Elizabeth was going about her usual business, keeping the Queen company. Elizabeth was a lady-in-waiting to the Queen. She enjoyed this job very much, as it kept her social standings up, and she also happened to like the Queen very much. Elizabeth was sitting on a stiff bench by a window that had a most spectacular view of the grounds, while knitting stockings that would soon be on her own husband's legs.

Elizabeth was neither the youngest nor oldest lady-in-waiting, rather in between. She was married when she was a young girl, but she was very fond of her husband, George. She became pregnant at a young age, only being fifteen when she conceived her first and only child. Her son's name was William, and he was her pride and joy.

Elizabeth was one of the few people allowed in the Queen's chamber at the present time. With the Sweating Sickness going around yet again, the entire castle was paranoid. Especially since the sickness seemed to have a fondness for the higher social class; the other sicknesses usually left them unscathed. Because of this paranoia, the entirety of the room was surprised when a guard stuck his large, balding head into the usually closed door.

"My apologies Your Majesty, but I was sent urgent news for Lady Elizabeth, I am afraid," the guard said gruffly, a tinge of sadness in his burley voice.

"Yes, what is it?" Elizabeth spoke, her voice sounded foreign to her ears from the lack of talking for hours on end combined with the worry she had begun to feel.

"There is word that William has contracted the Sweating Sickness," the guard said, looking down at his abnormally large feet.

Elizabeth didn't make a sound for a while. She just sat and tried to absorb the information she had just been told. How could he have gotten that, she thought, she had just seen him days before? She told herself this despite knowing the sickness acted quicker than a few days, it took hours sometimes to kill someone.

"Permission to leave Your Majesty," Elizabeth asked the Queen, her voice quivering with fright.

"You may. I do hope your son shall be alright."

Elizabeth walked as quickly as she could to the stables outside. She had gotten a horse a few years before as a gift from the Queen. The Queen was always so gracious to Elizabeth, and Elizabeth was loyal in return. She knew that the Queen was being sincere when she had spoke about her son, as the Queen had known William for years.

Elizabeth found her horse, a black Stallion, and climbed onto it. Not bothering with riding the "lady way", she swung one leg to the left of the horse and the other stayed on the right. She started riding as fast as the horse could go and soon let her hair down. It felt so good to have it down, to feel the wind blow through it as it used to when she was a young girl. She, along with the other women, was made to wear her hair in a hat or veil whenever in public after she had become married.

Fields of green blurred around her, but she did not see them. She was focused on arriving at her destination, which was about an hour away when riding with the court. She figured she could get there in half an hour’s time at the speed she was riding.

As her long blonde hair whipped in the wind, she thought of her son. The first time he had spoke, the first steps he had taken. She thought of his cute blonde curls and his dimples. She thought of his ambition and dedication. She smiled as tears ran down her face. Her son would not die, she thought defiantly, he would live and she would be the one to nurse him back to health.

She reached his home, which was magnificent in its own right. It had been a gift from the King, who was extremely fond of William. She rode up to the great wooden door and pushed it open, not even bothering to knock. Elizabeth immediately ran up to her son's chamber and pushed that door open as well.

There he was, lying in his bed with the blanket pulled all the way up to his neck. He was shivering violently and looked as if he was the coldest man in the world.

"Mother," he croaked, shivering still with great intensity.

Elizabeth ran to him and held his cold face in her hands. She was so happy to see him, but she felt a sharp pang of worry to see her son so ill.

He was in the cold stage, which meant that the Sweating Sickness was still early on. She had time to help him get better. The only problem was, she had no idea how to make him healthy again. When people she had known became ill with the sickness, they were not nursed; they were left on their own to either overcome or be succumbed.

All she could do was sit next to her son, hold his hand, and comfort him when he shouted out in pain.

"Oh mother, it hurts so bad," he would scream out, "Please make it stop."

Elizabeth could not stop the tears that were now steadily rolling down her face, as she listened to her son's cries. She wanted so badly to help him, to cure him. She held his hand as the sweating stage began. He started sweating profusely and his mouth went dry. He cried to her that he needed a drink, so she brought him water to quench his intense thirst, but this did not help. He was still so ill.

Elizabeth suddenly fell down onto her knees and began to pray. She prayed as hard as she could; she offered herself up to him instead. "Take me instead, transfer his sickness to me!" She pleaded.

As she got back up to stand on her feet once more, she noticed her son's eyelids were drooping. "No!" she screamed, "You cannot sleep son! I'm sorry, you cannot," she said with urgency. Everyone knew that if you were permitted to sleep, you would not wake up. She struggled for hours and hours, all through the night, to keep her son awake.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, her son had stopped sweating. He was gaining his health back little by little.

"Mother, can you believe it? I did not die!" William smiled weakly, the dimples popping out on his face. She rubbed her hand over his cheek and smiled back.

"You may sleep now William," she said, grinning down at him as she stepped out of his room.

As soon as she closed the heavy door, a feeling of dread washed over her. She knew what was to come; she knew that the Lord had accepted her offer. His health in exchange her own health. She found an empty room in her son's home and slowly lowered over the bed.

The cold chills that showered over her were dramatic and sudden. She felt as if she would never be warm again and couldn't stop shivering. It felt as if she had been dipped into a well and then left out in the snow.

Soon after, she began to warm up quickly. She could not believe only moments ago she had thought that she would never be warm again. Now she was too warm. She felt sweat run down her arms and legs. There was soon an excruciating pain in her heart that would not let up. She felt as if it would soon explode.

The sweating soon stopped and she began to feel extremely tired. She knew she would soon fall asleep, and she had come to terms with the fact that she would not wake. "It's my time now. Thank you for saving my son," she prayed aloud. She let her eyelids slowly close and was soon fast asleep. A sleep which she would never arise from.