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“Oh, Richard I am so sorry.”
The voice seemed far away, distant, like it was calling from across a hall. He was standing, but he felt as if the floor had changed into waves. He felt as if he were drowning.
Something touched his shoulder, he flinched away and turned his head to see a blurry figure, the shape of Elizabeth was twisted in his tears, which fell down his expression of utter horror.
“Leave.” She stood there, her very presence made him feel a rage that he couldn’t contain and guilt that he shouldn’t have to feel. “LEAVE.” He yanked his arm away from her and shoved her towards the door. After a moment of silence he willed his eyes shut to the sound of the door closing before attempting to compose his perverse expression and his frozen limbs.
The king walked slowly around the large bed, he stepped lightly, trying to imagine she was sleeping. It was so much easier to think of her asleep, that he could climb into bed with her and kiss her shoulder as he pulled her against him, only to fall asleep with her warmth. His body shook, his hands fisted, uncontrolled tears streamed down his cheeks. When he reached the edge of the bed he forced himself to look down at her. When he touched her hand, it felt unreal, it was too cold.
She looked so weak, pale, her beautiful hair was dry, her lips chapped. It has been too long since I kissed you, my love. He thought bitterly. But now was not the time to be bitter.
The weight of everything finally collapsed him, he sunk to his knees next to the bed and cried into the sickly sheets. He cried for all they were, all they had, all they’d lost, and all they could have been.
“Oh my Anne. My lovely Anne.” He sobbed, pulling himself up into the bed. He sat against the headboard, next to her and looked at her, drank in her features, cradling her limp hand in his. “What have I done to us?” He asked her lifeless form. “There are so many things, my love. So many things unsaid.” His voice cracked from his tears, his throat burned with frustration. The room was silent as he thought of the words he never spoke to her, how he never truly explained. “It was only you, Anne. It was only you.” He choked though his weeping. “I have loved you my whole life, I loved our boy, I loved our family. I… I never meant… I’m so sorry… You were my sun, my moon… you were my ocean and my earth. You kept me afloat, and now I fear I am drowning without you.” He leaned his head down so it rested against hers, she still smelled faintly of herself, a light musk of roses and sweetness, utterly Anne. “I am such a fool. I… I am so afraid… I killed you, my love. I’m so sorry… I broke you and I didn’t… I am such a fool. Please, Anne, forgive me. Know I loved you with all of my heart, all of it was yours. I never loved another, not one day of my life. Nor shall I ever love again.” The promise hung in the air, he knew he would keep it. He was Richard and she was Anne, he didn’t know how to love another, he didn’t believe he ever had loved another, and therefore he never could.
The sobs of the king echoed through the room, he did not care if Tudor himself heard the wrenching cries, the ugly exclaims. He loved his Anne. Now she was gone to him. He could never hold her again, or stroke her hair, or kiss her and feel her love in return. This was the last time he would touch her. “Anne… come back to me… Anne… please, oh god. No. NO!” He held her limp body to his as he cried, she was gone, his Anne was gone and he had no one. She was the only one he ever trusted.
For a moment he thought she’d awaken and pull him to her chest and whisper sweet nothings to him to calm him, from his kingly decisions of state and bad dreams of battle and war. He imagined her kissing his forehead and telling him how they’ll have many more children. In his daydream he smiled and crooned, “I don’t need them. As long as I have you, and my honor.” And he’s lost them both.
Richard opened his eyes to a lifeless face, with no sweet words or comforting smiles. “I love you, Anne. I always have… and I always will.”
He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her brow, his tears wetted her skin as they unleashed all of his woes and regrets. Holding onto his Anne he prayed that she would forgive him, for his foolishness, and he prayed to God to tell her that he loved her more than the world. More than England. More that the crown upon his brow.
As he set her down on the bed he folded her hands on her stomach and brushed her hair from her face, only so he could look upon it again with no strong mask or game to play. He felt as if he was a boy again, as if it was their first night as a couple and he was seeing her anew. Richard’s red eyes swelled with new tears as he realized she’d taken that Richard with her, the man he’d been, the man he always wanted to be was waiting in heaven with his Anne.
He leaned down and kissed her lips, lingering for a second and imprinting the memory of them into his heart.
“Goodbye, my Anne.” He stood and took a few steps on weak legs, but before leaving the room he turned and pleaded again with the corpse. “My love… Forgive me.”
Richard opened the door to a small group of people, including Isabelle’s children, Elizabeth and her sister, his councilors and a physician. As soon as he gripped the pillar and cleared the doorway the physician ran into the room along with some of his advisors.
“My king. Our greatest…” Richard cut them off with a rough wave of his hand.
“She is gone.”
“Yes, my king.”
“My Anne is gone.” The words tasted foreign on his tongue, bitter and sour and horrid.
“My king…” Elizabeth started towards him.
“MY ANNE IS GONE.” He screamed, collapsing down the side of the pillar, his back resting against it as he pulled his knees to his stomach and buried his face in his hands.
He let out a painful cry, a wrenched sound, full of pain and horror and disbelief. But with the endnote of utter grief and understanding.
The rest of the court simply stood and grieved for their fallen Queen, they respected the King’s grief and left the hall. Leaving Richard to his pain, to his guilt.
I am drowning without you. Echoed through his head like a heartbeat.