❝you think Achilles was of impressive descent?
touch me one more time❞
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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December 1461
A few weeks later, on the gardens of the castle, Charlotte stood with Edward who had rid himself of his jacket and stood with his inner shirt, his doublet open.
She lent against him as he tried to explain the mechanisms of a new bow imported from Spain. Charlotte had only ever used English or French bows which made understanding how to use it quite a challenge.
"Loosen the string just a little more," Edward spoke as he lifted her elbow a few inches. "Now, let the arrow loose."
She did so with a huff and wanted to cry as she saw the arrow barely graze the outside of the target, before striking in the grass next to her other failures.
"I think I'll stick to the other bows," she said, giving it back to him.
"You are improving, though," Edward remarked. "Now it touched the target. But let us do something different now."
Charlotte let out a shaky breath as she felt him start kissing her neck, leaning her back against him. Her eyes shot open as she felt his hands digging into her sides, where her outer skirt could be loosened. Without thinking, she slapped him away, causing him to yelp.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"You tried to loosen my skirt! You should not do such a thing!"
"I thought you would want me to!" He complained, before raising his gaze to her face and realizing what was going on. "You've never done anything with a man, have you?"
Of course she hadn't. Unlike the women he was mostly with, she was unmarried and noble. She wasn't a whore or a widow with experience. Charlotte was the daughter of the wealthiest noble in the country, the sole child of a Princess of Lancaster. He'd been a fool to think she had done something with a man, even if she'd been ready to marry Edmund.
"I've never..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "Up until I came to court, I had only ever kissed Edmund."
Edward moved closer to her again. "You never told me that."
"I thought it would have been obvious," she shrugged, relaxing against his hold before standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips against his.
─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────
Edward had searched high and low for Charlotte – he had even been out into London and eventually to the stables where he asked if she had taken out a horse. She hadn't and he was just beginning to panic when he remembered what the date was and it hit him where she would be. He walked slowly, wondering what kind of state she would be in.
Edmund.
It was the first anniversary of his death. Nearly two years since he'd last seen Charlotte. She'd had been quiet the day before, the light gone from her eyes, and he had refrained from asking her anything. They both had their ghosts, clinging to them from the war and the battles fought and they were best left hidden inside.
