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The one where King Edward IV is captivated by Charlotte Neville and their love has far-reaching consequences. For Charlotte had a place in Edward's heart no one could tear her fr...
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Westminster Palace, London, 6 June 1461
Charlotte walked regally across the halls of the castle, making her way to the Great Hall where the newly declared king was. Men gawked as she passed, but she paid them no mind. Her focus was on pledging her fealty, fulfilling her sisters' dreams of seeing the York brothers again and then leaving for the countryside. She wanted to settle at Pontrefact and mourn.
Never had she thought she'd be here, especially after the upheaval of the recent years. Her father, who had once been one of King Henry's trusted advisors had turned on him, supporting Richard, Duke of York when he raised his banners. Her life as she knew it had changed the moment her father sat her down and informed her he was marching to war on the York side. It had not been completely unexpected, but she'd been blindsided nevertheless.
He was marching against her family. Granted, she had never had much of a relationship with them. Her mother had disgraced herself when she married her father instead of waiting for another political marriage to be crafted for her and in the end, she had died before reconciling with her brother. Nevertheless, the death of his sister had caused Mad King Henry to seek a bond with her only child.
She had grown up seeing her uncle on rare occasions and they became even rarer as his mental state deteriorated. With each passing year, she spent more time at Warwick Castle and less at court. In truth, she enjoyed it more that way. She could spend time with her sisters and her father's wards and did not have to put up with her aunt and cousin. On the summers, they'd often go to Calais due to her father's position and it was a relief to have a break from the dreary English weather, exchanging it for sunny skies and the fresh ocean breeze.
But now, the Lancasters were not on throne. The Yorks were. And that made her, due to her Lancastrian blood, a threat.
"The Lady CharlotteNeville, Countess of Leicester and Kent. The Ladies Isabel and Anne Neville. Daughters to Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick and Salisbury." With the herald's announcement, she urged her sisters silently to walk with her and they walked slowly, gracefully, until they neared the dais at the top of the stairs and sank down into their curtsies, bending their heads as well.
"You may rise," a voice said and she allowed herself to look up as she straightened her knees. She had to swallow back a gasp as she saw the three men at the last step.
The three sons of York had grown up in the past years, when she had been cooped up inside as battle after battle raged on. The three of them were men now, not only Edward as she remembered.
Fool, a small voice whispered in her head. There were four sons of York, not three. Her heart clenched at the thought.
She squeezed the hands of both sisters before walking forwards and sinking down to another, deeper curtsy. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she felt Edward staring at her face and carefully covered neckline. She knew why he was looking at her, that morning she had been careful when she chose her clothes. She'd tried to remember everything of importance in order for everything to go well. They had, after all, grown up together, Edward and his brothers being her father's wards.
