𝙪𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙
twenty-nine. — quiet like a fire!
IT WAS EASY work, riding out of Norwich. Melissa, Anne, and a whole host of guards Anthony had insisted on accompanying them left midmorning, and by nightfall, having ridden like the Devil himself was on their tail, they were over half of the way there.
When the sun had finally set, the group found a respectable enough inn, paid for food and board, and settled themselves for the night. The innkeeper did not know who his patrons were, but judging by their fine dresses and armaments, he assumed they were important, and so left them well enough alone.
That suited Melissa just fine, who was tense and worried for her father's wellbeing. She was sharing a room with Anne, and given that the girl was essentially about to be traded away in exchange for Baron Rivers, whom Lord Warwick was holding captive, conversation was tight and fraught.
"Your Grace?" Her voice was mousy, quiet.
"Yes, Anne?" Melissa sighed.
"Have I ... done something? To offend you?"
She had not been told what was going on. In fact, Anne had barely managed to collect her cloak and a change of clothes before Melissa had swept her off, and had her mount a horse.
"No, you have not. I am afraid, Anne, that you have been caught in a situation not of your own making. And I apologize that you have been reduced to a mere piece of exchange, as a result of it."
"Exchange?" she inquired innocently.
"I assume you have not heard." Melissa stretched her arms out. "Your father is holding mine captive. You are to be handed over in exchange for his release."
"What?" Anne breathed. "But ... but I--"
"As I said," Melissa interrupted. "'Tis not your fault. You have been good to me, Anne, but we must part ways now. 'Tis only right. We are no longer on the same side."
The duchess felt almost sorry for her lady — well, former lady — as she watched Anne go through a range of difficult emotions. Confusion, horror, and anger seemed to be the most prominent, vivid and obvious, as the girl had never gotten used to schooling her expression, even with her many years at court.
"I do not know what to say," she confessed. "I am ... you do not blame me?"
"No, I do not." The red-head confirmed. "We are not defined by our parents' sins, Anne. My father and yours ... well, let us just say they have never been friends. Something like this was bound to happen. I am only sorry my brother was caught in the crossfire."
"Your brother?" The Neville girl folded in on herself, almost, trying to seem as small as possible.
Melissa nodded heavily. It had barely been a day since she had received the news about John, but it felt like a week, a month, a year. His death weighed on her heavily ("Why did I not see it? Why did Melusina warn me about father, and not my brother? Did I cause his death? Did my actions hasten his passing?"), and she was trying not to ponder on it too heavily.
"He has been executed, Anne. In punishment, for laying his hands on your sister."
"Izzy?" The brunette perked up. "Is she alright?"
"She is fine. My brother is not." The duchess replied shortly.
Anne clearly understood that that was the end of the conversation, because she fell silent and lay down in her bed, pulling the covers up as far as they would go. Melissa stayed awake for a little while longer, visions of her brother's death echoing throughout her mind. Over and over, she imagined the way he would have died: kicking and screaming, insulting his captors, professing his innocence, anything that may have gotten him out of his predicament.
"Oh, John," she lamented, closing her eyes in pain. "Why did you have to be so reckless?"
THE NEXT DAY, after breaking their fast, Melissa hurried their party along, and out of the inn. People stared at her and Anne as they swished by, garbed in their fine dresses, followed by their host of guards; but still, they said nothing. In this part of the country, keeping to your own business was custom; this was bordering on the north, after all, and in the north lay Warwick's lands.
They found their horses in the stables; rested, fed, and watered. Melissa mounted hers, waited for Anne to do the same, and they set out, with the knights riding behind them. The late summer sun beat on their backs, warming their skin, rendering them thirsty in quick intervals. They stopped only once to replenish their water skins, but other than that, it was a day of hard horseback riding. The duchess knew that once she gave her body time to process it, she would be unbearably sore, but she would not relent. Who knew for how long Warwick would hold onto her father? She could not risk it.
The sun was close to setting in the western sky when the landscape started to become familiar — neatly kept roads, greenery across both sides, and Yorkshire in the horizon. The tension visibly began drain out of Anne; her shoulders sagged in relief. Melissa, though she was fond of the north due to Richard's own happy memories, could not say she felt the same. What had once seemed like home was now enemy territory, and she was riding right towards it. Still, she did not falter, and maintained them throughout the rest of the journey — soon, they were outside of York, and she had to stop herself from looking up at the spikes ("Is John's head there? Have I truly killed him?").
"Who goes there?" a strong voice called out.
Since it was now past dark, the city gates were closed, and access was restricted.
"The Duchess of Gloucester and her retinue," Melissa called out. "Accompanying the Lady Anne Neville."
There was silence for a moment, before a bark of an order had the gates being pulled open.
"Welcome, Your Grace," a soldier greeted them, eyeing Anne curiously as they passed.
Melissa nodded tensely, and they made their way down the road, towards Middleham.
"Your Grace?" Anne murmured, as they continued their ride.
"Anne?"
"Would you please ... I mean, if it please you, could you apologize to Rich-- His Grace, on my behalf?"
"Whatever for?" Melissa's eyebrows creased.
"We ... we were friends, I like to think. And I should not want him to believe that I stand with my father in this."
"You defy your father..." To Anne's confusion, Melissa seemed almost amused. "Quite a dangerous thing to do, these days."
The girl flushed and looked down. Her former mistress continued on before she could say anything.
"Nonetheless, I shall. Richard, I believe, will be glad to hear of it."
"Thank you," Anne murmured; and then, all of sudden, they were riding through the castle's gates, into the courtyard.
Lord Warwick himself was standing there to greet them. Somehow, he had gotten word of their entry to the city, before their arrival.
"Your Grace," he bowed, as Melissa dismounted from her horse. She restrained herself from wincing at the pain in her legs, and faced him head on.
