All the World (Hand in Hand Chronicles)

Chapter 14: "I'll come to thee; my love shall ne'er decline"

News of the King's death reaches us the same time Edward's letter regarding it does. That's not great because I get his letter and don't have the context so I spent a sold two minutes thinking that my beloved has lost his mind.
" 'Dearest Gaveston come home to my arms, where I shall rejoice in you once more. Never more shall we parted—'," I read, with genuine concern, "I wouldn't share this for your sake, but does this sound like he's okay? I think he's not, it goes on 'I now hold everything you shall want for nothing the rest of your days all will be well I promise you the world'—,"
"Piers, the king is dead," Aimee says, she's holding the rest of our messages.
"What?" I ask. It's mid July and I assume the heat has gotten to us.
"The king died on campaign—this is official word, well it's from Edward's secretaries," she holds up the letter.
"So it's lifted, my exile has been lifted," I smile, "We're going home."
It's been only two short months of exile. Not that dramatic in the end. We're to go home, at Edward's command.
Edward is king now.
I realized he was the crown prince but the reality of that didn't fully dawn on me. But of course, he's king now. This was bound to happen. His father is dead and he now—rules England. We're safe. I'm his loyal knight nothing more. Have our lives finally been sorted?
Now I'm eager to return. His coronation. Lots of things need to happen I want to help him. And now I'm— all right— lying with the most powerful man in the land. All right. This is going to be interesting but it'll be wonderful. Langley is ours, no more sneaking about.
Aimee and Jean are enthused if cautious. We all know that this means a massive change to our once quiet lives. But Edward now holds the ultimate power. So what have we to fear?
Then of course I start fearing. Is he going to acknowledge me now? What am I? A knight of his chamber? Do I want that? His military aid, something of that nature some small land and titles? Has he even thought that far ahead?
I don't care. I love him. I'm going back to him we'll work everything else out.
We're to reunite at the border of Scotland, which I assume is just where Edward is on campaign. I'm anxious. His letter, while full of professions of his love, had few specifics. Getting out of France takes a couple of weeks, so it's the second week of August when we return. We've been gone since the first week of May. Three months and two weeks, a very short exile, if rather dramatic.
I actually wonder if Edward will be there when we dock and then I remember he's the King of England now. Suddenly our youth seems terribly cut short. He's King of England. We're no longer boys sneaking about in the dark. That first day he took me rowing and splashed me with cold river water seems suddenly so, so far away.
Edward is waiting with a relatively large party, mostly knights but I recognize a few nobles. I'm used to rushing to him, but he's king now. He looks well, gold curls a bit longer, and as ever in fine robes.
I and the others kneel and bow our heads, the moment we disembark. No sooner have I knelt than Edward is tugging me to my feet again, kissing my lips. A typical greeting, even for an old friend, but not necessarily this long. His hands grip my arms so tightly I'm sure he'll rip my tunic.
"I'm home," I smile, putting a hand to his cheek.
"And you shall not leave me again," he says, pressing his face to mine a long moment.
The rest of the day is a blur. We're whisked onto horses and back to the nearest residence. We'll be on our way to London soon, but for now we're just in some house of Edward's. Well. The whole country is his now.
He gives no excuses for conveying me to his room where he systematically starts tugging my clothes off.
"I missed you. I missed you. I need you. Don't leave me again, Perot, swear it," Edward says, kissing me gently now.
"I swear I am yours and I will remain by your side. You know I don't leave you," my life is cheap now but I don't say that. I am well aware my ability to leave him is drastically diminishing. I mean, I suppose I could change my name and simply vanish, selling what jewels he's given me, but I'm not going to. "I will never, ever leave you."
"I'm so happy. I don't think I've ever been this happy," Edward says, kissing me again, "Now I'm king you'll be by my side through everything. My father is dead and I didn't even weep I wrote the letter to you and I wept at the thought of seeing you. That is what he deserves god how I hate him for taking you from me."
"I am not lost, I'm forever yours," I say, sliding my hand to the back of his head. The wound his father dealt is by now healed, though no hair is growing over the scar. The rest of his curls cover it. I move his hair back and kiss his neck then scar, "You know I'd have killed him if you asked it. I'll probably do anything you ask of me it's really awful for us both."
"No, no, you're not to be rash, we've no need to be, just stay with me. I don't even mind if you joust," Edward laughs.
"Good because I still love jousting. Jousting and you but not in that order," I say.
