The Amelia Project - Episode 75 - Mary Queen of Scots (1587)

Episode Date: July 19, 2024

"A madman leaves the room, and a fool enters!" A tale of two queens... Mary Queen of Scots and Elizabeth the First. The year is 1587, The Brotherhood of the Phoenix are based in the Tower of London. Kozlowski is the Headsman and The Interviewer is the Ravenmaster. In this episode we find out what happens when a disappearance doesn't quite go to plan... Don't want to wait for the next episode? Consider becoming a patron or subscribing on Apple Podcasts to get early access, listen without ads, and get bonus episodes! The Amelia Project is created by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager and is a production of Imploding Fictions. Featuring Kate Fleetwood, Alan Burgon, Hemi Yeroham, Julia C. Thorne, Erin King and Jordan Cobb.  This episode was written by Oystein Ulsberg Brager with sound design by Eli Hamada Mcilveen.  Website: https://ameliapodcast.com/ Transcripts: https://ameliapodcast.com/season-5 Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Donations: https://ameliapodcast.com/support Merch: https://www.teepublic.com/stores/the-amelia-project?ref_id=6148 Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast X: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/theameliaproject.bsky.social Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

On August 9th, don't miss the Borderlands movie, starring this summer's biggest cast. Everybody buckle up. With Cate Blanchett, Kevin Hart, Jack Black, Ariana Greenblatt, and Jamie Lee Curtis. Wow, you never see that. Borderlands. Summer's here, and you can now get almost anything you need delivered with Uber Eats. What do we mean by almost? You can't get a well-groomed lawn delivered, but you can get chicken parmesan delivered.

Sunshine? No. Some wine? Yes. Get almost, almostmesan delivered. Sunshine? No. Some wine? Yes. Get almost, almost anything delivered with Uber Eats. Order now. Alcohol in select markets. See app for details. This episode is dedicated to the archaeologist Philip Hansen, whose death we will fake via a mummy's curse as he breaks into the British Museum in an attempt to steal a sarcophagus

and return it to the Valley of the Kings. He will be resurrected as a classic car mechanic in L'Ege Cap Ferret in France and pay us with an unlimited supply of restored cars for future disappearances. Be like Philip and support the show on Patreon. And now, enjoy the episode. Have you never peeled a ginger root? Uh, Baldur's root looks nothing like a ginger root. Besides, I prefer my ginger in the form of ginger ale. I am sure you will do all right. And it will be worth it, yes? Ah, ha ha ha ha. It certainly will.

Well then, let's peel. Fine. Let's just pray I don't peel my own fingers. I can't see shit. Oh, Mia. In a short while, we'll be... how do the Brits say? Happy as Larry. Just focus on that. I remember a client called Larry. He was not happy. He hated the name Larry, but the smile on his face when his new ID card spelled out, Nicodemus.

On that note, you keep telling us story after story about successes. Surely not all your clients have been satisfied. Even if you are the best in the business, you must have messed up sometimes. Of course, I can give you an example of a very dissatisfied client. Two, in fact. And we happen to have come to just the right time in history. The Amelia Project, created by Philip Thorne and Øystein Ulsbeck-Braga, with music and sound direction by Frederik Baden and sound design by Eli Hamada-McElveen. Episode 75. Mary, Queen of Scots, 1587.

What is this racket? I refuse to speak to you for one more second. Right, this way. What is going on? This lovely lady here is getting some nice new garments. Aye, and the garments better be nice or I'll kick you in the tatters. Please, down the hall and to the left. That's where we keep the costumes.

Chop, chop, no dilly-dallying. Are the knives, tell me, are the clothes nice? I have procured the most fabulous milkmaid costume you have ever laid eyes on. Now let's go. Ravenmaster? Yes? What, this way is it? That door right there, yes. There's only one door.

Is there no footman around? Just open it! All right, keep your hair on. What? Is everything fine? Oh, everything is fabulous. I heard shouting. Oh, much cry and little wool.

Are you sure? Absolutely. Perhaps it is just me. I have only just returned and abrupt noises upset me. Right, yes, well, you know what they say. Sing before breakfast, cry before night, right? How was Scotland? Damp, of course.

Good, good. Headsman? Yes? Would you be able to put an axe on a helve, as it were? You should ask Solomon. He's not just good at wielding an axe, he's also an excellent blacksmith. No, no, I meant metaphorically. Oh, what do you need?

