Chapter 94

For forty-some years.

In that long expanse of time, which could constitute a person’s entire life, the Queen had ruled England, enacting many fine laws and appointing many great ministers to heighten her glory. She was cunning enough, and persistent enough, to win in the struggle for power. If she hadn’t been, she would have long since departed for the next world.

The Queen’s bluff about establishing a standing army was a result of that cunning and persistence at work. For a long period, she had meticulously swayed public opinion in London, spreading rumors in the streets.

‘The Queen intends to raise an army!’ 

‘An army that will be loyal only to the Crown!’

She had then mobilized vast resources to move the Royal Guard, creating a tense atmosphere. It was a carefully orchestrated performance designed to make her bluff appear menacing to any observer. As a result, no one dared to quibble about the succession any longer. No one could bother the Queen to her face.

It seemed she had won yet another victory. It seemed the rightful Queen of England had once again secured her due.

However. She had overlooked one fact.

“Consider it. What will happen when that witch, that harlot, has an army at her command!”

“B-but that’s absurd, isn’t it? The English Crown couldn’t possibly have the funds for…”

“It does.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…Don’t tell me.”

“That’s right, Virginia! With the immense funds flowing from there…!”

She now had Virginia at her back. She had become too powerful for the English to simply dismiss her words as a bluff. The Queen’s power was more solid than ever, leaving the conspirators little room to doubt her words.

And that was not all.

“Wasn’t this all foretold from the moment that man, Walter Raleigh, began to build up the Royal Guard?”

“Indeed! And when he had the Earl of Essex killed on charges of attempting to assassinate a foreign head of state, there was no one left to keep him in check!”

Furthermore, ever since Walter Raleigh, as both ‘Saint’ and Captain of the Royal Guard, had led the Guard to save London, its presence had grown. The number of guardsmen, once only a few dozen, had swelled to two or three times that size, for the stated purpose of patrolling the slums. Although Raleigh’s stays in England had become infrequent, diminishing the Guard’s practical role, everyone still remembered the sight of them patrolling the slums.

If the scale of that Guard were to grow… If the Queen’s army were to become even stronger… It would be a catastrophe.

And so, the fearful began to gather. Those who held grievances against the Church of England, like the Puritans and the Catholics, joined hands. And the various nobles who had been exiled from the Queen’s court began to move.

“We need at least five hundred sympathizers within London. To seize Her Majesty the Queen and deliver our various demands…”

“Deliver demands? No, what about crowning another as king instead…?”

The plan grew more concrete.

“First, we’ll sway the city councilors at St. Paul’s Cathedral, then we secure the Queen.”

“The order must be reversed. We must secure the Queen first, only then will we be able to secure the councilors.”

And more detailed.

The Queen’s spymaster, Robert Cecil, who should have been monitoring them, was already busy. At that very moment, a rumor was spreading that Spanish forces were about to land in Northern Ireland. The navy was too far away. Drake was somewhere in the distant Atlantic, doing his best to plunder the Spanish fleet.

And so. Over several months, hundreds of people gathered in London. Essex House, the dilapidated residence of the late Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, was secretly fortified.¹ The danger had reached the very foot of the Queen’s throne.

***

It was still early in the morning. The Queen slowly rose after finishing her prayers and, as always, completed her makeup. Then, Saintess Margaret Lawrence walked into her chambers to check the condition of her teeth and her complexion.

“Your Majesty, this is not good. What time did you go to sleep yesterday?”

“A bit late. Aren’t you curious what I was doing that kept me up so…”

“Aaaah!”

“I was doing nothing but reading a book. What were you thinking?”

“Th-that is… Nothing, Your Majesty.”

“Hahaha! You truly are amusing.”

Patting the blushing Margaret’s shoulder, Elizabeth quietly gazed out the window. The palace’s lavish gardens were in full autumn bloom with all manner of flowers. The Queen was gazing out peacefully when… a grating noise reached her ear, and she turned her eyes toward the door.

“Your Majesty, what is it?”

“Shh.”

Elizabeth placed a finger on Lawrence’s lips. She then dismissed her ladies-in-waiting and had the door opened. Just a crack. And then, she heard the clang of metal.

The Queen quickly moved closer to the door, pressing her face to the gap, and saw the scene beyond. Just then, her most favored lady-in-waiting, Catherine Howard…

SHRRIIIIK!

Her chest was suddenly torn open by a man’s sword. The lady-in-waiting, who had served her for over forty years, collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood. She quickly clamped a hand over Margaret’s mouth to stifle her scream.

In that instant, the Queen’s mind raced, arriving at a single conclusion. Treason.

…How did I not know? Ah, damn it, those blasted Spaniards.

It took her less than a few seconds to reach this conclusion. The Queen looked up and saw the face of the man who had killed her lady-in-waiting. It was the Earl of Southampton.

…What should I do? What do they want? Can they kill me? Whether they kill me or not, what can they possibly gain?

As she was thinking, dozens of other stout men swarmed in, filling the corridor. The scent of blood hit the Queen’s nose, accelerating her thoughts. She considered several scenarios, running through the thought experiments. The probability of a woman over sixty evading those men. Or…

CREAK!

The Queen did not hesitate. The door was thrown open, and the startled men froze in place. The Queen shouted at them.

“What is the meaning of this!”

In an instant, dozens of armed men were frozen by that single phrase. A significant number of them had served the Queen since birth. A moment of silence descended… and before they could realize their advantage, the Queen shouted first.

“Do you know who stands before you! Your rightful monarch is here! Kneel and show your respects!”

