasant? If such a queen has ascended the throne, perhaps life will become a bit more bearable?”

The rumor that the queen had set out on a procession for the peasants, and not only reclaimed the land but also harvested herself, spread at an astonishing speed.

This unprecedented image of the queen, captured in this story, was provocatively received across all social strata. Of course, the ones who welcomed this story the most were, without a doubt, the peasants. The more the rumor spread, the more they could feel the merchants’ villainy on their skin.

Thanks to the peasants’ support, it took less than a month for this story to spread throughout the southern part of England.

“Richard. I’m sorry to call upon you when you’ve just returned, but I wanted to ask about the rumor circulating in London. Really… did the queen herself harvest?”

And the old man sitting in front of Richard, who could be called the queen’s closest confidant, Steve, had long heard the rumor. Surprisingly, even before the queen’s arrival.

The speed at which the rumor spread had long overtaken the queen’s procession. For that reason, by the time the queen’s procession returned to London, the rumor of the harvesting queen had long been widespread throughout the city.

“Yes, I confirmed it with a soldier who went out with Her Majesty. He said she indeed wielded a sickle.”

“Really? So the rumor is true.”

Upon hearing that the rumor was true, Bishop Steve smiled faintly.

Richard couldn’t understand why Bishop Steve seemed oddly happy.

“You seem strangely pleased.”

After all, the queen had seized half of the earl’s property.

There was a document stating that the earl ‘voluntarily’ donated his property, so the backlash would be somewhat less, but for those opposed to the queen, it would serve as a reason for them to unite.

“Do I appear so? I too have aged, it seems. To show such expression.”

“Yet you remain vigorous.”

“Ah, flattery as well. I know my body best. And why do I seem joyful, you ask? How could I not be, upon realizing Her Majesty’s wisdom!”

“Her Majesty… wise?”

Richard couldn’t hide his doubt. To him, it seemed the queen had acted merely on impulse.

“As you know, Her Majesty was not properly educated. Yet, who would have thought she’d divert attention in such a radical way? A king harvesting crops, an earl offering his wealth—mere trifles compared to this.”

“Really? Her Majesty thought of all that?”

“Indeed. Look around. Everywhere, they speak of Her Majesty’s harvest. Not a word of the Earl of Kent’s donation. It’s not the peasants’ talk, but that of London’s citizens and nobility.”

Hearing Bishop Steve’s explanation, Richard’s eyes widened in surprise. Each of the queen’s seemingly simple actions was calculated.

“If that’s true, then Her Majesty is indeed wise.”

“Now do you see why I’m pleased? With such a wise sovereign, we’ll soon eradicate the Anglican heretics… It’s a relief. God has not forsaken this kingdom yet.”

This event convinced Bishop Steve that Queen Mary was the only monarch to save England from false beliefs.

The queen had seized the earl’s wealth in a way even he, a veteran of politics for decades, had not anticipated.

Indeed, he looked forward with great anticipation to how she would astonish him in the eradication of the heretics.

* * *

“Your Majesty, it’s been a while.”

“It has, Simon. How fares Karl?”

The coronation was now only a week away.

Nations closely allied with England began sending their envoys, the first being from the Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain, Charles V.

“Still in good health. On behalf of His Imperial Majesty, I congratulate you on your ascension. I’ve heard an amusing tale on my way here. ‘The Harvesting Queen’… It seems you hold the peasants dear.”

“Have you heard that rumor too? Well, it’s nothing significant. So, there’s a secret missive from Karl, you say?”

Upon arriving in London, Ambassador Simon immediately requested a private audience with the Queen.

The demand to dismiss the maids and guards might seem impertinent at first glance, but Mary consented upon Simon’s whisper that he brought an imperial secret missive.

At Mary’s word, Simon produced the Emperor’s secret missive from within his cloak and handed it over.

Receiving the missive, Mary verified the Emperor’s seal and promptly broke the seal to read its contents.

“Simon, has Karl really sent me…”

Mary’s expression was a complex tapestry upon reading the missive. She seemed pleased, yet pondered the Emperor’s intentions.

“Yes. His Imperial Majesty desires an answer from Your Majesty.”

“With Felipe… you mean?”

“Yes. The details of the marriage proposal, such as the dowry, can be discussed later. If it’s difficult to decide now, you may take your time to respond.”

It was an unexpected proposal.

Felipe, eleven years her junior, was considered Europe’s most eligible bachelor, a man of impeccable standing.

At the young age of 26, he held the title of Duke of Milan, not to mention being the heir to Spain, the mightiest nation in Europe.

For Mary, a 37-year-old spinster queen, such a marriage proposal was an unparalleled stroke of fortune.

“I must… think it over… before I can answer. Would it be acceptable to give my response after the coronation?”

“As Your Majesty wishes.”

Mary did not know why Karl would make such an offer. One thing was certain: there is no kindness without reason.

Mary began to ponder, then ponder again, the hidden intent behind this luxurious marriage proposal.

* * *

It had been quite some time since she returned from the progress.

