|
Author
|
Topic: The White King's daughter
|
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted October 28, 2017 02:50 PM
  
March, 1480The Illiad spoke of the sky God, Zeus and his two brothers, Neptune of the sea, and Hades of the Dead. It was said that Hades was welcome to stay upon the happy, warm, and light filled Mount Olympus. But, he preferred the cold dreary Underworld. He, unlike Lucifer, had gone willingly to his prison. And, it was even spoken of that everybody went to the Underworld, good or no. But that it was Mercury, the messenger who decided if they should be blessed or punished while there.
Those past two years, I had begun to correlate Dicken with Hades. The North is a cold and dreary land, just as the Ancient Pagan Greeks talked of their underworld.
And the Duke of Gloucester had not returned to Court since.
Zeus certainly did remind me of Papa, the King of the Gods, and his whoring struck me the most. And sometimes I thought of Hera as Mama, how full of rage she was and how difficult it had been for Zeus to obtain her hand.
I laughed of it once. Thinking of Dicken as the God of the Dead and laughed again to think of how many souls had perished to him on the battlefield, they said he was second only to his brother. Truthfully there was only one other person I knew who was more admired of my father then he, and that was myself. The Duke's signature was even; 'Loyalty Binds me. Richard of Gloucester.' Addressed to the King of England. IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted October 30, 2017 07:20 PM
I wrote him, he never replied to me. Was it shame or did he truly hate me for what I had said? Mayhap both. But at the same time, I assumed the latter. And I did not dare ask the King, grieving for Baby George, who had died just a year and a half ago, six months after Dicken's departure in fact. Still, the Good Lord gave to my Mother, Katherine.
Mary's betrothal to the King of Denmark had been formally annulled, but she did not seem to mind.
"Truthfully Bess," she spoke. "I would rather stay in England and be a Countess." I was happy she thought such things. But, I began to pick up on Cecily's jealousy and even began to understand it.
Little Anne became betrothed the year before as well. Though, her celebration had not been as grand as mine. Her match was well above mine own. The son of Frederick III of the Hapsburgs, a Kingdom of Italy and high, high standing in Rome.
She was sent many beautiful golden and silver coats encrusted with yellow gems and the stitchery was something I had to admire on the headdresses which were usually red. Yes, Anne walked about like a little Queen. Though, she was always an obedient child and quiet. And I began to confirm that she was replacing me in my Father's heart. But why shouldn't she have been? She was the spitting image of him, number one of all of us. And as I was fourteen, and she four, it made sense.
And that year there was letters exchanged between King Edward of England, and King Ferdinand of Spain to marry baby Katherine to Prince Juan.
And so, my father had planned it perfectly.
I would be the Queen of France, Cecily would be the Queen of Scotland, Anne the Queen of the Hapsburgs, and Katherine the Queen of Spain, and through our brother as the King of England, betrothed to the daughter of the King of Brittany, we would all keep peace between the Sovereigns of Europe.
Still, I continued to grow more and more envious of Anne and even tripped her on occasion, something I shan't ever forgive myself for. Though I knew Cecily felt the same for me.
I think back to then with mixed emotions.
Was I looking forward to departure? Or was I loathing it, fearful of it? Still, it was overdue that I should leave, and Cecily's time was coming.
Queerly enough Mama and I began to grow close. Though the Hapsburgs reign more powerfully then the French, the latter is more styled and flamboyant. I was taught to walk as a French girl. High neck and high puffed out bosom, hands resting slightly above mine hips and a sway that seemed overdramatized of them. Mama joined in on the walk a lot of the time. And I would blush in embarrassment.
"That," she explained with pride. "Is just how women walk, but they have perfected it."
And every month or even week it seemed, she wrote a letter to my betrothed's Father. 'When should I send my Dauphiness?'
Sometimes I wonder if it was all play, or was she that young sexualizing her daughter for the most important status a woman can hope to achieve in this world? Indeed, her and Uncle Anthony, when he came to visit, always talked to me of wetness between the legs.
"Men are dogs, Bess," said Anthony. "Sniveling dogs wanting what's down there." I knew what he meant. Though he himself was not a courter.
"When you're in the bed, Bess, you lie there and pet his face and hair, keep your eyes away, shyly. Appear as a delicate flower, hesitant for his **** , and he will love you always." I plugged mine ears.
