I swore fidelity to the crown and to my husband. I knew as I uttered the words to both, solemnly and with reverence, that I would keep neither.
The marriage was arranged and brokered between the families. A marriage of business and politics. It was polite and kind and never hurtful, but it was passionless and loveless. He treated me with respect and I bore him children whom we both adored. I set eyes on my true love within a month after our wedding. The affair started soon after. Illicit glances and furtive looks, brushed touches and excuses to be alone. Passion and love in abundance. I was surprised it took so long for anyone to discover us.
He worked for the other side. He plotted against the crown. Perhaps that was what drew me to him. I didn’t know about this side of him at first, but when I learned of it, it only made me yearn for him more. When he involved me in his plots, I went willingly. I had been waiting for the opportunity to rebel.
And now the clergyman asks me if I repent. One last chance to seek redemption before I meet my maker. The rope feels rough around my neck. I see them both looking at me. My husband and my lover. One looks at me with pity, the other with cold determination. He is undiscovered, I refused to name him. He will avenge me. My fidelity is to him as the black hood covers my face.
Written for #FOWC, hosted by Fandango on his blog This, That and the Other. Today’s prompt word was: Fidelity. Click on the link to read contributions from other writers.
Iain Kelly 
Leave a Reply