𝙪𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙
twenty. — i'll be the light to guide you!
WHEN THE BELLS started tolling that morning, Melissa Woodville had not yet opened her eyes. The Londoners, however, had long since roused themselves for the excitement of a royal wedding, the king's promise of a grand celebration seared into their minds. The last time this vow had been made was the queen's coronation, and all of the city had benefited from the mirth, the gaiety, and — most importantly — the abundance of gold. Everyone knew the nobility got generous with their wealth whenever they celebrated an important event, and nothing was more important than a royal wedding, after all.
Melissa Woodville, too, was someone they knew. Not because she was the queen's sister — that fact barely even registered in the Londoners' minds. No, Melissa was well-known because of her generosity toward the commons. Not long ago, she had used her own money to buy out a property in the middle of the city, turning it into a safe-house of sorts for the poor, weak, and impoverished. Free meals were dealt, alongside clean clothes and shelter, and that simple act had earned her the hearts of many.
The local merchants delighted in her as well; her visits to the markets were numerous, and recent accompaniment from the Duke of Gloucester had earned them much business and advertisement. She was good for their livelihood, and to see her elevated so gratified them.
All in all, this wedding was one many had been looking forward to.
As servants poured out of the Palace of Westminster, handing out alms and garments sewn with the white boar of Gloucester and the silver falcon of Rockingham sat atop it, the bride was slowly roused, shaken awake by her faithful ladies-in-waiting.
"My lady? My lady. 'Tis time you woke."
Blue eyes opened, sleep prevalent in them. "Is today the day?"
"Yes, my lady." Joan Neville smiled, nudging her cousin Anne to retrieve the bowl of rosewater nearby.
The younger girl did so, and Melissa made short time of wetting her face with the fragrant water, dabbing the wetness away with a clean white cloth.
"Has my bath been prepared?"
"All ready, Lady Melissa." Eliza Tilney walked in, a wide smile on her face.
The red-head could not help but grin back at her, euphoria starting to spread throughout her body. Today was the day she would marry Richard. Richard!
"God, I never thought this day would come!" She marveled inwardly, heading to the adjacent chambers, where a bath of steaming hot water awaited her, scented with citrus oils and delicate flower petals. Settling herself in the wooden tub, she let her eyes close in bliss.
Years ago, during regularly made trips to the markets near Grafton Regis, village girls had taunted Melissa and her sisters for their unfortunate circumstances.
"You shall all die as old maids!" One of them had yelled out, causing little Catherine to lash out, biting the girl's hand like a wild dog. She had only been five years old, then, the Woodville predicament known to many who lived around them, and she had received a good bollocking for it, but Melissa had praised her in private. Now, not only did the red-head feel euphoric at her impending marriage to the one she believed she loved, but also smug, wondering where those girls were now.
"Nowhere," she murmured lightly. "They are nowhere."
"What was that, my lady?" Joan spoke up, her hands gently running through wet, darkened strands of Melissa's hair.
"Nothing, Joan." The soon-to-be duchess smiled. "Nothing at all."
The lady looked puzzled, but nodded nonetheless, picking up instead a bar of smooth, white soap. Imported from Castile, it was made of olive oil, and its usage made the skin rather soft and smooth. It was also a very rare commodity, and thus a reminder for Melissa, of the station she now occupied.
"Marchioness of Rockingham, soon-to-be Duchess of Gloucester." She thought to herself, accepting a goblet of the finest claret wine from Eliza, as Joan soaped up her hair.
"Are you excited, my lady?" Anne Neville inquired, coming forward with a box of sweetmeats.
"Very much so, Lady Anne." Melissa smiled, picking one of the sugared treats out of the container.
"It all seems so grand." The girl murmured wistfully. "And he loves you, too!"
"Indeed," the red-head acquiesced. "I am very fortunate. And I pray that you will be as well, Lady Anne."
"God helping," the Earl of Warwick's younger daughter nodded. Melissa was still wary of her, but she was a sweet girl; not an enemy, as Elizabeth had assumed.
