I crept silently to the stairwell
Lest my footsteps be heard by the strangers outside
And I wondered who was with you on that murderous night?
My lover and husband whom I had trusted
Child and heir to the throne growing steadily in my belly
And yet I wondered if this would be enough to still your tongue?
Your jealously simmered and boiled
Bubbling over into bloodletting at my feet
And I wondered did you love him, or did you love me?
© Alison Jean Hankinson.
Questions for d’Verse.
Image courtesy of Wikimedia. from an etching 1791 Mary, Queen of Scots witnessing the murder of David Rizzio.