ROYAL BLOOD
— 33. Little Prince
It was nighttime in England and in the council room, Henry stood in front of his council and Lizbeth, trying to contain his anger.
"He didn't run away," He informed the group, a disappointed look on his face, "He left to see his newborn son. Just as King Edward, his supposed father, did thirty years ago when Arthur was born."
"A son?" Lizbeth asked, her eyes widening at the news.
"He has an heir," He replied, turning his back to the council as he stared down at the fire.
"No," Margaret spoke up and shook her head in disapproval.
"And with that, his claim is strengthened, false as it is, and other will declare for him," Henry explained, looking down at the letter that had been sent to him.
"But he withdrew," Richard spoke up, causing Henry to sigh, "Perhaps he will not come again."
"He will come," Henry responded and closed his head as he tried his best to remain calm, "We don't know where or when, but he will come. And I must pray the nobles will support me because the new tax on the peasants will ensure that they do not. We need Spain more than ever."
"I will pray," Margaret confessed, causing Lizbeth to turn to look at the woman and roll her eyes.
"I dare say that will not help us," Lizbeth confessed softly, only to be ignored as Margaret walked out of the room with Bishop Morton.
____
In her chambers, Lizbeth spent the entire day writing letters to the lords of England, asking for their support in the war against the boy posing as her brother.
Nighttime soon arrived and still, Lizbeth continued to write their letters, even after sending the ladies that were helping her back to their husbands.
Henry soon walked into the room and made his way over to his wife. He sighed, placing his hands on her shoulders as he stood behind her.
"There are over fifty," She informed Henry in a calm tone, "All of England's noble families must turn out for you. And I have written to ensure that they will."
She slowly looked up at him and Henry smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "What would I do without you?" He asked in a whisper.
Lizbeth playfully rolled her eyes and stared up at Henry. "I don't know, you tell me."
Henry sighed, remaining silent for a long moment before finally speaking up once more. "This boy...He's done what I would in his shoes. he sailed from Scotland to Land's End and eight thousand Cornish men have joined him, out of hate for me," Henry explained, placing a hand on her back as he moved closer to her, "My army gathers. I must go to them."
Lizbeth sighed in defeat, but still, she nodded in understanding. She looked up at him, a pleading look on her face. "Just return to me. Please."
"I will," Henry promised her in a confident tone as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, "And we shall have peace in England once more. This time, for good."
Lizbeth smiled at Henry, wasting no time kissing him.
____
At the York war camp, George knelt in his tent, praying to God for his victory in the upcoming battle.
Cathy stood near him, holding their son, Edmund, in her arms. He was crying and she tried her best to quiet him down by rocking him.
Slowly, George stood up and turned to face her, a confident look on his face. "You must go, Cathy. It's time," He insisted, taking a step toward his wife and son, "Take our son and claim sanctuary."
"Promise me you'll win back your kingdom," Cathy pleaded, a stern look on her face, "Promise me you'll remain strong and return to us."
George smiled, placing one hand on her arm and the other on the side of her face. "I will come for you both when I have won. I promise," He assured her in a confident tone, "I love you, Cathy, I will not let anything happen to you or our baby boy. I promise."
Cathy smiled, nodding her head in understanding. She leaned forward and kissed George passionately.
She pulled away for a moment, pressing her forehead against his as they stared into each other's eyes. "You are the son of King Edward IV and Nora of Lancaster, the Queen in all but name. You are the grandson of the legendary Thomas Fitzroy. You are stronger than Henry Tudor will ever be. Remember that."
"You sound like my mother," George remarked, earning a smile from Cathy.
"I can't say she's not right," Cathy pointed out, causing George to smile as he kissed his wife one last time.
He sighed in defeat, pulling away from Cathy before looking down at his son. "May I see him?" He asked and Cathy nodded, wasting no time placing their son in his arms.
George held little Edmund in his arms, smiling softly as he looked down at his son. "I pray this is not the last time we see each other, my son," He whispered to his son softly, "I will come back to you and your mother soon. I will keep you both safe. Make this land better for you. I promise. I love you, little prince."
Edmund cooed, looking up at his father as he smiled slightly.
George chuckled, despite feeling saddened and exchanged a look with Cathy. He sighed, handing his son back to his mother as he tried to contain his sadness.
George sighed, kissing Cathy once more before taking a step back. "Go," He insisted in a pleading tone, "I will find you when this is all over."
Cathy nodded, exchanging a look with her husband one last time before walking away.
____
Not being able to help herself, Lizbeth had traveled all the way to Henry's battle camp. She arrived there on horseback and when her horse came to a stop, some German mercenaries that were standing close by were quick to speak up.
"Hey!" One of the men called out to her in German, "Hey, sweetheart, where are you going? Come help me polish my bow..." he trailed off, gesturing downwards.
