To Be A Queen: 
Would You  Like to be a British Monarch in the Renaissance?

It is a glamorous idea, often romanticized and fantasized, and probably almost universally desired. But when one really thinks about it, considers all the tasks and difficulties, all the beheadings and political marriages, it becomes a far less pleasant ideal. So, for me, I would have to answer thus: no. Goodness no. For one thing, I think I would rather be in France during the renaissance. That aside, I would have no privacy whatsoever; all eyes would be on me, and the pressure to maintain an entire kingdom would be mine alone in the eyes of my subjects. I could never bring myself to behead someone, and while I would make quite a peaceful ruler, my cousins could usurp the throne from me in no time. I like to think I am rather clever, but in the world of political arrangements I could probably be quickly outwitted. I would likely end up being Queen for a grand total of two weeks before someone stole my throne and beheaded me. I do not greatly fancy being beheaded. I might not mind the charming, intelligent, and witty courtiers surrounding me, though, nor would I mind living in the elegant, ornate castles, which would truly be a living fantasy. Who has not imagined exploring the shadowy halls and secret passageways, the high tower rooms and low dungeon corridors, the resplendent libraries and sprawling gardens of a classic renaissance castle (or perhaps a chateau en France)? That part would be dreamlike. But one would not necessarily have to be Queen to do this.

One of the Queen's maids of honor could have extended access to the castle, as well as to most things the Queen did, and I myself would likely much rather be such a maid. One might look at the word "maid" and think, "why would you ever want to be that?", but think about it: the maids of honor were in very high standing in the kingdom but with much less pressure on them politically. Yes, they had duties to fulfill and standards to maintain, but they also got to live a life nearly as luxurious as that of the Queen but with far less trouble. If I were a maid of honor to the Queen, it would not be my fault if the Spanish Armada decimated our fleet, I would not have to behead my cousin for threatening to steal my job, and I would not bring the kingdom to ruin by marrying unstrategically (although I could probably would still have little chance at ever marrying for love, but in those days, no one had much chance.) I would still be lacking privacy, but the eyes of the kingdom would not be looking at me, but rather through me to my lady.

Or perhaps I would rather be a more anonymous noble lady, out of the direct service of the Queen but still one of the courtiers, able to explore the magnificent castles and even indulge in intriguing conversations with some of the charming men of the court, as perhaps I could not do the latter if I were one of the Queen’s maids of honor. Attention and pressure would still be on me but less, and my freedom would be restricted but perhaps still existent. I would simply have to work on my skills at walking backwards to exit the presence of the Queen without tripping over myself. I would also have to work on my ability to tolerate corsets and bustles and all the other ‘fashionable’ torture devices imposed upon upper-class women of that age.

You know, maybe I’m really not meant to be that court-type after all. Perhaps I’d simply be happier on a peasant farm out in the countryside where I could wander in our woods and dream and not wear all that excessive clothing and steel framework deemed necessary to beauty in those days. I could visit London at least once in my life, and I could probably find some excuse to enter the presence chamber, and I could likely manage sneaking off to wander the palace.

Or perhaps I’d do better as one of the spies, living a life of mystery. I could be the French spy in England. Or the Norwegian one, if the Norwegians found some reason to want their nose in such matters. Then I would have ample opportunity to creep about the castle, and to indulge other dreams, like eavesdropping on royal matters. But then we come back to my lack of cleverness in politics and me being beheaded yet again. I probably wouldn’t have to be politically conniving in order to be sneaky, though. I think I could possibly do it. It would be fun: it's like two fantasies put together, being a courtier and being a French spy. Maybe that would be best.

All in all, I’m not certain where I’d be happiest in the Elizabethan court; I only know it would most certainly not be as Queen. Beyond the violet mist, we have our own system of royalty, and so here I am proud to reign as Reine over my wise people, but were I to find myself out from behind the veil of the violet mist and long ago in Elizabethan England, I would be happier to fit into society some other way, perhaps serving my lady as maid of honor, perhaps living the life of a noble courtier, perhaps simply dreaming as a farm girl, or perhaps delving into matters of intrigue as a spy. Elizabethan England could be a splendid place to be. Although beyond the violet mist we generally favor the French.