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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~France~
May 1475, Westminster Palace....
"So gather your weapons and muster your men! We will take France!"
On the royal dais, three men stood, hands on their swords, coronets on their heads. They looked out into the crowd of courtiers with confidence in themselves and their words which were spoken by the King captured in a fervour he could only match when he was in his cups.
Or at least that was what Catherine thought as she watched them beside the Queen. Elizabeth sighed but the quiet noise was drowned out by the roaring cheer that went up at her husband's words. That was how she and Catherine's pleas for peace to each of their Lords had gone too, drowned out by the call of adventure and honour.
Edward grinned around like a child who could see his favourite sweet and his brothers beside him were much the same. Only Richard's sweet was honour and George's was power, the regency of France he so desired and his sisters in law dreaded he would hold.
"Another war" Catherine muttered glumly "When only two years ago we saw the end of another"
"Three sons of York!" George announced, placing his arms around his brothers with a grin on his face "And none shall divide us!" "More likely he shall divide us" Elizabeth hissed as her brother walked over to her and the Duchess, newly returned from Wales at her request "He already has, by separating us from our Lord husbands in spirit!"
"Which is exactly what he wants" Anthony remarked, pouring himself some wine from the nearby table "For a house divided against itself cannot stand and he will turn us against one another, even though he is a brick in our very walls" Catherine grimaced, watching she and Elizabeth's children play around the hall, unaware of the politics surrounding them; the danger.
The three sons of York dispersed, Edward settling on his throne while George vanished like a ghost. No doubt to plot, Catherine seethed, taking up her own goblet of wine and relishing the short sip she took. Elizabeth picked up her silver skirts and glided through the crowds to her husband, brother in tow with a grimness to his face they both shared.
"Are you well, my love?" Richard asked as he appeared at her side, hand in hand with little Princess Elizabeth. She curtsied prettily and her Aunt did the same, doing her best to smile. "Ah, Lizzie! You have grown, my dear! Nine years old already! Are you well?"
"I am!" The Princess replied, gazing up her her Uncle with glistening awe in her eyes "Uncle Dickon has been explaining the war to me! He says we shall regain what we lost under King Henry and beyond!" "Does he?" Catherine replied "Why don't you see to your Father, Liz? I'm sure he would be able to tell you more!" Elizabeth nodded enthusiastically and (after a second pretty curtsy) skipped away to find the King, who now sat alone.