"Your sister, I am told, is to marry the Duke of Clarence." She spoke out loud.
"Yes, Izzy is very pleased." Anne nodded.
"Well, I look forward to attending their wedding in the future." She smiled.
George's wedding, in reality, would not be for at least a year. Edward's grandstanding celebrations considered, two of such scale would be a brunt on the treasury that they could not afford, especially since Margaret of Anjou and her son were still out there. The Nevilles had grumbled, but a year of waiting would be a small price to pay for Isabel to become the Duchess of Clarence.
"'Tis time to get dressed, my lady." Eliza informed the soon-to-be duchess a few minutes later.
Melissa smiled at her thankfully and nodded, standing from the bath and letting the blonde wrap her in a towel. They led her back to the bedchambers, where Richard's mother and sisters were standing, Melissa's own sisters behind them.
"Ladies," the red-head smiled.
"Melissa," Duchess Cecily stepped forward almost immediately. "Look at you, child. You are just glowing."
"Of happiness? Almost certainly, duchess."
"Hm," the older woman hummed. "From this day forth, you may call me ... lady mother."
Melissa's eyes widened. "I-- of course, du- lady mother." She stammered, truly not having expected that.
"Good," Duchess Cecily smiled genuinely, before turning back to her daughters and the Woodville girls. "Come, let us get these preparations underway."
Eliza and Joan, who had already fetched the wedding dress, crafted with the most beautiful silk and lace Melissa had ever seen, came forth, handing it off to the duchesses.
"Beautiful." Duchess Elizabeth "Call me Bess!" marveled.
"'Tis good work." Meg agreed. "Nothing like that Burgundian nonsense."
"Oh, of course you would try and bring that up right now, of all times." Duchess Anne rolled her eyes.
Meg, who was still bitter about her impending marriage to Charles of Burgundy, reared herself for a retort, only to be summarily stopped by a sharp glare from her mother.
Next to Melissa, her sisters were helping her out of the towel, into a silken chemise.
"You are going to be so beautiful, Lissa." Catherine gushed.
"And you are so lucky!" Mary grinned. "The duke loves you so!"
"Thank you, girls." Melissa smiled at them as they pulled away, letting Richard's sisters help her into her wedding gown.
"Our brother," Bess began, starting at the laces. "Will hardly be able to breathe once he sees you in this."
"And he has been working himself up about it, too!" Meg giggled. "Why, last night, Ned to lock him up in the garderobe so he would stop pacing!"
"Truly?" Melissa grinned.
"Indeed, so." Duchess Anne — the only one of Richard's sisters with whom she had not had much interaction with — stated. "'Tis the most in love any of us have seen him. Though he was rather sweet on his nursemaid when he was younger." She teased.
"His nursemaid!?" Melissa exclaimed.
"Oh, yes!" Bess burst out laughing. "And she was French, too! Anais, was it not?"
"Anais, with the red hair and pretty hazel eyes." Meg sing-songed.
"Girls," Duchess Cecily chided, though there was no heat to it.
"Oh, 'tis all in good fun, mother." Duchess Anne waved her off. "Besides, she broke Richard's heart rather quickly."
"How so?" Melissa grinned.
"How else?" Meg tittered slyly. "By jumping into bed with Ned, of course."
The York ladies burst into a fit of raucous laughter, as though remembering fond memories. Melissa joined in with them, her sisters giggling along hesitantly, although Cate did not seem like she understood why they were laughing.
"Oh, enough of this, girls." Duchess Cecily rolled her eyes, though she too seemed reluctantly amused. Her daughters separated, still chuckling, letting the their mother have a good look at Richard's soon-to-be wife.
"Wonderful, my dear." She proclaimed. "Absolutely wonderful."
Looking at herself in the mirror, Melissa could not help but agree. This was the most magnificent she had ever looked; like a princess, even! And the fact that it was grander than any wedding Elizabeth had ever had made her feel guiltily smug.
"There is one thing missing, though." The dowager duchess commented, even as Joan began styling Melissa's hair with a silver circlet decorated with tiny white York roses.
