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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~A Seat of Power where we Shall Sit~
November 1472....
Wrapped in a cloak of heavy velvet, with gloves by her side on the satin coverlet, Catherine watched as her final possessions were removed from the bedchamber. Tapestries had been stripped from the walls, the furs stowed away and even the fire had been quenched just moments ago, leaving the room with an ever dwindling warmth pricked with a chill.
Maids came in and out, carrying away gold and silver caskets containing her jewels and coronets that would be placed in locked chests during the long journey to Bamburgh.
Two days prior, she and Margery had observed each and every one, a task that proved long as there were hundreds! She'd selected the ones she wished to keep for the ride North (to attend dinners and such with nobles they stayed with) and wrapped them in pouches of white silk before handing them to her Lady. Margery would keep them safe, she was sure. The rest had been wrapped in silk too but by maids before being carefully packed; stowed away in their guided cages.
Three weeks it would take them (at best) to reach their new home and for the past days, Catherine wondered how her children would fare. While she was sure Joan would do naught but sleep and feed, Henry was a different matter. She remembered how he'd longed for freedom when they were imprisoned in the Tower and his appetite for adventure had only grown since then!
Their days of travel would be monotonous, hours of riding along dusty roads in chilly air with nary a word spoken before the sun set and they halted at a Manor House. There they would stay before repeating the same routine at the next sunrise! No doubt the eager little boy would voice his complaints and Catherine wondered if Richard would let Henry ride with him for a while instead of trapping the four year old in a carriage with baby Joan!
After all, the time was coming where Henry would have a horse of his own and she knew her husband longed for that day. She sighed and brushed the gloves at her side, the golden stitching, outlining the ostrich feathers on black leather, glinting in the sunlight.
What would dear Edward think of her new station as Lady of the North? 'Not as high as being my Queen would raise you, mon coeur' She could almost hear him say and smiled, heart aching with sadness and the slight relief that she could now remember him with fondness; not only tears.
With a sigh, she returned to her task of watching the metal caskets (each containing a fortune) be carried carefully away.
Richard had certainly been generous to her over the years and the number of gowns and jewels she owned certainly attested to that! She had all her heart could desire and was certainly not an individual who lacked elegance or glamour in her dress. No, although it was dangerous to say so, some said she often looked a Queen in her fine silks and headdresses!
