❝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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Mon cheri,
That you should ever read those words, and see my soul in them, it all only serves to send a tingle down my spine. It would take the courage of this entire island for me to even give this to you, but I cannot live with all these words pent up inside of me, bursting to escape, wrapping you in my arms, each dot in every space substituting for the kisses I long to give you...and then...and then...everything.
Your sisters must think I'm dreadfully silly. I believe I heard Elizabeth call me flighty and a terrible flirt before I left court. Perhaps I am. Perhaps I am a terrible, flighty flirt. But my heart beats, too, just as hers do. Or will you agree? Will I send you this and then be told I'm only eighteen, that I don't know my own mind, that I can't know my own feelings, that I must sit still and behave? Will you only tell me what we had was lie? Am I pouring my heart out to a man who was only using me?
I don't believe you could ever be so cruel. I may not be serious, but you have always taken me seriously. Did you not feel what I felt when we kissed? Did your heart not beat stronger when our lips clashed together? Didn't your skin cry for mine with every touch? It must have. Mine could not burn so hotly without there being a spark in return. I am passion and I am fire, and all of it is yours, if you'd come find me, my love, my only, my life.
Votre coeur, Charlotte
─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────
It was nearly dusk when Edward returned to court from a hunt. After changing out of his riding clothes, he headed to his mother's apartments, nearly colliding with a woman coming out of them.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty," she said abashed, falling into a deep curtsy, not daring to look up at him. Her blonde hair fell in loose ringlets, blue eyes sparkled as they met his.
"There is nothing to forgive," Edward assured her, his eyes tracing the girl's figure. "What is your name, my lady?"
"Elizabeth Lucy."
"And where are you off to, Mistress Lucy?" The monarch inquired.
"To my quarters, Your Majesty, I have a headache and My Lady, the Dowager Duchess has given me leave to retire," she answered, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment, having to admit to the king that she wasn't feeling well.
"Well, then I apologize for detaining you. I hope you will feel better soon," Edward told her kindly, stepping out of the way so she could go the shared bedchambers of the ladies-in-waiting without further delay.
As she left, he could not help but stare after her, thinking she looked fetching.
"Brother," George greeted him, causing him to tear his eyes away from the young woman and greet him. The Duke of Clarence smirked playfully. "Should I send Mistress Lucy a letter that when she is feeling better that you wish to see her in your bedchambers?"
Edward blinked, surprised by that abrupt question. Of course, he understood why George was asking him and he could not deny that perhaps his eyes had lingered just a little too long on Elizabeth Lucy's shapely body.
"I am afraid that I will not need to see her in my bedchambers. Once Charlotte returns, I will be more than occupied," Edward jested lewdly.
─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────
Pontefract Castle, West Yorkshire
Charlotte woke one particularly cold February morning with a groan of pain as the babe twisted in her belly.
"Something's wrong!" She screamed, instinctively knowing it, even though, after that single movement, nothing else untoward happened. The panic in her voice sent Marie flying for the midwife.
Mistress Granger, the same one who had seen her stepmother safely through both her sisters' births, came into the room, clucking under her breath.
"Now then, Madam, what's all this fuss about? You know, getting yourself flustered is bad for the babe."
"Examine me," Charlotte begged, "Something's wrong. I just know something's wrong with my child."
"What could possibly be wrong, hmm? You've a lovely strong boy inside you; he's almost ready to come out. What could possibly go wrong at this stage?"
Despite the older woman's reassurances, Charlotte wouldn't let the matter rest until Mistress Granger had hoisted her shift above her belly and gently poked and prodded the contours of her rounded body.
When the older woman looked up again, her eyes were somewhat graver than before.
"Madam, you were right to be concerned, it seems. The babe appears determined to come out so that he'll be presenting us with his britches end first rather than his head."
Charlotte paled. She'd heard enough stories of babies who had faced the wrong way upon birth to know that it was not a good thing. "Can anything be done?"
"I can try and turn him, but I warn you, such a move is perilous and may bring on a premature labour."
Charlotte shook her head. Perhaps she could ask for it to be done during her labor, but she would not endanger an early delivery.
"No thank you, Mistress Granger. I'll not risk that. I'll birth the child as he is, thank you."
"As you wish," Mistress Granger curtsied, trying to hide the worry in her eyes by bowing her head.
Charlotte waved her away, "You may go. But, Mistress Granger? Not a word to anyone, do you hear me?"
─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────
Mon coeur,
I ache to be with you again. I wish to hold you in my arms and hold your growing stomach in my hands, to measure the growth of our child.
I believe I am winning the council over. With luck, by the time our babe is in your arms, we will have their blessing and you can be rightfully called Queen Charlotte. If I could, I would set off this very night and go to you, so we could spend this precious nights together, holding one another. But with the council finally coming over to our side, I fear what would happen if I left. We need their support.
Know that I love you. Know that I have always loved you. Know that you carry my heart with you.
Your loyal servant, King Edward
Charlotte put the letter on her night table and traced a hand over her swollen belly, trying to calm the furious kicks of her child. The future heir to the throne was in there, just waiting to be born and God, she couldn't wait to hold her baby boy in her arms.
She tried to forget about Mistress Granger's words, hoping against hope her babe would come head first. But, the pains hadn't subsided and deep down, she knew her child would not do her the kindness of making his birth easy.
She remembered hers and Edward's constant argument, regarding the gender and became worried. He had insisted it would be a girl, while she thought it'd be a boy. What would happen if she did have a girl? What would happen if she delivered a bonny little girl, instead of a squalling boy who could be his father's heir?
Despite his words, she knew all men wanted sons. Would he really be thrilled if she gave him a girl first?