"Lord Warwick, I bring you your daughter." She stated, dispensing with the pleasantries. "Now, I believe you promised me my father?"
"Of course, Your Grace," he nodded, and — after giving Anne a cursory glance — ushered her into the keep.
Most castles were either drafty, or too warm. The only exceptions, in Melissa's experience, had been Westminster and Sudeley. Kenilworth had been oddly cold, Norwich was always blazing hot, and even her own homestead at Rockingham had taken some work before reaching the ideal temperature. Middleham Castle was just right — the Earl of Warwick, it seemed, kept a tight lid on how his household ran.
"Annie!" Isabel, the Duchess of Clarence ran past them, sweeping her little sister into a hug. Their mother, the countess stood by the stairs, and curtsied as Melissa and her husband walked by.
"Your father, you will find, has been treated most kindly." Lord Warwick stated, leading her down a hallway, and up a flight of stairs. "He must have nothing to complain about."
"With all due respect, I think I shall assess that myself." Melissa informed him coolly.
"Very well," Warwick acceded. He did not mention her brother, and she did not bring the topic of John up.
Finally, after a few more minutes of tense, silent walking, they reached the chambers where Baron Rivers was being kept. The sound of a conversation reached them, but Warwick leaned over and opened the door before she could glean anything from it.
There were two men in the room, and both whipped around instantly at the sound of the door opening. It was her father, and Edward.
"Melissa!" Her father cried out, rushing over to envelop her in a hug.
"What is she doing here?" Edward demanded of Warwick. "What have you done, cousin?"
"I have done nothing, Edward." Warwick denied smoothly. "The duchess and I are having an exchange of ... persons, shall we say? Perfectly civil, has it not been, Your Grace?"
"Yes," Melissa ground out, relieved to be in her father's embrace.
"You see?" His voice was smarmy, and it clearly grated on Edward's nerves as much as it did Melissa's, because he quickly demanded the earl leave.
Warwick did so, but not before telling the duchess he would dispatch a maid to come and lead her to her chambers later. Once he had gone, and Melissa had pulled away from her father's hug, the king ambushed her demandingly.
"What are you thinking, Melissa?" he hissed. "What in God's name are doing, coming here? He shall hold you captive!"
"He will not," the duchess denied. "He knows it would serve him no use, but would only turn away the lords in the Parliament away from his cause. I am a royal duchess, and he bid me come here in peace — to now capture me would bring his word under question."
"You cannot be sure!" Edward cried out passionately, and Melissa's father grunted in agreement. "You see what he has done! There is no honor left in him."
"'Tis not about honor, Edward, but over integrity." The red-head insisted. "You must know this better than I. No soldier would follow a commander whose words they doubt."
"Still, you should not have come," the king insisted. "If you had been harmed..."
"Richard trusts me." Melissa hurried to reassure him. "He knows I would never do anything recklessly, and even if I did, he would not blame you for it."
"Yes, Richard..." Edward echoed, still seeming dissatisfied at the situation.
"So you think Warwick will let you go?" Baron Rivers took over, as the king slumped down on the bed; stunned, tired, and angry all at once.
"He will let us go," his daughter affirmed. "You and I. Edward, unfortunately..."
"He plans on going to Parliament with George," the blonde grunted. "To convince them to set me aside, and crown my brother. And as if that were not treason enough, he would have me divorce my wife, and set aside my children with her. He demands it of me, even! The swine!"
"But of course, you will not do it." Melissa frowned. "Why on earth does he think you will comply, especially if demands you do something? As though he owns you?"
Edward scoffed and looked away.
"He is a snake, my cousin. He has done good for me, but now he bites back at the hand that fed him many, many times. How dare he!?"
Privately, Melissa thought it must be three, four years of favoring Elizabeth's advice over Warwick's, but saying that would be no help at all. Instead, she cleared her throat and walked over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"This will be over soon, Edward. Richard will come through for you; I know it."
He placed his hand atop hers and squeezed it. She smiled at him comfortingly, before turning to face her father, who was frowning.
"I am beyond relieved you fare well, father, but I must go and rest. I ache from the travel, and we will have to set out early tomorrow."
"As you say, Lissa." He nodded, kissing her on the cheek. "Have a good night."
"And you, as well." She smiled, and faced Edward once more. "Do not worry. Elizabeth and the children are well, and pray for your return daily. I shall see you tomorrow, before we leave."
Edward cleared his throat and nodded. "Goodnight, Melissa."
"Goodnight, Edward."
a.n. you guys! i'm back on a roll! i'm so happy for all this inspiration! the year is 2022, i have two very good plotlines planned out, and everything is smooth-sailing. let's just hope it stays that way 😌
anyway, melissa and anne are at middleham now. they traveled hard and fast, and it paid off; anne is back with her family, and melissa will spend the night at the castle before she and her father can leave tomorrow. her thought process was very interesting in this chapter, i think. i'm really enjoying writing her and developing her as a character. she's very complex, which is why she's one of my favorite ocs that i've ever developed.
and speaking of ocs, i have a new story out! it's called "alea iacta est" and it's about henry v, who's best known for bringing england to victory against france in the battle of agincourt. it's set around the movie "the king," with timothée chalamet playing henry, and i really believe i have a good thing going there. it's gonna be the prequel to another cousins' war series i'm planning out. go check it out! it already has two chapters posted 😉
anyway, before i sign off, i gotta say ... whatchu doin' edward 😬 hmm? very sketchy of you.
😂😂😂
alright, thanks for reading, guys! coming up is a bunch of interactions with characters we haven't really broached on yet (margaret beaufort, jasper tudor, etc.), so stay excited for that!
bisous 😘 and stay safe! love ya'll!