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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~King's Curse~
May 1466, Westminster Palace....
"It's insane!" George cried as Richard dressed behind the brocade screen by the fire, listening to his brother pace angrily back and forth "To give her sister to one of the highest nobles in the land? Ha! It's nothing less than treason!"
"It's not treason, George" Richard retorted, pulling on his doublet of cloth of gold and letting his squire attend to the laces "She is the Queen!" "She wasn't until Ned decided his cock couldn't do without her!" "But still, she is Queen, George"
"Her yokel sister is not!" He snapped "Why should Henry Stafford, the Duke of Buckingham be made to marry the daughter of a country squire? That's like you being married to another of the Woodville girls!"
"But I'm not!" Richard drawled, George's annoyance making him grin a little behind the screen. The older boy scoffed. "No" He muttered dully "You're married to Cat like the lucky git you are. She may be Lancastrian but at least she is noble!"
"She is not Lancastrian!" Richard protested and George's mocking laughter rang out as he poured himself yet another goblet of wine. His fourth that morning.
"Oh? Then what is she?" "I don't know" His brother grumbled, letting his squire lift his chain of office over his head before he waved him away "She's not for York but I don't know"
George tutted to himself, taking a sip of wine while Richard emerged from behind the dressing screen, admiring himself in the long mirror on the wall.
"It suits you well, little brother" The younger of the pair raised his eyebrows in thanks, putting his hands on his shoulders and pressing down as if to flatten them "What are you doing?" "Making sure my doublet is straight" "Really?" "Oh shut up, George!"
"What has dear George done now?" Catherine's merry voice asked as she walked through the doors of her husband's chambers. She wore a gown of light blue brocade, the small heels of her shoes tapping upon the stone floor.
The neckline was fashionably low, allowing room for the diamond necklace she wore over the golden chain that kept Prince Edward's ring safe beneath her bodice; filled by her growing breasts. Her golden hair was pulled back into an intricate braid, woven with silk ribbons that framed the pearl earrings she wore. It was easy to see that she looked older than her thirteen years, fifteen or sixteen at least, George thought, and smirked at the way his little brother blushed at the enchanting sight.
"I shall see you at the chapel" He said, raising from his seat to kiss Catherine's hand before he strolled easily from the room, whistling smugly to himself. The young Duchess chuckled when he'd gone, sidling up to her husband who appeared frozen where he stood.