There is a woman who wants to talk with you. That confused lady? No, another one. Back in there. What does she want? Oh, nothing much. Arthur? Yes? Are we in trouble?

No, no, no, no, not at all, no. Oh, nothing much. Arthur. Yes? Are we in trouble? No. No, no, no. Not at all. No. No, no, no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No. Where are the servants?

There's nobody here to dress me. There are no servants anymore. No servants? Lord, help me. Listen. You have to dress yourself from now on. Dress myself? I'll be right in.

You had a client while I was gone. You look a bit ashy. Will you let me just... Hold still. Do not lick your thumb. Look, just stand still. Stop it. Look, just stand still. Stop it. Look, just let me hit just a little bit of...

Get it out of my face. Don't be such a baby. I'll get it off. You can't go in there like that. Stop it. All right, forget it. Forget it. Look like a fool.

See if I care. Not your son, you know. Anyhow, will you talk to her? Do I have a choice? Well, I sort of... Well, I promised her, so... Is it this, honey? Good Lord, that is a silver-laced

gown. You're supposed to be a milkmaid. How many milkmaids go around wearing silver-laced gowns? There's a nice one here with gold. Look, you know what? Just hold on a moment. I'm coming. Don't keep her waiting, please. Right.

Now just get back in there, will you? Right. We refuse to pay. Your Majesty. Bow. Queen Elizabeth, I am your humble servant. Rise. What can I do for you, Your Majesty?

Is that not immediately obvious? Of course. Your Majesty is here for an execution. No payment is necessary. It is my job. Who does Her Majesty wish to dispose of? We are not here on official business. No? We would not come speak with the executioner ourselves, would we? I admit it is uncommon.

So? So, am I to assume Your Majesty is here for the Brotherhood? Finally, he's catching up. Oh, we would be more than happy to orchestrate Your Majesty's death, of course. Now, what are you in about? Not to worry. I happen to be working on a brand new death that would be perfect. Your majesty uses Venetian ceruse to whiten the skin. Is that not so? What has that got to do with the price of fish? Oh, I have discovered that the lead in Venetian ceruse slowly poisons the body. We do not wish to die. No?

No. Are you sure? Yes. Oh. It is not our death we are here about. We are here about Mary's death. Mary? Yes.

As in Mary, Queen of Scots? Why, yes. Which other Mary could we possibly be talking about? I only learned about Queen Mary's execution this morning. She was Her Majesty's cousin, yet also Her Majesty's fiercest enemy. I am not sure whether to congratulate you or offer my condolences. Perhaps both. A madman leaves the room and a fool enters. Pardon, my queen? Are you going to apologize? For what? The disastrous execution. Oh, now I see. But of course. The Brotherhood was behind Queen Mary's death.

Yes. My apologies. I have only just returned from a somewhat strenuous journey and have not yet been informed of the business undertaken in my absence. The Queen is better informed than me of my own affairs. How promising. I can assure Her Majesty there is nothing to worry about. Even though Queen Mary's death was not real, the Brotherhood of the Phoenix makes absolutely sure our clients never return. There is no danger that Queen Mary will come back to challenge the throne.

But that is not the issue, is it? Is it not? No. Then what is the issue? That ghastly beheading. Ah, Her Majesty is upset that it was not real. Of course, that is understandable. Having ordered her execution,

Her Majesty would of course prefer to see it actually happen. However, as much as I understand the desire to have it done over, we cannot disclose the whereabouts of our clients. That would undermine our profession, which I am sure Her Majesty understands. Stop rambling. Oh. We do not want our cousin dead. You do not?

No, and we do not have time for this codswallop. Then, my queen, I am at a loss. Wherefore is Her Majesty here? Because we are used to getting what we pay for. Excuse me? We would like you to assure us that this frankly disastrous beheading will be afforded us gratis. Gratis? So, will your so-called brotherhood forego the payment?

Payment for what, Your Majesty? Oh, for... Are you an imbecile? For Mary's fake death? Her Majesty paid for Queen Mary's fake death? Yes. I think we need to start at the beginning. Finally, finally, you are ready to hear our complaints. Of course, your majesty.

Very well. The scroll. What is it? The complaints. All complaints? It does not contain a list of your enemies or new laws to implement or your shopping list? It contains our complaints about Mary's death. Nothing more, nothing less. Oh. When will it stop unfolding? Let us begin. Ah. Secret Royal Scroll, 9th of February, 1587.

