a foolish boy,” she said at last. “How could you possibly know what to do with this great kingdom?”
“I’ve been ruling this great kingdom for years,” he pointed out.
She scoffed. “You call that ruling? You were a puppet of the council, nothing more. And look what we’ve come to. E∂ians running about freely, causing havoc at every turn, savaging the land, defiling our very way of life. You have let this country slide to the edge of ruin. The E∂ians are determined to bring us into an age of darkness and perversity, and you are helping them.”
“I am an E∂ian,” he said. “Like my father before me. I am my father’s son.”
“And I am my father’s daughter,” Mary replied hotly. “I am his firstborn child, his only true heir. He may have played at marriage with a bunch of E∂ian harlots, but my mother was his only legitimate wife. Which makes me, and not you, who are basically a bastard, the rightful ruler of England.”
Huh, thought Edward. He hadn’t been expecting her to argue. His mouth opened, then closed again. He wanted to say, Wait, no, that’s not right at all. I’m the rightful ruler. Mary can’t be. Because she’s a woman.
But that logic didn’t make sense to him anymore. He didn’t believe it.
He couldn’t think of what to say. He was, quite literally, speechless.
At his silence, a triumphant gleam appeared in Mary’s eyes.
“I am the queen,” she said, drawing herself up still further. “All my life I’ve watched you wrest that title from me, you a flagrant heretic, a pathetic, trifling boy. You talk of stealing, but it’s you who are the thief here. You are the usurper.”
“No,” a voice called out from the back of the room. An authoritative voice.
Bess.
Edward spun around to watch his other sister come up the aisle.
Bess’s gray eyes narrowed as she looked at Mary. “Edward is the rightful heir to the throne of England, because our father named him as his heir. The king can name whoever he wishes to succeed him.”
“But Father only named him because he was deceived by the foul E∂ians into casting aside his good and virtuous wife.” Mary pressed. “And only because Edward was a boy.”
Bess smiled knowingly. “Wrong, sister. Father left his throne to Edward because he knew, even then, that Edward had the heart of a king. Father knew that Edward would be generous and thoughtful when it came to the welfare of his people, and wise in his decisions. Father knew that Edward would be the best choice for this country.”
Huh, Edward thought again, frowning. He might have been flattered at these words, but deep down he knew that they weren’t true. When he’d “ruled” before, he hadn’t given much thought at all to the well-being of his people. In truth, he’d known nothing about his people. And he certainly hadn’t been wise. He’d done what he was told, signed what they’d put before him, agreed to the course of action the men around him informed him was the correct one. He had been a puppet, a king in name only. And his father had chosen Edward solely because he’d been born a son and not a daughter.
Bess came to stand beside him. “Edward is the true king,” she said. “It’s Edward who will lead England to peace and prosperity. He will make England great.”
She turned to address Mary. “You would have led us all to ruin. You who conspired to kill your own brother and pilfer his crown. You who threaten to tear the very fabric of our nation in two. You’re a disgrace to the royal blood that runs through your veins.”
“Arrest her!” Mary shouted at the guards. “Off with her head!”
The guards didn’t move. They looked to Edward. He said nothing.
“The game is up, Mary,” Bess continued smoothly. “You’ve lost.”
“No!” The word echoed in the room. Then Mary let out a bellow of rage and barreled toward Bess with outstretched hands, as if she would choke the life from her sister.
But before she could reach Bess, a light flashed.
The onlookers gave a collective gasp.
Where Mary had been standing, there was now a chubby gray mule.
The first person to laugh was an elderly woman near the front of the room—a stranger to court, people would later remark, but a distinctive figure who gave everyone who played at card games a peculiar sense of déjà vu.
“Oh dear. What an ass!” the old lady cackled, and then everybody began to giggle while the old mule