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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~Holly and Thorns~
December 1469, Westminster Palace....
Walking along the corridors of Westminster Palace, skirts in hand, Catherine nodded gracefully to the bowing nobles that past her.
Though the air smelt sweetly of cinnamon, mingling with the pleasant smell the fresh greenery hanging in bows from the walls brought, she was in less than a jubilant mood. The court was cold, not simply because of the winter temperature but because of the layer of invisible ice that had settled over its inhabitants.
There was a sense of unease that ran through the halls, tentative yet tumultuous and stirring like a storm each time the two royal traitors were mentioned.
Edward's loyal faction was fractured, caught between those who wished for peace and those who wished to see Warwick's head displayed on a spike. Catherine, of course, supported the latter with the Queen and gritted her teeth in anger when she again remembered the King still insisted on letting the traitors go free!
God, it infuriated her! If only Elizabeth's curse would work it's dark magic.
Murmuring unhappily to herself, a small frown painted itself her lips when she saw the widowed Countess Rivers lingering by a window, her willowy figure all but a shadow against the bright colours of the court festivities. Swathed in lengths of black silk, her golden hair was bound beneath a netted coif covered by a sheer veil as she stared mournfully through the polished panes of glass, a heavy sigh leaving her chapped lips.
Catherine had grown to feel a tenderness towards the kind Jaquetta and her heart was swayed to pity at the lonely sight she presented. She could not imagine losing a husband and a son as she had done; was almost moved to tears at the thought of losing one of Henry or Richard, let alone the two together! There had been no chance to say goodbye either and that was a pain she well understood; knew like the back of her hand.
The world was indeed cruel when it came to farewells.
"What is it?" She asked softly, placing a hand on the older woman's arm and Jaquetta sighed again, her saddened gaze not breaking from the courtyard below.
"They're coming here for Christmas"
A rustling of cerulean satin skirts from behind alerted them to the presence of the Queen and Catherine quickly found Elizabeth peering over her shoulder; lips pursed, eyes narrowed.
"Damn them all" She hissed, watching the Neville carriage roll into the palace courtyard, led by Warwick and George, each of whom appeared completely at ease.