“Y-Your Majesty… we have uncovered a plot by Sir Robert Cecil, who has been conspiring with Spain to threaten Your Majesty…”

“Now! Did I not tell you to kneel!”

“…”

Before they could even think, the men knelt on one knee before the roaring lioness. The Queen then turned her back on them.

“I have… heard you out. Wait here. I have not yet finished my toilette.”

The Queen gestured, and her ladies-in-waiting quickly closed the palace doors. While everyone was murmuring in confusion and fear, the Queen grabbed Margaret’s arm and whispered.

“…Here, look below the window.”

“Y-yes, yes…? Y-Your Majesty… the traitors…!”

“Stop whining and look below the window!”

The Queen pulled her by the shoulder and made her look out the window, directly below. A spread of well-manicured boxwood shrubs lay beneath them. It was a three-story drop.

“Th-th-that… Your Majesty?”

“Can you jump down there?”

“What?”

“I asked if you can jump. Actually, it wasn’t a question, it was an order.”

“…What?”

“Jump. Now.”

A short while later. “What’s taking so long?” 

“You there, go and confirm Her Majesty’s well-being.”

The traitors outside the door quietly gathered and knocked. Knock, knock. “Are you there, Your Majesty?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Only silence answered. It was only then that a chilling feeling crept over them, and they hastily broke down the door and entered. What they saw was an empty room, a dressing table, and a long, torn curtain tied to the leg of the table.

The Queen was nowhere to be found. Nowhere.

***

“Hah, hah…! Cough…!”

Elizabeth, a 67-year-old woman, was running for her life. Margaret Lawrence and other ladies-in-waiting followed close behind. They escaped the maze-like palace gardens as quickly as possible, ran to a prepared escape route, and climbed into a carriage. Just before the carriage departed, the Queen gestured for the driver to wait.

From all corners of Whitehall Palace, the clash of steel and shouts echoed. In the midst of the terrible chaos, she could see a few of her favorites running about in confusion. Elizabeth bit her nails, methodically organizing the situation in her head.

Was the situation serious? Yes. Who was the mastermind? …There were too many likely candidates to count. From the fact that they hadn’t tried to kill her on sight, it seemed the Queen’s assassination was not part of their plan. The cause was likely that she had frightened them too much with her talk of a standing army.

‘…Even so, how could I not have known?’ At that thought, Elizabeth felt a chill and blinked slowly. Yes. Whoever had masterminded this rebellion, it was clear that it had widespread support, at least within London.

Of course, she was still a queen beloved by her citizens. Thanks to the Virginia colony, she had been able to hand out tax cuts even during a war, earning her a reputation as a benevolent ruler. If she were to go to the square in front of St. Paul’s Cathedral right now and give a speech to the people of London, she could certainly defeat them. The probability was over fifty, maybe sixty percent.

She imagined herself bravely leading the citizens, crushing the band of traitors. She would return to a blood-spattered Whitehall Palace and sit upon her throne… and then, her objective would be achieved in a single stroke. She would eliminate all who annoyed her and wield power more absolute than ever before, bending the kingdom to her will.

“…”

“Y-Your Majesty! The traitors are killing the guardsmen and coming this way!” 

“We must depart!”

“Wait. Just a little longer.”

If so, she could want for nothing more. It was the best-case scenario, one where she could give the middle finger to Spain and all the other flies buzzing around her. A golden opportunity to gather as much of the ‘power’ she loved so dearly into her hands.

…However. There was one fatal flaw in this plan. When she led the citizens of London to suppress the rebels, the probability that she would be killed or injured by the blind sword of those who had thrown everything on the line was… At least… ten percent or more.

She had always loved a gamble. When she declared war against the Spaniards, when she refused countless marriage proposals and postponed naming a successor, she had always taken a chance. And in the end, she had won. The arduous journey toward greater power had continued, but for the most part, she had been victorious.

“…Hmm.”

“Your Majesty!”

“Yes. Yes. Let us depart now.”

“Wh-where to…”

But there was something she held more precious than power. And that was love, the happiness of her people, the peace of the kingdom, the glory of the Lord… Just kidding. It was herself. She loved herself too much to risk her life on something like this. If she hadn’t been that kind of person, she never would have thrown the kingdom into chaos by postponing the succession until her deathbed.

First, escape London. And after that… what? At first, she thought of going to another region, raising an army, and retaking London. But no. She didn’t want to go through the trouble. To do that, she would have to indebt herself to other fools, and right now, she had no desire to leave behind any political debts within the country. How many more years did she have to live, anyway? She wanted to enjoy the rest of her life to the fullest. Not by suffering through the ordeal of suppressing a rebellion.

Hmm… What to do? Ah, that’s right.

“First, let us go to the harbor and find a ship.”

“Yes, Your Majesty… huh, yes?”

The progressive way of thinking that the state is the people (me), and wherever the people (I) are, that is the state. Such an advanced way of thinking was not yet widespread on Earth, with the exception of the mobile monarch of Joseon, King Seonjo. Elizabeth hadn’t quite reached that level of thought, either. However, she had reached the conclusion that wherever she was, that was the English court, and she was the center of England.

Therefore, just as Seonjo had come up with the revolutionary idea of abandoning the Korean peninsula to escape the Japanese invaders… “We will abandon London. No, we will leave England.” She, too, was able to reach a revolutionary conclusion.

A brilliant plan for a more comfortable retirement. A plan for a more beautiful final chapter of her life.

And so, a few months later, a single ship arrived in Scotland. “Why are you… coming from here?” 

“Asylum.”

Bearing the ambitions of a queen planning for her retirement.