March 1484
Ned, Maggie, Nora, Arthur, Teddy, Bella and Kathryn, the young children of York ran together across the castle. Bella and Teddy helped Kathryn run with them, swinging her around every so often to compensate for her smaller legs.
"Kathryn, Bella! Maggie! Teddy!" Anne scolded them, but the children ran off anyway, ignoring her.
Ned, Richard's and Anne's son, was trailing behind them, his wooden sword raised in the air, when his mother spotted them.
Before her own son could get away, Anne grabbed Ned by the arm he used to hold his wooden sword.
"Edward!" She exclaimed, frowning when she noticed that her son was only wearing his underclothes. "Where are your clothes?!"
"I'm hot," the boy said simply, shrugging his shoulders.
Alarmed, Anne placed her hands on both sides of her only son's neck, immediately feeling how hot he was. "You're burning up," she stated and grabbed her son by the hand, to lead him back to his room where she could nurse him back to health. "You must be put to bed at once."
"No! Lady Mother, please! I want to keep playing with my cousins," Ned whined, detesting the way his mother babied him.
"Anne?" A voice called out and Anne turned her head, watching as Richard, Charlotte and Edmund walked toward her together.
"Ned has another fever," Anne informed her husband, sister and nephew calmly.
"He's just been running around," Richard assured Anne, not seeing it as a big deal, unlike his wife.
Glad that his father had taken his side, Ned ran off to find his cousins.
Anne sighed in defeat as she watched her only son run away from her.
"My spies tell me that Henry Tudor's declared that he is King of England and announced his betrothal to Caitlin," Richard informed Anne, who turned to face them with a shocked look.
"What?" She asked, letting out a small gasp.
"He claims that in my sister, he will unite Lancaster. That he'll marry their son to Kathryn and unite York and Lancaster in one, in the House of Tudor. The deaths of my younger brothers has only made him bolder and now he will invade the very first moment he can," Edmund explained, trying to contain his anger. "Of course, my daughter will marry no son of his and when my son is born, he will be the one who becomes King."
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Edmund held his wife as she slept. Her nose was pressed against his chest, snuggled into him. It was a restless sleep, but it was a sleep. She had cried herself into this state after feeling blood soak up her skirt.
Edmund held her close, burying his face in her hair. He could not stand how often he heard his wife cry. He could not stand all the pain his family was being put through.
He just wanted his family to be safe and happy. He wanted his children to live past their mother's womb, he wanted Kathryn to have siblings. He wanted Lily to be able to marry Dickon and to have children of her own. He wished for his mother to heal from the pain caused by the murder of his brothers and his father's death.
He began to pray.
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"The York girls are arriving!" The guards announced loudly and Edmund looked at Bess before they both headed outside. Given that her parents and his mother were dealing with their younger siblings and Lily was off somewhere with Dickon, it fell to them to greet them.
They walked out onto the courtyard, joined by Bella — who seemingly appeared out of nowhere and immediately demanded Edmund carry her. Edmund did so, taking her into his arms and walked forwards, wearing his crown.
Lizzie, Cecily and Nan watched him closely as they stepped out of their carriage.
"Please remain calm," Lizzie warned Cecily through a tight-lipped smile as Edmund made his way over to them. "Nan, stay close to us."
The youngest girl smiled and nodded, while Cecily scoffed, turning to give her older sister an annoyed look.
Edmund stopped when he was standing in front of them. He smiled politely, bowing his head to them. "My ladies," he greeted them and the girls curtsied to their eldest brother. "Shall I escort you to your new rooms?
"Now, Nan will be in the nursery and take her lessons with Nora. She'll have...she'll have Arthur's old rooms," Bess said softly as the walked down the hallways. "You will share a room next to mine and Caitlin's. The original plan was for you both to serve Megan, but instead, Lizzie will be with me and Cecily with Caitlin... You'll be more companions than ladies-in-waiting, Aunt Charlotte didn't see the need for the both of you to act as our ladies. We have our maids to help us, in any case."
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Charlotte looked at herself in the mirror, allowing a few tears to fall. In less than one month, it would have been a year since Edward died. It would be a year since she last heard his laugh and felt his lips upon her own. It would be a year since they had been safe.
Wiping her tears away, she started removing her jewelry. First, her earrings went into their small box and then her bracelets went into their meshed bags.
With a lump forming on her throat, she removes the golden chain from her neck, pressing her finger to every inch of the rings before she finally places it down.
When the time came for her to remove her rings, more tears slipped from her eyes. She was wearing the ring she had married Edward with. And, in her other hand, was a ring he had given her after Bella was born. He'd been so gentle then, so worried for her.
"You have to be careful with Mama and the new babe," Edward says gently as he helps Arthur and Nora into the bed.
Edward then makes sure both their children are safely on the bed, before he sits on the edge as well. Charlotte adjusts her babe so Nora, who is closest to her, can see her. She blinks those too big eyes at her big sister.
"What's her name?" Nora asks quietly.
Charlotte smiles at her, and then over her dark curls at Edward.
They had been discussing names for several months. And, they had not managed to agree in any of them. They had ended up deciding to name the child after their aunt or uncle. Yet, here she was and she was still nameless. Of course, Edward already had a daughter named Elizabeth and his little Margaret had died at a few months old. But, there was still Anne for both their sisters or Ursula, for his sister who had died young.
