She let out a scream, one that had been pressing at her lips for the last hour, or maybe it'd been longer and she'd never let it slip. She threw her crown to the tile floor where it made a clattering noise before lying silent. She kicked off her heels and loosened her corset and slumped onto the velvet covered bed. She put her face in her hands, letting tears slip down her cheeks, tears that had wanted to escape for years now. Desperately she tried to stop the tears, tried to hide the weakness, but in vein. Her chest shook with tears and desperation to stop them, her world was fractured in more ways then imaginable. Francis was in Spain, Bash was heir to the throne, and she was sentenced to death. She had done everything she could to protect her sons and now they were all in even more danger, she would no longer be around to protect them in a few days she'd be gone.

No, she wouldn't let him end her, in front of everyone as her last humiliation, she would die but it would be at her own hands, not his. She stood up so very quickly and smashed the glass on her dressing table, then without second thought pressed the rigid glass into her wrist. She didn't cry out, didn't whimper or even flinch, it didn't hurt not anymore. Hot blood flowed down her wrist, fast after only a few moments she began to feel extremely light headed and sunk into a chair. She realized the floor was splattered with blood as was her dress and the chair. She had to get into bed, she struggled to her feet and stumbled to the bed lying down on the covers and letting her breaths slow down. Her vision was going blurry she knew she was going to die but instead of crying she let it happen, she was going to die. Suddenly someone had taken her wrist and wrapped it in what felt like silk, she struggled to see who it was and when she did she didn't believe it. "Henry?" She wasn't surprised to hear her voice sounded raspy and strained.

He had decided to have a word with her, to see if he could reason with her, he had marched to her chambers. He knocked, no answer he called out her name, no answer thinking that she had escaped he burst in, what he saw however was not an escaped queen. Blood stained the tile floor, and the satin chair, a piece of blood glass lay on the ground where she had dropped it. His eyes fell upon her, her black dress was drenched in blood, her hands were both covered in the crimson liquid and lying motionless on her stomach, her crown was stranded on the floor and her ginger hair was free from it's usual imprisonment. Her eyes were shut and she was deathly pale, he suddenly saw, not the woman he wanted to fiercely to kill but the woman he wanted to save, he practically ran to her side. He feared he was too late for her chest wasn't visibly moving, she had lost too much blood. He ripped his shirt and wrapped her bleeding wrist in the fabric, she winced at the touch to her wound, so she was alive. All earlier plans of her execution or her betrayal was all erased in an instant, never had he heard her voice so unguarded and venerable, despaired even. Her lashes were fluttering, fighting to stay open, to see him, "Catherine." He murmured trying to keep the sorrow out of his own voice. He suddenly realized that he had to get her to the infirmary, as soon as possible, if she had any chance of survival. "I have to get you to the infirmary, here." He went to pick her up but her other hand stopped him by shakily taking his hand.

She didn't believe it could really be him, she must be losing too much blood and seeing things, but when he spoke to her she had to believe it was him. Why was he here? Why wasn't he letting her die? Questions whirled in her mind but all she could do was stare at him, her breaths were shaky and she had to fight to keep conscious. When he said anything about the infirmary she knew she had to do something, her execution was the following day and she didn't plan on living for it. She unintentionally took his hand in hers and with a forced voice she said, "Henry I'm going to die, let me die, please." It was hard for her to speak, her throat was dry and she felt weak "I don't want to be a laughing stock long after I'm gone, please just let me die now at my own hand." Her chest was shaking as her breaths choked her. "Just go," She struggled to continue "G..go and say y..you killed m..me since that's what you w..want." Her eyes finally closed she was close, close to being gone.

He looked at her, the woman he once loved, no he still loved her. How when her lips moved to talk it was a struggle, her cheeks were no longer flushed with color they were pale and probably icy cold. Her hand certainly was, it was like holding snow and her words hit him like a steel knife, she didn't want to be a laughing stock as much as she had covered it up in the previous days it was clear now. If she had to die she wanted it to be at her own hand and not at her husbands. England had clouded his vision with greed and he had forgotten about Francis, Bash, Mary, and most importantly Catherine. Her eyes, dark as the night sky, glazed over and fluttered closed and he knew, she was on the verge of death. He reached down and picked up her crown and placed it upon her head, the Queen of France, his wife. "Catherine no, I don't want you dead I want you alive I need you alive I need you." He looked at her with a plead in his eyes a plead for her to sit up and laugh at him saying she had tricked him again. She did not sit up she didn't barely move but she did speak, now her voice was like a whisper like someone was choking her as she spoke.

She was certainly imagining things now he needed her? Hadn't he planned to kill her the next day? She realized however that he was not lying, she could tell when he lied for he was horrible at it. She forced herself to speak again her throat felt like it was going to rip open and her chest ached as did her wrist. "Stay then, s..stay with me until I am no longer with y..you." Tears slid down her cheeks "I never wanted to hurt you I never wanted any of this. Care or not Henry I loved you but you hurt me, you didn't love me so I shut down I went cold I believed that I was unlovable I believed that I was useless so I made myself important by being a villain." Her voice was no longer shaking but it was cracking "All I wanted was for you to say you loved me, you never did you know, not once did you ever tell me you loved me." Tears flowed through her closed eyes and her chest gave little shakes from failing breaths and agonized pain, not physical pain but a pain in her heart a terrible ache. "You know Henry? I am a foolish woman very foolish indeed and I suppose this is my price."

He had never told her how much she meant to him, he had killed her, not ended her life but he had killed her from inside. All this time he had never thought she gave a damn about what he did but he had been wrong she had cared very much. Now that she said it, no they had never kissed never sat together and shared one another's thoughts, he had never told her he loved her. "I'm..I'm so sorry Catherine, you are not the foolish one it is I who is wrong and now you're going to die but not without knowing that I do love you. I love you so much, and I need you, not Diane, not Kenna, not England, you." He tightened his hold on her hand, which was shaking and was like ice water but it tightened around his. He leaned down and kissed her, her lips were stone cold and all the color had drained out of them but never the less they were soft and had the slightest essence of cranberries. He was about to pull away when she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. When they finally broke apart she looked at him with eyes that sparkled with tears, and something he had never seen in them before, happiness.

"I love you too, with all the heart I have left." Her eyes fluttered and she sighed "Goodnight," she murmured, "That's all it is really, a long sleep, you'll see me again." She sighed again "I just won't see you." Her breath stopped and she let her eyes finally close, her hand went limp on his and she lay still. Her brownish orange hair was laying around her shoulders and her skin was paper white. Her lips were still and slightly open, everything about her looked so innocent, a queen, a true queen was gone.