But, the King was growing unhappy. And I blamed Dicken for it, and even began to hate him for it. King Edward's pain was due to him, and I began to write him nasty letters on the subject. Still, I was young, and a part of me thinks he understood.
"Come and be kind to thy sister Bess," Papa said to me. And he was playing with Anne on his lap. I fumed.
"No, no Bess. She needs her sister, she loves her sister, do you not my little Anne?"
"I love you Bess, please be kinder to me."
And I cried. And the King took us both in his arms and laid a kiss on either cheek. IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted October 30, 2017 10:30 PM
November, 1480
Anne and I began to get along better. And this is when I realized her to be my favorite sister. It seemed as though we were all outgoing, but she was calm, and had eyes and mannerisms like a mouse, which rather then leave, sits nibbling on the crumbs eyes fixed affront it.
I loved my siblings. And for them I bore and still do, a love unlike any other.
Mary was plain, a plain voice, a plain girl. But she was headstrong as well and loved to ride.
Cecily was full of herself, charming and outspoken, she too loved to ride. Though, was the most like our Mother, and could be unbearable.
Little Rich? Oh, he was a strapping little boy with his wavy golden locks. He used to pretend as if he were some chivalrous knight and oft' he would bow to me and kiss mine hand.
"My Lady, I have saved thee from the dragon." He loved swords, and Papa gave him many.
Anne as I have said was quiet.
Katherine was hyper and could not sit still if her life depended on it.
Edward I did not know. Edward I can hardly remember in fact. But what I do remember is that he was a scholarly boy, taken well to his lessons of arithmetic and reading. But, one thing I did notice about him is that he had been raised by Woodvilles, and the rest of us preferred our Father's kin. Truly, Edward didn't belong with us. Truly, he was a stranger to me in some regard.
And then, there was little Brigid. I peered into her cradle. In time I would come to know that she had a sense of self power and incite. I would come to love her insight and praise of the heroines of the Bible. Esther especially.
"Chosen for the church Bess." Said Mama smiling and rapped the blanket 'bout her more.
"At least one Princess should be chosen for such a status."
But indeed, this had not happened for two hundred years, an English Princess selected for the role of an Abbess.
I looked at her, my Mother. She was heavier now, stomach sagging. But, she retained her beauty. Twelve pregnancy's and ten of them to survive infancy. Truly, a Queen as fertile as her does not come around often, or even a woman for that matter. IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted October 30, 2017 10:54 PM
Christmas, 1480"I hate him Papa!" I shouted and flung myself into my pillow.
"Bess, Dicken and I's problems are not yours to bare."
"He didn't even come for Christmas! He's not been here for two years! Nor spoken to you or I."
"He's spoken to me Bess, don't you think that, not like a brother, but he has. He still is the Lord of the North." But the King's eyes were downcast.
Maybe it was adolescence, but I was growing to hate Dicken even more. And mayhap, it was because I thought of him as one of my best friends, abandoned perhaps. But I daresay, he did not know how much he meant to me and if he had, he would have replied.
"He doesn't even write me back." Mine eyes were filling with tears. The King sighed.
"I know, I know."
There were celebrations going on in the Great Hall, but I wanted to stay in my room. And even Papa did not attend simply to make me feel better.
"You know Bess, I was twenty three when you were born, and I remember, the first child I knew and raised, the Kingdom must have thought it quite a strange spectacle to see me on the floor affront my throne with you. I used to crawl with you Bess, do you remember?"
Of course I hadn't, but I remembered hearing the story's. Once I had crawled behind his throne and we played somewhat of a game of Hide and Seek. King Edward was not like most father's at all. He used to sit with us and watch puppet shows and laugh right along at the child like jokes. But what was it? What made him so unlike other men and other Kings to their children? Was it the fact that he married for love? In truth to this day, I know not the reason.
He rocked me.
"Why are you so tall?" I asked. He was, and it was quite funny that the King towered above everyone else.
He laughed. "Why are you?"
"It's a curse for a woman to be so tall Papa, it rightly is."
"I think it's a blessing." He said.
"Papa, will the Dauphine take a mistress like you?"
