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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~My boy, my King~
May 1483, London....
The two weeks to London were ones of tension and silence, laced with the cheers of the people as the royal party rode through various villages and towns. Edward did his best to smile, his best to wave but a dark shadow hung over his face and he refused to look his Uncle in the eye. His Uncle Richard that was, his Uncle Anthony, along with his half brother, had been sent to Pontefract, under arrest as per the order.
When he'd found out, he'd made quick his exit from his Uncle's chamber and retreated to his own, hiding behind the bed until his Aunt found him. He even refused to look at her for a week.
Then he only muttered quiet questions, quiet requests: where was his Uncle Anthony, could he see him once they reached London? Catherine could only answer one and so had to seek a peace between her and her nephew in quiet evenings spent in inns, tucking him in and telling him 'goodnight'.
It was unclear weather he and Richard would ever reach a peace for while young Edward did not rant and did not rage, she could see the coldness in his eyes that settled like ice when he looked at his Uncle. Any brittle trust between them was broken and it was not one that could be reformed or if it was, it would forever be overshadowed.
That was a worry in itself for if the King did not trust his Uncle, what would happen when he no longer needed him? The thought made her shiver and it didn't take her long to realise that while Richard reigned, it would be up to their children to secure their position in the country. They would have to win the King's trust. They would have to win his friendship.
Henry would certainly follow that duty and since he was older than the young King perhaps he would become an individual whom he looked up to?
But there was no room for that thought as they entered the city of London, the streets now gilded in blue and murrey, the Lions and lilies of England. Cheers filled the air, raising up to the rooftops, to the clouds above that were the purest white, letting sun shine through in hopeful beams, providing light to the procession of black velvet.
The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester rode either side the new King, cries of 'God save King Edward!' ringing in their ears and making the young boy between them smile. He even let the curve of his lips remain when Richard looked at him; nodded. He felt small, amongst the cawing crowds, overwhelmed by the thousands of hands waving at him, the thousands of faces looking to him.
They looked for his Father, for a King they could follow and who would lead them. He knew he wasn't that and yet felt a sense of power within that he knew would blossom with time. How he wished his Father was by his side, how he wished he wasn't yet King. He wasn't ready, no twelve year old was.
"You will be a King as good as your Father one day" A voice said beside him and he turned to see his Aunt smiling down at him from her chestnut stallion, dressed in black and yet still as beautiful as ever. Her sheer ebony veil floated down her back and her jewels glistened in the sunlight, highlighting the golden diamond around her neck, set with a sapphire.