"Better not be," he kisses my neck.
And once again I spend the night in his arms. Back where I belong. We're familiar lovers now, and despite our relatively brief absence we want each other desperately. I'm almost guilty in how relieved I am to once again fall asleep my face on his sweaty chest. The world doesn't matter now, or at least it can wait. He's king, we have each other, and we need nothing more.
In retrospect it's very nice I spend the night like that just kissing and not talking properly. Because Edward "We've no need to be rash" the Second of Bloody England, has a few things he needs to tell me that make me much less likely to want to let him make love to me.
"What?"
We're standing in his office back in London. Edward is pretending he's been a rational person while I've been gone, specifically in the last three weeks he's held the crown. He has not.
"You're the Earl of Cornwall. I'm giving you the Duchy don't you see? You'll be able to be in Parliament with me. It's your land now, all yours you'll never leave England again," he says, earnestly, holding out a role with the royal seal on it.
"Cornwall—isn't that large or something?" I've heard it I'm not good at this and I'm realizing I'm about to be.
"Yes," he laughs.
"Didn't it—belong to someone? How did it— not belong to someone?" I ask, gesturing at the roll generally.
"Me, idiot," he laughs, "It was mine I'm the king so it's mine to give to you from my inheritance, simple."
"Oh," I say, relaxing a little. Then it is his to give. "All right."
"This is how things are done. We choose our followers to bestow titles and lands upon, we kings. I choose you," he says, smiling.
"Thank you—I mean, I meant to say that, I did," I say.
He laughs, "It's so good to have you home."
"All right, do I have to—stupid question of course I have to do something with this," I say.
"I'll send you people. You've also houses in London near me, I've lists of your properties."
"Plural, all right," I say, breathing shallowly.
"Oh and I'm arranging your marriage to my niece."
"Come—come again? What niece why am I getting married?" I ask. I suppose I figured I'd marry someday but I didn't think of it.
"So you're family. If you're married to my niece you're a member of the royal family, no debate about it," he says.
The process of giving me a pedigree. Of making me belong in his world. It only makes sense, a marriage like that secures me, and my sister and household. Should something befall him I'm landed and married they can't remove me. I'm safe. Am I safe?
"Which niece?" I ask.
"Margret."
"That means nothing to me right now," I say, hands still in my hair.
"Maggie, the little one, she's thirteen it's political, calm down," Edward says, shaking my shoulders. He rubs the back of my neck, "Relax. We're fine now, this is fine. You're home to stay."
I do not relax on command.
I've gone from a poor knight living in servants quarters to one of the richer men in England, marrying the granddaughter of a king. It's not ill news but it's a lot to reconcile with normalcy in my mind.
Edward has of course arranged a full household for me, and Aimee who remains with me. We're both outfitted with staff and servants, which includes Alice. Tentatively, Aimee and Alice and some others will wait upon little Maggie when she joins my household. By wait on, that means mostly follow around and chat to, as I understand the job description. So what I did for Edward, minus being his lover though sometimes that is an option as well.
I'm reeling. And a little concerned. I don't know how to be an Earl. I don't know how to run a house or staff. Barely, I've had perhaps a few servants, the most four at a time. I certainly don't know what I'd do in Parliament. I've seen Edward do some of it but that's different from doing it.
The girls only know they've been whisked here, they don't know of my new title, or anything of that kind. I assume they've been told of my pending marriage, but I don't really know.
I meet Aimee and Alice, who have already reunited, in an upper parlor. There's wine, so that's my main concern, not that I'm coherent enough to drink it.
I drop onto a sofa, covering my face with my hands.
"Rough day—?" Aimee asks, with more sympathy than I expected, "How's the king?"
"Yes let's chat a minute before you get drunk," Alice says, as I down a cup of wine then go back to putting my face in my hands.
"I have had a very weird day and before we begin a conversation you need to be aware I cannot now process any more new information," I say, face in my hands.
"That's too bad," Aimee says.
"I'm pregnant," Alice says.
"What the fuck did I just say?" I breath, hands still over my face.
"He's fine," Aimee says.
"Perot, stop breathing like that it's fine," Alice says, coming over to pat my back while I work on breathing, "I was going to write to you but then you were coming home."
"All right," I breath. I'm going to be a father. Does Edward know? The child's born out of wedlock. I look up at Aimee, "You knew?"
"I told her today, it's fine," Alice says, rubbing my back.
