ROYAL BLOOD
— 25. To The Future
On the battlefield, opposing men prepared for the battle. Henry was kneeling on the ground, his sword stabbed into the dirt. It was the sword he used in the Battle of Bosworth and carried all his life. The one that had been Nora's, to begin with.
He knew it was wrong of him to use but it was the one he had used all his life and in truth, a part of him did it solely to piss the woman off.
He knew she'd be caught off if she saw him using the sword that her father's in the first place.
With his hands folded together, Henry stared up at the sky and prayed to God for a victory.
On the York side of the battlefield, Nora wore a black dress to indicate her mourning. However, it was a dress that clung to her body tightly and the top part of it that covered her chest almost looked like armor, but of which was made from leather.
She saw all her men preparing for battlefield, but she did not smile.
No, she didn't smile anymore. Not out of happiness, at least. She hadn't genuinely smiled since before Katherine's death. She knew she'd never be happy again. Not while Margaret and Henry were live.
Henry, who cost her her eldest daughter, and Margaret, who cost her everything else that went wrong in her life.
She held a white rose in her hand as she walked over to Lambert, who sat upon his horse, looking worried.
A part of her pitied the boy, knowing she had the chance of causing his death, but she tried her best to hide it.
She looked up at the boy and forced a fake smile, holding out the rose to him.
The boy looked down at it in confusion for a long moment, just before he finally grabbed it.
Nora stared at him for a long moment, just before finally walking away to find Lizzie and Margaret.
When the battle had begun, the Yorks found themselves outnumbered, but still, they fought on. De la Pole had been the first to die, even before Tudor's calvary arrived. It had been an arrow to the neck and Lambert found himself feeling terrified.
When the forces collided, both Lovell and Lambert had been forced to defend themselves on foot.
It didn't take long for Lovell to die as well, leaving Lambert alone in the battle.
Nora had watched on from afar, sitting upon her horse alongside Margaret, Lizzie, and a few of their most trusted men.
Just as Henry had promised, he had led his men onto the battlefield, but did not fight himself.
At Westminster Palace, during Maggie's wedding in the chapel, Lizbeth found herself silently praying to God for Henry's survival and her mother's defeat, despite feeling guilty about it. Her mother was betraying her. She was betraying her to put a peasant boy on the throne just so she could claim revenge on Margaret and Henry, not caring that her own daughter was sitting on the throne beside Henry.
When the wedding was over, Lizbeth walked out of the chapel while holding her son in her arms. She ordered her ladies to leave in a calm tone and as they walked away, she smiled, placing a kiss to her son's forehead.
She turned to the midwife, smiling politely. "Can you take him?" She asked the midwife and the woman nodded, wasting no time taking the child from his mother's arm, "Thank you."
The moment the woman took Arthur away, another woman shoved a folded piece of paper into Lizbeth's hand, just before walking away as quickly as she came.
Lizbeth frowned, watching the woman scurry off before she hesitantly opened up the folded piece of paper.
My dearest Lizbeth,
I congratulate you on having a son. I know it must have hurt you for me to leave like that, but by now, you understand that you are, in truth, loyal to the man you love and not to me. I understand, though. I was forced to make the same decision once and I was younger than even you were.
I had been forced to choose between my own mother and the man I love, your father, and as you know, I chose the man I love. And so have you.
Lizzie has not, though. She has joined me in claiming vengeance because she refuses to forget what they cost us as you have.
It pains me to be on opposing sides as you, but it is necessary and since the beginning, I knew you would turn your coat to Tudor and I do not blame you. You love him.
I wonder if you heard about Katherine, though. It was Lord Strange's fault. I know it. Though, I wonder as you stand by your husband's side, are you able to endure looking at the people who stand close to him?
Are you able to look Lady Margaret in the eye after she poisoned Grace, who died in your arms, and made the order for your brothers to be killed in the Tower?
Are you able to look at Lord Strange, who not only caused Katherine's death, but Edmund's and nearly George as well?
Are you able to stand to look at Lord Stanley, who stabbed my poor Thomas in the back and allowed his men to beat him to death as a way to distract Arthur long enough for your precious husband to win the duel he would have lost if it hadn't been for his little brother dying right before his eyes?
