Sunday Photo Fiction: Fate Awaits

Traitor's Gate

A Mixed Bag

The marriage lasted a mere 28 days; now Mary found herself locked in the tower, awaiting her fate. Admittedly, her situation was dire, but at least they had not brought her through the Traitor’s Gate. Unlike her sister Jane, death was off the table.

Still, death would be preferable to a life without Thomas. Mary, dwarfishly proportioned, was an abomination, Courtiers made no attempt to conceal their titters as she passed. Not Thomas, however. He looked beyond her ugliness and saw purity. Now, because of her, his love had become his death sentence. She cursed that first drop of royal blood that contaminated her life, and her parents who conceived such an atrocity.

My birth sealed my fate, she thought.

Maybe if she had been less rash. Her cousin may not have granted permission to marry, but not asking; that was unforgivable. Now she would never know.

The clank of the large iron door jerked Mary away from her thoughts. The Queen’s guard stood in the portal.

“Her majesty awaits,” he said stoically.

Nothing could have changed things, she told her herself. Fate controls our destiny.

Reminding herself that she was a Grey, Mary boldly walked through the door.

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Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge to write a short 200-word story inspired by a photograph. This week’s photo is provided by A Mixed Bag.

 

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