❝you think Achilles was of impressive descent?
touch me one more time❞
The one where King Edward IV is captivated by Charlotte Neville and their love has far-reaching consequences. For Charlotte had a place in Edward's heart no one could tear her fr...
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"The child had the appearance of a girl, about six months old. Even if Lady Charlotte did not miscarry the child, it did not look like it would have survived. It looked like it had died already, perhaps two or three weeks ago, and she said it stopped kicking about a week ago," Hatteclyffe explained to the disheartened King. He had his qualms about the pregnancy when Charlotte said it stopped kicking, but Hatteclyffe did not want to scare her in case the child really still lived.
"What now?" Edward asked, looking up, trying to hide the tears threatening to fall. At least the child had no hope, so their argument did not cause their child's death, but that did not make accepting the death any easier.
"The Lady Charlotte lost a lot of blood, and it would be best for her to rest for at least a week, absenting herself from court. Then in perhaps six months, you can try again. You are both young enough to have more children," Hatteclyffe reassured him.
"Thank you doctor," Edward replied, dismissing the man so he could go see Charlotte.
When he entered, her ladies curtsied to him but there was a lack of love and more scorn than before in their eyes, as if he caused this! Their baby's death was just waiting to happen, it just choose that time to happen. Most of the ladies, however, had little time to spare to scrutinize their King, as they were washing the bloodied linen from the bed and Charlotte's soiled nightgown.
"Hello mon coeur," Edward began cautiously, approaching her bed carefully.
"I'm not angry with you. Hatteclyffe said it was going to happen anyway. I'm sorry too, we will have to talk more civilly tomorrow about your stepson..." she was cut off.
"No, we won't talk about it tomorrow, not until you are well again," Edward said, holding her pale hand with a weak grip as he climbed onto the bed with her, careful not to jostle her fragile body.
"We have to talk," she murmured.
"But not now," Edward argued softly.
"Are we going to survive this?" Charlotte asked, now pressed to Edward's chest.
This, she thought, such a small word for so much they had to discuss. So much damage and trauma they had chosen to sweep away to the side rather than to deal with it at the moment.
"I think so," Edward exhaled.
She tensed. "You think so?"
"This is another thing to add to what we have survived," he said softly.
"We need to talk about it," Charlotte whispered. "All of it. Everything that has happened. We can't just skirt around the subject anymore."
