YORK SUCCESOR
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October 1460, Pembroke
Just a few weeks after Grace had arrived at Pembroke, a messenger came in the early hours of the morning. Her uncle had accepted him, and the man left soon after. It was a message that carried death. She could still remember the look on Ned's face when he was given the letter. When he found out his grandfather was dead and he was now the Duke of Buckingham.
He left a few days later to take over command of his grandfather's men. At thirteen years old, he would ride into battle. It was an image that Grace could not connect with him. He was tall, but he was still so skinny and young and she did not know how he would be able to lift a sword or don have armor. When he rode from the gates and out of her sight, she could not help but feel afraid.
Months later, that fear did not disappear, though it was dulled by the sense of safety her uncle's estate provided.
It was not long after Ned left Pembroke that new reached the castle of the Duke of York taking London. He had claimed himself the rightful King of England, stronger than her father's. According to him, that made him the true ruler. Grace had raged for hours on end, pacing the length of her room and shouting complaints and profanities and everything else there was to shout. Her father was anointed by God himself! If he were not the true ruler, surely he would have never sat on the throne!
But a voice whispered at the back of her head, that God had perhaps changed his mind. Because the Duke had taken London, and whether Grace liked to admit it or not, her father was not fit to be King anymore. She thought back to the Rout, to the terror that her father had allowed unleashed. She wondered if his state of mind had worsened once more, for it was entirely a possibility.
Many sleepless nights had followed. Hours spent with her eyes trained at the ceiling above her, thinking about the future and the past alike. When she did eventually fall asleep in the early hours of the morning, she was plagued by nightmares of the Rout. Rest was hard to come by due to them, and so she was not surprised when she fell asleep in an armchair, curled up into a ball.
Her uncle woke her, a brow raised questioningly at her. She was supposed to be at her lessons, she realized when she looked from the window and saw that the sun was close to its apex in the sky. A sheepish smile found its way onto her lips, and her Uncle Jasper rolled his eyes with a chuckle.
When she looked up at Jasper properly again, the smile was gone and he looked rather distraught. Grace's brows furrowed, gaze falling down to the crumpled up letter in his hand. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and he looked utterly worn out. It was no wonder, she thought, with everything that was going on. Still, worry filled her as Jasper sighed heavily.
"The Parliament had voted for your father to remain King," Jasper told her. Instantly, relief flooded her and she let out a laugh. That was all she could have hoped for! Her father remained the King and she would be safe, as would her mother and half brother. She was about to stand and embrace Jasper tightly, when she realized the grim look on his face did not leave.
"What is it?" she asked quickly, and Jasper pursed his lips.
"They have also agreed," he paused to inhale slowly, fidgeting with the sleeve of his doublet. "that the Duke of York is to succeed your father should he die, not young Edward." Grace blinked up at him wondering if she was merely hearing things. No, that could not be true. Her half brother was innocent of any crime! There was no reason for him to be disinherited! The floor spun beneath her and Grace was glad to be sitting down. She gripped the armrests of the chair until her fingers turned white.
"But the Duke is older than my father!" she exclaimed with a shake of her head. "For him to be the heir... it does not make sense, Jasper! And what of my brother?" Jasper shrugged slowly with pursed lips, opening the letter and reading over it as if seeing the words again would give him an answer to her question. Grace tore the letter from his hands, scanning it sentence by sentence herself until tears were gathering in her eyes. She bit her tongue to fight them off. "Damn them all to hell! I hope they all die, every single man who has betrayed my family!"
The letter hit the ground with a soft thud as she threw it down.
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The forest around her was nothing more than a green smudge as Cecily's horse galloped through it. The wind in her hair was the most freeing feeling, as was the movement of the horse's muscles beneath her. Cecily leaned forward slightly in the saddle, gripping the reins tightly in her gloved hands. Pembroke Castle was visible in front of her, and she knew she would be there in a matter of minutes.
The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, casting a white-gold glow over the land. Cecily had been surprised when she had been allowed to go riding all by herself, as long as she stayed on the land that belonged to Jasper Tudor. Lady Katherine herself had advocated against a guard coming with her, and Cecily had never been so relieved as when that had happened. The thought of being utterly alone in the woods with a man twice her size was horror-inducing.
