𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑 || 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑬𝑵

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑋𝑋𝑉

~The Devil's Brood~

Catherine awoke the next morning as the sun streaming through the windows struck the soft skin of her face. Margery had already arisen and was padding about the bedchamber in her soft silk slippers, laying out a gown of sage green brocade with a golden girdle to match.

She smiled when she saw her young Mistress was awake, curtsying before she gave her a small cup of wine to sate her parched throat. Catherine blinked, adjusting her mind to the day as she took in the eerie silence around her.

"Strange" She murmured, sipping slowly on her drink. "I could've sworn I heard crying last night"
"Crying?" Margery repeated, smoothing out the skirt of her gown before helping her lady from the bed, pulling her nightgown over her head to replace it with a fresh shift "Nay, my friend, it must have been the wind!"

One look at the outside told Catherine it was not so. The previous day had been calm, the night too and now the morning was as calm as a sleeping babe. It could not be the wind. So what had it been?

Stretching out her arms, she let her green gown be guided over her head, tightly laced and her hair gathered in a caul adorned with rubies. Margery placed the girdle around her waist, fastening it before she slid Catherine's stockings onto her slim legs, tying the silk garters with nimble fingers.

The Duchess kept a small frown on her face. The quiet that surrounded her chamber was unusual for a morning, for any morning, not just one of travel. Walking to the window, she could see her horse was prepared, the guards standing to attention to await her arrival. But there was one thing awry, one soul missing.

"Where is my husband?"

Margery shuffled behind her, her breath catching in her throat at the question.
"He rode on" She murmured quietly "Alone, before dawn"

"Rode on?" Catherine echoed, striding away from the window in confusion "Rode on?" She repeated, more to herself than to Margery who simply watched her pace up and down the bedchamber. Richard could not have left! He would not abandon her, not when they were so close to Middleham, the place they had agreed to go for their benefit.

Why would he have gone? Surely he would've come to say goodbye, told her why he had to leave! To leave without explanation would only cause her to worry, he knew that! He had always known that "Did he say why?" She demanded, reaching for the thin summer cloak draped over the end of her bed.

Margery shook her head, helping to fasten the golden clasp before her lady walked from the chamber, striding down the inn stairs. She almost jumped down the last few, ignoring the bows and curtsies, the incessant stares that stalked her through the dining chamber. Her friend followed quickly behind, trying to keep up as they walked into the light of the courtyard.