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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~George, the Devil's Hand~
January 1474, Sheen Palace....
The chamber smelt heavily of wine, smoke and sweat that covered the bodies wound together, laughing on the floor. Blankets were strewn around them, fallen in a heap from the King's bed long ago and candles guttered, almost extinguished from how long their flames had licked at the melting wax. It almost appeared like a fine brothel.
Drunken laughs echoed, followed by soft moans and pants, the trickle of alcohol into silver goblets. Edward was at the centre of it all surrounded by four women who all smiled adoringly at his tousled hair and almost boyish expression made bright with lust.
They had played a game, a game of chance and debauchery where if a member lost what they had betted they had to remove an item of clothing. It was a bawdy activity of Edwards division of course but had rather proved successful, for him at least.
He was down to his shirt and breeches and the woman beneath him down to only her shift as he used one hand to slide a crimson stocking from her leg. Another sat still in her kirtle with her breasts on display and another completely nude, laying on her front with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Jane was the only one still mostly clothed and lounged on the King's bed as she watched the scene before her, gown partially unlaced with the sleeves hanging off her slender shoulders, revealing pale skin dotted with freckles. Richard shook his head from where he and Catherine sat by the fire, averting his eyes with a disgusted grimace. How could his brother dishonour the Queen so? In public, with his brothers, Catherine and Lord Stanley watching?
He grimaced again, trying to swallow the bile that rose in his throat. "Ma belle" He murmured "you needn't be privy to such unbridled behaviour"
"Ah, Dickon, is that your prudish voice I hear?" Edward called between hearty gulps of Burgundian wine he shared with the woman beneath him and Richard gritted his teeth; took his wife's hand. "Call me a prude if you wish brother but I imagine some would call you far worse because unlike you I've never been with a whore"
"Are you so sure?"
All sober eyes in the room shot to George who was lingering in one corner like a shadow, a greyhound in his lap and eyes lit by the candles beside him. They had a dangerous glint to them, one that coaxed, that dared his brother to challenge his words and challenge them Richard did.
"George I swear to all the saints if you are saying what I think you are then...." George merely laughed, smirking when his little brother rose from the chaise by the fire with his fists clenched in rage. "Peace, little brother! I meant nothing by it" He replied "Catherine is a paragon of virtue as I have known since we were children....when we were friends"