"You know too well the ways of men Bess." He replied. "Oh, it will happen, all men are that way, we have needs that must be satisfied and beautiful women satisfy those needs. But does it mean I have fallen out of love with your Mother? Of course not, any good King knows to keep his Queen first in his heart."
I felt the tears come.
"Will you write me?" And his own eyes watered I daresay. And that was the thing of it too. Because King Edward had decided to form such intimate relations with his daughter, it would be more difficult when we would leave to take our places as Queens.
"I will write you, every day." He grinned.
And I laid mine head in his lap.
"Do you promise?"
"I promise Bess." And he began to stroke mine hair.
IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted October 30, 2017 11:10 PM
January, 1481Cecily blared at Anne and I. Scotland is like England, there are no special customs to be learned and for this she envied us beyond belief.
She was ten now and would soon be eleven, growing aware of the changing body's of females.
I laced up my under bodice as she gave out a yell.
"You've no breasts! What Prince wants to lie with a woman with no breasts! You're flat chested!"
"But she's a big rump!" Expressed Mary and gave my behind a slap. We both laughed.
"Well! I've one too! And I am plumper then you both. And in truth Cecily was the most beautiful of our parent's children. Sometimes I wish she would have been the eldest.
Anne as always, sat watching. But if one were to walk into that room all eyes would be drawn to her, dressed in her satin gold gown with embroidered vines of the same color, but a darker hue. Anne reminded me of a little guardian angel.
Little Rich attempted a headstand and nearly knocked Cecily over.
"Watch it you oaf!" She shouted.
"You're an oaf!" He yelled back.
"Now stop it," I said. Brother and sister should be loving with one another.
"She is rightly impossible!" Yelled Rich. It was true that of all the siblings that could not get along, Little Rich and Cecily were they.
IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted November 05, 2017 01:08 AM
Since this novel is my only solace, I have decided to continue it. Memory's for people reading not registered.
Queen Elizabeth of York had numerous ladies-in-waiting, which was reported by the Spanish ambassador Rodrigo de Puebla as something unusual and astonishing: "the Queen has thirty-two ladies, very magnificent and in splendid style".[17] Elizabeth of York reportedly had 36 ladies-in-waiting, eighteen of them noblewomen; in 1502, a more complete account summarized them as sixteen "gentlewomen", seven maids of honor and three "chamberers—women", who attended to her in the bedchamber.[17] Aside from the women formally employed as ladies-in-waiting, the queen's female retinue in reality also consisted of the daughters and the ladies-in-waiting of her ladies-in-waiting, who also resided in the queen's household.[17]
From Wikepedia, and this was because rather then banish the women whose family's were Yorkist supporters to Bedlam, King Henry VII employed them into his Wife's service.
February, 1481 "So," blared the Queen at the King on the day of my fifteenth Birthday Party. "You've brought thy Strumpet, Shore?!"
She charged right past me, fists balled. I was at the head of Anne Hastings, my sister, Mary, now selected to accompany me to France, Elizabeth Tilney, Joan Vaux, Anne Howard, Elizabeth Howard, Mary Roos, and ******* Cousin Kate, in that order. Anxiously the younger ones watched my Mother from behind, peeking their heads out from behind my back, and I placed mine head in mine hand in shame. We would have entered the Great Hall in no more then fifteen minutes. And I was adorned in a white silk gown, they in green. King Louis XI had sent for me to depart on my sixteenth birthday. And to celebrate my fifteenth year of life, many Lords and Lady's did attend. In fact, it was a very large and marvelous celebration in the Great Hall.
Jane Shore, Papa's favorite mistress, and mayhap even woman was sitting right next to my father. Jane Shore was a cute little thing, with her Eastern Cuckoldry accent, and her dirty blond hair plopped all about her. She was like an inquisitive child to me. And indeed, she had a rumor amongst the nobles; "Pretty Miss Shore," for, she was the Mistress of many Lords before the King, and he himself had taken her from Will Hastings. But, I knew there was a genuine love between the two. I think my Father treated her better then the other men she had serviced, and indeed I think his heart gave way for her innocent demeanor.
She clasped to his hand. And he, now awfully fat, rose in rage.
"By Jesus on High, you would do well to honor thy daughter to depart to France this next year!"
"And you would do well to banish that ***** from this room!"