"Why are you comforting me—? What do you mean it's fine are you fine?" I ask, finally turning to her. She was always thick so I suppose the pregnancy would be early enough not to be noticed.
"I'm perfectly well, look, it's better for my reputation anyway, and yours," she says.
"Does anyone else know?" I ask. Does Edward know? Not that he didn't know I was lying with her but this is a bit different.
"No, you can only just tell," she says, putting her hand to her belly.
"We're fine, be nice to have a baby about," Aimee says, coming over to sit on my other side.
"How long have you known? Why didn't you tell me it's not like I'm not good for it—whatever," up till recently I would have just married her. Well. I technically still can.
"Well, I suspected right after you left, I was ill. I was waiting to write till it was sure but then you were coming back," Alice says, shrugging.
"I'm sorry," I say, sliding an arm around her shoulders. I feel a flash of guilt. She's been alone for three odd months with me in exile, and my first worry was telling Edward. "Do you want me to marry you?"
"No. No offense, I don't want to marry you," Alice laughs.
"Good, none taken because I think I'm engaged," I say.
"What?" Both of them.
"I'm also the Earl of Cornwall."
"What?"
"I did say I didn't want new information," I say, putting an arm around Aimee too. They both lean against me. I sigh, deeply. We're all right. This is all right. I'm somebody's father now. Or will be soon. I don't know how that's counted entirely. I'm counting it. Well I can provide for the child, once I find out how to provide for myself.
"Who are you marrying or is that a sensitive question?" Aimee asks.
"You did just offer to marry me," Alice says.
"Well yes you're having my baby," I say, "Also I don't know fully it's one of Edward's nieces. In theory you two get to mind her because she's like ten or something equally tiny."
"Is this really how rich folk live?" Aimee muses.
"Yeah," Alice says.
"Yeah which includes us now, apparently. I'm no longer poor," I say.
That's an understatement. I do have to tell Edward about the child, though. That gives me some level of anxiety. I've only just gotten back. We've barely seen each other since I got back and now I have to tell him this? It's a little sensitive to say the least. And worse, I'm a bit pleased? In this world where everything's being given to me, the child feels genuinely mine. Because I and somebody I'm friends with were stupid. It feels clinically real and I'm not opposed to it. My family, which was once just me and my sister, is growing. I'm no longer so alone. Of course Edward is always there but the world wants to rip him from me. I take selfish comfort in that there are some people they can't part me from.
But I have to tell him. And I'll have to respond appropriately if he's not pleased which would be fair all things considered.
I expect it to be hard to see him but apparently I've been given the right to walk in whenever. I get up at dawn, Edward does not. So I've paced ten times and eaten and I get to his chambers when he's still dressing and leisurely walking around dogs to gaze out the windows.
"I need to talk to you," I say, standing relatively close to the door.
"What is it?" Edward asks, examining one of the greyhounds which is sitting on his foot.
"Alice is pregnant," I say, tapping my hand into my palm, "She's—it's mine obviously."
"I know about five people have told me—? Oh, you did not know," he realizes when I stare at him with something close to rage.
"You did—?" I ask.
"I assumed she'd told you. Again about five people told me," he shrugs.
"You don't care?"
"You came home to me didn't you?" He asks.
"Yes of course that's not what it is. It's just—whatever," I say.
"Fine. Did you think I'd be cross?" He asks, coming over.
I did.
"Don't discredit me so," he says, kissing me quickly, "We both must marry. We both must have children. Well I must. You are apparently. That's not what this is."
"No, we're real," I say. But the child is real too. "I'm taking care of her, and the child, it's having my name and not—," feeling second rate and being sold away as a ransom deal to some foreign prince. Not that that hasn't worked but I'm aware how unlikely this was to work out.
And it has worked out.
We're really and truly free. Edward is king, he teaches me to manage my properties and I actually start comprehending half of the duties he's given me. I'm back in England, and more on top than ever. More clothes than I know what to do with, each finer than the next.
But I'm not simply one of the earls. The term 'Royal consort' is thrown around in certain circles up to and including my own household. I'm barely in my own household.
The separation caused Edward to react, not unlike a nervous dog. It's a crude analogy but there it is. He'll hardly be parted from me. I'm in every single one of his meetings. Before them he'll ask me what I think of what they're presenting. And half the time I don't even know. I'm new to most of what they're talking about and I'm only one of the Earls.
