Original subtitles

Jane, this marriage protects us.

- Shut up! - I'm sorry?

- I don't want to be married. - We're all born to certain roles.

Our destiny is set.

Where's she going?

The Dudleys will do anything for power,

and they are very, very, very rich.

We're leaving. Now.

Stop! They're here!

Forgive me.

- Ethian. - How's my baby brother?

Weaker than a Sicilian's virtue.

- And his Will for Succession is... - Done.

I'm not afraid of death.

Your eldest sister, Mary, is indeed the rightful heir to the throne.

- What if there was somebody else? - Lady Jane.

Lady Jane Grey?

What a happy coincidence. Jane's husband-to-be is your son.

- You are the rudest man I have ever met. - Well, the night is young. Mingle.

Good evening!

- Come with me. - As if.

Mother, about the wedding. Please don't make me marry him.

I, Guildford, take thee, Jane...

It's the Affliction!

If you ever find yourself

faking a fatal disease to avoid saying "I do,"

first, check there isn't a royal medic in the congregation.

Because if you don't,

you might find yourself strapped to a table by a sadist

with a penchant for knife-work.

Bollocks.

A swift examination,

Lady Jane, is the only way

to assess if you are, in fact, sickened by the Affliction

and indeed near death, as your recent collapse intimates,

or if there is a-another simpler reason.

She's faking. The simpler reason is, she's faking.

Here, now, let's have a little look, shall we?

Let's go in here. Lovely.

And open-y, open-y.

Lovely. And up here...

The devil is that?

Oh, no, no, I know what that is. That's fine.

Might be a spleen thing.

Mm, yes. I'm all for de-spleening these days.

Useless organ.

Ugh.

Dear gods.

Uh, Dr. Butts, shouldn't you be with the King?

Don't you women ever stop talking?

Now, if you are ailed by the Affliction,

the blood shall tell us everything.

The blood shall tell him nothing.

The blood is made from dried beetle shells

and honey crystals Jane chewed up and dribbled out.

Cheerio.

Oh.

Why, 'tis sweet.

Perfect.

- No Affliction. - What?

Don't say "what." Say "pardon."

Your humors are out of balance.

Thus excess melancholy and unladylike aggression.

A thorough bleed,

and the wedding may proceed.

And I'll get my boy to make the blood into a, into a sausage for your breakfast.

Yummy, yummy.

Jane's options are clear.

Marriage or torture followed by marriage.

Followed by a sausage made from her own blood.

Stop! I'm better!

You are a masterful healer.

Mother?

Dr. Butts healed me.

I thought he would.

Lady Jane, do you feel better?

I do.

Swans mate for life. It's symbolic.

Jane wants to throw up.

Thank you.

All that effort, begging, pleading, running away,

- and then the merest hint of torture... - Wanker.

...and she capitulated.

- Did you just call me a wanker? - Called myself a wanker.

But I rather expect you're one, too.

You are even more charming and ladylike than I remember.

Oh, and you're Galahad reborn.

The very picture of chivalric manhood.

Did you just say that you're picturing my manhood?

Jane, darling, I haven't congratulated you

on this happy day.

I need some air.

No more games.

I know you hate it, but trust me, you will find this marriage empowering.

Empowering? He owns me now.

I am his wife. His chattel. His...

His problem and no longer mine.

Lady Frances. Lady Jane.

- The Duke of Norfolk sends his fondest... - Move, move and leave it in the gift room.

Thank you.

Jane, you outrank Guildford.

His grandfather was an accountant.

Whereas your great-grandfather was the King of England.

Tell me, Mother, did I fetch a good price or was I a bargain?

I would've paid them to take you.

Eat your swan.

Word to the wise. Now, listen.

Target is in sight.

The bull's-eye is clear

- but still requires a steady hand... - Dad.

...as we pull back the bow.

- So remember, twang, twang, twang. - What?

So, Stan, tell me about you.

My fiancée has the plague.

- Oh, bad luck. - Hmm.

My husband's dead.

- Bad luck, indeed. - I know.

Mm.

Was that a withering look?

Oh. And another one.

Consider me withered.

How'd you fake the blood in the church, anyway?

Mm, the blood was not fake.

Perhaps the medic was wrong

and I do have the Affliction simply crawling all over my lungs.

And, hey, now that we're married, you'll catch it and we'll both die.

Fingers crossed.

- Margaret. - What?

You're ten. Beer only.

I love wine.

- And Katherine loves bedding ceremonies. - What? Shut up. No, I don't.

