𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 || 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵

𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝐶𝑋𝐼𝐼𝐼

~Choice and Chance~

That evening....

'Meet me in the apple orchard.' The letter under her pillow said - signed with a simple R.

How on God's green earth he'd had time to write and send it she did not know, the council sat for six hours that day, but he was Richard so of course he'd found a way, she thought, catching a smile curving her lips. She couldn't help it.

Rising from the covers, she sidled over to her dressing table and the small wooden box that lay tucked at the back, its dark oak lid, unadorned by carvings, covered in dust. Gentle fingers touched the blanket of light grey and opened it, revealing the golden R pendant nestled inside.

Richard. What an uncertain storm that had been to weather.

She'd never resent him, that was what she'd promised and she'd kept her oath. She couldn't, however, prevent resenting herself.

The deeper her grief drove her into the sharpened arms of pain, the greater the guilt of her transgressions with him grew. It taunted her, tortured her, followed her every waking step and every sleeping thought.

Day by day her regret grew; her astonishment and shame at what she'd done and not only was it that she'd lain with Richard that cast her into such despair but that it had been no quick tryst, no simple grief-driven moment of weakness in an alcove with thoughts only of her beloved.

It had been in his bed, her bed, multiple times. It had been, passionate, wanted and while Edward never truly left her mind, it wasn't he whom she thought of when at the height of her pleasure, not his name she cried out, not his body she clung to and kissed with lust coiling in her belly. Despite that, she also felt she'd used Richard for her own ends, made him the sword with which she held back grief then cast him aside once reinforcements came.

She prayed and prayed, regretted and repented, called for punishment to be brought down upon her, begged for Ned's forgiveness from heaven but nothing, nothing could ease her guilt or absolve her heart. She'd betrayed him. 'No you didn't! Even if you did he repaid it in life a hundred times over!' A voice cried in her head only to be shouted down each time by a dozen others.

She'd promised she'd never resent Richard and she didn't but nor could she bear his presence for a time, an ever present reminder of her sin, of her treason. Each glance stabbed her heart, each word brought tears of shame to her eyes.

So great the pain became that in the autumn of 1486, she'd sent him from court under the guise of attending to business in the north, despite Edward's protests that he wished for his uncle to remain at his side. Richard didn't ask why, he didn't try to sway her, he went with a quiet nod and for over half a year she was without him at her side.

It hurt to think of but she couldn't deny the relief she felt.

Eight months later when he returned to London, the plague of guilt shrouding her had abated somewhat but she still kept her distance, kept their relationship to one of business, an alliance to secure her son. If any noticed the rift between them, they didn't comment on it.