Everyone gave an awkward silence. This happened too much as was acceptable for a Kingdom. The King and Queen of England were always fighting in front of their Court. And ambassadors who witnessed it leaked it to all the sovereigns of the continent. Sometimes I think they must have thought us a laughing stock.
I felt tears line mine eyes.
"If you don't want to bid thy daughter a beautiful birthday, then you may leave!"
"And this is that not my throne she sits affront, Edward!" And she kicked the chair as Jane Shore bounced up in a yelp.
"Get out! Before I sick the Guard on mine own Queen!"
Uncle Anthony placed his hands on my Mother's shoulders as she raged. Oh, that famous rage of Queen Elizabeth Woodville's.
"Sister, sister..."
"No don't sister me!" I looked to see some of the Lords and Lady's cast glances if they should intervene or not.
"Listen to your sod of a brother Lizbet, and sit you down." He said.
"You sit yourself down! You married me, I am your Queen and I already raise Grace for you, I'll not raise another!"
"You'll raise who I tell you to!"
I was crying profusely now and my Lady's gathered around me to comfort. It was strange to me that Mary seemed not perturbed.
"Look at what you do to our Bess..." He said. "To me Lady Daughter," and he held out his arms. I went.
He stroked mine hair.
"Apologize to your daughter for your behavior."
"You apologize to her!" The Queen shouted and stormed out, the Earl of Rivers close behind.
"Ha! Look at the ******* sod follow his mistress like a Dwarf!" Shouted Papa.
It had been ruined.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u06DpcFXc4U IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted November 05, 2017 02:55 AM
The festivity resumed for the next day, and this time Jane Shore was not present. Although one could plainly see the King and Queen barely controlling their tempers toward each other.
But that night as I lay sobbing, I did talk to Kate of Dicken.
"Does your Father send any well tidings?" I asked.
"He does, Bess, he hopes and knows that you shall make a good Queen of France."
I knew she was lying. Though, I didn't know why Dicken hated me so now. Maybe, he just hated everyone at Court.
"He has killed the King's spirit, Kate!" I declared. "And I care not if he be your father, he hath destroyed the happiness of this country!" And I sobbed all the harder.
She was twelve and rather then fight back, she attempted to console.
"Bess, Papa, loves you and he loves the King, he just has never healed from the pain of Uncle George's death."
"Well, he's a funny way of showing it!" I declared.
The linens became wet with my tears.
"They fight so much Kate..." I said when I had come to.
"I know." She replied.
I realized then that it was the Duke of Gloucester who had retained so much of it, kept them from each other. Well, he to Papa, and Uncle Anthony to Mama. Still, the two seemed to loathe each other, but they could keep their siblings at bay.
"Do not!" I retorted. "Do not! Send him my love."
"I shan't Bess, I shan't." And she took me in embrace. We slept in the same bed that night. IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted November 06, 2017 12:35 AM
I stared at myself affront the mirror, bare skinned, naked. Eleanor and I had just finished bathing. Recently she had delivered of her first child, a boy, though I never met him. She visited often now, but never took him with her.
She was already rolling on her stockings and I looked back to see how large her breasts were. I stared down at mine own. They had grown no larger then when they had first developed at the age of twelve and Eleanor's were the size of a child's head.
I was the perfected image of beautiful, pale cream colored skin, thick thys, fleshy stomach, buxom hips, large ass, flabby arms, blond haired and silver eyed. Everything about me was flawless. Everything, save my breasts. And my **** were barely darker then my skin. I didn't understand.
"Eleanor," I said. "Why is it that my breasts are so small? And yours are so large? Mary's are big too, and Cecily's you can tell will be such. Why if my body is fat and beautiful are my breasts so tiny?" I always asked Eleanor of such matters, for, she had been raised away from the Kingdom, and though she was married, I knew her to be quite a thrill seeking girl. Indeed, her husband was thirty one years her senior and she told me she snuck away from their manor often to sleep with other men.
Like a protective older sister, she dried mine hair.
"Is that all you think of baby sister?" She inquired gently.
I could feel her fat **** against my back.
"No, but, the Dauphine certainly shan't fall in love with me." She chuckled. At nineteen, she was taller then I, round faced with fat rosy cheeks.
"Men are foolish Bessie," she replied. "You could be the thinnest girl in the world and I will tell you true it does not matter if you act one of two ways."
"And what's that?" I inquired.