Since returning from Dartford, I’ve been leading a similar life every day. Preparing meals, and at night, going to the Queen’s chamber to interpret the blueprints.

And so, the Queen’s coronation was suddenly only a week away. Today, too, I was called to her chamber to interpret the blueprints.

“Your Majesty, I have finished interpreting this page. Shall we move on to the next…”

“Hm? Oh, yes, sorry about that.”

The task of transferring the Constitution’s blueprints had long been completed.

What I was interpreting now was the blueprint of the ‘HMS Victory,’ much larger than the Constitution. The Queen had chosen the Victory for the next interpretation because she liked the name.

“Your Majesty, are you worried about something?”

Until yesterday, the Queen’s eyes, looking at the Victory’s blueprints, were full of enthusiasm, but today, that enthusiasm was nowhere to be found.

The shadows under her eyes suggested she hadn’t slept well.

To think that the Queen, who used to smile at the gradually interpreted blueprints of the Victory, would show such a face. Could it be that the coronation, now less than a week away, was weighing on her?

“No, it’s not something to worry about. I’m just a bit tired from meeting the envoys, so don’t worry.”

With the coronation approaching, it was natural for the number of meetings with envoys from other countries to increase. With that thought, I continued reading the Victory’s blueprints.

“Logan, can you still not write…?”

The Queen spoke to me in a weary voice. She had never been like this before, and I didn’t understand why she was today.

“I’m… I’m sorry. It’s my shortcoming…”

“Learn to write as quickly as possible. How long must I write for you?”

Her tone was weary, but the emotion mixed in her voice was unmistakably irritation.

Good heavens, the Queen showing irritation. I couldn’t help but be surprised by this new side of her.

If I said I had learned to write, it was obvious that I would have to write. The Queen writing herself was also because I couldn’t write, wasn’t it?

“Perhaps I should confess the truth to Bishop Steve… No, he must be busy with the coronation preparations.”

It was truly strange. The queen, who so loved drafting plans, now seemed to want to delegate the task to someone else.

Worried that the queen was hysterical from the fatigue of coronation preparations, I cautiously broached the subject.

“Your Majesty, wouldn’t it be best to rest for about a week until the coronation is over? You seem very tired.”

“Ha. For you to say such a thing, how shameless. Are you telling me to stop interpreting the plans for a whole week?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“Enough with the excuses! Just get on with the reading.”

“Yes…”

There must have been something that happened today.

I heard from Marco that the queen had a private lunch with a foreign ambassador the day before yesterday. Could that be the reason for her irritability?

“I shall take my leave now.”

I wanted to escape the queen’s room as soon as I finished the interpretation, fearing she might throw a tantrum at any moment. After all, one avoids a typhoon, not confronts it.

“Wait a moment.”

No, it seemed difficult to escape.

* * *

Mary had not slept properly for two days straight. Even the joy of interpreting the plans was no longer there.

She couldn’t focus on her pen, preoccupied with what Carl’s intentions might be. And the thought of whether she, an old woman, would suit Felipe gave her a headache.

She had no choice but to suffer in silence. This worry was not something she could share with others.

‘If I confide this to Steve, he will surely oppose it…’

In fact, anyone other than Bishop Steve would certainly advise her to reject this marriage proposal.

If Mary were to have a child, that child would become the sole heir. She couldn’t help but fear that a mistake might lead to England falling into the hands of the Habsburgs.

Moreover, it was clear that it would give the remaining opposition a pretext. ‘The queen sells the country to Spain.’ What a fine justification that would be.

Due to various worries, I couldn’t sleep properly, and even the smallest things began to irritate me.

As I quietly continued to draft, Logan, who had been learning to write for almost a month but still couldn’t write, didn’t look so endearing anymore.

“Then, you may leave…”

Eventually, it was about the time when Logan had finished interpreting and was about to leave.

‘Yes, Logan was different from Steve. Perhaps Logan could give me an answer.’

A memory I had forgotten due to irritation came back to me.

When I had extorted, no, graciously accepted the estate from the earl, Logan’s advice had been of great help. Unlike others, Logan gave advice that achieved what he wanted.

Mary pondered deeply about what she wanted. It was certain. She wanted to accept this marriage proposal. To have the most perfect man in Europe as her husband.

Carl’s intentions were no longer important. She wanted to accept this marriage proposal not as a queen, but as a woman.

Logan would surely offer advice for her benefit this time as well. The queen believed so.

In Dartford too, hadn’t Logan been of help with the matter of Jane Grey?

“I have something to ask of you.”

“Speak, Your Majesty.”

“The day before yesterday, a marriage proposal came for me.”

“A marriage proposal, you say?”

At the word ‘marriage proposal’ from Mary’s lips, Logan’s face crumpled. It was the expression of someone who had heard something they wished they hadn’t.

Footnote:

*When Queen Mary decided to marry Philip, all of England united to dissuade the queen. Whether Catholic or Anglican, peasant or noble. Even Steve Gardiner, her closest confidant, tried to dissuade the queen, but the result was… you know, don’t you?