❝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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By the time March came, Charlotte could no longer walk unassisted, the weight of her belly putting too big a strain on her slim body. Relegated to bed rest for the remaining time of her pregnancy, she was stuck issuing orders from there, and could not even see for herself as the last touches were added to the nursery near her chambers.
"This is intolerable," Charlotte complained to her sister while the two were bent over the chrism they were preparing. Though she had ordered the traditional chrism be aired and ready for use, she wanted her child to have one for himself just in case. Her father would most definitely refuse her the use of the Neville chrism and she did not think Duchess Cecily would grant her the York one. "I am so tired of sitting in bed, staring at these same walls!"
Isabel looked at her in sympathy. She remembered her mother's later pregnancies and she had never looked this way, even if in the end, it had only ever been herself and Anne who survived. She clung to that thought for comfort. Still, it was alarming to see her older, radiant sister so bloated and swollen from carrying a child. The women at court talked about pregnancy as if it revitalized a woman, but in Charlotte she could only see how she retreated into herself, became a paler, thinner shell of her former self.
"It shouldn't be too much longer," Isabel said soothingly. "You know Mistress Granger said that the babe will most likely come early."
Charlotte bit her lip, but nodded. That in itself was a little worrisome, because if the baby came too early, there would be little hope for its survival. She leaned back against the pillows and rubbed her enormous belly gently. ─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────
"Izzy, come here," requests a fevered Charlotte from her sweat-drenched bed. Isabel approaches her ailing sister cautiously. Charlotte looks even sicklier than her old nurse did before she went away forever. Her nurse had also had a baby before she died. But her nurse had had the baby inside her for longer than her sister. Maybe that was why Charlotte looked so bad, the baby was not ready to come out and it was making her sick.
"Tell me, what did you and Annie do today?" Charlotte asks, her voice quiet and throaty.
And so Isabel tells her. She tells Charlotte how she spent her day first at lessons, then helping Annie in her riding lessons, and then climbing apple trees to grab the plumpest ones.
"I brought you some!" Announces Isabel, smiling brightly as she masks her worry. "And one for the new baby too!"
Charlotte's eyes go glassy, her mouth curved into a fragile smile. "I will miss you."
Isabel feels her stomach drop. Her chest feels empty when she asks, "you're leaving, aren't you?"
Charlotte nods weakly, eyes now truly watering. "I do not wish to."
The younger girl slowly nods back. Charlotte coughs so hard that her forehead cloth falls off, and Isabel reaches out quickly to carefully put the wet cloth back on Charlotte's forehead. It feels much too warm to be a cooling cloth.
