His Common Queen (Temporary ending)

Chapter 7

So this is it! Another chapter done. They're getting shorter and shorter. I'm starting to freak out because my deadline is a month away and my goal was to have 80 pages and I'm only at 30.... Wish me luck! 

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think! 

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Thirteen nights had passed since Elizabeth had spoken with her mother at the river. Elizabeth and Jacquetta hadn't spoken much since that night; it was obvious there was still tension in the air. This particular afternoon Elizabeth sat on a blanket near a pond on the edge of the town watching her two boys playing in the water. Her mother, father, sisters and brothers were sitting near by talking gaily and enjoying the picnic Elizabeth had helped prepare. A small smile fluttered onto Elizabeth's lips as she watched the boys splash each other.

"You've done a good job raising them, Elizabeth." Jacquetta sat down beside her, also watching the boys.

"Thank you, Mamma." Elizabeth tore her eyes away from Thomas and Richard and looked down at the needlepoint in her hand.

"I think as soon as the battle is over your sisters should be sent to court. Perhaps they could stay with the Vaughns. They really ought to have gone months ago, but with everyone being in an uproar about the battle, I thought to wait."

"That was wise, mother," Elizabeth replied, adding another stitch of blue to complete a small flower in the border.

"I do hope life shall return to the way it was before the war. And then the girls may go to court either in the York court or the Lancaster court. Whichever way it goes, the girls must go to court. Oh how splendid if they could go to your cousin's for their lessons."

"Yes, wonderful indeed, mamma," Elizabeth said, looking up from her needlepoint and smiling at her mother.

"Thomas should also leave home. He is old enough to learn to be a true gentleman, He really ought to be with his kinsmen." Jacquetta had her eyes focused on Thomas who was splashing about in the water. Elizabeth was pushing a needle thought the cloth when Jacquetta said this. The needle went further than before and into Elizabeth's finger.

"No. The boys will stay with me," Elizabeth said with so much force in her voice it made her mother look away from the boys and at Elizabeth. Elizabeth grabbed a rag sitting near her and wrapped the bloodied finger in it.

"Elizabeth, they need a proper education, beyond what you and I are able to teach them. They must be sent away."

"No mamma, I will not change my mind. I wish for them not to leave home."

"Oh why ever not?" Jaquetta asked, raising her voice in exasperation.

"I am afraid to let them go. How will I be able to keep them safe? There is something preventing me from letting them go to be in the midst of strangers."

"That's normal my dear child. It's always hard to release your children. And for you especially. You lost your husband. It's only natural you wish to keep them near. They are the only part of him you have left."

"It's more than that, mamma. It doesn't feel right--" Elizabeth was cut off before she could finish her sentence.

"Do you see harm coming to them should they be released into society?"

"I don't know what it is, mamma. The idea of coming home to a house empty of their happy little laughs and going to bed without giving them a kiss and a bedtime story, it just doesn't feel right, Mamma! I can't let them leave yet." Elizabeth's hands started to quiver and her voice started to falter. Jacquetta pulled Elizabeth close to her and rocked her gently back and forth.

"Shh my child. I will speak to your father. We won't make your boys leave until you are ready to let them go." That was the end of the discussion; the boys would stay with their mother.

The next few days flew by in a daze. Every day Elizabeth's sisters would tease, saying she would soon wither away waiting for the King. She would only laugh politely at their jokes about the King and her. It was evident that her sisters had given up on thinking the King had an interest in her. Her brother, Anthony, was pleased her relations with the King were finished and her father continued to stay oblivious to any sort of relation she had with the King. Despite all the teasing, Elizabeth each night made her way down to the river to carry out her ritual and every night to her dismay nothing grew from the soil. She couldn't help but start to lose hope, and why shouldn't she? Everyone had abandoned hope for her. That included her family, the earth and even the King himself, it seemed. Elizabeth was close to giving up, but something persuaded her to keep going to the river and finally on one especially chilly day in March, Elizabeth saw why. By the edge of the river grew a delicate white rose. The white was a lovely contrast to the dark brown mud of the riverbank. Elizabeth crumpled a handful of her skirts into her hand and rushed back to the house to fetch her mother. When she reached the house she was out of breath from running but she didn't stop to rest. She walked quickly into the main parlor where she knew her mother would be. Sure enough her mother sat in front of a crackling fire with a book in hand.

"Mamma!" Elizabeth panted, "something has finally grown." Her mother looked up and her face broke into a smile. She put the book down and stood up.

"That's wonderful, my dear girl! Well, let's go take a look." They walked at a fast pace arm, in arm giggling like they were young schoolgirls. For the first time in months the sky seemed to relax and the much-needed rain, which the soil and crops needed, fell like tears of joy. When Jacquetta and Elizabeth reached the lone flower they were soaked, but it didn't dampen their moods in the slightest. Jacquetta crouched down to the rose. She cupped it in her hands and a small smile crept onto her gentle face.

"Does it bear good news, Mamma?" Elizabeth asked, standing near her mother.

"Every flower is as unique as every person, Elizabeth. The rose represents a promise of secrets past. A white rose holds promises of marriage, loyalty and innocence. Every Kingdom needs a queen. The white rose takes her place as queen among all other flowers even above all other roses. As you know, my dear, the white rose is the House of Yorks crest, the King's crest. Elizabeth, this rose isn't just a flower. This rose has grown out of you. This rose was created with your blood, your care and your faith."

Elizabeth couldn't take her eyes off the rose. She understood what her mother was telling her, but it still baffled her. Elizabeth was nothing special, she was a woman from an average family with an average life. Elizabeth tore her eyes from the flower to look at her mother. Jacquetta stood there looking at her daughter, fully understanding now how important she would soon become. This was a sign clear as day Elizabeth was to become queen.