Jane had forgotten all about the bedding ceremony.

People? People. Eyes to me.

Eyes to me.

Well.

His Royal Highness, King Edward,

has returned to the Palace to rule our great Kingdom

and to keep the Verity people safe!

Now, there are many here today who feared that this day would never come.

I mean, my rascal son, the Grey's unpopular daughter.

But as my darling departed wife used to say,

there is a key for every lock.

And Guildford has managed to insert that key today.

So, let's raise a glass

to the pure Verity union

of Lady Jane Grey and my son,

Lord Guildford Dudley!

Stand up, the two of you. Come on.

Raise a glass to Jane and Guildford!

Jane and Guildford!

Smile, huh? Teeth and eyes.

People love you.

I'd like to say a few words.

I stand before my countrymen... and women...

offering not just my blessings but those of my brother, King Edward.

There is no soul he holds in higher esteem than Jane.

I hear he's coughing all the way to his coffin, Bessie!

Silence, fool!

To speak of His Majesty's death is treason, even in jest.

I entreat you all to remember that when speaking of my beloved brother.

Besides, I can assure you,

good King Edward is alive and safe.

Incorrect.

Edward is alive but not safe.

Too much excitement.

I knew it would be. I'm always right about these things.

What news of... of Jane?

Jane is fine.

Fainted with joy. Bess is there on your behalf.

Mm. More Ethian uprisings in the north.

The Pack, sire.

Their beastly leader, Archer... why haven't you killed him yet?

I'm trying my best.

I-I wish to be alone.

Sleep, brother.

They're gone.

I'm starving.

Cheese.

Love cheese.

- Mmm. - I have had an idea.

We can find the poisoner

by finding the source of the poison.

To dogs, it smells like rotting flesh and poo-poo.

When I find my poisoner, I can order them boiled to death.

Marvelously barbaric. Dad's idea, of course.

Of course.

Oh, here's an idea.

Find the source of the poison, find the poisoner.

Didn't I just say that?

Tomorrow morning, we're going to have an adventure.

If I do this, if I help you, then once your poisoner is dead...

- Boiled. - Boiled.

Then you will come with me to Granny's.

Promise me. I can't go back there without you.

I promise.

I wonder what Jane is doing. I hope she's having fun.

Jane is not having fun.

Like every virgin contemplating her first meeting with "The Big D,"

Jane is feeling a heady mix of nerves and concupiscence.

Or as the kids call it, "the raging horn."

Jane has the raging horn for Guildford,

even though she knows he is utterly incorrigible

and that their first time, the bedding ceremony,

will be in front of everybody in this room.

Not dancing?

They're just stumbling and shit-faced.

Well, let me tell you a secret.

Sometimes getting shit-faced is incredibly good fun.

- You've got something in your teeth. - What?

Kiss!

- Kiss! - Kiss!

Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

As if.

Th-There's plenty of time for that.

We all know what's coming.

Thief.

How did that get in there?

And an Ethian thief, I'd wager.

I contain multitudes, My Lady.

Well, it's been a pleasure.

- But I must away... - No!

Do you know a woman named Susannah?

She's like you. Ethian.

She's my best friend.

We don't all know each other, actually.

What the tits?!

I had come in here to apologize for my rudeness,

but now I see you're pilfering our wedding gifts.

Perhaps I should. They'd fund my freedom.

You humiliated me.

This is a clearly doomed arrangement, so yes, I intend to leave you.

- As soon as possible. - Oh. Why?

You are one of the most notorious rakes in London.

- Oh. Thank you. - Oh, it's not a good thing.

Do you know what people say about you?

That you sleep all day, carouse all night,

spending your time with knaves, fools, harlots, drunkards, braggarts...

Well, you certainly seemed to enjoy my company in the tavern.

And besides,

at least I have friends.

And yet you still married me.

- A complete stranger. - I had my reasons.

Oh, how terribly cryptic.

My, what a fascinating enigma you are.

What were your reasons?

Money.

And to save my sister Katherine from an ancient Duke

who smells like a forgotten chamber pot.

Do I smell like a forgotten chamber pot?

I have not smelled you.

And I don't intend to.

It was not the killer exit line that Jane was hoping for,

but it was all she had.

- There you are. - Ah, the young lovers.

I began to wonder if you'd given in to temptation

- and jumped into the proverbial sack. - No. Dad. Absolutely not.

Jolly good, because the bedding ceremony is about to begin.

Come on. Let's go.

Come on.