"One, you act shy, scared and hesitant as he runs his hands all up and down you." She was dressing me and I caught the sense that she was purposely rubbing my legs in an intimate manner. "Two, you appear confident and act as though his manhood cannot satisfy you, proud."
I lifted mine arms as she pulled my bedding gown over me.
"Why?"
Because there is something that really makes the blood rise to a man's **** head of he is the first to deflower an innocent, all his, as if he owns her. And for the latter, men do not like a girl to be clingy because it intimidates them, having to live up to their expectation too much."
"But it certainly does help to have large breasts like you." I stared enviously at them. For, she was naked save her stockings, the linings resting just below her hairy pubis.
"What's it feel like? When he...enters?" Now she was pulling on her own bedding gown.
"Painful. The first time, very painful. There really is nothing I could compare it to. Well, have you ever mashed a bowl of potatoes? No, you're a Princess I don't suppose you have. But have you seen it done?"
"Once I think."
"Well, Bess, your sex is tight like whole potatoes, and as he pounds himself into you, he loosens it like the mashing of potatoes." I shrieked with laughter and so did she.
"It feels like a pop I suppose, like popping of the tightness." And I howled all the more and so did she.
"Bess, the Dauphine will love you. Any man fortunate enough for your hand would love you."
"Why?" I asked.
"Why!?" She boomed. "I know not a better seamstress, and a girl as well read as yourself. Tell me truth Bess, what woman enjoys to read Dio Cassius? Dio Cassius is rightly boring, something only a man of state would be interested in."
"Dio Cassius is a historian." I spoke. "All people should be interested in where they come from."
"Well, I'm only interested in where I am going. And besides Bess, I have never in my life met someone who knows more ballads and songs then you."
And that was true, my love of music. To this day all around me marvel at how many songs I do know.
"Come sister, it's time for bed." IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted November 06, 2017 10:49 PM
I couldn't find the actual intro. to this but it was created from a novel of Philippa Gregory, who is NOT a historian, she is a romance writer. This happens to be about Queen Elizabeth Woodville. Philippa Gregory is the same Author of "The Other Boleyn Girl."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kynLdGmmeMo 0:08 Elizabeth Woodville
0:19 King Edward IV
0:26 Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick
0:33 Anne Neville
0:40 King Richard III
0:52 George, Duke of Clarence
0:54 Isabel Neville
1:01 King Henry VII as a child in exile
1:11 Margaret Beafort
1:20 Margaret of Anjou To me it is fascinating to see the contrast of Mediaeval England with Renaissance England. Henry VIII, King Henry VII's son, brought the Renaissance to England.
IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted November 17, 2017 05:34 AM
March, 1481The King knelt best he could, taking off his cap to the Dowager Duchess of York.
"Lady Mother, thy son is joyed at your visit!" He hollered in jest.
"I've three sons!" She shot back, "and two of them lie in earth!"
"Then you live by the grace of the King you did not bear." He grinned menacingly and took to his full stance.
I looked at my Grandmother, her silk white hair adorned in a double coned black henin. And her blue gown was becoming to her waist. Save her tresses, she did not look elderly, indeed, Papa could have passed for her brother, not one wrinkle upon her face.
In back of her were three of her women and her eyes blared with hatred at my father. It seemed as though tears of frustration and powerlessness were beginning to form in the blue of them. But Cecily Neville was a proud woman, always had been. And so was Papa, and in that moment I was beginning to suspect that their hatred of each other preceded his marriage to my Mother.
I was concerned to sewing in the Great Hall. My sister would soon be thirteen Springs old, and for her I was creating a colorful dress of my green French fabrics sent to me.
And, being as how I, like my Father, had no liking for the woman I shot her a look of superiority, that I was her Princess, and she were MY Dowager Duchess. But, of course she did not see, only stood staring down Edward.
"I would have thought you'd come to celebrate the birthday of the Granddaughter I named for thee." He said.
"You know well why I've come." She declared.
"To gather the estates."
"Oh, no, no..." Edward laughed. "There shall be no gathering of the estates, they are to the Earl of Warwick."
"And who attends to him!?" She demanded.
The Dukedom of Clarence had been disarmed, but Uncle George's little son, Edward, whom we called Neden had inherited the Earldom of Warwick from his Maternal Grandfather.
