Queen Elizabeth

• Sarah Bakker
• Short Story
• 2011

Queen Elizabeth I was a proper woman. She was well mannered and kept up appearances. She was a royal, and the royals were expected to act a certain way.

It was autumn in gloomy London and everyone was bracing for the sharp, icy grasp of winter. Elizabeth could hardly breathe in her corset but she knew that she had to dress to impress as a Queen of England. She wore a gown of black and white, as they were her most favourite colours.

Elizabeth sat in her favourite armchair while daintily eating a freshly made scone. She nibbled at the pastry and carefully made sure that no cream touched her upper lip. But this was all just what the public wanted Elizabeth to be like. Elizabeth was sick of being a hoity toity royal. She wanted some spice in her life. Elizabeth was a rebel and when every one had left, it was time for her to relax.

Elizabeth turned on her stereo system and pumped out Bad Reputation by Joan Jett. This ginger ninja was ready to rock and roll. She got changed into her leather jacket and tight black pants. She zipped up her black leather boots and applied a good amount of eyeliner to her eyelids. Elizabeth teased her hair into a beehive and collapsed onto her armchair.
“This is the life,” she said triumphantly. Elizabeth got back up and started head banging to the music. She made her hands into fists and started punching the air. She mimed a microphone in one hand and started singing along to the music.

All of a sudden there was a knock at the door that was just heard above the music. Elizabeth launched herself across the room to hit the ‘off’ button on the stereo and draped her royal gown over the top of her, hoping that that would be a good enough disguise.
“Uh… Come in,” Elizabeth said nervously. The door creaked open and a little maid poked her head through the crack.

“Sorry to bother you your majesty but I just wanted to let you know that your dinner was ready. Where would you like to eat it?” The little, Irish maid was cautious, as she didn’t want to upset Elizabeth.
“Would you kindly bring my food into this room?” Elizabeth said with more authority.
“Yes, Your Majesty. Right away, Your Majesty,” the maid scurried off to get Elizabeth’s meal.

Elizabeth was quite flustered from all the recent commotion. Her heart was beating quite rapidly. Elizabeth was frozen on the chair, she didn’t know whether to move or not because she didn’t know how far away the maid was with her food. Elizabeth just sat there making sure she looked well covered in her dress.

The Maid re-entered the room, a moment later, with the food and Elizabeth instructed her to place it on a table furthest away from the chair she was sitting at.
‘Is there anything else you’d like your majesty?” the maid’s voice sang from the far end of the room.
‘No, no, thank you very much.’ Elizabeth replied trying to not look suspicious.
The maid left and Elizabeth launched herself out of her chair and quickly changed into her formal attire as to not have a repeat of that incident. Elizabeth even had to put on her corset all by herself!

Elizabeth casually walked over to inspect the food that she’d been given. There was a small bowl of pea soup left for her with a glass of wine. This pleased her, as it was her favourite meal and after the fright that she’d just experienced she felt as if she deserved this. She sat down in the chair by the writing desk and began to eat.

Elizabeth started off daintily putting half spoonfuls of the soup into her mouth but she was quickly fed up with trying to conform to how she truly was. She held the bowl up to her mouth and drank the hot soup. She made loud slurping noises as she did so. Once she had finished her meal, she hiccupped, and drank the rest of her wine. She leaned back lazily into her chair and was content.

It was getting late and Elizabeth was getting restless. Elizabeth called for a maid to undress her and put her in her sleeping wear. She thanked the maid for her help and got into her large and extremely comfortable bed.