𝑂𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙....
In a world of bloody war and misgivings that lead to treason, there is only one thing Catherine Percy can be sure of and that is danger.
Her life had not always been thus, f...
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~Prince of Lancaster~
June 1460, Haddon Hall, one year later....
"My Lady! Really my Lady!" Agnes called as her little Lady flitted through the winding bushes and flowerbeds that filled Haddon Hall's garden.
Catherine had made them her own during the year she had lived in the great Manor House, creating her own little herb garden where she and Agnes grew lavender and such to put in pillowcases when they were washed each week! Red roses wound up the trunks of sturdy oak trees, beautiful when in bloom (as they were that summer) and yet painful to touch if one dared to venture into their thorny hands.
Married life was not a chore to her, in fact, it quickly became apparent that marriage gave her more freedom than she had ever thought she could have! Apart from the requirement to attend dinners with various Lords and Ladies, she was free to do as she pleased! As long as she did not leave the Bergavenny lands. But she did not want to leave them, not truly, they were in Georgie's care, just like her, and therefore they were safe.
Catherine thought little of her home high in Northumberland, she found, as the seasons turned like the wheel of fortune from summer, to winter, to spring, to summer again. It was more than a year since she'd been taken from her home, since she had seen her family and, as it was with young minds, her memory slowly began to fail her. She could still remember their voices, the joy they would bring when they saw her but their faces....their faces were a beautiful blur, like smudged paint on a once perfect canvas.
In a way, it was a mercy. To remember only brought pain, to forget brought peace and allowed her a chance to adjust to her new life. It was not a bad one by any stretch of the imagination, she had comfort and protection, a vast expanse of books and fine furnishings, silken thread for her to sew with through the months of winter!
She was not void of friends either, she had Agnes, her constant companion and confidant. The old woman may have had aching limbs and a slow pace of walking but her wit was sharper than a needle and her heart pierced with the arrow of unfailing loyalty. She protected the little girl as if she were a daughter of her own and Catherine adored her for it.
She found she adored her husband too, a strange notion at first but one she came to view as normal and was an adoration that was shared! George adored Catherine as his little sister whom he spoiled each chance that came his way, showering gowns and jewels upon her!
He was away from Haddon often, taking up duties for his family that had only heightened since that past October. Her husband told her little to nothing of politics, thinking she would not understand, and so she knew nothing but what she had known before. Each night she prayed for King Marguerite and King Henry, at mass too! Sometimes she would go to Haddon's chapel just to assure God of her loyalty to Lancaster.