Lizbeth rolled her eyes, turning to look back at the men. She glared at them threateningly. "Speak like to me again and I shall cut your tongue out. Would you like that, sir?" She growled at them in German, causing the man to immediately shut up while the others laughed in amusement.
Lizbeth frowned in concern as she glanced around, finding the battle camp to be filled with German mercenaries and barely any English soldiers.
Where were they?
"Queen Elizabeth." A voice called out, causing Lizbeth to turn her head to see Lord Strange walking toward her wearing his armor.
He bowed his head to her politely and stopped when he was standing in front of her. "I shall take you to the king," He announced and Lizbeth nodded.
She climbed off her horse, just before following him into the tent that Henry was holding a meeting in before the battle.
"What do you mean, they've deserted me?" Henry complained to his men, a look of disbelief on his face.
"So few of them turned out for you that the ones who did feel torn and say they will not fight their own kind," Lord Stanley explained in a calm tone.
"Henry," Lizbeth called out, causing Henry's eyes to widen as he whipped himself around to face him.
"Lizbeth!" Henry exclaimed, shocked to see his wife there at the war camp. He was relieved to see her, though. The sight of the woman he loved bringing him relief and comfort at a time like that when he feared that he would lose.
The men that had been in the tent bowed to their queen before exiting the tent, leaving Henry alone with Lizbeth.
"I had to see you. I had to be here to make sure we won," Lizbeth confessed, a saddened look on her face.
Henry smiled slightly, a part of him thinking about the conversation they had long ago.
Lizbeth had asked that one night. "You don't want someone who burns to be with you? Someone who would ride across the battlefield just to hear your voice?"
"You rode all through the night," Henry realized, his eyes widening in shock as he took a step toward her.
"The noblemen whom I wrote to did not come?" Lizbeth questioned, a concerned look on her face.
"Ah, well, they claim the sweating sickness. Something else to blame me for," Henry informed her, a disappointed look on his face.
"What?" Lizbeth asked, frowning in confusion.
Henry sighed, looking down at the ground in disappointment. "Since Spain is not with us, they feel we are alone in all of Europe, while the boy has every kingdom and..." he trailed off, sighing once more, "my own men flocking to his side."
"No!" Lizbeth argued in a stern tone as she shook her head, "This cannot happen. I will not let it. I refuse!"
"And what can you do to stop it, Lizbeth?" Henry asked, an ashamed look on his face, "Even I cannot."
"As your men love to remind me of, I am my mother's daughter and I shall prove just that by getting these men back," Lizbeth responded confidently as she turned on her heel and left the tent.
Soon enough, Lizbeth left the battle camp, riding her horse all the way to where the deserters were traveling through the woods after leaving Henry's war camp.
She cut them off on her horse and quickly called out to them. "My lords! My lords!" She shouted loudly and finally, they stopped where they were, "Do you know me?"
"Of course, Your Grace," One of the men answered in a calm tone, "You're the Queen of England. The daughter of Nora of Lancaster."
"Then listen to your damn Queen when I command you!" Lizbeth yelled at them in a stern tone, "England has been invaded by the pretender and the Scots! Since when have fellow Englishmen feared Gaels and Celts and run from warfare like a coward?"
"They say he is the true king, George of York," One of the men spoke up and Lizbeth was quick to argue.
"If he were George, then he would be my brother and I would tell you myself!" Lizbeth snapped at them coldly, "But he is here to kill your kin and rob England of what was never his to begin with. If you fear God, then you will honor your true king, Henry Tudor," She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing on in a loud, powerful tone, "And if you will not do it for your King, then do it for me. The eldest daughter of King Edward IV and Nora of Lancaster, the Queen in all but name."
Lizbeth glanced around at the men, who seemed to be taking in every word she said. "You must return to the battle camps and help us defend our country against this pretender who poses himself as my dead brother," She announced loudly, "But if you don't, it means you've turned against my husband, your rightful king, and if you turn against him, you've turned against England. And I shall fight you like I'd fight this pretender and his army. To the death."
"You are your father's daughter," One of the men commented as he stood a step forward, an almost proud look on his face, "We shall return to King Henry, but not for him. We will do it for you. Our rightful queen."
Lizbeth glanced around, shocked as each of the men knelt before her, calling out, "For Queen Elizabeth!"
Gradually, she began to smile, beginning to feel proud of herself.
_____
That day, as Henry stood in his battle camps, he became shocked when he Lizbeth riding down the dirt road, the men who had deserted him earlier on that day riding behind her.
He gradually began to smile, proud of the woman he loved.
Soon enough, she arrived and one of the men stepped forward, assisting her off the horse. He bowed to her, just before taking a step back.
Lizbeth remained an emotionless expression as she made her way over to her husband, who smiled at her proudly.
"Your men are here and they support you," Lizbeth informed Henry in a calm tone, causing his smile to become even wider because he knew it was all thanks to you.
