𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗘𝗡'𝗦 𝗣𝗢𝗜𝗦𝗢𝗡 || 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗵𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗤𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻

2

"What is it?" she asked, folding her hands on her lap. Marge sighed, picking at the dry skin of her nails for a bit. Her lower lip was stuck out slightly, as it always was when she was contemplating something. Grace was about to ask the question again, tired of the continued silence between them when Marge finally decided to speak.

"Lord Warwick and Lord Salisbury will be visiting soon," she said, her voice tinged with a dire edge, as if that should mean something for Grace. She had heard of the men before, of course, her education vast despite her illegitimate status. And she wasn't ignorant either, fully aware of the obvious Yorkist relations the two men – father and son – bore.

"Why does it sound like I should be worried about that?" Grace asked, feeling anxiety bubble in the pit of her stomach. Marge raised her brow, as if it was the most obvious thing ever and Grace should already know. When she gave Marge an even more confused look, the girl's mouth fell open in surprise.

"Because of the Loveday contract!" she cried, and even then Grace did not know what she meant. Surely her presence in the Duke's household wouldn't anger them so much that she'd have to worry. "Are you telling me you don't know?" She shook her head. "The King wouldn't agree to handing you over without receiving something in return, so Lord Warwick's second daughter was given to him in exchange for you," Marge explained, and immediately Grace could feel a sense of dread falling atop her shoulders like a heavy cape. "It was insurance that you would not be hurt, Queen Margaret suggested it. I do not think Lord Warwick would be that upset if his daughter lived in London, but from what we've heard she's been put into Henry Percy's care."

And suddenly, Grace understood plenty. The Percys and the Nevilles had a long standing rivalry, it was a common matter in the court. One person stole another land, an altogether different man attacked someone's son, someone's men spent a little bit too much time in another's territory. And now, Lord Warwick's daughter was put into a Percy's care. It was clear warning, a threat that could be carried out even if Grace remained completely unharmed. Because Henry Percy was a cruel man, a known rapist and abuser. Whenever a battle was lost to him, the women of the other side could only pray.

Grace had been in the man's presence but twice in her life, and each time she had the urge to run from him. Even at a young age, she knew to never be in a room alone with him, to seek out her mother, father or stepmother if he was at court at all times. Because he wouldn't try anything then.

She could only clasp her hands together and pray for the girl whenever she got the chance, and perhaps allow herself to hope that her stepmother put a tight leash on him before he did anything that was irreversible.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

In an attempt to ease her mind, Grace found her way to the gardens of Ludlow. They were not the most grand affair, but the simplicity of them compared to the gardens of Westminster had a charm to itself altogether. There plenty of flowers that had begun to bloom, roses among them. A large array of briars lined the path she was walking along, ranging from white to red to yellow, and one colour that was something between all three.

Most of the petals were a pale pink colour, seeming almost buttery yellow in some places, but as Grace traced her finger up the soft form of it, the colouring deepened and the rose was tinged a much darker pink at the top. She couldn't resist the urge to pluck one, and so she carefully reached her hand into the bush to grip the thinnest stem she could find.

Somewhere to her left, she could hear Marge's excited screech and Edward's holler. The two of them often chased each other in the garden. Sometimes, Grace joined them, but after learning of the girl traded in her place, she could not find it in herself to have any sort of fun. She wondered if the moment Lord Warwick and his other two daughters stepped into Ludlow, would she feel such an immense guilt that she would not be able to stay in their presence, or would she manage to steel herself enough when faced with them.