I AM THE DAUGHTER OF YORK, I BOW TO NO ONE.
Isabella of York is formidable in her own right. She is no piece on a board. Do not let her play you like a fool, as she has done to so many others.
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-WESTMINISTER PALACE-
-CHRISTMAS 1465-
For a while they are like that, happy.
But then Edward goes on his campaign with her Uncle, and he comes back different.
Then Lady Elizabeth Woodville arrives at Court, and her whole life is upside down.
"May I present my wife, Lady Elizabeth Plantagenet." Edward holds out his hand as a golden-haired woman in a light blue dress takes his arm. He presents his wife, to the whole of the court leaving Eleanor alone. She had not felt this alone since she had lost Thomas.
Edward made her feel alive, then he made her feel dead.
"What has he done?!" She can hear George seethes beside her, but she places her hand over George's and he squeezes it.
"I need to leave." Eleanor puts on a mask of stone, crossing the great hall her eyes boring into Edward who would not even look at her. But she would not shed one tear.
This was her own doing, her brokenness was due to her own foolishness. She should have known not trust in promises of Kings, for they are all hollow words.
Now, she felt absolutely numb. Like everything she had ever known to be real was a lie.
This made her scream with agony, made her anger flare, and most of all made her wallow in an all-consuming sorrow.
Eleanor looks to the golden jewelry box with E & E engraved on it, a love token she hurls against the stone walls of her chambers. As her jewelry box against the stone wall, and she can feel her heart shatter as it hits the stones. She throws open her desk drawer and takes the letters penned by Edward and rips them into tiny pieces and leaves the ashes to scatter, like their love.
Anything to do with Edward she rips and tears apart just like he had done to her heart. She finds that most of her stuff had Edward's stamp on it, and the dresses he commissioned for her, she tears into scraps. The trinkets, the books, all of it is dashed against the stone wall.
"Ellie." She can hear the whisper of George's voice, as her tear stained voice turns to look at him.
"I want to leave." She says collapsing against his form, and they go down together in a heap of gold and white silk. She cries into his white velvet doublet, "I need to go home, George. I need to go back to my home, to the truth to the impossible."
"I will take you, Ellie." He says as he soothes her by running his fingers through her long black hair.
They sit in this position for hours, for so long that she is sure that not her appendages are numb but so are George's but he does not voice any discomfort. Instead, he holds are like a brother would, like Humphrey would, like John used too. Her head then falls into George's tear soaked doublet.
