𝙪𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 | 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯

42. - THE LUCKY ONE

"And how are you certain she will be there? Her and her army?"

He cleared his throat. "I have had news, and the source is one that I trust. She is riding west to join forces with Jasper Tudor."

Elizabeth nodded, her heart heavy. "Just do whatever it takes to end this." She approached him, so that their noses were almost touching. "If one battle can bring peace to England, peace of mind, it is one worth fighting." She reached over to grasp his hands, but he pulled them back, pretending to busy them with the letter. Frowning, the blonde cleared her throat and continued, "And you will be back in no time."

Edward chuckled uneasily, dropping the missive down on the table. He poured himself a glass of wine, replying, "You have more faith in me than I ever had in myself."

"I remember meeting a fairly confident boy under an oak tree, some years ago." She grinned, reminding him of where it had all started, of the good times they had shared. If he was drifting away from her, she needed to pull him back — and what better way than to speak of their meeting, when he had seen her, a true English rose, and had become captivated by her?

But Edward did not take the bait. He did not even smile. He seemed lost in thought for a few seconds, and she thought she saw the ghost of grin appear on his lips, but it went away as quick as it had come. Her statement had not served to cheer him up, but Elizabeth was relieved — he had not completely forgotten the fire of desire she had ignited inside him.

"Anthony will guard you in the Tower. But you must stay here out of danger."

The queen considered that, and — raising an eyebrow — inquired, "And who will keep you out of danger?"

"Elizabeth, if something were to happen--"

She shook her head and moved close to him once more. "Do not!"

"There is a man in Flanders who will take you in. Your mother knows where to meet him. You must hide for awhile, 'til--" he faltered, but quickly cleared his throat and forged on. "Until Richard can gather an army and take back the throne. Once that is done, he will protect you, find the girls good husbands. I know he will; we have already spoken about it."

"Richard?" Elizabeth huffed, and though it galled her to say it, went on, "What about ... George?"

"I have signed an attainder, barring him from ever taking the throne." Edward replied quietly. "My closest advisors have been informed, as has Richard, and now, you. But listen to me, Elizabeth--"

"Edward--!"

"Listen to me!" he insisted. "No one can know about the attainder; no one! Especially not George! If he finds out, only the Lord knows what he will do, and I cannot afford him pulling his men away from the army. Our numbers are already reduced. We need him for now."

"An attainder?" she breathed, hardly able to believe it. It was almost too good to be true. "Can it ever be reversed?"

He shook his head. "Only by the sovereign, and I am not inclined to ever let him be crowned. He has already shown a taste for power, and often, people like that are prone to mishandling it. Better Richard be king, if I fall on the battlefield."

Elizabeth hesitated. "But what about the girls? Lizzie? She could be--"

He cut her off. "No, she could not. I love Lizzie, as I love Mary and Cecily, but they could never sit on the throne. England has already seen a queen regnant in Empress Matilda, and she has not been a good example. The lords would never respect Lizzie, would try to rule through her, if anything. No ... Richard is by far the best choice in our current circumstances."