After which, you must actually shag,

seal the deal.

Huh? Otherwise, this marriage could be ended

like that.

- Dad, really? - This way. Come on.

Well, this is quite the turnout, isn't it, eh?

Goodness.

Jane, I know we haven't discussed what happens between a man and a woman,

but if you're anything like me, I think you'll take to it like a duck to water.

Please, do not demean us both with a speech about the marital bed.

Right, get it off. Come on.

Remember, there's a deal to be sealed.

Fun is fun, but work is work. Get the job done.

Now, Jane, darling,

mouth closed, legs open.

You're killing me.

Now, that is a shoulder.

- Time ticks by, we all get older. - Please, Dad.

I spy a maiden's shoulder.

Tell you what, chaps.

I do rather fancy mummykins.

I've got a few tips.

Hold anything firm firmly

and anything soft softly.

- Apparently, it really hurts. - Shh. Don't listen to her.

Why aren't they leaving?

They need to see our legs to prove consummation.

They'll leave if we frot against each other.

Our feet, I mean.

Yes!

Now what?

Just wait.

Jane.

Now that we are finally alone, let me be clear.

I do not think that I should have to defend myself

or the way that I've chosen to live my life until now.

- Because it's indefensible. - Uh, let me speak.

Jane.

Do you...

Have you ever been in a situation where you've had to do a certain thing,

and then when you got there,

you didn't know if you could go through with it?

Not without a drink, at least.

Actually, I don't require wine for courage.

Or personality.

Gods' teeth, no wonder your mother sold you to the highest bidder.

- No wonder your father had to buy you a wife. - Well, I should thank him.

Because, of all the heinous, know-it-all wenches in the world,

I got stuck with you.

How dare you speak to me like that?!

Because I'm your Lord husband!

Who you are to love, honor and obey.

Ha!

Missed!

I wish to be alone until the morrow.

- Jane, that's the... - Good night.

Dressing room.

Shit.

Hello?

Let me out. Bastard!

Ah, mm-mm. To the left.

Left, left, left, left, left.

That's better.

Uh, actually, I didn't.

Oh, well, something to look forward to.

Look, do-do you mind if we just hop back up?

I'll be awfully fast.

Ow!

Stan, is that damp in the ceiling?

Look at him.

He just feels so sad.

Ah, he'll get over it.

Why doesn't your father take better care of this place?

Daddy likes to spend money. He's just not good at earning it.

Dudley's broke?

How broke?!

You're scaring me.

And I kind of like it.

Oh.

It must be... terribly vexing,

this money situation, for all of you.

Now, um...

come and unburden yourself

and tell me...

everything.

I cannot tempt you to join me?

I detest bathing.

How many times do I have to tell you?

We are peevish, I see.

Patience, Princess.

The throne will be yours. It is your birthright.

And when you have that crown,

- we can finally be married. - We can finally slay all the Ethians

- just like Daddy would've wanted. - That's exactly what I said.

That's not what you said.

Naturally, once Queen,

betrothal will be your honor to bestow upon me.

But until that happy day arrives, I hoped you would accept

this token of my abiding love and affection.

My love.

I'm overcome.

But you know I can't accept it.

You give me your ring instead,

and I'll wear that on a chain around my neck as a symbol of love and fidelity.

My eye ring? That-that was a gift from King Henry.

Yes, I know. And as he gave it to you, he kissed it.

'Cause you're special.

And now we have Daddy's blessing.

Hello?

Hello? Guildford Dudley, let me out!

Let me out of here!

You let me out of here, Guildford Dudley, right now!

Oh, you bastard! Leaving me...

Where is he?

Lady Jane! You can't go out like that. You're practically naked!

Your hair!

You are a wife now.

You only take your hair down when you're alone with himself.

During marital purposes.

Marital...

Oh.

A woman needs it at least once a day.

I like it twice myself.

If you don't get it, then all the fluids and vapors build up and cause fits.

I knew a widow from Exeter who missed marital purposes so much

that her eyes exploded.

And then she died.

Guildford will show you what to do.

Where is Lord Guildford?

Oh, he keeps a bed down by the stables. He likes the easy access to town.

Oh, I'm sure he does.

You!

You left me stuck in that sodding dressing room all night, you knave.

You locked yourself in the sodding dressing room, you numpty.

Jane, I really need to be alone.

Oh, well, we're married now, so not being alone is part of the deal.

Jane, please just leave.

Why?

Where are you...

You're a horse?

Change back.

