Page 27 of Love, Will

“What in the hell are you doing, you complete idiot?” he raged at me while pressing even harder against my trachea.

I remained silent.

“Are you fucking him?” he asked again, gritting his teeth.

“What?” I replied, surprised, until I realized whom he was referring to. “No!”, I barely said, partly because I was suffocating and partly because I did not allow myself to think about the rest.

“Will, you stupid cunt, you will be killed. If someone catches you two, do you think they will accuse the fucking tenth heir to the throne of England or a bloody stupid poet?”

I blinked, perplexed.

“You need to stop this, immediately!” he rasped.

“There is nothing to stop, Richard. We are friends.” I tried to justify, still struggling to push away his elbow from my throat.

“Friends? You bloody moron, he is fucking in love with you, you dumb cunt, and you are living for his attentions.”

My heart dropped and my eyes widened. I could barely breathe and it was not because of his fist in my throat.

“Oh, no…” He gazed at me disappointed and released me in the next second. I started coughing slowly, observing how his eyes had turned from heated rage to a lake of pitying gazes.

“All this time I thought you were using him to become popular and get more coin but shit Will...shit man,” Richard shook his head, unable to believe what he must have read in my expression.

I kept my hands to my throat, gently caressing the painful area and did not look at him, trying to avoid the realisation from turning clear into my own eyes.

“Will, you need to stop this while you still can and come back with us. Stay for the wedding, do your duty and let’s leave this place,” my dear friend urged, desperation and concern waltzing on his figure.

I did not reply as I opened the door to my room. By the time I stepped inside, Richard had vanished from the hallway.

The next day passed quickly. Through the morning, the entire household kept occupied with the wedding buffet while we arranged the stage and did the last rehearsals and costume fittings. We heard from all the fuss of the maids that the Queen had arrived the night before and she would assist at the wedding and play as well.

It was not the first time we were performing for Her Majesty but it still was not a good enough reason not to be nervous so we all skipped dinner and continued working on the stage to make sure all the details were in the right place. Keith and two footmen arrived with plates of cheese and fruit, a full tray of meat and glasses filled with wine sent by Henry.

“Master Will, the Earl apologizes for his absence and knows that the stage manager is supposed to be helping with the last details. However, he asked me to give you notice his Earlship is being held by the Queen.”

“Very kind of his Earlship to let us know,” Richard pressed. It sounded like a simple enough sentence, but a heavy burden directly addressed to me.

Keith only looked in Richard’s direction, then back at me and continued. “His Earlship is asking you to take a brief break for nourishment and sends this food your way.”

I nodded and thanked Keith. All the men spoke grateful thanks to Henry since we were starving, but none of us dared to leave, so having meat, wine and cheese right there on the stage turned out to be more than ideal. The men relaxed and started eating and chatting away while in costume and keeping the voice of their characters. I took a small bite of cheese and tried my best to avoid Richard completely.

Finally, the afternoon arrived and the doors to our room opened, welcoming all the Lords and Ladies of England, along with the Queen, who had a special throne arranged instead of a standard seat.

Henry escorted her to the throne and kissed her hand and ring, then headed towards the stage to announce our play. He slowly slid behind the curtain and assumed his role as stage manager, following the script and telling us when to enter and which drapes to pull up and down. He seemed to enjoy his role a great deal and every time I was in and out of the stage, he smiled widely at me and sometimes winked.

For an untrained member of nobility, he did a fantastic job and had every reason to be proud. The same sentiment shattered deeply through my spirit. I could imagine Henry being part of our group, drinking cheap ale and chatting away in brothels, eating dry cheese and writing alongside me at the stolen candle light from the inns. He could easily have been one of us, were it not for title and noble rights.

When the play ended, the room burst into applause. Even Her Majesty herself stood to greet the men, and the Countess was in ecstasy, sharing her happiness that such a beautiful and funny story was dedicated to her on her wedding day.

It was customary for the actors to receive the applause first and then announce the playwright, so I remained the only one left behind the curtain alongside Henry, who, in a few seconds, had to drop the curtain so I could be introduced to the Queen.

He smiled at me radiantly, and I did the same for him. We shared a long proud grin and could not stop looking into each other’s eyes, did not want to break that perfect synchrony our gazes had established. Yet Henry turned out to be the first one to disrupt this and took a few steps toward me, strongly holding the fringe, keeping the big curtain in place but at the same time, pulling it to reach me. It must have been an effort to do it all on his own. When he came close to me, he continued to stare into my eyes, transposing everything we had not found the courage to say. We shared such a deep connection that even our hearts beat with the same rhythm.

Within the next moment, unannounced and unafraid, Henry pressed his lips on mine, slowly, gently, and caressed them with his tongue. I felt that touch deep inside me; I ached for it for so long that my body needed it and now that I finally had his lips on mine, I became whole again.

With the Queen standing one curtain away, this man fed on my lips as if they were life giving ambrosia and the only thing crossing my mind was that I wanted him to never stop. I had lived my whole life for that moment and if I were to die, I would happily do it with the taste of his sweet tongue on my lips.

“...William Shakespeare!” Applause started again and forced our tongues to cut their embrace short. Henry took a single step back and dropped the fringe to release the curtain, without taking his eyes off me.

I did not see Henry again for the next three days. He kept busy delighting Her Majesty, and I had Richard following my every step. It felt as though he read the kiss on my lips as soon as I walked on the stage to receive the applause and thought that by not allowing me a single moment of solitude, he could stop me from reflecting upon my feelings.

Yet, he made the huge mistake of not counting the nights, three of them I had on my own and spent the time thinking about Henry’s lips on mine, on how soft they felt and whether I would ever have the chance to meet them again. I had nightmares of Henry evicting me from his home and calling the Privy Council to arrest me, about burning in hell and being torn apart limb from limb by Satan himself. During the quiet hours, I had the sweetest dreams about me and Henry having a picnic and kissing on the grass, or him smiling and holding my hand at dinner.

The day came when the theatre group had to leave to continue touring and the guests started to slowly gather their belongings and head to their estates. Finally the Titchfield house became calm once more, embracing the daily traditions.

My breakfast was brought to me as per usual, since with so many people and nobles in the house, Henry and I could not find the space to share a table nor it was proper to do so, but this time with a letter.

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