The Stories of an Immortal
written by Aimée Rose
Random short stories about different adventures in a variety of places, times and situations, from the perspective of a time travelling immortal.
Last Updated
05/31/21
Chapters
30
Reads
1,149
Katherine Howard
Chapter 7
I knew Katherine when she was younger because I was one of her many tutors, though I only taught her for a year. She always wanted to do well for her family and knew that she would probably have to marry some rich, powerful man to do so.
Her execution was my second, although it was the first I watched without embarrassingly fainting. Prior to hers was King Charles 1 in 1649, although confusingly that happened after Katherine’s (time travel can be incredibly complex).
When Katherine was kneeling at the block, she seemed so different than the girl I used to teach, as if she had already left this world. She held herself like a queen, full of dignity and poise, while she murmured her last prayers.
The masked executioner slowly raised his axe as the crowd held their breath in anticipation. In one graceful movement, the axe was swiftly brought down and Katherine’s beautiful neck was broken.
Not long after Katherine’s execution, I heard rumours of the King sobbing about her over and over again, sniffling about how much he loved her. The King had always been a romantic and the more profound his love, the more viciously he reacted when his heart was broken.
In my eyes, Katherine would never be genuinely guilty because my heart told me that she only ever did what would help her family. True, she may have been young, foolish and slightly naive, but she also did what she felt had to be done.
When I think back to Katherine now, I mostly remember and admire her courage. No matter how many mistakes she made, she died with grace and bravery, which is how I carry her in my heart. However, I also remember her as the more (though not entirely) innocent child she used to be, when she held social graces and good manners above academic lessons, just to please her family.
Her execution was my second, although it was the first I watched without embarrassingly fainting. Prior to hers was King Charles 1 in 1649, although confusingly that happened after Katherine’s (time travel can be incredibly complex).
When Katherine was kneeling at the block, she seemed so different than the girl I used to teach, as if she had already left this world. She held herself like a queen, full of dignity and poise, while she murmured her last prayers.
The masked executioner slowly raised his axe as the crowd held their breath in anticipation. In one graceful movement, the axe was swiftly brought down and Katherine’s beautiful neck was broken.
Not long after Katherine’s execution, I heard rumours of the King sobbing about her over and over again, sniffling about how much he loved her. The King had always been a romantic and the more profound his love, the more viciously he reacted when his heart was broken.
In my eyes, Katherine would never be genuinely guilty because my heart told me that she only ever did what would help her family. True, she may have been young, foolish and slightly naive, but she also did what she felt had to be done.
When I think back to Katherine now, I mostly remember and admire her courage. No matter how many mistakes she made, she died with grace and bravery, which is how I carry her in my heart. However, I also remember her as the more (though not entirely) innocent child she used to be, when she held social graces and good manners above academic lessons, just to please her family.
