~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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~Draw him Close~
5th of September 1484....
Rolling the beads of her rosary between her fingers, Constance paced back and forth at the end of her bed as her ladies packed around her. After nine days of relative respite at Helmsley Castle it was finally decided the king's army would join the men stationed at Sutton Bank. To there they would march and set up camp, survey the land and concoct the best strategy to ensure her son's victory.
At least try to ensure it. Secure it.
Dear Martha was not there. She'd sent her with coin and a kiss back to Middleham for her own safety, clasping her hands tight and telling her when victory was seen, she too would reap the rewards.
Picking up her book of hours which was beside her bed, rosary draped over it and passed into her other hand, the turned it back and forth. It was probably best to take it with her. If nothing else she could stare at the illuminated pages and hope.
"Margaret?" The dark-haired woman appeared at her side "See this safely wrapped for the journey." "Of course, your grace."
"Mother?" She looked up to see Edward entering her bedchamber, Richard close behind, and walked around the bed to greet them, pushing herself onto her toes to place a kiss to his cheek "Ma Mère," He looked around the room, the floor and furniture strewn with gowns and chests "what are you doing?"
"Preparing, of course!" Oh Lord, he hadn't forgotten their departure on the morrow, had he? No, Richard wouldn't allow that! "Would you have me leve without fresh gowns or jewels?"
"I would not have you leave at all!" He quickly replied "Nor did I intend you to! You are to stay here, with the girls." The world about her stilled a moment and she blinked in confusion, looking past Edward to Richard who appeared to be a little too preoccupied with the pointed toes of his shoes.
Her face hardened. "Leave us." She ordered and the servants and her ladies bobbed hurried curtsies before shuffling past the King and his Uncle, Beth and Margaret looking as confused as their mistress. The door shut. She took a step back "What do you mean, Edward?"
"I do not wish to see you hurt, Mother!" He said in earnest, flashing a loving smile "It is my battle to win!"
"And have I not fought it well enough for you this past year and a half? Now you would cut me off and imprison me here like a child or a frightened hen?" Not leave with him and the army? Ha! What a notion. Remain? She would do no such thing! What on earth had put that into his head? "I would protect you, as I failed to do in Burgundy."
