Sitting by the fire, a woollen blanket pulled snugly over her shoulders, Marian took another sip of wine as Sir Robert watched her with a knowing concern.
"Are you sure you would not prefer to stay the night, Marian?" He asked gently "I can have some rooms arranged for you right now"
"No, Robert" Marian replied, shaking her head "thank you but I am perfectly fine"
"That is a blatant lie" Robert pointed out
"It's not! I'm perfectly well and really should be heading back to Westminster" she put the goblet she was holding, down and laid the blanket out neatly on the chair before fetching her cloak "thank you, Sit Robert" she said, taking his hand as he rose to bow to her.
"What will you do?" He asked and she grimaced slightly in response, blinking furiously to push back the tears that flooded her eyes.
"I shall go on" she replied "A-as you know I cannot mourn my mother. The people think of her as evil and if I am seen to be mourning Margaret of Anjou then..."
"Then they may turn on you" Robert finished and Marian nodded.
"I will not put Richard's throne nor my children's positions at risk...I will simply have to go on. Perhaps in private I will be given some time for sorrow but other than that I must carry on as normal, perhaps even have to partake in the celebrations which are sure to come once the news leaks out that The Bad Queen is dead"
Brackenbury offered the Queen a small smile before bowing and kissing her hand. Marian nodded in acknowledgement and left the room, headed out into the cold air of the night.
The icy wind hit Marian like a slap in the face and in an instant all her sense were on alert as she tried to make out where the horses were waiting for her and at last her eyes focused on a swirl of blue and murrey liveries. The men were all gathered round something, calling frantically to each other and Marian immediately rushed over to them.
When some of the men saw her approaching, they tried to shield her from whatever the others were staring at but Marian pushed through.
"Your grace!" One called "tis not safe!"
The Queen gasped when she discovered what they had all been huddled around, one of the men was lying on the grass, shaking and although it was dark the beads of sweat on his reddened forehead were clear for all to see.
"Sweet Jesus, what happened to him?" She cried
"He's been off for two or so days, your grace" one of the young soldiers "at first we thought it was just a cold b-but..."
"It's a fever!" Another blurted out and Marian turned to where the voice had called out
"Then by God get him inside!" She ordered. The men were quick to obey, lifting him from the ground and carrying him into one of the tower's surrounding buildings, yet another one of them calling out for a physician.
"Come, your grace" Marian spun round again to see Sir Robert holding the reins of two horses, a frown etched onto his face "we must leave"
The Queen nodded and in an instant was in the saddle, giving her horse a firm nudge and feeling a rush of relief as the animal surged forward, Sir Robert beside her.
The pair raced through the streets of London, hardly pausing for breath until they reached the gates of Westminster Palace.
"Who goes there?" A harsh voice called down to them from the battlements. Marian threw back her hood, glared upwards, towards the place where she believed the guard to be.
"Your Queen, Marian Plantagenet and her loyal friend Sir Robert Brackenbury"
As usual when she called out her name and position, a started gasp could be heard from above and the Queen could not help but grin to herself.
"Your grace" the guard's voice said "open the gates for the Queen of England!" He then yelled and with a creak the gates swung back, allowing the two travellers entry to the palace.
They trotted into the courtyard and immediately swung down from the saddle.
"Thank you, Robert" Marian said as she handed her reins to Brackenbury and gave him a small smile before heading into the palace.
Servants and courtiers bowed and curtsied as she passed but she payed no attention to them, simply walked by, her only thoughts being on her mother and getting to her room.
"Mama! Mama!" The exuberant cries of her twin boys made Marian halt and she turned to greet them, found herself laughing as she saw them galloping down the corridor towards her carrying wooden swords and shields.
"Oh, mes chèris! Shouldn't you be in bed? Tis nigh on 10 I believe!"
"Lizzie let us stay up!" Ned answered, grinning from ear to ear.
"Yes!" Dickon confirmed "she said it was a treat for our good behaviour! We took our medicine with no fuss!" The little boy's face suddenly darkened slightly as he let out a small sneeze and he lowered his sword, peering up at this mother through a tumble of dark curls "y-you're not going to send us to bed, are you mama?"
Marian grinned, reached out and ruffled his hair playfully.
"No. You may stay up for another half hour or so, but then I expect you to retire" she said and her sons began to beam again
"Thank you mama!" Ned cried in glee before he and Dickon wrapped their arms around their mother "now!" He continued, drawing back from the embrace "come along, Dickon! We have a dragon to slay!"
Dickon immediately squealed in delight and after smiling at his mother one last time, he scampered off after his twin, holding his sword high up into the air.
