The White Queen -The White Queen

Westminster Palace, London, England, Winter 1469

When I hear the news that the despicable man Warwick is approaching quickly make my way to the front of the castle wings, that overlooked the front entrance to the courtyard where the Earl of Warwick strides in on a horse, once again greeted as a beloved friend and loyal mentor, as if he did not murder my family in cold blood. Jacquetta is already there with Eleanor Morley, my dearest friend, who is seven months pregnant with the child that would never know their father. Both of them are already staring at Warwick out in the distance, I'll look of resignation upon both of their faces.

"They are coming here for Christmas," Jacquetta says, "we are not even out of mourning."

"Maybe with them close to us our curse can do its work," Elizabeth replies coldly.

Ella looks at us with a mix of admiration and fear. She has been my lady in waiting long enough to know that I have dabbled in things that have not only been on the line with church teachings, but at times have crossed the line and broken down entirely. I have not told any of my ladies in waiting about the curse. The last thing I need is for somebody to say something to a husband and have half of London know that I have cursed the Earl of Warwick and my despicable brother-in-law. However, even she knows somethings happening. It's not like she would ever tell anyone either; she is as eager to avenge her husband as the rest of the family is. 

"I'll make them my ladies in waiting," I say as an afterthought.

"Do you think that will help with whatever you're planning?" Ella inquires timidly.

"I don't know Ella," I tell her bluntly, "if there's a chance that it speeds up the process, I'll take it."

Yeah we watch as my husband strides toward Warwick and his brother, as if they have not just murdered some of his closest advisers, as the one of the men that these men murdered does not have a pregnant widow and her children that reside within my own household, and hugs them. He hugs them as if they were a good friend that has just returned from a long in perilous journey. He hugs these men as if they do not have innocent blood on their hands. He hugs them as if this will all be forgotten in a heartbeat. I knew of a similar reconciliation that took place in the winter of 1458. It was a piece that lasted 8 months and brought nothing but destruction after it fell apart. I have a feeling that this piece will be no different. 

Jacquetta, Elizabeth, and Ella do not have to be there at the entrance door when Warwick walks in, but as queen of the court I am obliged to. Are used to feel at a disadvantage when facing the Earl, as he was a learned man of the world and I was nothing but the wife of an earl, an heiress to a great fortune, but still only a countess in my own right. Now I feel no such disadvantage. I glared at him icily as I am willingly say in a voice that is as warm as winter, "Welcome back to court."

I then show him his daughter Alice, who I have taken care of the past couple months when he willingly forgot her to arrange the marriage of his daughter Isabell to my traitorous brother-in-law. He hugged her as any father might hug his daughter, but she is uneasy. I can only feel petty for the poor girl. I can only imagine what she goes through it. This is her father and she is bound to love him, but who can look at your father the same when you know he has killed innocent people? My father always made it a prerogative in his army to never touched innocent civilians. If money and food came down to a dire situation he would pay out of his own pocket rather than have his army raid a local village. The Earl of Warwick is so unlike my father though. I wonder what my father would've thought of him now, would've thought of me now, as a welcome him back to court with supposedly open arms. 

I watch after the Earl breaks apart from his hug with his daughter as he turns to me and smiles. It is the smile of an actor. It is the smile of a politician who has just told agree the sly and thinks that it is working. I smile back, the Wayfair it looks more droopy as I wish to punch him in his smug face. And that is when I know for certain, I want this man dead.