"Dorset keeps him."
My Grandmother's mouth fell open. "Y..You...You are the most cruel, imbecilic..." She gasped.
"I am your King and your Sovereign and that is who I have appointed to keep Edward. And you know too that Dorset had been made Constable of the Tower?" Papa's face was sneering now.
"You have liberated this land only to destroy and to poison it with your..Woodville family of muts!" Grandmother Cecily was not a woman to break down and cry, and so this came as no shock to anyone, her reaction that is. But I could tell, I could tell that the King had crossed a line with her by assigning my brother, Thomas, as the Constable of the Tower. And Little Neden was being kept there, in horrid conditions I would later learn.
She stocked out in a fury and Papa watched her go, a triumph in his eye. A servant offered him a platter of cheeses, which he took a fistful of and pawed them into his mouth. IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted November 18, 2017 12:14 AM
I came to him that night in his chambers, and sat myself upon his lap. At fifteen, I had grown even taller and still was only up to barely his shoulders. It was a wonder how tall Papa was and though he was very large, so much so that his stomach made it difficult for me to gather myself upon him, I held to his neck. I gave his cheek a kiss, and laid mine head upon his neck.
"To what do I owe this tenderness, Lady Daughter?" He inquired.
I suppose I knew how to be cute with him and nuzzled his chin, he laughed and planted a kiss on my lips.
"Papa, do you think little Neden is safe with Thomas? Happy?" Indeed I knew he wasn't.
"He's no longer being kept there, Bess, I just said that so the ***** would leave with a sense of frustration, no, Dicken has taken him into his care if it pleases you to know." And he dug into a cherry pie. The King's physicians had tried to advise him not to eat so much, but he never listened.
And as he fed me a bite I gave a toothy laugh, biting down on the spoon. If the Victor of Towton wanted to eat himself into his grave, then let him, he had earned it. He was not young, but he was not old either. Thirty seven soon to be thirty eight. He, Cecily and I used to jest of it; The Water Maid, the Fish, and the Ram. My Father was not like most Kings, drawing up their horoscope every year. He claimed that you cannot claim yourself to be holy and engage in such acts. It was truly, one of his only criticisms of the Church of Rome. But, he enjoyed the fun of what each sign described it's birth inhabitants to be like. I, an Aquarius, was said to be free thinking, unpredictable, very caring of the equalities, and innovative, which I suppose did fit me.
Cecily was a Pisces and so it was said that she be quiet, shy, dutiful, devoted, psychic, and highly creative. This was not her at all. And often she would laugh and ask Papa if they'd recorded the wrong date.
Aries fit him quite well, headstrong, short tempered, and entertaining, still 'twas emphasized that Aries enjoyed sport, which the King did not.
"I hate sport Bess," he said one day. "If men want dainty protection while jousting, what is the point then? Or, ball, my goodness I am bored into my bed. But, Bess, fencing, wrestling, grappling, those primitive ways of fighting turned to game, that daughter, is where my heart lies."
Indeed, since Uncle Anthony was quite a jouster, sometimes the King would emphasize the greatness of wrestling above it.
"I don't even like my face concealed on the battlefield, let alone in a game where we practice ******* like women." And all around him would laugh, including myself. The Woodvilles were hated and when the King and Queen fought, Papa made it clear who the superior family was. Sometimes I think I attached mine own anger to such things. Indeed, years later I would shame my son for liking such a thing.
"So you and Dicken are friends again?" I asked.
"I'd not say friends, but were brothers again." And we both giggled.
"I would like to see him again before I leave, just one last time, do you think he would come for my birthday? Even the King of France said so, Father, he wishes me to depart on eve after my sixteenth birthday."
"I think he would," replied the King, and if he doesn't, and he raised his arm let it fall as if in execution.
Sometimes I think the Duke of Clarence's death weighed on him. Even though he could do no wrong in the minds of the peasants and the serfs, his actions hadn't set well with some of the nobles. If he were going to execute his brother for treason, that would have been acceptable, it was how long he had waited to do so. They had told me that Uncle George made threats against the family, spoken outright obscenities of us. But why be killed for that and not for siding with Lancaster ten years previous? It was why I always had the sense that Papa knew what Uncle George had said to me and that he had petted me. At fifteen, I was much more aware of the mannerisms of men, but of course he would not say as not to shame me.
