Today, I feel a deep wash of sadness. Our king, my beloved, has passed from this realm into the next, and I
can only sit here and pray for him. He had been ill for a long period, and the wound on his leg had ulcerated
beyond the point that any medical interventi on could help. I have tended to his sores for some ti me, and
in recent months his decline has been distressing to witness. He was in constant pain from the infecti on
and gravely ill. His humors had misaligned, and he was far too warm for the doctor’s liking. In the end, he
passed peacefully enough.
The unfortunate incident leaves me with mixed feelings. Where others have fallen before me, I have
survived, though I have never given him the son he so desperately craved. Edward, the child of Henry and
Jayne Seymour, is merely nine years old and yet must ascend to the throne immediately. How can the
weight of a country be carried on such young shoulders? I shall make it my duty to att end to his needs as I
always have— I know he will need a calming infl uence now as much as ever. | Chalk