The lute’s polished wood was as smooth against Mark Smeaton’s hand as the leg he dared not covet. Cold sweat covering his palm, he plucked the first, soft chord.
The melody had come to him like a whisper, as dangerous as shuddering breath against his skin.
Queen Anne sat poised yet rigid, as if perched on a bed of stones. Her kirtle suffocated her, her hands stiff in her lap—she dared not to look at him, lest…
Mark had written songs for noble ladies before—ditties of courtly love, harmless flirtations. This was different. Treason always is.
He steadied his breath, weaving the lyrics through the melody like secrets concealed by a laced curtain.
At first, the King’s gaze was impassive.
Every chord, plucked in the minor key, carried a heavy longing—a veiled and melodic confession.
A stanza or two, and Henry’s eyes crawled from Mark to Anne.
And when the falcon’s wings were clipped, the King’s jaw tightened. Fire flared in his eyes.
Henry did not suffer rivals, nor did he abide hidden messages suddenly so plain in sight.
Mark finished the final chord, letting it hang in the air.
Polite applause rustled, careful and restrained. But not from the king.
A subtle nod from Henry, and two guards stepped forward.
Anne shifted in her seat, fingers whitening about her jeweled fan.
Saying nothing more, Mark rose and bowed low.
Whether she understood, if she spoke, it no longer mattered.
His last song had been worth playing.
Who is Real
Mark Smeaton was a real court musician in the court of King Henry VIII. He was executed for treason (adultery with Queen Anne Boleyn) after he confessed under torture. The song of such defiance in this historical flash fiction piece is made up. In fact, it seems that Mark’s character would have never allowed him to write or sing such songs.