Guildford, there are servants everywhere. Someone is going to see you. Change back.

Ah, I thought I'd find you here.

The inevitable wedding morning conversation.

Uh, he can't change. Not until sunset.

Uh, meet Rupert.

- He's Guildford's groom. - Milady.

What?

Don't say "what." Say "pardon."

Guildford can't control his Ethian powers.

Why?

Ethians can change back and forth whenever they want. Everybody knows that.

Not my boy.

Never has. We don't know why.

It's a sort of horse-by-day, man-by-night thing.

That's not a thing.

I think you're in shock.

Give yourself a little time, and you'll see that it's not that bad.

I mean, look at him.

It's not as if he's one of those Pack Ethians you hear so much about.

I mean, with Guildford, it's... it's more of a quirk.

So, you, Rupert and Guildford will embark upon your honeymoon today.

Honeymoon?

Why would I go on a honeymoon with a horse?

To evade prying eyes

and have some time to adjust and to focus on the realities of your marriage.

No. No. I can't stay married to him.

Jane. Jane, Jane, Jane.

I often find, with very clever people like your good self,

they gad about the place spouting Greek and generally arse-ing things up,

but they're frequently blind to bigger truths.

Do you know the punishment for Ethian-Verity intermarriage?

If I tell anyone, we're all dead.

You, him, me, your mother, your sisters.

Me, probably.

- Oh, definitely you. - No, this is madness.

My cousin, King Edward, will annul this marriage. He will protect me.

The ailing Verity King,

who's expanded Division Laws,

who's constantly hanging Ethian miscreants?

Do you really want to bet your life on that?

The only clear way out of this

is quiet obedience.

And a honeymoon far, far away.

Oh, Jane.

Did you actually think you'd find a real man to marry you?

As a boy, Edward thrilled at tales of Emperor Nero,

who would don a disguise and cavort around Rome as a commoner.

Now Edward is finally about to experience it for himself.

The world as a normal person.

A pleb, a pauper, someone who isn't probably dying.

Someone who shall uncover the truth, dash it.

Old woman.

I am a simple farmer seeking a herbalist.

- Pray tell... - Buy me pig or bugger off.

Did you see that? No idea who I was.

"Bugger off," she said.

- I can't see a herbalist anywhere. - Perhaps we should try the next village.

Wait. Look.

It's only a flower girl.

No, she isn't.

You distract her. I'll change and take a sniff around.

Marjoram, feverfew, sage and daisies.

Good for what ails you and bad for what might impale you.

Good morrow, flower peasant.

What can I do you for, sir?

I need a... sleeping potion.

Yeah, chamomile. Make a draft.

I mean a more... permanent sleep.

No. Sorry. Bugger off.

Filthy beast.

Look at the state of ya. Ethian scum!

I'm only a field mouse!

Guards. Where are you taking her?

Guards!

Where are they taking her?

Who cares? She's a beast.

I told you.

- A-About the sleeping draft, I... - Look, mate.

Poison is verboten.

Get it?

I don't have it. I don't sell it. I don't even know what it is.

Tofana?

It's a poisoner's box.

You nasty little thief.

You filthy little poison merchant.

To whom did you sell this? Was it someone at the Palace?

Tell him or I'll cut your blinking throat.

Fine.

Maybe I sold Tofana here.

S-Some berk in a cloak.

Guy with a creepy ring.

- Looked a bit like an eyeball. - What sort of eyeball?

Get out of here and leave me in peace.

What does that mean?

- It's kind of like "bugger off." - Ah, I see.

Tofana.

- We must get you to Granny. - No, no.

I need to talk to Jane.

A horse for a husband.

A fucking horse for a husband.

And a lying horse-husband at that.

Jane wants more than ever to escape.

And perhaps, if she hawks her valuable wedding gifts,

she can.

Would you please unlock that?

Oh, no. It's going on honeymoon with you.

Exciting.

There are some gifts that I would like to retrieve.

Your new Lord and master's orders, Milady.

He is not my Lord and master.

Greetings, sister.

Salutations, urchin-kicker.

Oh, they love me. How's married life?

Tallyho.

Good luck with that.

This just arrived for you. From His Majesty.

Bit manky, innit?

- We played with it as children. - Exactly.

Manky.

Say hi to your mum for me.

The note from Edward could only mean one thing.

Jane's fake collapse in the church had forced him to come to his senses

and annul her disaster of a marriage.

Edward.

Very definition of cloak and dagger.

- You look better. - Jane...

...what do you know about poison?