"I shall defeat it!" He shouted "I shall!"
Marian watched with a small smile on her face but the expression quickly faded as she suddenly recalled running down the halls of Westminster with Ed and how their father would smile as they passed and their mother would chide them both...but of course the very next day Ed would convince his sister to do it again...
The Queen sighed, they were all dead now. All dead and gone. She was the only one left and she would never see them again in this life, but would never forget their faces no matter how hard she wished she could.
When she finally reached her chambers she was in a saddened state and as she pushed open the door she walked in without a word, lay down on the bed and curled up like she used to do as a child when she was sad or scared.
At once, Richard, who had been reading by the fire, was at her side and looking down at her with concern.
"My love?" He asked gently "whatever is the matter? Did that woman try to hurt you again"
Marian shot up from the covers, tears blurring her vision and her voice breaking slightly
"She's dead!" She cried "she's dead, Richard"
The King stood stock still, not knowing how to react though his expression was a flurry of emotions.
Margaret of Anjou was dead. The woman that had forced him and his brother into exile when he was just a small boy of eight, the woman who had a hand in the murder of his father and brother, the woman who had allied with Warwick and helped to drive Edward from his rightful throne.
He should be rejoicing at her death, should be ordering for the bells to ring out and for the people to celebrate far into the night. But as he looked at Marian, his love, his life, and saw the pain inside of her that contorted her expression to one of utter desolation...he found no joy, no happiness. Only pity for his wife.
He sat on the bed and scooped her into his arms, pulling her onto his lap as she snuggled into his chest, now sobbing. He didn't speak, could not find the words of comfort he knew he should be giving for they would not be genuine and Marian knew that. So, instead he simply held her close to him, not letting go, allowing her to sob into the early hours of the morning while her rubbed her back and stroked her hair, until she fell into a deep sleep and he tucked her beneath the heavy covers, wrapping his arms around her body when he slid in beside her.
༒༒༒
The next morning, Marian sat by the fire in her chambers, Lizzie was sitting opposite her, working on yet another piece of embroidery but was hardly completing any of her work as she kept glancing up at her Aunt.
The Queen stared into the flames, had not spoken a word all morning to anyone, simply plucked at the fabric of her azure damask gown or played with the black ribbons she had artfully weaved into her hair.
The breakfast that Richard had had sent to her rooms lay untouched and, by now, almost stone cold on the small oak side table next to her chair.
"You really should eat a little something, Marian" Lizzie encouraged "I shall go and ask for some oranges perhaps? You always like..."
"No Lizzie" the Queen replied gently as her niece began to rise but promptly sat back down, a defeated look on her face "I do not feel like eating..."
By the time the evening feast came around, Marian was acting rather like her normal jolly self at the high table (as she told Robert she would) but she hardly ate a thing, even though Richard did everything in his power (even ordering her as her king and husband at one point) to coax her into eating. She shook her head each time and proclaimed (with a smile on her face to keep up appearances) that she 'did not feel like eating' just has she had done that morning before turning away to cough into a handkerchief.
That night was a fretful one, neither the King nor Queen got any sleep. Marian because her coughing had worsened and she began to feel constantly too hot under the covers of the bed, despite the room being of a rather icy temperature and Richard because he was too busy worrying about his wife.
The next morning, he refused to let anyone come into their chambers, decided to speak to Marian while he still had the chance to.
"You should stay in bed, sweetling" he cooed gently, as he brushed a stray piece of hair back from her pale face. She shook her head
"No, Richard...I must go on"
"But you are not well, Mari!" He protested "please stay in bed for the day! Then I am sure this cold of yours shall clear up!"
"No" Marian said again, rising from the bed and stumbling over to one of her chests, pulling out her clothes for the day and quickly slipping into them before Richard could prevent her. "I am determined to carry on, my love!" She asserted "I'm not ill...simply grieving is all...I shall be right as rain soon!"
Richard sighed in defeat and nodded (though he was not convinced by her attempted reassurance) and reluctantly rose, heading to one of the adjoining chambers to dress.
Marian spent much of that day as she did the last, sitting by her fire and refusing to eat. At midday Lizzie at last managed to get a small bowl of soup into her but she refused all else, complaining that the smell made her feel sick. Though one thing she did consume was drink, commanded huge jugs of watered down ale and wine to be brought to her at the same time she ordered for the windows in her room to be thrown open by her niece as she felt as if she would bake in her gown if the cold April air was denied entry to the chamber any longer. Still, she did not cool down and her thirst was not quenched, no matter how many goblets of ale or wine she drank, nothing would soothe her parched, sore throat.
