❝ Tell me losing everything is what saved you,
Tell me you finally tasted freedom.
Can you even imagine yourself in paradise?
Even the daughter of gods must know loneliness, must sometimes want nothing more than to be trapped in a hell of forevers...
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November 1485
Lily stood outside the Westminster Cathedral alongside her mother, sisters and cousins.
"Today you become a Queen," Charlotte spoke softly, pressing a kiss to her firstborn's cheek.
"In a dress fit for a harlot," Caitlin giggled, referring to the slightly daring neckline of the dress.
"It's not," Lizzie argued. "It's a lot more proper than something I would've worn in her place at any rate."
"My breasts aren't even showing," Lily commented. "It's not my fault my future mother in law dresses like a nun."
The younger girls giggled at that.
"You don't sound very humble and penitent," Bella commented.
"Oh, humble and penitent be damned. I will be anything but that."
─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────
The bells rang madly as she entered, her dress catching the light with every step she took. She, her mother, sisters and cousins had slaved over the dress the past few weeks and Lily knew for a fact her mother had had many sleepless nights working on it with Bess. In the end, the result was beautiful.
Various layers of light blue cloth formed the bigger part of the dress. But the last layer was made of sheer lace — much harder to manipulate because of how delicate it was, in the end. Yet, sown into the dress it was. Bess had managed to sew beautiful golden leaves that intermingled with the pressed flowers that had been intricately added.
Her hair was styled on either side of her head with delicate curls. A long sheer veil trailed down her back, wrapped carefully around Lily's wrist to keep it from falling to the floor.
Henry offered her a hand when she climbed up the steps, and she took it, her fingers cold against his. He noted how clammy her palm was and how nervous she must have been, her fingers shaking a little. However, Lily had been trained to be a royal and she said nothing as they knelt in the golden pillows before the Archbishop, side by side.
Thomas Bourchier smiled at Henry as he started the ceremony, inviting everyone in attendance to listen in and pray as he began the mass. Henry could feel his heart beating in his chest and the burning stare of his mother in his back.
As Thomas read the parts of the Bible selected for the marriage, Henry looked at Lily from the corner of his eye. She was staring intently at the Archbishop, listening in to his words carefully.
He noticed that Thomas was looking back at him, concentrated on the task at hand.
"I, Henry, take thee, Cecily, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part."