List of complaints pertaining to the unreal death of Mary Stuart at Fotheringley Castle on the 8th of February. We, Queen of England, Sovereign of England, by the right of God's mandate, object to... The sight of the scaffold. The shape of the scaffold. The creaky noises from the scaffold. The shape of the scaffold. The creaky noises from the scaffold. The poor workmanship of whomever built the scaffold. The scaffold being covered in drapery. Well?

The colour of said drapes. The shape of said drapes. The amount of said drapes. The poor workmanship of whomever sewed the drapes. You really did not like the drapes. Why were there drapes? Well, presumably to conceal the trapdoor and the lever that produced the replacement collars. The trapdoor, yes, apparently Mary landed on her behind.

We'll continue. Of course. The lack of a mattress or pillow for Mary to land on. behind. We'll continue. Of course. The lack of a mattress or pillow for Mary to land on, the height of the drop, the timing of the drop, the lack of warning before the drop, and the lack of practice falling through the trapdoor. The look of the headsman, the height of the headsman, the build of the headsman, the look in the eye of the headsman,

the smell of the headsman, the headsman's ugly hands, and the headsman's poor dental hygiene. Ah. I realize my apprentice Solomon must have been acting headsman yesterday. I'm afraid his dental hygiene does leave something to be desired. You have been public headsman at the Tower of London for years. Is that correct? That is true. Well, this position is just a ruse. My role here is a cloak, hiding my real visage. I prefer not to actually murder anyone. So what do you do? I take

care of aspects. Aspects? I assure the likeness of corpses to clients and shape the client's new face to make them unrecognizable. Right. What about the Raven Master? I assume his role here is a cloak as well. He does tend to the Ravens, but yes, his responsibility is to craft deaths and plan new identities. Crafting deaths and planning identities. How many of our enemies have you helped escape the crown? Your Majesty, I am afraid I must invoke client-death-faker confidentiality. But you have had clients from nobility and government under our rule. Yes, Your Majesty,

but I cannot disclose... Never mind, It is a digression. What I really want to know is this. Is it your habit to change the plan before the execution? Change the plan? You are not claiming what happened yesterday was the plan. Well, I do not know the plan, so... Because if that had indeed been the plan, we would never have aided Mary in acquiring a fake death. So I think we can agree that was not the plan, nor should it ever have been the plan. But since

it happened, we have a problem. Right. Let us continue. We object to... Of course. The time of day, the day of the week, the week of the month, the month of the month, the month of the year, the pineapple, the decade, the century, the millennia in which

it happened. Excuse me. Your Majesty ordered Mary's execution and her fake death. When else should we have done it? At a better time. We object to the amount of candles lit in the room. Your Majesty objects to everything. Pretty much. When we wrote the list, we were quite the room. Your Majesty objects to everything.

Pretty much. When we wrote the list, we were quite irate. Your Majesty, you clearly have numerous complaints, but so far I have not heard any grievances so serious they weren't the cancellation of payment. Oh, this was just the first few paragraphs. We started with the small grievances and saved the really dreadful stuff for the end. May I then request that we skip to the end, lest we be here all day? Skip to the end? Look! Have a gander at me! Oh, there you are.

Oh, you look at this dress he made me. I didn't care what to make of it. What is there to make of it? You look like a milkmaid. Is this... I can't... It's so plain. It's good for a milkmaid. Is this... I can't... I mean, it's so plain. It's good for a milkmaid. If you say so. I saw you with the raven, Master. You must

be... I am so sorry. Queen Mary, Your Majesty, I am at your service. Right, let's skip this in the bud. Please rise promptly. Yeah, what she said. Rise. You are not to refer to Mary as if she is royal.

Do you understand? We ask you to please observe that Mary is not a queen. But I am... Ask the Scots. I'm the Queen of bloody Scotland. Not anymore. Now you are a milkmaid. I used to be the Queen of France, too. Not only is she not a queen anymore, she is not Mary anymore. Seeing as Mary was beheaded yesterday.

I suppose that is true. However, you may still use her name until she's given a new name. Just refrain from royal titulations. That's a good boy. There is only one ruler in this room, and it is us. Thank you. Very well, Your Majesty.

Now that you are here, Mary, we will resume our complaints. Yeah, I'll land it on my bahoochie. It's loopin'. I apologise for that. Hurting bottoms or no, the headsman here has requested we skip to the end of the list. We have, in our wisdom, decided he may have it so. After all, we have a country to run. Now, it's true we're busy. You are not busy, Mary.

