Princess Mary Tudor Novels & Stories

Nodding, I reached for a sauce and a snowball cake. “She had a daughter with King Francis, and when she was booted out of France she was with child. Yes, James did belong to Francis, but what Mary kept hidden was her twin sister. Who now had a bloodline of her own and grew up in Scotland with one of the other Marys who was part of the queen's Auntie Rouge. Geez, royals are so full of secrets. My family is so full of secrets. Wait a second... Am I a royal?!!

"You are aware of his grades, Miss Hughs? It would be a shame to put someone with your academic ability with him." "I'm with Greyson," Indianna repeated. "Fine," the teacher sighed and handed Indianna a slip of paper. "You have three months. Good luck." Indianna turned around and made her way over to Greyson, handing him the slip. Greyson raised his eyebrows at the piece of paper. "The life and death of Mary Stuart. Who the hell is Mary Stuart?" "Mary Queen of Scots," Indianna said. "You must've heard of her, Greyson. She was the Queen of Scotland."

“No? But, maybe –“ I heard a sharp sound so I poked out my head to see that Mary had hit Sabrina across the face. The other girl clutched her cheek as she staggered. “I knew you were stupid but I didn’t think you would be this stupid,” Mary sneered. “Miss Scarlett brought you to this palace from the trash you call a pack. She recommended you to the queen and this is how you want to repay her kindness? By choosing the side of her rival?” “B –But Mary, she’s the King’s mate and he loves her. You’ve seen how – How His Majesty acts around her and I – I told you about the love bites on her skin–“

Her expression darkened as she leaned back on the chaise lounge, lowering her gaze in deep thought. When her personal maid returned and saw this expression, she immediately understood that the dowager was scheming again. She approached and began massaging the dowager's shoulders, speaking cautiously, "Your Majesty, just now I happened to encounter one of the queen’s maids. She mentioned that this Miranda is the same young lady Prince Zachary once fancied, but later became engaged to the Sheffield family."

Since Prince Uher survived the experiment, she felt that she had made a huge mistake by allowing the witches to use him instead of her son. Now she wanted them back. It's been two or three years since it happened and now little Damien is above 5 years old. She felt that he was old enough. She needed it done before the king finalized his decision on whom to make king. Martha confronted the king and asked that he slow down in naming Uther the crowned prince just because he is older. The king was surprised at her audacity and confronted her about what she had done but she continued to deny it. She claimed not to know anything about the people who took the prince. The king could not prove that s

I ask, clutching her arm. She curls her fingers over mine, her skin cold to the touch, which is odd for a shifter. Her flushed skin makes her finally look her age, not the blossom of youth she’s known for, even as a mortal. She shakes her head, still looking regal in her deep burgundy gown, and says, “King Mattias was killed.” My blood runs cold. “By whom?” Her sparkling jade eyes meet mine and hold. “By Princess Matilda.” She sounds surprised. I don’t blame her. I’m not entirely sure I heard her correctly, but she takes my hand, knitting her fingers in mine. “Come with me, will you?”

Isla and Catherine had a panicked look on their faces. Elizabeth's gaze went distant. “Years ago, when I was about your age. We had just moved here,” she said. “There was a kitchen maid, her name was Mara. She caught the eyes of a visiting Lord. No one truly knows what happened that day, but people began spreading stories about them. It damaged the reputation of the monarchy. Then, one morning, she was just… gone. No one ever saw Mara again.” Silence settled over the room like dust. “I have spent more than half my life in these halls,” Elizabeth went on. “I know what happens when the crown decides someone needs to disappear. They don’t shout or swing swords. They just… make sure that problem

But Elara tasted the poison beneath every smile. She swept into the hall beside her parents, Kael just behind, her gown of deep green catching the candlelight. Nobles bowed their heads, though their eyes followed her like hawks. Already the whispers had begun: The princess and the Ironfang heir. A match written by politics… or by fate. Her stomach twisted.

The door to my study clicked shut, but I didn't turn around. I knew the soft, rhythmic step of Maria, one of the five heads of the domestic staff. She had worked with me for as long as I could remember and knew any and everyone who went in and out of my estate. “You asked to see me, Sir” Maria began. “The princess that I brought back. Do you know where she is at the moment?” I asked even though I already knew. "She’s in the garden, sir," Maria said quietly, her voice at a respectable volume as she stood behind me. "Madam Regina is with her."

The Crown Prince loves poetry, but my legitimate elder sister, who wants nothing in this world so much as to be Crown Princess, hasn't an ounce of talent. My mother was born in a brothel, and because of her I grew up skilled in verse, music, and letters. So my sister turned her attention to me, and had me write the poems she sent to the Crown Prince. She promised that if I helped her become the Crown Princess, I'd become a true daughter of House Vale. Because my mother was only a mistress, I'd entered the house as nothing but my sister's maid. But once I'd made her Crown Princess, she repaid me with a cup of poisoned wine. Before I died, I heard her say: "Only with you dead will no one