Edward had frowned a bit at that.
And Charlotte understood. He would not push her into naming their daughter after Eliza or Margaret, not when he already had daughters with those names by Elizabeth. But, he was also reluctant to name his daughter for the sister who had died in the cradle or for Anne, when their relationship had been so tense when she died.
Such thoughts are delayed by a banging on the door followed by a shrill cry. "You will wait for me, Princess," only Aimee can make the title princess sound quite so dismissive.
There is a young girl's shirk, and then Charlotte's second daughter runs in, followed by her brothers and sister.
"Mama, Aimee said it's a girl." Edmund says without preamble, leaning a knee on the bed, but not being able to throw his entire self on it because his mother and newborn sister were in the way.
The woman herself sighs as she rights herself from her own curtsy and walks up to her charge.
"What's her name?" Nora pipes up, crawling her way into Edward's lap and nestling herself against his chest.
"I'm sorry," Aimee says, pulling Lily away just a little. "All of them were very excited to see the new princess."
"The fact that you able to keep them away for this long is an accomplishment in and of itself," Edward assures her. Which is true. Four years ago, when the twins were born, they had been waiting for him, lined up and ready at the door of the nursery in order to meet their siblings.
"It is a girl," Charlotte told them, shifting again so that her eldest children could see the babe. "You have another little sister."
A precious gift, and a gift Charlotte knew all too well.
"Her eyes are like yours," Caitlin whispers and she nods.
"What's her name?" Arthur repeats his twin's question, and Charlotte smiles again.
"Isabella," says Edward.
Charlotte's "What?" is drowned out by six children assuring the King and Queen of England that they know their family history enough to recognize their aunt's name.
"It is nice to meet you, Little Bell," says Lily, as sweet as her name.
"Bell?" Asks William.
"No, Will. She's Isabella, not Bell," Edmund corrects.
"Little Bell," Arthur says, pointing at his sister. "Belle."
"You're right," Edward says, a grin growing on his face. "She's our little Belle. But, I thought we could call her Bella instead."
"Hi, Bella," Nora says, reaching out a hand to touch her soft head. Words and gestures are soon repeated by his siblings. The babe is effectively christened Bella. Charlotte just stares between her husband and the children before she is cut off by her own yawn.
Edward notices that, at least.
"Lily, Edmund," their attention is snapped to the father they are a little in awe of. "Why don't you go and find your uncle? I'm sure Richard will want to come. They'll want to come and see the Queen and our new princess."
Kisses and well wishes are shared for mother and babe, and then all of the children run off with Marie behind them.
"And please send in the nursemaid," he adds to Aimee's back.
"No," Charlotte calls right away. "Not yet."
Edward nods when Aimee turns to see what should she do.
He then looks at Charlotte, "are you not tired?"
"I can rest with..." she pauses, look down at her new daughter. "Bella, apparently."
Edward is on the verge of laughing at the look on her face. "Do you not like it? I rather enjoy the idea of calling her that."
Charlotte isn't sure, so she changes the subject. "It's more...Isabella wasn't the name we agreed to."
Edward frowns. A common enough sight, but normally harder to pin down right after one of his children is born. "Isn't it? You suggested it."
Now she frowns. Of course she hadn't, she knows a part of Edward never forgave George and Isabel for their betrayal and secret wedding. Much as Izzy might have simply been a pawn, it was hard for Edward to grasp that her sisters had been more sheltered than herself and that she truly had no idea she was betraying the crown.
"You said you'd wish I would consider family names, from our sisters."
She had, she remembers that. Yet, she had said that suggesting they name a girl after Anne, most likely.
But, she realizes, he knows how deep the pain from Isabel's death runs. He knows how she worried these past few months, how she feared it would be the end and that she'd leave her six children motherless, as Izzy left her two.
"Of course," she says.
And Princess Isabella of the House of York gets her name.
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In the music room, Richard sat in a large chair next to Edmund while all his other subjects stood near him, including Lily, Brackenbury, Lord Strange, Cecily, Lizzie and Bess.
Caitlin stood across from him, near the others who were playing instruments. She was playing the vielle, her eyes closed as she swayed with the melody.
In another hallway, Charlotte was putting Bella to sleep when she heard the vielle playing. She frowned, placing the covers over her daughter's sleeping body.
With that, she exited the room, beginning to walk in the direction of the music.
She suddenly stopped as Anne exited Ned's chambers, a confused look on her face. "It's nearly midnight, who is playing the vielle?"
In the music room, Richard stood up from his seat, making his way toward Caitlin. She immediately stopped playing when he was standing right in front of her. She looked up at him curiously, wondering what he was going to do.
Charlotte and Anne had entered at that moment, watching as Caitlin grabbed Richard's hand before they began to dance to the music being played by the musicians.
Numerous people gasped, exchanging shocked expressions with each other. It wasn't a dance meant for uncle and niece. In fact, Charlotte recognized the music very well, she and Edward had danced to it often at feasts.
Charlotte turned to Anne, an angry look on her face. "What does he think he's doing?" She asked her younger sister in a low growl. "Pulling something like this will cause a scandal."
The sisters glanced around, watching as numerous ladies and ladies whispered amongst themselves about the whole ordeal.
And that was why he was doing it. He needed a scandal. He needed for Tudor to think there was something going on. That there was a weakness in the York court.