Yet by the time my wedding is approaching, It's obvious that I'm more than that.
Royal favorite.
Royal consort.
Second king.
Rumors run fast. Tempers run high. Hate runs high. My only defense is unfortunately to do nothing at all. I'm by the king's side they can't touch me. He chose me, and he continues to choose me. If he asks my opinion I give it. They can't remove me I'm a landholder just like them.
But they can hate me.
The only loyal allies I keep are Richmond, and Despenser but he's not an Earl. Richmond, to be clear, does not approve of my station or Edward treating me like his bride, but unlike the others Richmond simply blames Edward, not me. He also doesn't blame him cruelly he just thinks it's an idiotic move.
"This isn't chess," I hiss to Richmond.
"Oh I assure you it is," he says.
"Well what can I do?"
"I don't know, talk to him? You see him every hour of the day."
There's no talking to him. And say what? Quit spending time with me. Quit looking to me before anyone else. Quit doing every single thing that's causing everything to be worse.
I can't. Because deeply I know it's too late. They've hated me for years. Now the whole country hates me.
Deeply I have a foul temper. I care very little for anyones' opinion but Edward, which isn't helping things I realize. If nobody's going to have a kind word for me, then why should I speak with them? I'm here for Edward. He wants me here. He's the bloody King of England now.
And does he want them all to know it.
I comfort myself with the idea that his behavior wouldn't be so obvious if I hadn't been exiled and the reason hadn't been so clear. But by that incident, everyone knows. I proclaimed my love for him to the Earls. That's not worse I'm sure than what the old King said behind closed doors.
And by November every person in England knows my name. And hates me. Or that's how it feels. I've been self confident all my life but even this is wearing me down. The endless jibes. The endless comments. I'm the king of England's lover. And I know by now word has surely reached my former family members. I'm a hated man. And ironically enough all for love.
I'd like to say I responded appropriately.
"So now you'll be wed to two members of the royal family," Warwick sneers.
"Does anyone hear a dog barking?" I ask, looking confused.
I'm not saying I'm mature or even proper. But by god they give me grief. It's not as though they were going to like me if I was simpering and groveling. And I've got nothing to apologize for. But sometimes I do wish it would stop. It's a good thing I go places with Edward constantly if I weren't I'd probably be in a duel every day of the week.
My own inner circle is my usual family, Aimee, Alice, and Jean, and then a few trusted servants. Most of my staff are fine because Edward picked them and everyone in England who aren't his Parliament love Edward. I don't think by extension me but the staff's all right.
None of this affects Edward at all. He'll kiss my lips in public. Take my arm. Once he leans on my shoulder as we stand looking at the Thames. And I thought I had no shame. It's obvious I'm in his quarters more than not. In fact it's rare that I'm in my own.
Obsession is the word floated around.
"I mean yes he is being, obsessive, but it's bound to slack off," I sigh, lying on a rug before the fire, "I'll be married. He'll be married. Life has to go on it's all novelty isn't it?"
"We can only hope," Aimee, the one who said obsession, says, handing me wine.
"It isn't though," Alice says, leaning on Aimee, "What I don't get is why they hate you?"
"Oh I've bewitched him with all my wit and charm I don't use on Parliament, I don't know," I sigh.
"What does Edward say?" Aimee asks.
"He doesn't care. He's ridiculously stubborn, you know him. If he wants something he'll have it, he's the king he gets what he likes what he likes is me. He's been drunk on that power since he was an infant we'll not sober him of it now. Or convince him otherwise," I say, sitting up a little to sip the wine.
"All right, let's not despair, you're getting married and having a baby it's bound to calm down a little," Alice says, hand on her belly. She's finally properly showing, at something like seven months gone. Normally being illegitimate conception, we'd be hiding her away. I'm about one barrel of wine short of walking down the street with her on my arm.
"How are you feeling?" I ask. I've not been over in something like a week. I also no longer know how time is passing.
"Fine. Little beggar started kicking when it heard your voice," she says, moving my hand to her taught belly.
"Hm, wants papa to take it jousting," I say, tapping my fingers against her swollen gut. Sure enough I feel the smallest thumps against my palm. I smile.
"If it's a boy," Aimee says.
"We'll get you a little tiny stick, your uncle the king has dogs," I address her belly.
"If it's a boy, Piers," Alice says.
"I don't know why you think a daughter of mine won't want to go jousting. Really all this one has going for it is you carrying it for nine months of not liking jousting because my blood is very thick and very stupid," I say, lying back down contentedly.
