The Forgotten Rose {COMPLETED}

Part I: Chapter Fifteen - A Royal Ally

"Your Grace." Anne addressed the queen as she fell into a low curtsey. She looked longingly at the woman: a devil and a witch, a lover and a queen. She did not know which side to choose. Her life revolved around disliking this queen, the woman who had killed her first husband and her father. A year into her marriage, Anne had managed to keep herself from the queen. Residing at her home, she was safer there. It seemed that time had caught up with her, and she was to suffer the presence of the witch.

"Lady Anne." The queen greeted her bowing her head a little. "May you walk with me?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Anne smiled trying not to be intimidated by the queens height. Elizabeth Woodville was one of the most elegant women Anne had ever met. Her eyes were bright blue, her skin was of an ivory tone and her lips were ripe and plump. The king chose a beauty for his queen. She could not be a witch or a devil if she was so beautiful. Even in the deep black dress, she was more radiant than any woman at court.

Queen Elizabeth held out her hand in front of her and let Anne walk along side her. They walked out of the busy banquet and into the gardens which were in full bloom.

"May I congratulate you on you marriage. It is belated, I have congratulated your husband many times. I have not seen you at court." Elizabeth smiled at Anne like and old friend.

"I do prefer the comfort of my own home, if that does not offend, Your Grace."

"Of course not, I would wish to keep myself in a safe home without trouble." Queen Elizabeth told Anne. "It seems like only yesterday that you were that bonnie little girl at my coronation. And now look at you, a grown woman married for a second time."

"Indeed, I remember your coronation well. You looked very beautiful in your furs." Anne said before remembering to whom she was speaking. She was speaking like Elizabeth was another lady of her rank, she was not; she was first woman in all of England. "I am sorry, Your Grace."

"Do not be sorry Anne. Whilst at court you may be a friend to me, it shall be nice to have a woman among my ladies who is not my sister." The Queen chuckled at her own words and Anne joined in, she was not humouring the Queen as she had done George. Her words were real, like a friend and Anne felt safe. Safer than she had in a long time. "I was widowed also Anne, John Grey, he was of Lancaster just like Prince Edward. It must be the destiny of us Lancastrian widows to marry into York." Elizabeth stopped and plucked a flower from one of the bushes.

"Perhaps." Anne became lost for words. "Perhaps it is."

"You were brave to do so Anne, even I was scared of marry my Edward. He was king and I a widow, but it is all fine now. People forget your past sins when you are queen; they are too busy watching you have babies to care of your past." Elizabeth smiled. "I am sure you shall have many babies, Richard loves you he shall give you a dozen sons."

"You think so, Your Grace." Anne questioned. He was kind to her, she was as free as any woman could possibly be. Whenever she wished she could ride out and perhaps join the hunt party. She could play her music and do her embroidery when it pleased her not her husband.

"Yes, he is like a lost lamb looking for safety. He looks at you as Edward does me, they think we cannot see their looks, but we can. George is the same with his Isabel, it is the same with them all. The sons of York have their differences, too many to count, but all long to be loved. That is certain." Elizabeth chirped as her mind turned to her husband, the handsome King Edward who had the court swarming around him. He was loved by all. Yet his wife Elizabeth was over looked, she was a woman and not important. That was how court would see her, that way she could slip away and be with others who respected her.

"He is?" Anne questioned the Queen again.

"Indeed. Anne do you ever wonder where we would be if the war was never fought?" Elizabeth asked Anne as they began to walk once more. She spun a ribbon around her hand, tying it tighter and tighter until it covered her hand like a silk glove.