Though, besides that, there is something I must tell you that Lizzie has informed me of.
When you were first carrying Arthur, she knew he'd never be king. She doesn't know where her sight comes from and neither do I, but I believe her.
I saw the way her mother's powers worked and I know it to be the truth.
You must hold your boy close because either you will die before you get to see your son become king or you will outlive him.
I ask of you, Lizbeth, despite doubting that you will, to support your brother George's claim. I know he's out there, waiting for the right moment to rise up and claim vengeance on the man who cost him his family and innocence.
After all, why else do you think I've initiated this battle? Do you truly think I'd put a peasant boy on the throne?
Lizbeth's eyes widened in horror. She slowly looked up at Cecily, who was standing near her.
"She is writing letters to me," Lizbeth spoke up, a terrified look on her face as she spoke to her younger sister.
"Who is writing letters?" Cecily frowned as she walked to stand beside her sister, confused, "Your mother. Of course, she is. How could we expect anything less? Lady Margaret said it was her that funded the entire York army with her own riches."
"Lizzie is ill-wishing Arthur and my mother is allowing her to. She says he will never be king and if he does, I will not live long enough to see it. Our sister is wishing my son and me to die," Lizzie explained, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
"Don't listen to her or Lizzie, Lizbeth," Cecily demanded, genuinely looking concerned for Lizbeth as she grabbed her sister's hands in comfort, "Your mother is only on her own side. Never ours. And Lizzie is just as selfish and evil for joining her. The two of them will say whichever words best serve their own cause. Whether they are true or not. Now, we must go and help Maggie with her marriage bed. She has no mother, just as we don't."
Lizbeth slowly looked into Cecily's eyes as she heard her sister's words. She tried to hold back her tears. She nodded, just before walking away with her.
____
While Maggie was being undressed until she was left in only her smallclothes, Lizbeth and Cecily helped the other ladies spread red rose petals onto the bed.
Lizbeth knew what they were doing. It was most definitely Lady Margaret's idea and she was having it happen to prove that Maggie was no longer a white rose of House York, but red of Tudor and Lancaster.
"Lizbeth?" Maggie spoke up in a fearful tone, "Will it hurt?"
Lizbeth remained silent, exchanging a look with Cecily, who sighed when her elder sister refused to answer.
"A little bit," Cecily answered for her sister as she turned to look at their cousin, "But then it feels quite nice."
"Aunt Nora always said she'd be here for me, to prepare me for when I married," Maggie confessed in a whisper, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
"She's not, though," Lizbeth snapped at her cousin without meaning to, only to realize her mistake, "But Cecily and I are," She quickly stated, an apologetic look on her face, "And nothing bad will happen to you on this night, Maggie."
Maggie didn't smile as Cecily and Lizbeth did. Instead, she nodded, trying to hide her uneasiness.
After they were forced to leave the room, Lizbeth began to walk down the hallway alone, only to see Margaret standing at the balcony that used to be Nora's favorite place in the castle.
She gradually began to smirk, noticing the chess piece Margaret grasped in her hand. She made her way toward the woman, a satisfied look on her face while her ladies remained where they were.
"You confuse me, Lady Margaret," She spoke up, causing Margaret to turn her and glare. She already knew that Lizbeth was about to say something rude, just by the way she started the conversation, "It's obvious that you love Henry and God. Yet despite that, there's so much hate in you."
Margaret sighed in annoyance, quick to look away from Lizbeth.
"It's a crying shame you didn't marry Jasper. Perhaps if you had, you wouldn't have been such a miserable bitch all the time," Lizbeth commented, causing Margaret to turn to her, offended.
"Excuse me?" She questioned and Lizbeth merely smirked.
"Perhaps that is your tragedy, Lady Margaret. And one of the many reasons you hate my mother so much. She had everything you didn't get to have. One of the worst of them all, she got to be with the man she loved while you did not," Lizbeth explained and felt satisfied by how offended and defensive Margarey seemed to be getting.
"My husband is Sir Thomas Stanley!" She corrected Lizbeth in a stern tone.