By evening her head felt like it would split in two and her body felt like it would melt if she got even one degree hotter. But still, she pressed on. Both Lizzie and Cecily told her it was not wise to carry on as normal, that this was not grief she was suffering from, it was an illness and both girls suggested at least twice that they should call for the royal physician.
Marian waved them off with a trembling hand and sat stoically still as her nieces hesitantly readied her for the evening feast, casting worried glances at one another each time the Queen coughed.
As Marian sat on her throne next to her husband, the room was all a blur. She stared on ahead, determined to see the feast through as the jovial music became muffled and the courtiers bright garments all swirled into a cloud of silks and satins. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as the gilded walls began to close in around her.
She saw Richard turn to her, saw his mouth move but she did not hear anything nor could she bring herself to reply and watched as the King's expression twisted into one of sudden alarm. Then he was saying her name (that much Marian could tell) and she suddenly felt as if her lungs were starved of air and she turned away to cough...but the coughing didn't stop, she couldn't breathe. Turning back to her husband, handkerchief pressed firmly over her mouth, she grabbed onto his arm as her body shook and her eyes filled with a look of terror.
'No!' She though in desperation as she tried to fight the fit of coughing that was threatening to overwhelm her 'I will not let this defeat me' but it was no use and as her vision began to darken she clutched onto Richard's arm even tighter, consciousness slipping away from her. 'My love' she thought and then the world went black as her body finally gave out and the Queen of England fell from her throne.
༒༒༒
Pacing relentlessly back and forth outside the Queen's rooms, Richard wiped away another tear which had been allowed to slide unchecked down his pale cheek.
It had been three days. Three damn days since Marian had fallen from her throne, had been carried by him and Rob to her chambers, Lizzie and Cecily tightly holding the children as they all sobbed. They had lain her on the bed, the royal physician had been called for and that had been the last time he had seen Marian as the physician and his troupe had forbade anyone to enter the chambers until the Queen was either better...or dead.
It was an unidentifiable fever they said, and it was bad. Marian had one of the worst bouts they had ever seen and her cries of agonised delirium could be heard from time to time, making all in earshot flinch and immediately cross themselves, praying to the Lord that he should spare their Queen.
Richard had hardly slept, was either pacing outside his wife's door, waiting anxiously for even a small scrap of news, or he was with the children, trying to comfort them in this time of immense grief. They would not be happy again for some time.
Now on the third day, the King had dark circles under his eyes and his mouth was constantly set in a scowl. He snapped at anyone who spoke to him, even Lizzie who came constantly to enquire after her Aunt's health and try to comfort Richard as best she could. But it was no use, he was inconsolable.
Rob was leaning against the hallway wall, watching as his friend paced back and forth.
"Richard" he said "you need to rest. You shall collapse from exhaustion if you keep this up!"
"I will not rest" the King immediately shot back "not until Mari is well again. And she will be, Rob. She will be" Rob sighed in defeat, stared up at the ceiling. Richard suddenly halted, slid down onto, and stared at, the floor "I can't loose her" he whispered, voice breaking as more tears began to flood his eyes again "I have already lost so much this day...if Mari is taken from me...I will not be able to go on...truly I shall not, Rob"
His voice by now had softened and his friend pushed himself from the wall, went to sit beside him and laid a hand gently on his arm. He could think of nothing to say and so the pair simply sat in silence until the sound of a key turning in a lock was heard and they immediately sprang up.
The doors to the Queen's chambers swung open and the royal physician slowly walked out, bowing as he reached the King and removing his hat and pressing it against his chest.
"Well?" Richard demanded. The physician shook his head, raised his eyes to meet the anxious blue ones of his King.
"I'm sorry, your grace" he said slowly "the Queen...the Queen is not going to live..."
"No" Richard whispered, shook his head vehemently then felt a strong pair of hands on his arm and realised that in his shock, his legs had given way and Rob was now easing him down to the floor. "No" he repeated, louder this time "no! I cannot lose her! She cannot be taken from me!"
"I'm sorry, your grace" the physician said once more and stepped aside, gesturing for the King to go into the chamber, offering a small, sympathetic smile "but the last rites have been said and it is time for you to say goodbye"
༒༒༒
Stumbling slightly as he walked through the doors, Richard was immediately hit with the overwhelming smell of burning incense that set his senses reeling and he momentarily stared around, stunned, before looking towards the large state bed.
There she was.
