FFM6: Hindsight

It was too much. Bloody Mary- the Queen of England, not what would later be a terrible drink, was to burn Protestants at the stake later in the week. I could no longer remain, it was far too unsafe with the consistent creation of martyrs under false pretenses.

They had done nothing wrong, besides practice a faith that was no longer accepted. The same faith that had once stayed my mother's hand, one that had ultimately saved and shaped my life. I did not know what to do, only that I had to. I could not run, my position did not give me the luxury. My faith was a part of me, crucial to my well-being at the time. I did not have any other choices.

Maybe it was the work of my God, that put me there then. I could not write, nor read, but the gentleman did not appear to care. ’You can be taught those things,’ He said, as if it was as easy as changing the sheets, or helping the lady of the house dress for a ball. It was strange- an absolutely terrifying moment where blood was split, and yet, calm and comfortable. He wrapped my wounds with cloth. It had been so soft that I had been sure that the cost was more than I’d have made in a fortnight.

In hindsight, Algacrypt had been too kind, to understanding. The way his words were silk, and courteous actions of someone in his place to a lowly maid, well. I should have known better.

Perhaps it would have been better the other way around.