Though the shock of it had taken a bit to wipe off, I quickly began to equate it. And I discerned now too, that my father was a merciful sovereign. For, the Duke of Clarence had been grated to choose his own execution, and this was to be drowned in a sealed vat of Malmesbury wine. But, Edward knew I was on his side, I was always on his side before anyone else's. And, in ways, I think my father took advantage of this and I grew beyond my years in the ways of interaction, unlike my sisters and brother. He was always very frank with me on everything when I inquired of things.
"Father," I said. "Why do you and Grandmother hate each other so?" He laughed.
It didn't sound like it had phased him at all. Indeed, he had learned to turn his rage for her into a sort of comedy in his mind. I admired that trait, and have thus far never known another person to possess it.
"Some women Elizabeth, are meant to be Mothers, to kiss their little baby's, inhale their newborn skin, and kiss their little yellow bonnets resting on their heads, made for them. But then there are women who dress themselves as Jezebals, put their estates and 'high' marriages above anything good for their baby's. All they care of is rising, higher and higher in the social latter and grieve themselves more for the Queen ship then the husband. You see what I mean Bess?"
"Do you mean to say that Grandmother Cecily was more sorrowed that she should not be Queen, then that her husband's head was put on a spike outside London City?" And he nodded.
"Yes, Bess."
"And then you fell in love with Mother and Jaquetta was Queen Margaret's Chief Lady in Waiting?" And Edward laughed and nodded. "They wanted to marry me to a French Princess, Daughter, bah! A man who lets his Mother control his choice of consort is weak willed and has no please to be a King, Bess. That is when Warwick and I took up arms. Who was I to turn down my soul mate? Then again..." And he laughed. "She's not brought me much peace either...But Bess, the point is this, my Mother has always wanted to rule, my father didn't even want to rule. Richard, Duke of York did what he had to do and though he was not the heir, we, the Lords, all knew what had to be done. England had to see peace, and as I was the Earl of March, I had a seat in Parliament." I looked at him intrigued. That's right, he was once the Earl of March.
"But, oh, she likes to think this is her country, but no, this is my country and Cecily Neville needs to know that at all times."
"I don't like her either Papa." I said.
"Why?"
"Because she is mean to me."
"She is mean to all my children."
"But she is sweet to Edward, ******* Cousin John, ******* Cousin Kate, Margaret and Nedan."
"Yes, of course she is, she was close to her brother and in turn his daughters, especially Anne."
"That's not fair." I said.
"She's a fool," he said. "And I'd throw her out of this land if she weren't my Mother." We both laughed. But something ached at me that the last statement held more truth then he wanted to admit.
Years later as Queen, I would visit my elderly Grandmother with my children. She would live 'til the age of Ninety. Mine husband had not seized her riches and her Castle was decorated elaborately, yet in dull color as if she would die with every single thing she had ever owned; tattered, faded, chipped, broken or no.
Her limbs shook as she rose on a cane and offered my young Henry a sugared mint in affection I suppose.
"Did you ever love me?" I asked her. She did not reply but let her lips sink. She could still talk perfectly well.
I waited. "You're the Queen of England you've your people's love."
"But did YOU love me?" I asked. Again she would turn her face in cold shoulder and leaned on her cane more. It was dropped, I wanted a yes or a no, but would get neither. The rest of that day in 1493 would be spent dining with my Grandmother and my children exploring her House.
Cecily Neville's pride had made her bury all four of her sons before herself and she would die knowing it. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-Z8w1jpYlk IP: Logged |
whitewitch111
Knowflake Posts: 3860
From: Hillsboro, OR, USA
Registered: Jan 2013
|
posted November 18, 2017 11:49 PM
April, 1481Dicken did not attend the King's birthday celebration. But, he did send him a very expensive book from a very, very far away land that to this day nobody knows the name of.
Little Rich grabbed it and held it open. "What kind of letters are these?" He asked. Indeed the translations of all the languages were side by side, and it's original texts looked like scribbles. Nobody knew, but the King smiled at it's title in English. Sun Tzu's, the Art of War. King Edward, who was so obsessed with the battles and learning new styles of fighting, was delighted. IP: Logged | |
Lindaland
UBBFriend: Email This Page to Someone! 
