“No,” I stated, my heart drumming through my ears. “Hiding isn’t going to solve this.”
“Only until it is over,” Nick said, tugging me toward the path that wound past the sunken fishponds toward the kitchens.
I wrestled free. “This will never be over!” My breath was wild…jagged…but I kept speaking. “This is the end of the road, Nick.” I couldn’t see through my escalating tears. “I’ve loved being with you, and even here in Tudor England—believe me, I have loved you more than I ever thought possible—but we can’t do this to the world anymore. I have to leave and never come back.”
He shuffled back a step like my words were bullets. He shook his head with a slow dread, his startled eyes pinned to mine. “No, Emmie.”
“The world doesn’t want me here,” I pleaded, tears spilling from my eyes. “I don’t belong in this time, and the world knows it. It’s like it’s spitting me back out. People are dying.”
“I will die without you!”
I stretched out a shaky hand, the blue-diamond ring like a lightbulb on my thumb. “Then come with me. It’s what the curse wanted. I was never meant to be here; you were meant to come to my world. That’s what was meant to happen.” I gestured at the palace’s stifling redbrick walls. “I know you want to escape all this pressure you constantly feel…it’s why you love going to Robin House, where life feels safe and simple. It’s why you chose to get married there!”
“Enough!” he hissed, folding an arm around his back like I might physically yank him into the future against his will. “You will not do this to me. We made our choice.”
A cannon blast made us both jump. Nick gaped up at the palace wall, his forehead creased with distress. But when he stared back at me, his expression had hardened with resolve.
“You will not dare give up on us, Emmie. You know I can never abandon my kingdom, leaving my sister to civil war and bloodshed. When I asked for your hand in marriage, you made a vow that you would never take leave of me again. I have wagered all I have for you and given you everything in return…I made you a queen! God willing, you will be the mother to a king—why is it not enough?”
“You still don’t get it!” I implored. “I don’t want the kingdom, the riches, the pressures. I didn’t want to be a queen…I only came here for you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted out of this.”
“So, it is I who is now not enough,” he observed, tears clouding his eyes.
“Nick, look at what’s happening here!” I pointed toward the screams and shouts floating from the palace. The way he was looking at me—the absolute heartbreak in his face—hacked me to pieces. “Nothing lasts forever,” I said, the agony in my chest making me curl forward.
“We do,” Nick said, struggling to speak. “We last forever.” He gripped the sleeve over my wrist, finding my bare skin with his fingers. “Do not let go,” he pleaded. “Ne dimittas.”
I plucked the gold wedding band off my finger and slapped it into Nick’s palm. I knew he loved me, but not enough to trade his kingdom for it. He’d beg me to stay, but he’d never come with me and leave Tudor England…and every moment I stayed, I put him further in danger.
I wanted to freeze time so I could memorize every speck of him—a man I couldn’t imagine living without—but he’d become a fuzzy silhouette through my weeping eyes.
When Nick lurched forward, begging me once again to hide with him, I exhaled with frustration and pressed my hands to his silky doublet, physically shoving him toward the court.
“If you’re not going to come with me, then go away,” I ordered. “Go home. This is over now, do you understand? We tried, we really tried, but it’s done, okay? Pretend I died…pretend I drowned in the river. You’ll be free to marry again. Someone the people accept; someone right for you. Maybe you can still have Henriette.”
I couldn’t look at him but heard him crying—a sound I never wanted to hear again. I couldn’t listen—I needed to leave before he broke my resolve.
“Just get away from me!” I screamed.
Nick jerked back a step, shaking his head like he was flicking away flies. He then cleared his throat, his tear-stained voice barely his own.
“If you wish to take leave of my heart so resolutely, then so it shall be. May God be with you, Emmeline.”
With those abrupt words, he spun and disappeared toward the palace like he’d only ever been a figment of my imagination.
I sank to the gravel and shuddered with sobs, hating myself for every mistake I’d made. How could I have ever thought I could be the fierce girl who became a queen and ruled the world like a badass. If only this was a fairytale instead of the real world, where girls like me didn’t get to become Tudor queens.
I stepped over the knot gardens until I reached a patch of earth concealed by a row of manicured hedges. Grateful to be protected from the bitter wind, I lay on the freezing soil and shut my eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, curling up into a fetal position. I lay there in a quivering ball, repeating my apology to Nick, Alice, Bridget, Kit, Lucinda—and everyone who meant something to me here. I begged for the oblivion of sleep to free me from my pain before it carried me home to where I truly belonged.
When footsteps neared, I froze, unable to breathe. Multiple pairs of boots were marching along the path nearest to where I lay.
“She hides here!” shouted a commanding voice that I knew too well.
My terrified gaze rolled upward to recognize Nick’s broad silhouette through the glimmer of a lantern. The wobble of light moved, revealing a massive, familiar figure beside the king. I scrambled up, trying to edge away. Henry Howard stood beside Nick, a swarm of unkempt men gathered behind them waving pitchforks and hammers. My chest tightened with so much fear that it hurt to breathe.
Howard lifted his lamp to see me better. I crouched to escape it, but the light followed me. I was a mouse in a cage. Why was Nick just standing next to him like the two were old mates? Why weren’t they tearing each other to shreds? Why wasn’t Nick protecting me?
“Let the king speak!” spat Howard in his bullish tone. “Majesty, what say you? Will you persist in your offense of our gracious God by once more naming this heretic as our queen?”
My gaze flew to Nick, who looked down at me with a face absent of life. For the first time, he looked like the man in the terrifying portrait with the dead eyes and the cruel mouth. He was the embodiment of Nicholas the Ironheart.
“My lords,” he said loudly, “I swear on my soul that this girl before me, who once bewitched your devoted king in a manner most vile and depraved, is a monstrous traitor to both king and God.”
My head shook wildly, gratified men smirking down at me from all directions. Henry Howard glowed with smug victory, baring his teeth at me like the animal he was.
“By order of the king, bring her to the Tower to await trial on charges of heresy and high treason against the King’s Majesty,” the former duke bellowed.
“God save the king!” the men called in response.
“Nick, please!” I said.
The sky blurred as my husband bent over me, the scent of fresh roses finding my nose. I searched for love in his eyes but found only storms of anger. He took hold of my thumb and yanked the blue-diamond ring right off it.