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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~Lovely Elizabeth~
May 26th 1465, The Tower of London....
"I wonder what she is like" Catherine murmured aloud as Margery poured more water into her wooden tub; relishing the warmth as it ran over her bare skin. Her fingers toyed with her hair, twisting the golden strands around and around while she tried to picture the new Queen of England that was to be crowned that day. "Have you seen her yet? Is she beautiful?"
Margery laughed, placing down her metal jug and selecting a glass vial of lavender oil from the nearby table.
"We only arrived yesterday, Cat!" She replied, uncorking the small bottle and pouring the contents over her mistress "but they do say she is very beautiful! The most beautiful woman in Christendom!" Catherine hummed, gently rubbing the oil into her soft skin.
"The most beautiful woman in Christendom? Well, I wager that shall only serve to infuriate Warwick more, just as I hoped" She could feel Margery grin behind her and waved for her towel, rising from the warm water. Her curiosity towards the new Queen had been pricked as she and her husband rode towards London from Alnwick, the month long journey giving her ample time to grasp pieces of information from servants and fellow nobles.
Her Mother had told her to befriend this Elizabeth Woodville and she had decided she would. Or at least try to. Her family allegiance certainly helped, as did their past loyalty to her Father. The Woodvilles would most likely sympathise with her and from there, she would secure their friendship.
She only hoped Queen Marguerite would not hear.
Stepping out of the bath, a soft towel wrapped around her body, she allowed Margery to fetch a second, patting her hair dry before a clean shift was collected and lifted over her head. The gown laid out upon the bed that morning was not one to her taste, possessing murrey and blue silk forming the bodice and voluminous skirts that were to be draped around her.
She'd never worn the colours of York before and to see them displayed before her almost made her nose wrinkle in disgust. Still, it had been commissioned by Duchess Cecily and therefore she was to wear it, to show the House of York was united when welcoming a new member. When crowning it's first Queen.
But England already had a Queen, Catherine thought as Margery gentled the gown over her head, straightening the sleeves before she tied the silken laces. 'I shall bear it for my own good' She decided with a sigh, lifting her arms so a golden girdle could be fastened around her waist and an ivory comb was pulled through her hair, brushing out the flaxen curls until they shone as the sun did. Golden and glistening.
She was to wear her hair down that day, she knew and felt a smile touch her lips when her Duchess' coronet was placed on her head. Since Dickon had first presented it to her the day after her wedding, she had adored it, often taking it out of its golden casket to marvel are the rubies and pearls studding the shining gold. When he wore his coronet too, they looked a true royal pair, a Prince and Princess of the realm, just like they would be that day.
