………….

So this is it. This is how it ends.

I always knew I would make a dramatic exit, etched into history.

I laugh to myself. Even at such a dire time, I still have my wit.

So there I kneel, in my wench-like gown, a little less grand than what I am accustomed to. But still, I have no doubt that one day an artist, full of angst and romance, will do it justice.

My hair falls over my shoulders, my ample bosom pressed against crushed cotton and lace. My cheeks are just the right tint of pink.

I wonder, amused, how many queens might conjure these very images, chin against hard wood, wrists restrained, awaiting beheading.