Pulling out a jewelry box embellished with delicate carvings, she handed it over.
"What is this?" The red-head inquired, running her hands over the grooves and curves of the box.
"Consider it a wedding gift," the duchess commented, her tone uncharacteristically soft.
Smiling slightly, Melissa lifted the latch and opened it. Inside, there was a lozenge-shaped gold pendant, set with a large blue sapphire stone. Upon closer examination, the obverse bore a representation of the Trinity, including the Crucifixion of Jesus, bordered by the Latin inscription "Ecce Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi miserere nobis tetragramaton Ananyzapta."
"Behold the Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world. Have mercy upon us all." Melissa translated under her breath.
"'Tis a pendant, intended to prevent illnesses." The duchess sighed. "It was a gift from Richard's father."
Melissa's head snapped up in shock. "The late duke?"
"Yes," her future mother-in-law nodded. "Upon Anne's birth. It has a hollow interior, containing a fragment of holy cloth." Shaking herself out of a reverie, she added, "And it should aid you in childbirth, when the time comes. It certainly served me well."
"Duchess-- I mean, lady mother, I cannot accept this. 'Tis of incredible value."
"And that is why I am giving it to you." Duchess Cecily stated firmly.
"But your late husband..." Melissa faltered.
"Would want you to have it." She would not budge. "Had he been here, he would have been bursting with pride for Richard. Getting married in state, to the person he loves, is all my husband ever wanted for any of our children. Wear this today, and perhaps you may keep his spirit with you."
Melissa nodded slowly, letting the duchess clip the pendant around her neck. It settled nicely above her dress, the gold contrasting against the shimmering fabric.
"Now, you are perfect."
"Thank you, lady mother." Melissa stressed emphatically, reaching over to squeeze Cecily's hands with emotion.
She tried not to think of where her actual mother was, likely helping Elizabeth get dressed, so they could head to the abbey before Melissa's own procession.
"Shall we go, then?" She turned to smile at everyone in the room; Richard's family and her own.
"Lead the way." Meg beamed, and off they went.
THE CHEERS WERE deafening. That was all Melissa could think of, sat astride her trusty white palfrey, Alys. People lined the streets, screaming their throats out, extending their hands in an effort to touch even just one member of the wedding procession as they made their way from the palace to Westminster Abbey.
If she were to close her eyes, Melissa could almost believe she was in the middle of a revel; but it was all so magical, she did not want to. The sun was shining bright on that morning, the rays casting an almost ethereal glow on the dress she wore. People screamed her name, "Melissa! Melissa!", and lunged left and right, scrambling to pick up the gold coins she threw their way. On that day, her wedding day, the best day of her life, she truly felt like a queen in her own right, and she had not even seen her groom yet.
Behind her, rode Richard's three sisters, and three of her own: Cate, Mary, and Anne. The latter had been outfitted splendidly at Melissa's own cost, and were marveling at the state of their attire while beaming and waving at the screaming crowd. Though she was closest to Cate, due to having taken the younger girl under her care, Melissa was grateful for Mary and Anne's presence. Mary was the sister closest to her in age, and while Anne — at twenty-seven — was much older than she, she had been far more supportive than Elizabeth had ever been. The three of them, as well as Richard's sisters, functioned as Melissa's maids (or matrons) of honor.
Those behind her hardly registered in the red-head's mind, however, as she seemed to drift into a haze of sorts, a grin permanently etched on her face.
"Who would have thought?" She pondered dazedly, catching a white rose someone threw her way by its stem. "Me, Melissa, wed to the king's brother? A royal duchess?"
It almost seemed unreal, like she was having an out of body experience. Making their way through the streets of London, she still felt as though she were in a dream, like she might wake up at any moment.
"Melissa," a voice crooned in her ear. "Melissa!"
Her head snapped up. In the crowd, amongst the people they were riding past, stood a beautiful young woman in a teal dress, her head averted to the ground. Her hair — as red as the embers in a fire — spilled out onto her shoulders, almost down to her very elbows. At first, she was expressionless, but then — all of a sudden — she looked up, and her lips broke into a smirk.