"What are we calling it if it's a boy?" Alice asks.
"Oh definitely Piers Gaveston politically I need EVERYONE to know I sired a kid," I say, "You can call it whatever, I'm probably going to call it Mouse I had a dream about that."
"You don't dream only of jousting?" Aimee asks.
"I had a dream calling it Mouse," I say. The dream was of me taking a child jousting.
"Oh my god the dream was about jousting wasn't it?" Alice realizes.
"Yes it was, tell that to England, Piers Gaveston dreams not of his king, but of beating their asses at jousting, the non-sordid thing," I say, "I'm having a joust in the spring. Last week it occurred to me I can hold and participate in my own jousts now so now you know what I'm doing with my fortune."
"I was surprised you hadn't already done that," Aimee says.
"Too busy being mean to all of Parliament. Don't you know I bully them with my endless good looks," I say, rolling my eyes.
We have to laugh or we'll go mad with it. I'm sure not a man in England would shed a tear if I were struck by lightening tomorrow. Well, other than Edward. The women I'm sure wouldn't much care either. To that end I'm concerned about my wedding. I've met his nieces before at holidays yes but a lot has happened since then and there's a difference between meeting some fellow who's friends with your uncle, and marrying him. I mention this to Edward.
"I arranged it. They have no choice," he says.
So that does not help at all.
"Maggie likes you. I told her it was happening she said she likes you," he says, when I continue to stare at him.
So that helps a little.
Maggie de Clare. Margret de Clare but she's not called that. A tiny girl, with bouncing brown curls, and big blue eyes. She wears a fine dress I wear something Edward picked out for me. Plenty of people are in attendance, but it's clear why this is happening. This isn't even a political match it is security.
"Hi," Maggie whispers to me, as soon as we're to the front of the church.
"Hi," I whisper back.
"I'm glad you're home," she smiles nicely then.
"Me too, no one else is though," I say, plenty of enemies are in attendance.
"I am," she smiles sweetly.
She's to come and live with me, despite her young age. Naturally the marriage is not consummated, nor will it be till she's sixteen or seventeen. However she's coming to live with me because she'd be under Edward's protection anyway, so he might as well pass her over to mine. I find out after, perhaps, two minutes of having her in my residence, she was happy about this arrangement because somehow she knew that I have the mentality of a thirteen year old and no actual ability to discipline her.
"I don't want to have a nurse anymore. And I want a sword," she says, folding her arms. I'm lying on the sofa drinking wine and trying to pretend I'm jousting or something equally relaxing.
"Sure that sounds reasonable," I say, not moving.
"Oh my god I'm having a child with you," Alice breaths.
Edward is kind enough to inquire about his niece's welfare. I'm usually with him, so he asks Aimee the next time we all have supper.
"How are things in your household now with Maggie there?" Edward asks, "Are you all right minding everything?" She's in charge of the household primarily now as I'm spending most of my energy on understanding how to be an Earl.
"Yes, it's fine. It's just like having two thirteen year olds, just one has the ability to commission dangerous weapons," Aimee says.
She's not wrong so I don't deny it. And Maggie turns out to be an agreeable companion. She likes coming to parties and dinners and things. And it turns out she's more interesting conversation than the people at them. Suddenly I have an ally.
"Lancaster's been glaring at us for a half an hour," Maggie whispers.
"I think that's just how his face is. Try waving," I say, waving.
She waves as well.
"See, that's glaring, it got worse," I say.
"Hm it did yeah," she says.
I smile at Lancaster and nod.
"See? Even worse," I say.
"Why do they all like staring at you when they hate you?" She asks.
"I've found they like hating me," I say.
Maggie isn't scandalized by the idea of her step-child either. In fact, she's quite happy that there will be a baby for her to play with. She eventually asks me about it.
"Why are you having a baby with Alice when you're always with my uncle the king?" She asks.
"Sometimes you just have —babies—with friends. We're friends neither of us mind a child," I say, because I don't know why I'm explaining casual sex to the thirteen year old.
"Do you want to have babies with me when I come of age?" She asks, twisting her fingers.
"I don't know, probably not I don't need another child," I say, "Let's wait till you come of age. You may want to take a lover."
"Doubt it," she wrinkles her nose.
"Your face is going to freeze like that," I say, poking her nose. She laughs. "No seriously, whatever. If you want children someday you'll have them. Let's have this baby first as a family all right?"
