"You can drink it now. You must bear with the taste. It is a bit...bitter," Mary added after William spat out so of the tea. "It is not sothing I usually make, but if you want it to work, you must drink all of it."
William set the cup down for a mont. He didn’t like the taste of the tea.
It was repulsive, but he was desperate to have another son.
William watched as Mary easily sipped on her tea. "Your tea slls better. Did you prepare different teas?"
"You said you didn’t like tea as I made it for myself, so I made your tea to suit your taste. Should I give you mine? I thought you would have been able to bear with the one I made for you. I shall drink your-"
"No, no," William waved off Mary.
If Mary could drink his tea with ease, then there should be no issue for him.
William drowned the tea, enduring the horrible taste that followed. If this was what it took for him to have many boys, then he would drink it every morning.
William touched his chest as an unsettling feeling ford there and in his stomach. He coughed, thinking the tea wasn’t going down well.
Mary set her cup down and studied William. She had been eager to see how well her mix worked.
"I think I am going to spend my ti studying more tea alongside raising the boys. It is good to have a hobby, so I don’t find myself bored," Mary said, thinking of what Ophelia told her. "I like Lady Hastings. She is the first friend I had in years."
"Nonsense. You had my family," said William.
"Your family? What made you think I wanted to bother myself with your family? I don’t want to be surrounded by people who only know how to speak of their expectations to have fill your ho with sons. Your family are not my friends," Mary said, setting the record straight.
Mary didn’t think of her own family as her friends.
They could all burn and die for throwing her into William’s arms and leaving her.
"Y-You," William pointed his finger at Mary in disbelief at how she spoke to him. "You have," he stopped to cough.
William gripped his chest where the pain hit him tenfold. He looked down at his empty cup as the reason for his current state.
"What did you give ?" William asked, keeping his eyes on Mary as he tried to stand up.
"I gave you tea to help with your troubles. Do not try to run, William. It is my turn to speak," said Mary.
William struggled to stand up. There was pressure on his chest as though soone was squeezing him, and discomfort in his back.
"You should sit, William. You’re not going to make it to see the doctor. The servants all hate you, so they won’t offer you a hand. You talk down to the n and make the won uncomfortable with your advances. You’ll only amuse them if you run for help," Mary said.
Mary stood up from her chair and walked over to where William struggled to force him back into his chair. She gripped his shoulders, tempted to dig her nails into his skin, but that would only spoil her plans.
"You have made my hell for years. From the mont I said I do to you, I have been your servant rather than your wife. I never wanted your children, but you pushed them upon . I should have killed you on our wedding night and fled," Mary said, regretting she had not been so bold then.
"The only good that ca from this union was my sons. I shall raise them to be better than their father. When they achieve all that I know they can, I will make sure your na is forgotten," Mary said, her hands pushing down to keep William seated.
"It has been a long ti coming, but I shall reap the rewards of the life forced upon . I shall take all that you own, and let it be mine for now, before I give it to my sons. Your family will co, but they too will share this fate with you," Mary said, looking forward to the visit.
"This is not the future I wanted. It is not the woman I wanted to be, but all of you left with no choice. I won’t have any more of your sons, nor will I be your property for you to command. I shall be free," Mary said, a weight slowly lifting from her shoulders.
Mary looked forward to the day her identity would no longer be William’s wife. She wanted to enjoy just being Mary as well as a mother.
Mary loosened her hold on William once he no longer put up a strong fight. She heard him grasping for air, and from where she stood, she saw his hand clutching his chest.
Mary walked away from William to position herself to get a good look. She had been waiting for this mont for years. She studied so her plan would be successful.
Her hobby had not only saved her in her tis of boredom, but it also provided an escape from a loveless marriage.
Mary stood still, even when William tried reaching his hand out to her for help. Never once in their five years of marriage had she loved him for a mont to attempt to save him now.
Mary thought of where she would bury him. She didn’t want his corpse resting peacefully on what was now her ho.
William struggled in his final monts. He couldn’t help himself. All he witnessed was his wife not moving to help him.
William’s hand fell from his chest as his battle was lost. He succumbed to the poison.
His body leaned forward, with vomit slipping between his parted lips. William’s head would reach the table if not for his stomach in the way.
Mary moved only to tidy the table and start getting rid of her evidence. She prepared herself ntally to be the weeping wife who lost her husband suddenly.
Mary needed to send for the doctor and the guards, as well as alert the Hastings’ castle of the death. Her greatest challenge would co from William and her family finding out about the death, but Mary wasn’t worried. She had long been preparing for this mont, and she was ready.
Mary knew both families would co searching for what they would claim, but there was nothing for them to take. All that surrounded Mary belonged to her and her sons.
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