"But he isn't the man you love. Jasper is," Lizbeth continued on, not backing down from tormenting the woman, "Can you deny it, Lady Margaret?"
"I have no tragedy," Margaret demanded as she turned to face Lizbeth fully, "How dare you say such things to me?"
"And what will you do about it?" Lizbeth dared Margaret, taking a threatening step toward the woman, "You think you have power over me, but you do not. You never will. My love for Henry is the only thing stopping me from killing you."
"If you killed me, you'd be executed," Margaret reminded Lizbeth, trying to hide her uneasiness.
"My father was a soldier and a king. He faced rebellions against men who threatened the lives of his children constantly. Sometimes, they even got close to achieving that goal. After that, do you think I am afraid of death, Lady Margaret?" She asked, a smile on her face, "I do not. Remember that from now on when you dare try to come against me. Henry is the only thing stopping me from killing you, your husband, and Lord Strange. If I didn't love your son, you'd all be dead, regardless of whether or not I died sooner after."
Lizbeth gradually began to smile, noticing how uneasy Margaret seemed to be getting. "Sleep well, Lady Margaret. I know I will after this conversation," She bowed her head to the woman, just before walking away without another word said.
Lizbeth walked down the hallway, but before she could reach her room, she was cornered by Cecily. "Lizbeth!" She called out, causing Lizbeth to turn to face her sister, "I have a message from my husband. We have won. Your mother has lost again."
Lizbeth felt uneasy, having the feeling that it was her mother's plan to lose all along. Her letter basically insinuated that. What if it was true?
"My husband says the King has granted us permission to leave court," Cecily excitedly continued on and Lizbeth tried to hide her disappointment, "We shall go and live at his castle in the north."
The North.
So Maggie was to live in Wales and Cecily to live in the north?
She was all alone now.
She had no friends at court. Yes, people were loyal to her to a fault, but they weren't friends or people she could truly trust.
All she had now was her son and Henry and as much as she loved the thought of that, a part of her felt regretful.
If she hadn't turned against her mother, she would still have Lizzie and her mother. And if George was, indeed, still alive, she'd have her brother as well.
Her unhappiness was caused by no one but herself.
"I hope you will be happy with your husband," Lizbeth managed to get out, her visible sadness becoming harder to hide.
"I think I will be more happier than you," She pointed out and Lizbeth nodded, knowing that she was right, "I never thought I'd see you be saddened by my departure," She confessed, a small smile on her face, "If it makes you feel better, I always liked you more than Lizzie, even with how mean you were to me. But that's all in the past. We're both adults now. We have husbands of our own now. Petty sibling rivalry is all in the past."
Cecily smiled happily, pulling Lizbeth in for a hug. "I hope you'll visit me, dear sister."
"I will," Lizbeth whispered softly, quick to wipe the tears that were on the verge of spilling down her cheeks.
"Goodbye, Lizbeth," Cecily smiled, pressing a kiss to her elder sister's cheek before she walked away.
Lizbeth watched her sister walk away, silently crying. She quickly wiped her tears and turned on her heel, quick to walk to her room alone to cry without anyone seeing her.
______
The next day, when morning came around, the men returned from battle, feeling victorious as they had the boy pretender with them.
Lizbeth looked up, seeing that Jasper was wounded but everyone else seemed to be fine and well.
Lizbeth smiled at the sight of her husband, only to have it fade at the sight of him wearing his crown on top of his helmet. Not to mention, the familiar sword that rested at his waist in its sheath.
She stole that sword from him after Bosworth and left it at Bedford Castle when she, her mother, and her sisters were captured.
Her eyes widened again when a boy on horseback appeared beside Henry. He looked no older than ten, his wrists bound and his face covered in blood and dirt.
"His name is Lambert Simnel!' Henry announced loudly as the people at Westminster clapped, "Routing his army has caused grave injury to my uncle."
Lizbeth turned her head, watching as Jasper groaned loudly while being assisted off his horse.
"The traitor will be dealt with," Henry continued on and as he did so, Margaret's eyes were fixed on Lizbeth.
"There is another traitor to attend in an Abbey!" Margaret shouted out loudly as she referred to Lizzie, "They both should pay the same price for their treason."