"Melusina!" The name spilled out of Melissa's lips, almost unbidden.
Her ancestress smiled mysteriously, and sang, "Duchess, duchess, crowned through fate. Sorceress, oracle, destined to be great!"
Melissa huffed in shock, her grip on the white rose slackening. As it fell to the ground, trampled beneath Alys' hooves, she blinked, and when her eyes opened once more, Melusina was gone. It was as though she had never been there, and the people she had stood next to had not noticed her disappearance.
"Duchess, duchess, crowned through fate." Echoed in her mind, for the rest of the procession. "Sorceress, oracle, destined to be great!"
"Duchess, duchess, crowned through fate. Sorceress, oracle, destined to be great!"
"Duchess, duchess, crowned through fate. Sorceress, oracle, destined to be great!"
"Duchess, duchess--"
"Melissa?"
The marchioness exhaled all of a sudden, feeling as though she had not breathed since she saw her ancestress. Turning her attention to where the voice had come from, she spotted her father, arms outstretched in front of her horse, waiting to help her dismount.
"Father," the girl managed, a smile coming on her face.
"Do you fare well?"
"Yes, father." She replied, as he lifted her off Alys. "I feel wonderful."
"And you look it." He smiled sincerely, his eyes taking on a suspicious shine. "My girl, getting married ... I rue it, having to give you up to another man."
"Oh, you must not worry, father!" She laughed. "For Richard is good to me, and I love him!"
"'Tis a parent's job to worry, Melissa." The baron chuckled wryly, kneeling down to remove her shoes. "But it soothes me, that out of these York brothers, you are to marry the one who is said to be the most like his father; honorable and just, to a fault."
"I thought you hated the Duke of York, father." She teased.
"I may have come to see things your way." He admitted sheepishly. "Perhaps he was not completely a scoundrel."
"Oh, papa!" She burst out laughing, hugging him tightly. Leaning over, she whispered in his ear, "No matter what happens, I will always be your little girl, papa. Nothing will ever change that."
"And you will always be my little Lissa." He squeezed her shoulder, his voice gruff with emotion. "Now, come, before your groom worries himself into a faint."
She giggled, and taking his arm, they made their way into the abbey, where everyone stood up, their attention turned to the bride and her father. Once again, Melissa felt like she was floating on a cloud, passing by England's foremost noblemen and women on her way to the altar, to wed her love, the Duke of Gloucester.
She smiled, nodding as she walked past a contingent of northern lords — men who knew her soon-to-be husband, had known him for years now. She smiled as she passed by the Duke of Buckingham and his family, all of whom either bowed or curtsied in respect — still grateful toward her for delaying the marriage with Cate. She smiled — beamed, more like — as she passed by Duchess Cecily, who inclined her head, with pride shining in her eyes.
Mother, standing next to the empty seat that was supposed to be father's, gave Melissa the most supportive smile she had in years, and even Elizabeth, who had been nothing but nasty to the red-head over the past two weeks, seemed strangely calm, a slight smile on her face. In contrast, her husband, Edward was beaming, his golden crown gleaming atop his head as he ducked down, winking slightly. Next to him, George of Clarence stood, and bowing slightly at the waist, he mouthed something at her. Only just catching it ("Little Red"), Melissa playfully rolled her eyes.
And then, finally ... her eyes landed on Richard. He wore a doublet of cloth of gold, as eye-catching as nothing she had seen him wear before, and yet, her attention was drawn to his face. His eyes, as blue as the late night sky, twinkled in excitement, and observing her, he broke out into a grin, mouthing, "you are beautiful."
As her father handed her over to him, she blushed, grinning, "Hello."
"Melissa..." He breathed. "You look exquisite."
"You look rather handsome yourself." She remarked slyly, intertwining her fingers with his as they turned their attention to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Bourchier, who was officiating the marriage.