Well, I suppose... You are dead. Well, it's true, we're busy. You are not busy, Mary. Well, I suppose... You are dead. Well, I... Now, here we are. These are our most grave concerns. We object to Mary's sleeves being crimson brown. Crimson brown? What is wrong with that?

It is a becoming colour. It is the liturgical colour of martyrdom. Aye, a very becoming colour. You are not a martyr. I am though. You said so yourself. We said you were a victim of scheming noblemen who inflated your ego, twisted you around their finger and pitted you against us for their

own political goals. I am a martyr. Furthermore we object to Mary's jolly countenance. Her countenance? Your majesty how is her facial expression our fault? The Raven's master gave me atom lessons We worked so much on smiling

My cheeks hurt Smiling We also object to the unseemly comments Unseemly comments? I never had such grooms to make me unready I never put off my class before such company He had you say that It's an innuendo, innit?

It would seem so. Why was Mary instructed to be glib moments before her execution? May I please consult with my colleague? We do not have all day. Oh, do not worry. I will be right back. Arthur? Arthur? I'm here.

The clients are very dissatisfied. Oh, I know. They're bloody impossible, aren't they? Did you notice Queen Elizabeth's head? Such a loud voice from such a tiny head. I mean, she's like a screaming pea. You could have warned me. No, didn't I? No, you did not.

Oh, I must have slipped my mind. And also, I didn't want to make you prejud not. Oh, I must have slipped my mind. And also, I didn't want to make you prejudiced. Oh, how noble. Anyway, what did they bring up? So far, the main concern seemed to be the drapery, her sleeves, her countenance, and her parting words. Oh, the sleeves. Such lovely sleeves. I mean, they were symbolic. There seems to be a very long list of complaints. There is nothing I did that you cannot justify. Are you sure? Do you know what? I think this is the best death I've faked this century.

This century? Really? Yes. But unfortunately, this client and her patron couldn't tell a turd from an emerald. Oh, is that the argument you want me to put forward? Yes. Yes, you should defend my artistry, the originality, the thaumaturgy. Thaumaturgy? Are you sure this was a good death, Arthur? One of the best I've ever done. Very well. Was that enlightening?

As enlightening as I could hope. So? I believe the reason for the smiling and the unseemly words were misdirection, Your Majesty. Misdirection? Indeed. It is often smart to apply a level of theatricality to make sure...

Theatricality? Yes. Your colleague seems to think it was right to stage Mary's execution as a comedy. Well... I say comedy, I should have said horror. We now get to the gruesome part. The beheading? Yes.

Well, beheading is always a traumatizing sight, of course. We are not traumatized by seeing people die. People die every day. Plus, we were not present. Her Majesty was not present. No, but the details are very clear. We have read the account by Robert Winkfield, who was present. It is described as an almighty disaster. Why did you miss her neck and hit the back of her head?

Excuse me one moment. Oh, are you leaving us again? I will be swift as a sparrow. We missed her neck and hit the back of her head. Hmm? We pummeled her head. Oh, right, that, yes. Why did we pummel her head?

Well, the first blow had to miss her neck because the only replacement corpse I could find on such short notice had been killed with a blow to the back of the head. Right. Right. Any more questions? Well, we had to hit the replacement corpse in the same place... You hacked and hacked like it was a piece of firewood.

Hacked and hacked. I see. Well, will you please excuse me for just... No. You stay here. Ah. Sometimes the sinews will not cut with the first blow. If the replacement corpse was acquired on short notice, it may have been tougher than desired. But this brings us neatly to the following debacle.

Oh, I got worse, didn't I? It did? It did. It did. Why on earth did you have me wig? Come off. Your wig. In Robert Winkfield's words, then her dress of lawn falling from off her head, it appeared as grey as one of threescore and ten years old.

Pulled very short. Threescore and ten years old. Pulled very short. Three score and ten years old? I'm barely forty-four. Winkfield continues, her face in a moment being so much altered from the form she had when she was alive, as few could remember her by her dead face. If the face of the replacement corpse was not an identical match, corpse was not an identical match. Letting her wig fall off may have been another attempt at misdirection. Are you not in charge of aspects? I am. So why did you not change the corpse's aspects? I told you I was not available. Are you saying certain services were lacking? Even if I had been here, there may not have been time.