I have this friend,

and he thinks he might have accidentally ingested Tofana.

The Florentine Widowmaker?

Yes. I knew you would know.

You've always been so jolly clever about things like this.

- How bad is it? - Catastrophic.

Tofana is the most lethal substance that there is.

I mean, in large doses, well, it kills you instantly.

In small doses, it creeps into your lungs, seeps into your blood

- until it reaches your heart, and then... - And then?

You die.

I know.

I'll stay here for a while and help your poor friend.

Jane, I won't help you abandon your wifely duties.

You sound like Guildford.

- He can't be that bad, honestly. - He is that bad.

In fact, he is...

What?

What is he?

You know, you used to be the one person in whom I could confide.

There was nothing we wouldn't do for each other.

Jane, there is so much going on that you don't and cannot know.

- What do I not know? - No, it's none of your concern.

- Gods, why are you being such a prat? - Do not speak to your King like that.

You do realize it doesn't matter how many times you say "King."

- You'll never be your father. - And you're nothing but a wife!

Just Guildford Dudley's property.

Oh.

Whale pie. A little gamey.

- Whale. Such a challenge to digest. - I know.

All rise for the King!

Your Majesty.

I call you here today

to impart news that will, I trust, shock you

as much as it shocked me.

I have ascertained that my malaise

is not the Affliction.

It is, in fact, poison.

Furthermore, I have reason to believe that my would-be assassin

is somebody at Court.

It could even be one of you.

I demand each of you pledge to stop at nothing to find the culprit.

Your Majesty, please, rest assured that...

We will endeavor to find who's responsible for this.

- We will go to all lengths, and we will not stop until... - We will not stop.

You must banish any doubt within the royal mind...

- Every person within this Court... - I'm still speaking.

This atrocity...

- We'll solve forthwith. - We'll endeavor to find who's responsible for this.

- We'll go to all lengths... - There is no length to which we will not go.

- It's as simple as that. It is as simple as that. - It is as simple as that.

- We will find them, Your Majesty. - It is as... That's enough. That's enough.

If you cannot find the poisoner,

I'll assume you're all treasonous bastards.

And I'll boil you all together.

So, without further ado...

...bugger off!

Delusions of persecution.

The King is losing his wits.

Often happens in the latter stages of the Affliction.

Perhaps you're right. He looked terrible.

Positively waxy.

- Most unpleasant. - Oh, most unpleasant.

Let me look into this poisoning business.

Nothing's more important than the monarchy.

- Quite. - Quite.

Quite.

When Englishmen truly hate each other,

they will agree profusely.

He knows. The King knows.

The King knows?

You fool. You fool!

I told you!

Hush, hush, hush, my love. Someone will hear.

- I think you mean "Your Highness." - Yes, Your Highness.

Your Majesty.

- Maybe in a few days, he'll just... - No.

We don't have time.

I'm taking charge.

Hmm.

You do exactly as I say.

- Stan. - Dad!

Shall we get squiffy and talk about girls?

What? Oh, shut up. Listen to me.

I need you to go to the Chancery.

Find the King's Will for the Succession.

You bring it back to me for safekeeping.

Right now?

Don't "right now" me.

I believe there are powerful forces conspiring against the King,

but I haven't survived a lifetime in Court by picking fights I know I can't win.

My priority is the monarchy.

We must safeguard the Will.

Do you understand?

Whoever gets the crown controls the world.

My future, your future,

Guildford's future.

The entire Kingdom is at stake.

So stand and go.

- Can I get my bun? - I'll get you another bun!

There are two types of people in the world:

those who lie down and cry for mummy when things get tough

and those who know mummy wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire,

so you better jolly well get back up and keep fighting your corner,

because it's the only way you'll survive.

Rupert?

Desperate for a wazz.

Rupert, stop!

Oh, cheers.

We must make haste, Milady.

If either of you want to use the tree, I can watch the horses.

And the husband.

Ah, I shouldn't. It's, uh, it's not safe.

No, piffle. There's not a soul around.

- Go on. - Thank you, Milady.

Peter, let's take a slash.

Hello! I say, I'm terribly sorry.

My groom dropped down dead, wasn't it a bother,

my steed absconded into the night, I'm dreadfully hungry,

and I'm afraid I find myself forced to rob you to survive.

So open the fucking chest, lambkins!

Open it. I've got a stick, and I'm not afraid to use it.

Come on! Open the chest!

Open it! Open the chest now!

Yes!

There's nothing but books.

