by Rick Bylina
Queen Bea watched the king's blood flow and stain the floor. Then, she smiled and gave the blue knife back to Wren who wiped the blade clean. "It can do no more harm," the queen said to her fair maid. "He can't either." The queen squeezed Wren's arm. "Leave with my words and throw the knife in the moat."
Wren sensed the strength of the queen's words and had to think fast. "Yes, my queen." She edged out the false door then fled to the Grand Hall. "Guards," Wren called out. "Men in black slew the king."
A knight's shout rang out. "Close the gates. Hunt these fools down." His voice turned cold. "God save the queen."
As the guards dashed from the hall, a sly grin grew on Wren's face. "They chase ghosts. I'll waste no tears for this weak, faint, and false king." She left to make plans.
Forced on the throne as a child bride to mend two foes, Queen Bea was a young teen when her son was born. That son was now a strong, brave, and true man, who now mourned his loss. The next night Queen Bea told Wren, "My son shall be a great king. And though some may think they know last night's truth, they do not. No one stops this plan."
"All will soon be as it should."
"I have no doubt," said the queen.
While March's cold warmed to May, the queen wept few tears for the dead king, and then wed the love of her loins. Late that night, the blue knife sank in the moat drenched with the queen's blood.
Long June days came. As planned, the new king wed his true love who wore white trimmed with blue and showed a sly grin.
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