Can you still not see why we are dissatisfied? I am very sorry about the state of the replacement corpse. Perhaps we can consider a small discount. Her lips stirred up and down

a quarter of an hour after her head was cut off. He made the lips stir. For a quarter of an hour after her head was cut off. He made the lips stir. For a quarter of an hour. I am so proud. I have tried to teach him that trick for years, but I did not know he had mastered it. I thought this was a royal death, not a ghost story. Your Majesty has no idea how hard it is to make lips move.

I am proud to say we are the only death fakers ever to have mastered the technique. Moving the lips was misdirection, I take it? No. Realism. Realism? A dead body does not stop moving immediately. Now, have you come to the end of your complaints? We have one more. Just one more?

You know, we pride ourselves on being a moderate and tolerant queen. We avoid unnecessary conflict. We maneuver the political scene cautiously and diplomatically. One of our mottos is video editasio. I see. and keep silent. But we cannot keep silent about what went down at Fotheringay Castle. You have given justifications for the other, let's call them surprises, and though we still do not approve, we may see that you had reason for your idiosyncratic choices, but we shall be very curious to hear you explain the final one. And...

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After me wig had fallen off, Gaten came running out. The raven's master had put my poor wee wolfsty under the skirt of the replacement corpse. Gaten? Aye, his name's Gaten. Let us turn to Robert Winkfield's account again. If we must. A little dog which was crept under her cloths, which could not be gotten forth by force, yet afterward would not depart from

the dead corpse but came and lay between her head and her shoulders which being imbued with her blood was carried away and washed we lad might you have to see me die we and mary disapprove on different grounds england does not care for the emotional distresses you may have caused the mutt. We opposed the fact that there was a bloody dog running around licking Mary's dead face. And don't give us the misdirection nonsense. This happened after

her head was cut off. You didn't need any more asinine theatricality. If John Lilly's herds of acting children had run out into the scaffold wearing petticoats, belting their lungs out, it would not have been ill-fitting. At this point, adding a mongrel to the proceedings made nothing more than a mockery of the whole affair. It was a masterpiece of magic and absurdity. Was that your friend?

It appears he's listening from behind the door. Come in here and argue to our face. Why the dog? I cannot justify the dog. We didn't think so. Your Majesty, may I please ask a question? If it is pertinent. Why is the English crown aiding its most formidable enemy with faking her death?

She's our cousin. But she plotted to kill you. Yes, the Babington plot. So why help her live? Because we took pity on her. Pity? We went to meet Mary in secret. We had just signed the letter ordering the shortening of her life,

but before she was executed, we wanted to see her. Look once with our own eyes upon our kin and gauge what kind of woman she might be. Are you saying you two had never met? Never once. We only ever heard other people's accounts of Mary. Scheming, treacherous, treasonous. Folks

told me Elizabeth was self-righteous, unreasonable, tyrannical. But Mary was not the woman we had heard described. Neither were you. Imagine if we had grown up as cousins, chasing the ducklings in Hatfield Park. Yet all we were ever allowed to be were enemies.

When we entered the chambers, my poor cousin was crying. I was sitting by the fire, almost put it out. I had so many tears to shed. We asked if she was crying because of us. I said, no, I'm crying because of the bloody men. Which men? Lord Bothwell, Babington, the Dauphin Francis, all of the Spaniards. Are these men using

me all these years. I spent my life trying to be the queen everybody said I was. Doing what seemed the most royal and powerful thing today. But my actions had neither reign nor reason. They were just random decisions piled on top of each other. I had no political foresight, no ambition. Sitting there

before that fire, days away from my execution, I realised I had only ever done what men had told me to self-serving nobleman pushing this poor woman here there and everywhere until she is embroiled in so many plots against our person her fate was sealed

so Noah said dear cousin you're not the one to make me great in fact I'm grateful to you if it wasn't for you condemning me to death, I may never have realised. You may be taking my life, but you've given me something much more important. My self-worth. Our feud had been pointless. We had been tricked into it.

