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°➶☽∘ ✥ ∘☾➴°
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐒 watch for a long while as Meg's retinue disappear in the distance. It is only when they are gone from sight that King Henry VII looks to his family, "Now we look to the future. Tonight, we shall have a feast. . .a celebration, even."
Glances between Harry and Alexandra and the latter gives him a large smile and takes his hand, "Very good, Father."
Later that night, a huge feast is laid out in the throne room. There is a bountiful amount of food, music, and wine to satisfy all of the guests and nobles at court. The nobles seem to enjoy it just as much as any other feast, mingling, laughing, and whispering.
Catherine arrives, excitement filling her veins. She had gotten a letter from the king earlier that day, inviting her to the feast. She thinks it is to announce the wedding of herself and Prince Harry.
Oh how wrong she is.
Harry seems to think so as well, offering Catherine his arm as he gives her a small smile. They walk in together, smiles on their faces, thinking this is a victorious day for themselves. Harry thinks he's gotten over his feelings for Alexandra.
He couldn't have been more wrong about his assumption.
The minute he sees her sitting at the banquet table, holding their little brother in her arms, his heart skips a beat. Her long blond hair falls over her shoulder, flowing freely, a symbolization of her unmarried and pure state. She wears a gold and red dress that is fitted to her body perfectly.
Her blue eyes shine under the candlelight.
Yet just pure beauty isn't what gets Harry. It's the smile on her face and the image of her, holding a baby, smiling down at him like the child is her own. And as wrong as he knows it is, he wants her, and only her, for the rest of his life.
He wants her to have his children and he wants her to raise them alongside him. He wants her to be his queen and their son to ascend the throne after him.
He is quick to shake those thoughts from his head, focusing on the woman holding his arm right now. Someone he can have that won't go against all the things he's ever been taught in life.
The feast commences, Henry yet to arrive, and Catherine and Harry make faces at each other from across the table. It's as if they're flirting with their eyes. Alexandra ignores their banter as she starts to worry about her father's absence when the arrival of the king is announced by a page.
Everyone stands up immediately, bowing as he enters the room.
He asks everyone to sit down as he makes his way to his seat. He doesn't not take a seat, however, opting to stand as he makes his announcement. His eyes look to his four remaining children softly before he speaks.
"Grief is an ocean. . .that drowns everything. . .breath, appetite, even faith," Henry states, "I have been away from you, beneath the ocean. . .searching for something to cling to. . .and I have found it. . .England. She is the finest kingdom in Europe, and I will stop at nothing to keep her safe. And I can think of no better way to do so than with a royal marriage, a treaty of flesh and blood that will make the rest of Christendom bow to us. . .and not just for a generation. . .but for generations to come. As my wife died. . .she made one last request of me. And I have wrestled with her request. . .and I have decided that I will honor it. I will take Princess Catherine of Aragon to be my wife. To a nursery full of sons."
"Full of sons," the people in the room say as they raise their glasses with Henry. Alexandra does as the rest do, but is too shocked to comprehend the man's words. Harry stands up, infuriated. Alexandra goes to stand up and go after him, but it proves hard with the baby in her hands.
"Congratulations, Father," Alexandra manages as she rocks Teddy back and forth.
"Thank you, my dear child," Henry replies.
"Why don't you take your son, Teddy," Alexandra says, "You have yet to hold him."
Henry smiles down at the boy, "Of course."
After quickly handing the boy to him, Alexandra runs off after Harry.
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"Harry!" Alexandra exclaims when she reaches his rooms. She flings the door open without knocking. Her eyes immediately land on the boy sitting on the edge of his bed, hands balled into fists. His eyes dart up to meet hers and she can see the rage and hurt in his eyes.
"Harry," Alexandra says, softly, "I-I know this is not a good time to tell you this, but I need to let you know. And I'm sorry if it's selfish, but every time I look at you and don't tell you, a little piece of me breaks."
Harry's once angry expression turns into worry and concern, he stands up, making his way over to his sister as he forgets about the events of the feast. She looks so scared and doesn't know how to tell him the news other than by blurting it out, "We're not twins."
"What do you mean? Of course we're twins," Harry replies incredulously, the previous events fading into dust as his heart picks up its pace.
"No, we're not," Alexandra sighs, twisting her fingers desperately, "My father is Edward, Earl of Warwick. Or Teddy."
"What? How do you know?"
"Mother left me a letter when she died, explain my parent's situation," Alexandra explains as coherently as she can, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but - "
But before she can finish, she is cut off by Harry's lips on hers. She gasps in surprise but does not push him away.
No.
She pulls him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him as she gives into the feeling she always thought was a forbidden fruit.
