~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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~Queen Militant~
August 1469, London....
It was a strange thing to ride alongside her brother again but stranger still to travel with Anthony Woodville! Well, to tell the truth she hardly saw him. He came to her, as Edward had said, but instead of being met by the Queen, he received a frosty reception from James who wasted no time in ordering him to travel at the back of Constance's entourage.
That was where he went and that was where he stayed, out of her sight as much as possible!
She was pleased by that but if she were ever forced to be in the company of any Woodville, she would choose Anthony. Apart from the blood he shared with his grasping kin, she had no personal quarrel with the blonde man. An enigma amongst his kin, he was always respectful of her station, calling her 'your grace' and bowing low wherever she appeared.
He never gave cause for offence but he was still a Woodville and that was all James saw, earning Anthony a stern glare every time he even dared look in the Queen's direction!
"Is there any way to send him back?" He'd asked one day, making Marie giggle from where she rode in front of him (the two having quickly bonded) and Constance smiled.
"Unfortunately not" She admitted "Besides, I have no time for Woodvilles, brother, I only have time for my Lord husband's return"
༻᯽༺
"Oh my dear!" Cecily cried when her daughter in law and James walked through the door to her chambers, completely ignoring Anthony who stood uneasily behind, rather unsure of what to do "You are here! You escaped!"
"There was nothing to escape from, Mother!" Constance said, enjoying the crushing embrace the older woman held her to before pulling away "This is James of Bourbon, my little brother, although as you can see, he does not live up to that title!" Cecily gave a kind nod but her mind was elsewhere.
"And where is my granddaughter? Where is Marie?" "I'm here Grandmère!" Marie called, running away from Anne and into her Grandmother's arms where she was whisked from the floor with surprising ease by Cecily. The Duchess placed one hand to her hair, stroking the long brown curls and kissing the little girl's cheek before welcoming her own daughters and niece into her embrace as they entered.
"I am glad Margaret is not here to witness this" She murmured "George was always her favourite...."
"He can be no one's favourite now!" Beth protested bitterly, ordering a servant to stoke the fire before she sat "he has betrayed us! He has betrayed us all and so has Warwick!" The sound of shoes running along the hall made them turn to see an out of breath Isabella rushing towards them, one hand on the bodice of her gown as she tried to steady her racing heart.