Lizbeth wanted nothing more than to snap at Margaret at that moment, but stopped herself, seeing as though she was carrying little Arthur in her arms and she didn't wish to upset him.
She supposed it was a wise choice anyway because it wouldn't end well for her if she, the queen, was seen defending a traitor, even if it was her own sister.
Henry climbed off his horse and his eyes remained fixed on Lizbeth. He smiled slightly, relieved to see her.
She had been relieved to see him, too, up until the moment she saw the crown he wore and the sword he carried, which was the way her brother went into battle before Henry killed him. Not to mention, what his mother had said about executing her sister.
She sent him a glare and turned on her heel. She walked away and Henry sighed in frustration. "Not this again," He muttered under his breath, aggravated that once again, Lizbeth was pissed at him when they were just becoming happy with their lives together.
_____
Later on, after Lizbeth took a seat on his throne, it didn't take Henry long to take the seat beside her on his own.
Henry gestured for the guards to bring Lambert forward, which he immediately ended up doing.
"For the first time since I won at Bosworth, we have engaged in battle," Henry spoke up, beginning to address the crowd, "And we slaughtered them," He paused, allowing the crown to cheer, "You slaughtered them. My loyal, true and trusted men. I have my throne because of you, and I am grateful. You will be rewarded. But first, we must attend to our two traitors. The boy who led the army. And the York woman who has plotted against me alongside Nora of Lancaster since I won the crown."
"Traitor!" The men began to shout, causing Lizbeth tense up worriedly.
"The penalty for treason is death. So..." Henry trailed off, glancing around at his subjects, "Who would have me kill them?"
The men began to yell in agreement and Lizbeth looked horrified, shocked that Henry would allow not just Lizzie to die, but also an innocent boy.
"And who would not?" Henry asked and the room immediately fell silent.
"I would not, Your Grace," Richard Pole, Maggie's wife, suddenly spoke up, seeing the look on both Lizbeth's face and his own wife's, "The boy is just a boy. A pawn for an adult game that he doesn't understand."
"What of Nora of Lancaster? The Mother of the Queen?" Henry questioned, raising a brow at the man.
"She has no excuse," Margaret demanded in a stern tone, "She rallied the Irish. Paid them in gold."
"And yet, here I am. Undefeated," Henry pointed out to his mother in a calm tone and Lizbeth felt uneasy, a part of her feeling as though it wouldn't last long, "Her army barely drew their swords. You cut through them like barley."
"Please, Your Grace," Lambert pleaded as he slowly brought himself to look Henry in the eye.
Hearing the boy's pleas, the whole room fell silent, many of them feeling bad for him. "What do you think I should do, my queen?" Henry suddenly spoke up as he turned to look at Lizbeth.
Margaret felt angry, upset that Henry was asking her for advice.
"He is a peasant boy. He should be treated as such. He should be given a job in the palace kitchens. He shall turn the spit," Lizbeth explained without hesitation, not wanting to yet another boy dead because of this war.
"Then that is what we shall do. He should be thankful that he has no need to return to a father who would sell him for a keg of ale," Henry explained and Margaret was quick to argue.
"Henry," Margaret pleaded, but Henry continued on.
"And you," Henry continued, looking directly toward Lizbeth, only to see that she genuinely looked as though she was about to cry. He sighed, just before finishing his order, "...May tell your mother when she attempts to write to you as we know she will, that the King is in rude health, and sends his regards!"
The crowd began to laugh when Lizbeth leaned her head back as she sighed in defeat.
Lizbeth turned to Henry, grabbing ahold of his hand. "Thank you, Henry," She told him softly, gradually beginning to smile.
Henry stared back at him, smiling as well while Margaret looked upset by the sight that befell her.
____
After being summoned by Henry, Lizbeth made her way to his room while holding Arthur, only to follow Henry as he led her into the queen's rooms instead.
"Come," He encouraged her, a smile on his face, "I have something for you."
Henry opened the door to the queen's rooms, revealing it to now be empty.
Lizbeth continued to walk around the room, holding Arthur in her arms as she did so. Was Henry finally giving her the Queen's rooms?
