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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~Edmund~
January 1461, Haddon Hall....
It was no strange thing for Catherine to sit upon the dais alone, seated comfortably in George's great chair that dwarfed her while she ate and drank. With his many absences from Haddon, she had grown accustomed to her place and the servants had become accustomed to her leadership.
Now, for the New Years celebrations, the women of the household feasted in the great hall, all of them sat at long trestle tables while Catherine and Agnes sat upon the dais. The young girl looked at the rows of women (wives of squires and the like) under her care, each laughing and eating, drinking and singing; merry as ever.
And it made her pleased.
She sat up straighter than she ever had done in her chair that night, keeping her head stationary for fear that she would topple the hall hennin she wore. It was her first time wearing such a garment after Agnes had insisted that now she was married (and eight too), it was time for her to wear headdress as other ladies did.
Apart from women of the highest rank, such as Queens or royal Duchesses (who often preferred their intricate braids and coronets), a headdress was part of a noblewoman's ensemble, the steeple hennins, escoffions and cauls marking them out as ladies of rank. They decorated them with jewels, lengthily veils and sometimes Queens and their daughters would have crowns fastened onto theirs for a headdress was not only for fashion, but for modesty.
It was a symbol of marriage as well as rank, a symbol of the holy rule that none other than one's Lord husband could see their hair unbound. Catherine had always thought it a silly rule and she thought it more so now than ever, grimacing at the metal pins that dug into her scalp.
"How do you bear it?" She whispered, turning to Agnes who was delicately lifting a spoonful of soup to her lips, fully confidant that her damask escoffion would not fall from her head. A small chuckle left her thin lips and she lay her silver spoon down beside her bowl, looking at the disgruntled girl beside her with a degree of amusement.
"I bear it because I take pride in it" She answered "Just think of how many headdresses Lord George shall now buy for you! How many jewels you shall acquire to accompany them!" At that, Catherine's eyes lit up slightly, the promise of more finery a balm to her shredded nerves.
"Perhaps I shall learn to like it then" She decided evenly "But I think I shall prefer cauls like my Mother. They pose far less danger!" Agnes smiled and took up her spoon once more, about to continue her feasting when the hall door banged open and a serving girl suddenly rushed through.
Catherine stood, gathering her gown of blue silk around her before beckoning the girl to come forward. This servant was easily twice her age but she did not falter for that, she acted every inch a great lady, acknowledging the girl's rushed curtsy with a nod. "What disturbs our feast, pray tell?"
