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Regenerated as Queen: Ruling Over Britain

  • Genre: Fantasy
  • Author: xia
  • Chapters: 63
  • Status: Ongoing
  • Age Rating: 18+
  • 👁 338
  • 7.5
  • 💬 0


Revived in the sixteenth century, she steps into the illustrious shoes of Mary Stuart: Becoming the Queen of Scotland just six days after birth, aligned for the French crown at five, and setting her sights on the throne of England at fifteen. However, despite her seeming advantages, she now has to brave the tumultuous tide of her era, striving relentlessly in the hope of avoiding the grim future of being executed by the Virgin Queen, Elizabeth...

Chapter 1: Born at the Finish Line

Once upon a time, as a true-blue Australian, her favorite foreign name was Mary. She was enamored with all names derived from "Mary": Maria, Marina, Marian, Marissa, Marilyn... Perhaps, even, including - Mary Sue? Despite her age, she had a vague sense that all gifts from fate probably came with hidden costs.

Then, she transmigrated.

As a woman who transmigrated in the womb, after she struggled through the tight birth canal, emerged from her mother's abdomen, and saw the light again, she heard a weary sigh: "It's a girl... Let's call her 'Mary'." Not long after, she learned that her mother, the woman who birthed her, was also named Mary.


On December 9, 1542, in Linlithgow, Scotland, the day was foggy and overcast. This land, surrounded by the North Atlantic Current, except for extreme north, enjoyed a temperate maritime climate and wasn't always bitterly cold. Undoubtedly, the birthing room of the Queen of Scotland was ablaze with a roaring fire.

The newborn Mary, freshly cleaned of amniotic fluid and blood, full after a few sips of breast milk, curled up in her soft swaddling clothes, yawning, and dozing off. The wet nurse gently patted her and looked at the half-asleep new mother, whispering, "Your Majesty, the little princess looks quite healthy."

"That's good," the weary Queen rubbed her temples and, with half-closed eyes, asked her attendant, "How is the King doing?" Despite the successful birth of her child, she couldn't relax, fearing not only postpartum fever, but also worrying about the child's health, regretting she had a girl, and her husband – the current King of Scotland - was lying on his deathbed at the neighboring Falkland Castle, at the age of thirty-one.

"…According to the messenger, there has been no improvement," replied the attendant.

Mary de Guise, who had just returned from the brink of death, shed a tear upon hearing the news. "May the Lord bless him with a speedy recovery." Although she sincerely wished for his recovery, she had a foreboding that her prayers would be in vain. Her intuition was rarely wrong – she had a similar feeling when she lost her two sons before.

Sure enough, on December 14, 1542, Queen Mary heard that her husband, James Stuart, had drawn his last breath. "The doctors suspect typhoid fever, Your Majesty. He couldn't survive the high fever," Lord Livingston, who brought the news, said with a regretful, bowed head.

At this moment, six-day-old Mary was struggling to open her eyes. She was swaddled tight, and even if she weren't, she wouldn't have had the strength to move. An infant's eyes could only see blurry black, white, and gray, but her ears accurately captured the solemn proclamation in the room: "Therefore, the lords have decided that I should come to inform you, and we will choose a day to crown the new monarch."

Mary was suddenly awakened. Her stepfather had died without even meeting her? And as the "only child," she was about to be promoted? Indeed, the royal couple had only one legitimate offspring – her.

The newly widowed Mary, now the Queen Mother of Scotland, wept for a moment, then weakly stood up, leaning on her chair, and made the sign of the cross. Looking down at the kneeling lord, she murmured, "Please help me and the new monarch. We are in desperate need of your assistance."


As an infant, even when well-fed and warmly dressed, Mary's thoughts were often clouded by the limitations of her developing mind. It took her several months to grasp the three fundamental philosophical questions of human existence: "Who am I," "Where do I come from," and "Where am I going?"

Her official identity was the only legitimate child of the previous King of Scotland, James V. Although he had several illegitimate sons, his first marriage didn't produce any children. He and his second wife, Mary de Guise, had two sons, but both died in their infancy. Given the Stuart royal family's lacking male heirs, the Scottish nobles had to acknowledge Mary as the undisputed new Queen of Scotland.

Yet, beneath the infant queen's exterior was a soul from 500 years in the future, one that had not experienced many hardships in life. As a seasoned homebody from an information-driven society, she felt a sense of relief when she realized she had transmigrated – as if it were finally her turn.

As for her future, many people were eager to make decisions for her while she was still swaddled. In June 1543, when baby Mary had just learned to sit up, King Henry VIII of England proposed a marriage alliance for his beloved son and heir, Edward Tudor.

As neighbors, England and Scotland had a history of love (royal marriages) and war (nationwide conflicts). Of course, it was mainly England oppressing Scotland. In the future United Kingdom, England had already conquered Wales and secured the Irish crown, leaving Scotland as the final obstacle.

For European royalty, who considered their nations as personal property, "marriage" and "inheritance" were more mainstream, cost-effective, and convenient ways to annex other countries than military conquest.

On July 1, 1543, England and Scotland signed the Treaty of Greenwich, agreeing that Scottish Queen Mary Stuart would marry English Prince Edward Tudor in 1552. In the future, their heirs would be the rulers of both countries.

Although English royals had married into the Scottish royal family more than once in history, their hostilities never ceased because of these blood ties. This time, Henry VIII hoped for a permanent reconciliation, just like his father, Henry VII, who had ended the War of the Roses through marriage.

