Matt Ford

I have no reason to doubt her.

Elizabeth turns back to the portrait.

She can't allow herself to believe Mary is playing her.

It would mean sacrificing too much.

Instead, she will ensure her cousin becomes a loyal friend, not a deadly enemy.

And that starts with reminding Mary that she can share in Elizabeth's riches, as long as she continues to maintain this deference to herself and to Protestant rule.

October 1561.

Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh.

Mary kneels in her private chapel, eyes closed.

Hands clasped around her rosary.

Ave Maria, grantia plena.

Mary could do with some divine guidance.

She's only been back in Scotland for two months, but since then, violence has broken out across the country.

The Protestants have been seeking to strengthen their position at court, and she's even had to strip one Catholic Earl of his title to appease them.

She flinches at the sound of footsteps.

She wishes she'd taken her secretary's advice to have a guard with her at all times.

She refused, fearing she would look weak.

She bows her head, determined not to let her paranoia interrupt her prayers.

But she jumps to her feet as a high-pitched shatter fills the chapel.

She ducks behind her prayer desk, peers out to see a smashed stained glass window crash down onto the chapel's marble floor, lying in shards.