~𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖞𝖆𝖑 𝖎𝖘 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌~
Born the youngest daughter of Charles I, Duke of Bourbon, Constance of Bourbon grows up amidst comfort and splendour on her powerful family's estates in France. A shy child, she prefers her...
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~Fallen Roses~
January 1461....
Constance awoke to the sound of hooves falling quickly upon cobble beneath her bedchamber window. It was no gentle return to the world, it was short and sharp (as was the pace of the horses below) like snapping from a trance but she had become used to such a rough ritual.
Since Edward departed London and the death of their beloved son, she'd slept fretfully, awakening at the slightest noise. Each creak she heard, each shriek of an owl or flicker of light from the dying hearth would send her from the warm safety of her covers; emerald eyes searching for her husband's youthful face.
She wished to hold him, for him to hold her, to mourn their boy alongside him instead of alone.
Every time, she was disappointed and would feel her heart sink deep into her stomach. To her it was like following a beacon of hopeful light in the darkness only for it to burn out when she came just a breath away, leaving her to drift into uneasy slumber once more. Even when sleep was achieved it was of little comfort to her because each time she closed her eyes, James' face would be there, Edward's face too.
He would smile, pearly white teeth glinting in the sunlight and flecks of gold shining within the pale blue depths of his adoring eyes, holding their darling son in his arms. When the sun set over England it was both a blessing and a torture.
Not that night, a night that she would remember for the rest of her life.
It would be burned unwillingly into her brain as surely as an iron brand would burn into her skin, melding it's searing memory to the flesh of her soul.
A distant church struck two melodic chimes into the chilling January air when Constance forced herself to sit up upon hearing the whinny returning horses. In the dark, her hands fumbled for her bed robe, curling around the blue velvet and pulling it over her nightgown.
She had almost been tempted to forget it for inside her chest, her heart had begun to pound.
'Edward, Edward, Edward!' her mind cried, almost reeling with releif. He had come back to her, she was sure of it! For two months he'd been away, eight weeks of lonely nights spent wrapped in cold sheets without the warmth of another beside her. Oh, how she missed the comforting strength of his arms around her body!
'No more!' She thought as she padded across the wooden floorboards to the dimly lit door. One, two three, four, five....she counted the beats of her heart, feeling a hopeful thump in her chest with each number. It did little calm her. Nothing could calm her, not with her love so near as she was so sure he was!
Edward, Edward, Edward!
She couldn't take another breath before a piercing scream filled the air, one of pure anguish and despair. It was scratching, clawed from its victim who sounded like she were dying at the hands of the pain thrust into her heart.
