Here I am, Queen Catherine of Aragon, lying on my back, watching water slowly trickling down the cold dungeon wall. Execution is the last thing I deserve! Just because I got too old to bear a child. I’m just waiting and praying, praying that this is all just a dream. But it’s not and I’m going to die.

I remember our wedding, wearing my pure white dress, walking along the aisle, nothing would tear us apart. So what happened? She happened! That Anne Boleyn. He fell in her trap like a mouse attracted to cheese. She doesn’t even love him like I do; she just wants the crown and wealth.

Hours I’ve been here breathing, waiting, hoping. What will my beloved child think not having a mum to care for her, to kiss her good night?

I hear the sound of rats scurrying across my feet. I hear the wind whirling around, escaping through the windows. A drop of water lands on my face, dropping down like a tear. I hear the unlocking of the old oak door. It’s time.

Fear goes through me, my whole body shakes. Two men grab my wrists, almost cutting my circulation.

I see the executioner wearing a midnight black cape and mask. I grip my prayer book, hoping heaven will await.

At the corner of my eye I see him. Henry. And I know today is the day Catherine of Aragon survived. I knew he wouldn’t really get me killed, but what I was about to say may put me back on the death list. ‘Everything you have told me is a complete and utter lie. Now tell me the truth and we might both live.’ I have a family back in Spain - if he touches me they will strike and he knows it.