Decades of worrying, which needn't ever have happened if we had just met sooner. of worrying, which needn't ever have happened if we had just met sooner. So, your majesty decides to save Mary from the death sentence your majesty herself had issued, and the only way to do that was by contacting us. That was the idea. May I ask, why fake Mary's death at all? Why not pardon her or keep her in prison? Are you bloody joking? Do you know how many places I've been

imprisoned? I do not. I've been imprisoned in Loch Leven Castle, Workington Hall, Cockermouth Hall, Carlisle Castle, Bolton Castle, Tutbury Castle, Wingfield Manor, Chatsworth House, Wingfield Manor again, Tutbury Castle again, St Mary's Hall, Tutbury Castle a third time, Chatsworth House a second time, Sheffield Manor House, Sheffield Castle,

Wingfield Manor a third time, fucking Tutbury fuck castle a fucking fourth time, Chortley Manor, Tixall Hall, Chortley Manor again, and then Fathering Gay Castle where my head was cut off. I spent the last 19 years of my life in prison. A guilt cage is still a cage. Elizabeth here says so. Queen Elizabeth here says so. Aye, Queen Elizabeth made me realise

I got nothing left in this world but death. So I better get a new life. So when we land of your services... Those ewes went and botched it, didn't they? We did not. Mary is dead. Her death was flamboyant and idiosyncratic. So what?

So what? Yes, so what? We do not want Mary's death remembered at our expense. Ah. So that is the real complaint. But cousin, Elizabeth, I may be remembered, aye, but I'll be remembered as the insurgent. You will be remembered as the queen. Be that as it may, we still withdraw our patronage.

Your Majesty, now that all complaints have been aired and I have explained our reasoning, what happens next? You accept the loss. Mary, you cannot pay yourself. I'm dear to remember. You can't bring nothing with you when you die. Granny de Bourbon always said that. She has nothing. Yet, without payment, we cannot afford cows, we cannot set Mary up in her new life, and we cannot let Mary go out onto the street still looking like herself. Which brings us back to what we said at the beginning of our conversation. We have a problem. Will you excuse me for just one moment? I need to consult with my colleague one last time.

If you do not come up with an adequate decision, this may be the last time you do anything. Jesus, Joan and Mary. I see you went to get all your friends. They cheer me up. But can they help? Probably not. How's it going? We have reached an impasse.

Hmm. They refuse to pay. And as much as I respect your artistry, I must admit their complaints are... Don't say valid. Do not say valid. Understandable. If we want to save our necks, I fear the only way forward is to forego payment. No, no, no. We have vowed never to do that. I know. It sets a bad precedent. You said that.

I know. But there is only so long I can stand my ground. My neck is starting to tickle. Hmm. Any ideas? Well... Well? Well? You get us into this mess, now you get us out of it. It is not a mess. It is simply a misunderstood piece of art. Arthur!

Well, a raven did whisper in my ear. Yes? It may be a solution, but you will not like it. Tell me! Henry. Henry? Henry. Who is Henry? Oh, come on, you remember. Henry. Henry? Henry. Who is Henry?

Oh, come on, you remember. Henry. Oh, oh, Henry. Yes, that Henry. I mean, it makes sense. He was her father. And we do not set a bad precedent. I suppose not.

Yes, it's the best I have. It is not bad. Not bad at all. You like it? Oh, let us pray it works. Yes, all right then. Off you go. We have a proposition. You do, do you? This proposition better include me getting me cows. I was looking forward to the cows.

You will get your cows, if Her Majesty is willing to use her father's free disappearance on you. Excuse me? Our father's free disappearance? Henry VIII was a repeat customer. We gave him a customer card. What is a customer card? Buy three, get one free. Your father stamped three deaths. Cromwell,

his wife Anne Boleyn, and his wife Catherine Howard, of course. But he never got around to claim his fourth free disappearance. And you are saying we have inherited this card. You have indeed. Her Majesty has one free disappearance still to use as she wishes. If you decide to save it for the future, that is entirely your choice. But then again, Mary will be out on the street to fend for herself. Out on the street, being recognized, which would reveal that her death was faked. The Brotherhood would be exposed and we would have to flee. And we would become a laughing stock for failing to deal with our enemy. It is your choice, your majesty. Mary, you may have our free disappearance.

Thank God! No, thank us. Thank you, your majesty. That's a good girl. Ha ha, this is a wise decision, your majesty. Don, thank us. Thank you, Your Majesty. That's a good girl. Ha ha. This is a wise decision, Your Majesty. Don't push it. What, should we toast?

At the end of the interview, your friend said we always have a wee swallow. This is not an interview. Come on. Let's seal the deal. You may do as Mary says. I will open a bottle of grape wine. What shall we toast to? To diplomacy. To Gairdon.