Marian Plantagenet. Daughter of Lancaster, Princess of the realm, Fugitive from the crown , Prisoner of war, Lady in waiting, Countess of Salisbury, Duchess of Gloucester...Queen of England.
Dressed in a plain nightgown, her hair brushed and laid neatly on either side of her. Her eyes were closed and if it were not for the beads of sweat that kept appearing on her forehead and trickling slowly down her face while her body involuntarily twitched every so often, it may be thought that she was simply in a deep sleep.
The numerous physicians and attendants filed out, closing the door behind them, leaving the King and Queen alone. He immediately rushed to her side, grabbing one of her hands from where it lay on the coverlet and planting desperate kisses on her fingers.
Marian's body twitched a little again and then her eyes slowly flickered open. A soft smile appeared on her face.
"Oh, my Richard" she whispered hoarsely
"That's right, Mari" he replied "I'm right here and I shall not leave you, not until you get better"
Marian shook her head a little, looked up at the canopy of her bed.
"No, my love" she croaked "They tell me I am not to get better...performed the last rites..." she paused, took a ragged breath "I-I'm dying, Richard...a-and I need you to do something for me..."
The King held her hand tighter, tried to control the tremor in his voice as he spoke,
"Whatever you want shall be done but we need not even speak on the subject as you shall live"
"No, Richard" Marian immediately replied, shaking her head again and slowly turning it to look at him though the action obviously caused her great pain and she grimaced "no, my love... I'm dying and there is no point in denying it...I need you to listen to me...please..."
Richard let out a small sob then bowed his head
"Oh, Mari" he whispered "w-what is it you wish to be done?"
"I want you to re-marry after my death" she ordered quietly and his head instantly shot up, a sudden fire now blazing in his previously forlorn eyes.
"Never!" He protested "I shall never remarry! Never never never! I love you, Marian! I always shall! I will take no other wife. I will not forsake you for another"
The Queen coughed, grimaced a second time as she brought her free hand up to her chest before letting it drop onto the bed.
"Do it for the children" she whispered and again Richard shook his head, but Marian continued "they...they need a mother, Richard"
"You are there mother!" He yelled in desperation "you always will be their mother!"
"Not when I am gone...please, Richard... remarry...give our children a new mother...give England a new Queen" she began to cough again and the King brought forth a handkerchief, gently holding it to her mouth until the fit had subsided and she resumed the shallow breaths she had been taking "promise me" she said, squeezing his hand "promise me you will do this"
Richard began to sob again, his whole body shaking as he reluctantly nodded.
"For you, Mari" he said "for you"
Marian sighed, turned her head up to the canopy again.
"I love you so much, Richard...thank you for making me so happy"
"No" he protested "do not leave me! Please, God have mercy do not leave me!"
"Thank you Richard" She continued "for giving me our 7 beautiful children, for filling my life with joy...you have been the love of my life... but now it seems we must be parted"
"No...sweet Jesus have mercy...no..."
"Tell the children that I love them...tell them that I'm sorry...so very sorry..." by now Marian had begun to cry and well and spoke in between stifled sobs of agony and grief "don't let them forget me Richard..."
"Never" he replied with determination "never shall they forget you"
"Oh, my dearest love" she whispered, turning her head again and gently detaching her hand from his to place it against his cheek, wiping away the tears that were streaming down his face "do not weep for me...do not mourn...we have had such a happy life together...do not weep for me... celebrate my years... remember me as I was, my love, not as I am now" she took a breath, beginning to feel her body fail her and her mind begin to panic "my time draws near, mon coeur...give my love to Anne...to all of our friends...tell them that I'm sorry...and Richard?"
The King raised his head.
"Yes, ma belle?" He whispered
"Know...know that I shall always be with you...even if you cannot see me I will always be here" she dropped her hand from his cheek, gently pressed it against his doublet so that she could feel his heartbeat beneath it, it was racing. "I will always be with you, Richard...and with our children, watching over them"
Her vision began to darken slightly and she felt the panic rise in her more and more with each passing second.
"I'm sorry" she wept, taking Richard's hand again "I'm sorry I'm not stronger...I wanted so much to beat this sickness...was so determined...but I have been defeated..."
"You are not weak" Richard replied, squeezing her hand "you are the strongest woman I have ever known"
Marian smiled through her tears, laughing one last time.
"Oh my own dear heart" she said "my Richard... the truest of loves and the most ardent of lovers...how grateful I am to have had you all these years"
She smiled softly; then her eyes began to close...slowly...slowly...and she took one last ragged breath...before she gradually expelled the air from her lungs and her hand went limp in the King's grasp.