She nods.
"Friends?" I ask, holding up a hand.
"I'm glad I'm married to you," she says, hugging me rather than slapping my hand.
"I'm glad I married you," I say, hugging her tentatively.
Eventually Aimee finds out Maggie was scared of some of the men in the household. Apparently all the girls would hide from them. I don't get the names of who, possibly because I bring up duels in what were civil conversations. That's why little Maggie wanted a sword to hide under her bed. My household is mostly women, and she's now fond of me and the girls. Her mother died earlier in the year, her mother was remarried her father died when she was tiny. Her father was also a grown man when he married her mother. I'm no longer surprised at the little girl's hesitance to accept me. Or perhaps relief that her uncle is my lover and I've no interest in her. I console myself in that as odd as we are at least she's in a safe home now.
Even if I'm not.
I'm not naive enough to believe that this is all going to go well. the hate for me is growing vitriolic. Edward insists it's a phase.
"My father had nobles dislike him. I'm king they cannot touch us," he kisses my cheek as we lie in his bed, "I get to love you. That's all I ask the rest is the country. I'll marry and be crowned. And all will be well."
I want to believe it too. I've realized by now my manner doesn't help. I've no politics in me nor tact. But I don't know how to change in time. And nothing I do seems to make it better. I say little and they say I'm arrogant and don't look at them. I finally speak up and answer a jibe then it's irrelevant that it's the tenth one I've heard today I'm being irritable. And I'm disastrously human.
Edward's wedding to the French princess is finally arranged. I'm to stay behind he's to go. At this point, I'm not even surprised he tells me I'm regent. It's not as though we have anyone else to trust. And picking one friendly earl like Lincoln, or Richmond who isn't even in the country, would slight the others. It might as well be me. Besides which fact, against my own will, I actually mostly understand what Edward is doing and what goes into running a country I witness all of it anyway.
All that means he is to leave though, if only for a few weeks for the wedding, then he'll come back with her and some of the french nobles.
And I'm here. On a political note I'm in hell. On a personal note, Alice is now heavily pregnant and my first child is due in a matter of weeks. I'm cautiously excited, but the real world weighs far too heavy. For one thing childbirth is dangerous. For another this world is dangerous to me.
I hire midwives and doctors and simply pay them to stay. At this point I'm tremendously paranoid of sabotage. I don't put it past my detractors to prevent someone from coming to my residence, endangering Alice and the child. I very nearly send them to the country, but I'm too selfish to do that. I have to be here for the foreseeable future and I want to be there for the child's birth.
Alice for her part is completely fine. Pregnant, but fine.
"I feel good actually, just heavy," she tells me.
"Feels like it's been forever," I say.
She stares at me.
"Yes I realize it's been longer for you," I say, laying a hand her belly. She's getting huge, which means the child is due soon. Worse we don't know when we conceived. We lay together last spring a spare few times. We counted three, and assumed it was the final time because she didn't discover the pregnancy till I was gone. Now she looks nearly full term and it isn't yet new year. Which would mean we were off we conceived the first night we lay together and because she was plump to begin with the pregnancy was just unnoticed longer. Because we're idiots.
"We are doing good, this baby is strong," Alice says, petting my hair. I know she's trying to make me feel better but I'll take it. I'm getting ridiculously attached to the child as well. As my world with Edward spins more and more out of control, my family is comfortingly grounding. I'm an Earl now. And I'm going to be a father. Neither one seems real. But I'm beginning to like both.
Edward gets nervous as the wedding approaches.
"The marriage isn't consummated till she's of age, seventeen," he says, one night as we lie in his room. Well, I'm lying, he's pacing and tripping over dogs.
"I know," I say, "This is good. They'll love you."
"They will. Then we'll have the coronation, you just have to put things into motion when I'm gone, it's all written down," he assures me.
"I can do it," I say, "Look at me. We've done it. You're king. You're getting married. I'm married. In twenty years we'll be getting fat, and hunting at Langley, and telling your children about the time I lost an entire tournament to get your attention."
"Yes," he says, pausing pacing, "You're sure you'll be well here?"
"I'm grand. I've got Richmond and Despenser, and Lincoln if I have a question. And it's a couple of weeks. It's not the same as before. They can't part us," I say, "Come to bed, let me hold you."