It was a lofty ideal and a good solution to conflict. While Queen Dowager Mary wouldn't oppose a solution that solves all problems at once, she was no naive or easy-going woman. This eldest daughter of the French Guise family had remarried as a widow to James V. Being as intelligent and sharp as she was, she easily recognized the dangerous traps within this marital contract.

Henry VIII not only demanded the immediate relocation of his future daughter-in-law to London for upbringing, but he also stipulated that in the unfortunate event of the Queen's premature death, all her powers and the kingdom's wealth would belong to the English monarch.

Another king might have earned the faith in the "nobility and honesty of a monarch" from Queen Dowager Mary. However, Henry VIII's reputation was utterly ruined in her eyes. He had not only expelled his first wife who was faultless except for her inability to bear a son but also condemned two of his other queens to the scaffold under false charges of adultery.

This king had once proposed marriage to her when she was a widow. At that time, Mary de Guise thought of the last words of his second wife, Anne Boleyn, and responded fearfully, "I have a slender neck."

In short, Queen Dowager Mary assumed that Henry Tudor wouldn't hesitate to ensure the premature death of a young queen to inherit her legacy sooner. Therefore, she could absolutely not hand over her daughter to him.

However, before that, it was necessary to legitimize the Scottish queen's status and provide her more reliable protection.

So, Mary, who was learning to crawl, was secretly taken to Stirling Castle by a group of "loyal servants."

On September 9, 1543, she was dressed in heavy royal robes and carried into the royal chapel by Lord Livston. The lord took great care of Mary to ensure that the deep-red velvet cape did not strangle her. Silk, fur, gems - all the royal decorations symbolizing her status could not be missed.

The soft daylight filtered through the window, creating a sacred atmosphere. The participants were mostly standing with their hands down, surrounding the altar like stars around the moon. It was a very solemn and sacred Catholic coronation ceremony.

Unfortunately, Mary, whose vision was still developing, saw little from the blurry world around her in Lord Livston's arms.

Her subjects placed Mary on the throne, adjusted her sitting position, and supported her with their hands to prevent the queen from falling. The bishop came close, reading out the oath loudly. As Mary could only babble at this age, Lord Livston responded on her behalf. Afterwards, the bishop anointed her, and the royal scepter was passed to Mary's hands.

With her tiny fingers tightly grasping the hefty staff, she felt a sense of control over the world starting to fill her young body, as the initial confusion in her mind gradually faded.

Despite the somewhat simple ceremony, it was a sincere and sacred moment of coronation. At least for now, the silent, colorless, and formless Lord mentioned by the clergy had indeed "chosen" her.

Mary suddenly felt very at ease. Despite still being an infant, it seemed that she could already grasp some elements of her own destiny.

As a woman, she was destined to have less autonomy than men in this dark and unenlightened age. But being born a queen gave her a relatively full measure of dignity and freedom - something a soul from the future didn't feel it lacked.

The bishop fastened the sword of state around the queen's waist, and the crown was tightly secured on her head. Then, two grandly dressed lords approached and kissed her cheeks.

Mary comfortably "enjoyed" the "services" of the people around her, as, regardless of age, this part of the ceremony was to be completed by her subjects.

No matter how respectful or disdainful their expressions, she didn't care much. After all, she couldn't see clearly anyway.

Now, they collectively knelt down, allowing the queen to look down at the tops of their heads. The voices of their loyalty oaths were incredibly synchronized, and for a moment, Mary felt a great sense of vanity.

Once a commoner in the future life, she was now truly a queen in this "real world" and was receiving the worships of her dignitaries...

It felt strange, yet amusing. Mary suddenly wanted to laugh, even wanted to imitate the emperors in the TV dramas she used to watch, saying something like "rise, my lords."

"Ah, ah..."

Unfortunately, her mouth, with only four teeth and occasional drools, could not express what she truly meant.


Mary couldn't help but feel frustrated with her uncooperative tongue.

Lord Livston, the male nanny, came over. After studying Mary's furrowed face, he suggested, "I think Her Majesty might need..."

He interpreted her behavior as a need for a diaper change and subtly hinted to the bishop that it was time to wrap up the ceremony.

None of the nobles with parenting experience laughed. While impatience due to hunger or thirst could be dismissed, the sight of the newly crowned queen wetting herself on the spot would be dreadfully inappropriate.

As a result, while maintaining a calm exterior, inside they were all in a frantic rush to complete the ceremony, quickly summoning the nanny afterwards.

Inside, Mary was thinking, "..."

Chapter 2: Blood and Betrothal

At the end of 1543 AD, Scottish nobles, having "exposed" King Henry VIII's "conspiracy," formally requested the dissolution of the betrothal between Mary Stuart and Edward Tudor.

The English king, subject to a broken engagement, was furious. His army was promptly ordered to set fire to Scottish towns and villages, to slaughter the residents with their swords, and to plunder all their belongings, even to reduce the neighboring country to ashes.

As long as they could bring back the Queen of Scotland from the ruins of war.

However, Mary's mother, the Queen Dowager, escaped with her daughter into the fortified Stirling Castle, eluding the ever-victorious English army, which failed to capture its most important target.

Having lost its strategic objective, King Henry VIII had no choice but to compromise. The unequal betrothal agreement was revised, allowing Queen Mary to wait until 1552, when she turned ten years old and was ready for


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