It's literature. There are no valuables in here at all.

Looks like the only valuable here is you.

Don't touch me!

Ever!

- Okay! - Bastard!

- How dare you! - Ow!

Ethian scum.

Lady Jane, are you hurt?

- I'm fine. - Oh, thank the gods.

Lady Jane, let's go. Before more of 'em come back to murder us.

"Quam Ut Rememdium Bestia."

How interesting.

I must see Lady Frances.

Oh. It's you. I told you...

King Edward's Will for the Succession, it's missing.

What do you mean?

Dad sent me to the Chancery, and it's gone.

It's missing. Stolen.

- I'm so stressed. Can I come in? - No.

Well, Dad will freak out when I tell him. I-I didn't know where else to go.

Frances.

What does it mean?

It means... we're all fucked.

Are you cheating?

Yes.

Come in.

Your Royal Highness, King Edward, Defender of the Realm.

Just get on with it.

It brings me both joy and pain

to tell you that I have ascertained the identity of your poisoner.

Lord Dudley.

Huh? What?

Your plan was clear.

- You betrayed your Kingdom. You betrayed your... - Lies! Your Majesty, I am the most loyal...

What on earth are you doing?!

What are you looking for, man?! I mean, get your...

Tofana. A poisoner's box.

That's not mine!

You tried to murder my baby brother? You treasonous vermin.

- Desist beating me! - Arrest Lord Dudley.

Lock him up in the Tower of London.

No. No. Sire, you are mistaken.

I'm innocent!

You're making a grave error!

Get your mucky hands off me!

No!

Shut that dog up, or I'll shut it up for you.

Here, brother, take my cozy cloak.

You need peace.

We must move you to the North Turret.

The eye ring.

To whom did you sell Tofana?

Guy with a creepy ring. Looked a bit like an eyeball.

Smuggling esoteric books on honeymoon

is a jolly odd move for a renowned scoundrel.

Despite being thwarted again in her attempts to escape marriage,

Jane is suddenly rather intrigued.

Tired after the journey?

Oh, no.

Boundless energy, horses.

Is that supposed to be funny?

To be fair, I did try and warn you about the horse thing.

That is not how I remember it. We need to talk.

Your father told me that you can't control your change. Why?

Ethians can switch back and forth whenever they want. What's wrong with you?

I don't know.

And why did you swap our wedding gifts with books?

I suggest you bring the wine.

"Das Biest Beenden."

They're all about curing Ethianism.

Yes, it's become something of a hobby of mine.

For obvious reasons.

Latin, Italian, Greek.

Is that Aramaic? You speak Aramaic?

No.

My father says you're very smart, that you're a polyglot.

Correctomundo.

- It's Italian. - And that you also know the medical arts

and you make these little cures and things.

Patronizing, but yes.

I am hoping

that you can use the knowledge in these books to cure me.

So you married me for my brain?

Look, I've read about Ethian cures, of course.

I just always assumed that they were myths.

You know, John of Damascus said that

it would be like curing the sea of being the sea, the earth of being the earth.

John was also burned for blasphemy.

The ancients thought it was possible.

Petronius with versipellis,

though his research was lost to time.

- So will you do it? - The thing is, Guildford...

What?

You've never said my name before.

What if I can't do it?

What then?

All I'm asking is that you try.

Please, Jane.

I don't want to live like this.

Neither do I.

This marriage was never my desire.

Then what is your desire?

Independence.

So a divorce?

How modern.

Fine.

You find me my cure, and this marriage is over.

Jane.

Please.

I need this.

Never tell me to obey you again.

Never.

Promise.

I do.

- Jane, one last thing. - Yes?

Obviously, I know you'd rather not be husband and wife,

so you needn't worry about, um, marital obligations.

Oh.

Yes, good. I'm glad we can be friends.

Yes.

Friends.

This is you.

I'll start my research tomorrow.

Thank you.

Guildford.

Yes?

Sleep well.

You, too. Good night.

- Good night. - Good night.

Petunia?

Guards?

Servants? Anyone?

- He's my brother. I'll do it. - Yes, yes, dear.

It was Princess Mary and Seymour coming to kill him.

Eddie?

Eddie?

I'm coming in! Eddie!

Eddie! It's only me.

I need to talk to you.

Eddie!

Where is he?

He must be here.

Your Majesty?!

Your Highness?!

He's gone.

The door was bolted. A dozen guards stationed below.

There's no other way out this room except...

He must have fallen trying to escape.

Edward is dead.

Edward is dead!