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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~Blood for Blood~
20th of September 1469, the Tower of London....
Two names.
That was what lay inside of Elizabeth's locket. Two names written in blood, the Queen's blood, the blood of Melusina seeped deep in ancient magic. A curse.
She had cursed the lives of Warwick and George, bound them with chains of avid revenge forged in fires of a hatred that would not be broken. 'It shall be for the both of us' Elizabeth had said the morning after the curse was laid, a deep determination to her voice that was so true Catherine could not help but believe it.
The curse that lay in the Queen's locket would serve as her revenge on Warwick too, the long overdue payment for the pain he had inflicted on her mind and heart.
And as for George, well, she could only sigh with despair when she thought of him. She had thought him a friend and now he had proved himself an enemy; allied with Warwick which was a move he would never be able to retract. He had chosen his side and she was determined never to let him back onto her own.
As the sun rose above the horizon in an amber-golden glow, Catherine woke to a gentle murmur beside her. Opening her eyes, she could not help but let a lazy smile cross her lips at the sight of her son. Golden hair fluffed like duckling down from sleep around his head, he stood on study little legs, chubby hands clinging to the side of his carved crib. He had fixed his gaze intently upon her slumbering figure, peering down curiously until the sun shook her from sleep.
Long free of his blankets, which were strewn across the cot, he stomped his tiny feet back and forth, almost jumping upon his feathered mattress while he gurgled. Over the past month, this was a sight Catherine had become accustomed too and relished each moment of the endearing spectacle, watching with glee as he learnt to slowly haul himself onto his own two feet. He could not yet walk but each day he made progress, beaming and giggling while Catherine cooed encouragingly.
"Ma....ma...." One eager little hand reached out, the other still curled around his crib "Mama!"
Catherine's gentle smile grew and her heart swelled with so much love she half feared it would burst through her chest! Just one week prior Henry had spoken his first word, screeched it at the top of his little lungs while he rolled around on his Mother's bed one evening. She'd stared at him with shocked eyes, hardly daring to believe her ears while he merely grinned, clutching at his toes and squealing with delight.
She didn't think she had ever been so happy as she was in that moment! To hear her boy speak, call her his Mother was the greatest blessing God could give and ever since then she kept her ears keen, beaming each time Henry babbled his new word.