Cecily had of course taken advantage of the horse that she had been given and went riding many times a week. Being alone with her thoughts had become less discomforting over the months, as her skin filled out and her bones became less visible and she didn't jerk in shock and fear whenever someone entered the room abruptly. Jasper Tudor was a kind man and respectful to her wishes, and she could not have been happier with the arrangements of her stay at his estate. She had her own chambers and servants that attended her and her only responsibility was spending time with the King's daughter as if she were her lady-in-waiting.
Cecily pulled at the reins to slow her horse into a walk as she got closer to the gate, waving at the guardsmen posted at the ramparts. One of the turned and called down into the courtyard for the gates to open. As soon as they did, Cecily nudged her horse forward and she rode in.
The stableboy had long learned not to offer her assistance unless she asked, and so he waited by the horse until she climbed off its back and then took the reins from her. With a thankful nod, she made her way inside of the castle. The halls were eerily quiet, save for the sound of shouting that came from the hall that led to Jasper Tudor's study. Cecily couldn't help but frown. She thought she recognised the voice to be Lady Katherine's. It had to of been her, as no other woman in the castle would have the nerve to raise her voice at her lord.
But Lady Katherine was not just another woman in the castle. In another life, she way have been Jasper Tudor's wife, from what Cecily had learned. The two of them had been betrothed when they were young, until Lady Katherine lay with the King and became his mistress. Once her father had disowned her and she held no dowry, there had been no point in pretending the rumours were indeed just rumours and not the truth.
It did not seem to matter to Jasper Tudor now, though, as the two of them often conversed as if they were old friends that had not seen each other in years. Perhaps they were. Perhaps the breaking of their betrothal had been the best.
Them shouting at each other was a strange thing, something Cecily had never heard or witnessed. She thought about making her way to the study to eavesdrop, but ultimately decide that was not a good idea and turned to go the opposite direction. She was going to go to her chambers, but out of one of the windows that looked out onto the garden she saw Grace's golden head hair. The girl was sitting in the grass with her cousin, Henry, next to her. The boy was pointing at something on the ground.
With a sigh, Cecily decided to go and join them. She picked up her skirts as she made her way down the stairs towards the door that led outside. When she found the two of them again, they had moved only a few meters away from their original spot and Henry was pointing at something again.
"Hello," Cecily greeted them, still slightly unsure of how to approach any conversation with the King's daughter even after months of being in her presence almost daily. Grace and Henry looked up simultaneously with grace smiling at her and Henry pursing his lips in the awkward greeting he always seemed to do. The boy would reach his fourth birthday soon, if Cecily remembered correctly. "What are you doing?"
"Henry is showing me the bugs he found," Grace answered, ruffling Henry's hair and eliciting a giggle from him. Cecily might have curled her nose at the thought if she had not done similar things at that age as well. Her mother had always been so exasperated when she turned up in her chambers with her gown covered in dirt and mud and with dry leaves in her hair. When asked, her father had never chastised her, only ever chuckling and ruffling her hair just as Grace had done with Henry mere moments ago. Cecily had to wonder if she did those things now and her father was there, if he would act the same. Something told her that he wouldn't.
"I see." Cecily shifted her weight on her feet awkwardly. She chewed at her lips for a moment. "Your mother and your uncle are arguing," she finally said, her curiosity taking over in that moment. Grace paused in the movement of her body, as if she was frozen over like a lake in the heart of winter. She looked down at Henry, but the boy was not paying attention to either one of them and instead parting the grass with his fingers in search of little critters.
"I know." Grace nodded. "It is why I took Henry outside. He would not understand even if I explained to him." Cecily tilted her head slightly in question and Grace grimaced. "Parliament has decided that my father will remain the King, but the Duke of York is to be named his heir."
Oh, that would definitely explain the argument then. Lady Katherine would no doubt be unhappy with this, as would Jasper. Cecily had to wonder if they were arguing about what to do, who to support. It did not matter, in the end they would support King Henry. He was Jasper's brother and Katherine's lover, of course they would. If that meant supporting Queen Margaret in battle, it was what they would do.
"Are you alright?" Cecily asked Grace, fully aware that this news would be stressful for her. It was rather distressing for Cecily as well. Despite the kindness the Queen had shown her after she had freed her, she would not hesitate to wage war on the Duke. Her son had been disinherited with now title given to him to appease her. Not that any mere title would do so, not in comparison to the Crown of England.
Grace smiled at her, though the action was very clearly forced. "I am fine," she answered, the muscles in her face far too tight for her words to be truthful. "Why wouldn't I be?" Cecily decided that furthering the conversation would not do any of them any good.
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