We are not drinking to the mutt. Ah, are we toasting? Oh, lovely. No, no, no, no, no. Expel the ravens. Expel the ravens. Don't mind the ravens. Jesus, isn't he?

Those scratches will heal. They'll heal. I am so sorry. I am proof that they will. All right, you lot, come over here. On the arm. On the arm. On the arm.

On the arm. On the arm. On the heal. They'll heal, don't worry. I'm sure that they will. All right, you lot, come. Over here, on the arm. Go away. Please, Jasper, watch the claws. I am so sorry. He's always the tricky one. Right, anyway, back to the toast.

The ravens go or the dealers go. Don't, please. Toby's feathers are very delicate. No, no, no, go? Don't, please. Toby's feathers are very delicate. No, no, no, Your Majesty, please, please. Valentine's had it very hard. They're getting wild, Your Majesty. Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, please, please. Oh, no, no, don't turn the cameras around. What a mess. No, no, they're not chickens.

Such a shambles. Just, ladies, your majesty. Stuff you all, I'm drowning. Shoo, shoo, come on. Come on now. Stay tuned for the epilogue, but first the credits. The Amelia Project is a production of Imploding Fictions. This episode featured Kate Fleetwood as both Queen Elizabeth I and Mary, Queen of Scots,

Alan Bergen as the interviewer, Hemi Roham as Kozlowski, Jordan Cobb as Jackie and Erin King as Mia. The episode was written by Einstein Allspook Braga, with language consultancy and sensitivity reading by Alan Bergen and Maddy Searle, audio editing by Philip Thorne, sound design by Eli Hamada, McElveen music by Frederick Barden, production assistance by Marti Patsival, and graphic design by Anders Pedersen. Thank you to everyone who is part of our Patreon community and we're deeply indebted to our

super patrons. That's Celeste, Joze, Heat312, Jem, Fiddick, Alban, Assant, Amelie and Alison, Stephanie Weidneller, Raphael, Eduardo, Vifas, Verrastaki, Alison, Thro, Patricia, Bornwagner, Bryce, Godmer, Cliff, Huizinga, Michael, Wes, Diana, Birch and Brighter, Tim McMacken, Blythe, A massive thank you to all of you. Ryan Burnett, Robert Acker, SupercaliFragilistic, XBAlexNickel, Timotheus, Kaylee Wilson and Doctimus. A massive thank you to all of you. For more info and to access bonus content, go to AmeliaPodcast.com. And now, the epilogue. Huh.

What? It's just, this is such a different Mary Stewart. I'm having to re-evaluate so much of the history I learnt at school. Well, buckle up, Alvina, because I'm going to tell you about another remarkable figure. Ooh, let me guess. Before Elizabeth I, was it Edward? The something? Then Henry? Two Henrys? And then... Richard III! Now there's a story!

You're about to tell me about Richard III. Was he really as evil as Shakespeare made him out to be? You know, his body was recently found underneath a car park in Leicester. I could tell you a very interesting story about Richard and the princes in the tower, but I was thinking we'd take a break from British aristocracy. Hmm. No, you see, I had someone else in mind. A polymath. Mathematician.

Astronomer. Okay, interesting. I will tell you about... What's wrong, Alvina? It's looking straight at us. What? What, Alvina? What's looking straight at us? Go away! Go away! What are you talking about? Are you seeing things, Alvina?

The raven on your gravestone. Oh. It's staring right at us, I swear. I think he is. Do you think he was listening to the story? They're wonderful creatures, aren't they? I think they're creepy. You know, Swedish folklore has it that ravens are the spirits of murder victims who weren't given Christian burials.

Well, that just makes them even creepier. Why is it staring like that? It's like he knows you. Maybe he does. What do you mean? I often stroll down here and talk to the ravens. And they remember faces. Oh, creepier and creepier.

Hey! What? Stop it! Don't shout at the poor bird. I feel like it's judging me. Oh, yes, yes. They are quick to form impressions. And you don't want to get on the wrong side of a raven, believe me.

Why? What do they do? Some kind of curse? Oh, don't be so dramatic. No, of course not. No. But they are known to hold grudges. Grudges? Oh, yes. They can hold on to a grudge for several weeks. I hope he's feeling all right. Are you all right? What are you doing?

I'm speaking Raven. Oh, for... It's on your shoulder. It's on your shoulder. Careful, careful. It's about to peck your ear. Don't be silly. It just wants to tell me something. Right. Well, now. Well now, that's interesting.

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