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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~Lady of the North~
January 1473, Bamburgh Castle....
"Ahh come here my precious boy!" Catherine laughed as Henry ran towards her soaked to the skin with melted snow, his blonde curls darkened, plastered to his head and only dressed in his breeches. He'd been playing in the snow settled over the green and had decided to make snow angels, something that had of course seen him soon drenched!
He threw himself into the towel she'd warmed by the fire snuggling into her while she wrapped it around him, kissing his chubby cheeks.
A few feet away lay a tiny wooden tub (filled with freshly heated water) and Joan on the carpet, being undressed from her swaddling shawls by Margery's gentle hands. At seven months old, she had the strength to sit up and wiggled around, fingers clutching at her toes and her delighted squeals filling the air.
"I shall be with you in a minute, my darling" Catherine cooed, reaching over to stroke the thatch of dark hair on her head while Henry giggled.
"Joaney growing, Mother!" He said, covering his head with the towel to dry his hair and she nodded, pulling him onto her lap. The sound of the door alerted them and Henry squealed at the sight of Richard striding into the bedchamber.
"Hello, my little knight!" He greeted, swinging his son into his arms to kiss him "Ah! And my little Princess Joan too I see!" Joan squealed, rolling around and flailing one little hand around, trying to wave. She'd grown increasingly fond of her Father in the past months and even then she tried to roll off the rug towards him, making him chuckle and put Henry down.
"Thank you, Margery, I will see to my daughter now" He said with a smile, kneeling by the baby's side and letting her clasp one of his fingers. She drew it eagerly towards her mouth and Richard shook his head, laughing as he tapped her on the nose.
"Your graces" Margery said once she rose and glided away, shutting the bedchamber door behind her to leave the little family alone.
Henry walked over and plopped himself by the little tub, watching as Richard leant down and scooped little Joan into his arms. She squirmed slightly, mewling at the uncomfortable feel of his leather jerkin on her soft skin but that discomfort was quickly whisked away when he lowered her into the warm water.
Eyes wide and hands splashing, Joan smiled her toothless grin as Catherine shuffled over, kissing Henry's cheek and pulling him onto her lap again to dry him. Richard helped to keep their daughter upright, one hand supporting her back while the other cupped the warm water and gently poured it over her little body.