"I had my mother leave once and for all. It wasn't fair to you. You are Queen, not her," Henry explained, an awkward look on his face.
She turned her head, her eyes locking on the paint on the wall that showed the red and white rose combined.
"The war is over once and for all. We may finally be happy with each other," he explained, walking to stand beside her as they both smiled down at little Arthur.
"You know she won't give you, don't you?" Lizbeth spoke up, slowly lifting her head to look at Henry, "My mother. She—"
"Lizbeth, she has done her worst," Henry assured her as he wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer to him, "And look at us..."
"We are fools to think that is her worst," Lizbeth confessed and Henry tried to hide his uneasiness when he saw the genuine fear in her eyes, "My mother never loses like that. Unless it's what she wanted to happen. She learned something from my father. The one thing she didn't learn from her own father. It's a York thing. To strike when they're least expecting it, even if it's seen as dishonorable. I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't kill any of us in our sleep. She did it to her own uncle, after all. You or your mother mean nothing to her. What do you think she'll do to you? She knows no boundaries now, Henry. She doesn't fear death and she has nothing holding her back. Nothing to lose."
"Lizbeth, we will be fine," Henry assured Lizbeth, forcing a smile on his face, "I'll make sure of it."
He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to Arthur's forehead. He lifted his head back up, turning to face Lizbeth fully.
"I love you and I will do anything to protect you and our son. I promise," He continued on and finally, Lizbeth felt herself calming down.
She smiled at him and Henry smiled back. She placed a hand on the side of his face, slowly leaning forward. She pressed her lips against his, the two of beginning to kiss.
After a moment, Lizbeth pulled away, an uneasy look on her face. "Henry..." she trailed off, letting out a small sigh, "There is something I must tell you."
"What is it?" He asked, a concerned look on his face.
"I...I'm pregnant again," She suddenly revealed, causing Henry's eyes to widen.
"You're with child?" He asked softly and the moment Lizbeth nodded, Henry began to smile widely.
"You have no idea how happy this makes me," Henry confessed, smiling happily as he pulled Lizbeth closer to him, "We may finally start our family together! I don't care what my mother says. We don't need all sons. I hope this one's a girl. We already know Arthur favors you. Perhaps this one will favor me."
Lizbeth laughed, leaning against Henry's shoulder. She slowly lifted her head, smiling up at him with love and admiration in her eyes.
______
After a few days of sailing, the three York women arrived back in Burgundy and at Margaret's palace. Nora was the first to enter the throne room, quick to remove her cloak. She took a deep breath, exchanging a look with Lizzie and Margaret, who watched her closely.
Just then, Cecily walked into the room, a smug look on her face that Nora knew all too well. She knew something. Something that she did not. But what was it?
"We have a guest," Cecily informed Nora, a large smile on her face.
"And who may that be?" Nora asked, rolling her eyes in annoyance, "Another failure?"
"No, your son. But perhaps I should leave," A voice suddenly spoke up, causing Nora's eyes to widen in shock.
She whipped herself around, watching in utter disbelief as George entered the room.
Margaret and Lizzie gasped, stunned speechless while Nora began to cry at the sight of the son she thought she had lost after not hearing from him for nearly two years.
"He arrived just before you did," Cecily informed the group, smiling as she watched Nora continue to stare at her son in shock, "He had been hiding out with Elizabeth Woodville, waiting for the right moment to sail to Burgundy without getting caught."
"George?" She called out in a soft tone, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
"Lady Mother," George politely greeted his mother, bowing to her as he smiled.
"Is it really you?" Nora asked as she began to walk toward him, "My God!"
She stopped when she saw standing in front of him. He was taller now, much taller. She stared up at him, smiling as she began to cry. "It's really you," She whispered softly, cupping her son's face in his hands, "My boy. My dear boy."
Lizbeth began to cry, wasting no time hugging her son, the son she believed to be dead.
Lizzie cried as well as she walked over to them, the three of them wasting no time hugging each other all at once.
Margaret stood next to Cecily, the two of them smiling at the sight and as they imagined the victory they'd finally get in the near future.
They had their prince back. Their York prince. The rightful heir to the throne.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Nora's son George is alive! And Lizbeth and Henry are finally happy together.