When asked about it years later, Melissa would admit she did not remember a single moment of the ceremony, other than staring at Richard and repeating vows when prompted. Their hands only separated once throughout the whole process — when he slid a golden band onto her ring finger, and she did the same to his. And — truth be told — she could not have asked for anything else.
It was magical. It was everything she had ever wanted. And she was now Melissa Plantagenet, Duchess of Gloucester, wife to Richard Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester.
AS THEY MADE their way back to the palace for the feast, the crowd was just as loud, just as crazy as they had been before the ceremony.
"God save the duke and duchess!" The Londoners chanted. "God save Richard and Melissa!"
The couple waved as they passed by on horseback, beams etched on both of their faces. They scattered pieces of gold from pouches they had been given, smiling at anyone whose eyes they caught, sharing their joy with the Englishmen and women who had turned out to see them married.
Soon, though, they were past the gates, and into the courtyard of Westminster. Once they had dismounted from their horses, Edward was at their side immediately.
"Dickon, Lissa," he grinned. "Congratulations!"
"Thank you, Ned." Richard grinned back at him, running a hand through his dark hair.
"Yes, thank you." Melissa echoed, smiling brightly at the king. "It was all so very grand, I thought I might have been married in Heaven!"
"'Tis just the beginning, dear sister." Edward smirked. "Wait until you see the feast."
With that, he clasped both of them in hugs, departing as quick as he had come.
"Shall we join him?" Melissa grinned.
"If that be your wish, wife." Richard intertwined their arms.
"Indeed it is, husband." She replied proudly, letting him lead her to the feast.
As they walked into the great hall, the nobles all erupted into applause. White rose petals started raining from the ceiling, minstrels beginning a merry tune, and in an unprecedented move, Richard pulled Melissa to the middle of the hall, hand on her waist, twirling her around with the brightest smile anyone had ever seen on his face.
"How I love you, Lady Gloucester." He breathed into her ear, feeling as though he were floating.
"The same way I burn for you, Lord Gloucester." She responded, the distant thought that she had giggled more today than she ever had before going ignored.
"It does not feel true, that I should have you all to myself from now."
"Try being me." Melissa laughed. "I never imagined I would find myself in your arms, as your wife and duchess. And now, here I am. Here we are."
"My lady wife," Richard murmured, as their dance came to a conclusion. He cupped her face in his hands. "Shall we begin our lives?"
Melissa smiled mischievously. "Yes, we shall. But first..."
"First?" Her husband raised an eyebrow.
"First, let us feast!"
The lords and ladies around them burst into cheers, forming into a crowd that shoved them to the head table. Amidst the chaos, Melissa and Richard looked at each other and laughed. Yes ... they could begin their lives now.
a.n. whew. that chapter was agony to write, a 3600 word monster. i wanted to get their wedding just right, and while i didn't go into much detail for the feast, i hope i did the ceremony justice. this story has been building up to this very moment, and i cannot believe they're finally married 😭😭
writing a royal wedding is a real damn struggle, lemme tell you. i had to do research on traditions, look into multiple historical shows (because the white queen robbed us!), and employ creative license for everything to knit together. i think i managed it tho 😂
in the beginning of the chapter, cecily gave melissa a pendant. that's what is known today as "the middleham jewel," because someone found it buried near the castle in 1985. it's said to have belonged to one of three women: anne neville, cecily neville, or anne beauchamp. here's a picture of it ⬇️⬇️
beautiful, isn't it? i recommend you go read about it; it really is interesting.
btw, what do you think of melissa's progressing relationship with cecily? the fact that she now calls her "lady mother"? i mean, think of elizabeth's (and more importantly, jacquetta's) reaction when she hears 😂😂
and speaking of mothers, melusina appeared! i thought it fitting that she should; it ties well into the plot, and i just really liked the rhyme she made 🤷🏻♀️😂
anyway, imma go plot out some more chapters and sob over how melissa is now married 😭😭 leave any feedback you have down below. it's greatly appreciated, believe me.
bisous 😙 and take care!