Roumours and oracles* Kate Garrett Seers claimed they were shown the end of Mary: clouds of red hair swathing the sky over Scotland with blood like mist – the vertebrae snapped – skin severed. The boy king locked this vision in his heart, pulled chains tight around it: no time to love his faraway mother held in her chambers and turrets. Nor any inclination – raised by steel-tongued wooden men – but he forever paled at the suggestion of her […]
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