"Why have you never asked me what my father said?" He asks, putting a hand to the pulled out patch of hair on the back of his head. It's never healed.
"I don't care what he says about you," I say, "You can tell me if you wish, but I don't need to hear to guess your pain."
"What would your father have said if he knew?" He asks, coming to sit on the side of the bed.
"I don't know," I say. My father died when I was seventeen or so. I realize Edward doesn't think that I have brothers that no longer write to me. That they all know. That it's easier to list the people who do not hate me. "I don't care."
"How?" He asks, quietly, "How do you always not care what they say?"
"Their opinion doesn't matter. It's wearing—sometimes. But I wouldn't trade you for anything," I say, taking his hand, "Not all the good opinion in the world, all right?"
"Thank you," he says, softly.
"I told you when we first met. I like being me. I like who I am that's still true, nobody else has to," I say.
"I do," he smiles gently.
"Good, I'm fond of you as well," I say, kissing him, "We've made it. You are my king. They can say what they like. They cannot break us."
They do try.
Edward sails at the end of December. I'm left as regent.
Of all of England.
Me. A poor knight from Gascony. To be fair my family had some land and money. But now I'm just, in charge of the royal seal. Sitting in Windsor bloody palace. Edward has signed every power he can think of over to me.
So, like a sane person, I am going to do nothing in the next three weeks. I am going to exist and do nothing till Edward gets back. I do not do things. I watch things. I tell people to come back when the king is here. That is not me. We are all very lucky I can read french and understand two words in Latin. Those words are profane.
I have a very pregnant Alice at home, I have Aimee who thank god not giving up on me, and I have the thirteen year old child I'm married to. That thirteen year old feels the need to tell me when she 'becomes a woman' and bleeds for the first time. I am having a couple of crises about that namely that I'm now accidentally raising the thirteen year old as a parent, and I'm now going to be responsible for an infant.
"I thought you'd want to know I'm a woman," Maggie says, twisting her hands, "So I can have babies."
"This is my concern for whether or not you can bear children," I say, holding my hands pressing together, "All right? Nobody's bedding you. Unless you want them to. Later. Much later. Talk with my sister about this."
She nods, tears in her eyes, "Will you change your mind?"
"No. No I won't," I say, gently.
I wonder what happened to her or what she was told. I warn Aimee who shrugs like she knows more but won't say. Alice now also feels maternally towards Maggie and volunteers to talk to her. Alice is technically in her confinement soon, but she attests she feels fine, just huge, and she still wants to walk around and see the dogs.
"I'll be bored I'm sure it's not quite time yet," Alice says, even though she's swollen out of all normal dresses.
"Well you would know," I decide, "Just call a midwife if you're in pain all right? I'm already paying them to drink my wine."
So my personal life is oddly domestic. Edward's words nearly haunt me. What would either of my parents think of my current life? I don't want to know. They wouldn't understand. And if they don't understand they don't deserve to know. And so my circle is closing rapidly. Almost no one cares to understand.
I mind affairs of state by delaying them. I've decided it's a good idea and stick with it for my entire tenure. At one point some people show up asking me to do something.
"No, what do you take me for? No. That's a no. I don't do things. The king will be back in three weeks," I say.
"What good are you then? I thought you had full power," one of the people trying to get me to do things, snarls.
"Yes aren't you England's second king? Why are you here?" Another one asks.
"Emergencies, bitch. I have power for Emergencies the King is back in a week now you can readdress this with him then I will tell him you called," I say.
That doesn't make them happy but I wasn't trying to. I have to arrange a coronation. According to Edward's orders. The coronation won't take place until he's back, the 18th of February. But costumes have to be ordered, and all manner of things arranged including a banquet. Because my experience as a tournament champion prepared me for this, I do write to his sisters for some aid.
Elizabeth and Mary both take pity on me. It is pity they're surprised I can read. As in they are proud when they discover I can read and write french. Apparently I don't present very clever. They write back with advice and Mary comes to stay and help me read through things. She's a nun and usually about, she's more than happy to order her brother's scribes about and have them decipher their own writing for me.
It's Christmas, but Edward is overseas and I'm hardly holding a banquet. His family is coming up to meet us in York to receive Edward and his party. So I have the holiday feast with my own growing family. Maggie's not had a holiday away from her siblings so we are intentionally cheerful, playing cards and dice until midnight and finally getting her to laugh with stories of past jousts (that's me) or our own childhoods.
And in the second week of January, my daughter is born.