Henry grabbed Lizbeth's hand, holding it in his own as he turned to address the returned men. "When this battle is over, you will live in peace with your families, knowing that you have done your duty to your King, your God, and to your Queen!"
The moment Henry had mentioned Lizbeth, the large group of men began to cheer loudly and after eight years, it no longer bothered Henry to know that the only reason his reign had remained in peace for so long was because of his marriage to Lizbeth.
Henry and Lizbeth turned to each other, both of them smiling widely at their success.
Moments later, Henry and Lizbeth stood in front of each other in the tent, staring into each other's lovingly, their fingers intertwined.
"How can I thank you?" Henry asked, an uneasy look on his face as he stared down at Lizbeth.
"Come back to me. That is how you may thank me," Lizbeth responded, a small smile on her face, "Come back to us."
"You must go," Henry pleaded, cupping her face in his hands, "The guards will take you back to London."
"Henry, I will not—" She began to argue, only to have Henry cut her off by kissing her passionately.
"You have to go, Lizbeth. I cannot have you risking your life. Not after everything that's happened," He pleaded in a soft tone, "When I win this battle, I shall bring peace to England. We will remain in peace for however long we live. We'll be together soon, though. I promise."
Lizbeth nodded, a saddened look appearing on her face as Henry let go of her hands and left the tent.
She sighed, quickly wiping her tears before walking out of the tent as well.
___
When Henry returned from battle, they celebrated with a feast. Arthur was running around with his cousin Henry and his sister Meg while Kathy and Harry stood off to the side, bothering Lord Strange and Lord Stanley with their mischief like they usually did.
Lizbeth smiled as she sat upon her throne next to Henry's, watching everything around her.
Henry, on the other hand, felt uneasy, which Lizbeth was quick to notice. She sighed, turning to look at him as she grabbed her hand. "What is it?" She asked him in concern, "You've been acting strangely since you returned."
"I don't believe you'll like what I have to say," Henry confessed, causing Lizbeth's smile to fade.
"Tell me," She insisted, desperate to know more than ever now.
"When I stood upon that battlefield and locked eyes on the boys..." He trailed off, letting out a large sigh as he looked down at the ground, "I felt as though I was back at Bosworth, battling against Arthur. It felt exactly the same. The look he gave me...It was so much like the one Arthur gave me all those years ago."
"The boy is neither George nor Arthur, Henry. It is simply your mind playing tricks on you," Lizbeth assured Henry, forcing a smile on her face to make him feel better, despite feeling just as uneasy about the whole ordeal as Henry did, "You won, Henry. He withdrew. This is good news."
"You think this is the end of it, Lizbeth?" Henry asked his wife in a soft tone, "That he won't raise more men and then return? He has your mother on his side. Even if he wanted to, Nora would never let him give up. She wants revenge and she will stop at nothing to get it."
Henry suddenly cut himself off, turning his head to watch as Lord Stanley opened a letter he had just received.
Lord Stanley uneasily looked over at Henry, just before looking back down at the letter. "What?" Henry asked in an aggravated tone.
Henry quickly raised his hand, telling the musicians to stop the music before he and Lizbeth turned back to Lord Stanley with concerned looks on their faces.
The room fell silent and everyone turned their attention to Lord Stanley, waiting for him to announce the news.
"He's claimed sanctuary," He announced to the group in a calm tone.
"The boy?" Lizbeth questioned, a frowning forming on her lips, "Where is he?"
"At Beaulieu Abbey," Lord Stanley replied, causing Harry and Kathy to turn to each other because they remembered their grandmother having a library built for the abbots there after they saved them from running into George's army.
"So I cannot even send my men to bring him to us?" Henry asked in a frustrated tone.
"Not men," Margaret spoke up as she stepped forward, "I can do it," She paused, turning to Bishop Morton with a smile on her face, "God's ways are mysterious indeed. Now, I understand my pilgrimage. He confirms that what I do is God's work and my calling is to be the guardian of his reign."
____
George had watched from the window alongside Cathy as Margaret Beaufort arrived at the Abbey alongside some English guards loyal to Henry.
He felt uneasy at the sight of the woman, knowing her all too well. After all, it was her order that caused Edmund and their two half-brothers to die.
He sighed in defeat, slowly turning to face his wife. "If they take me away, you must remain here, Cathy. Promise me you'll remain safe," He insisted, a pleading look on his face.
"George, I won't let them take you," Cathy argued, a confident look on her face.
"If they do, you must. Don't let them know that you are here," George argued as he walked closer to her, cupping her face in his hands, "No matter what happens just know that I love you. And I will everything I can to protect you and our son."
"I love you, too," Cathy replied, tears forming in her eyes at the thought of being parted from George.
George sighed, quickly kissing Cathy before he walked out of the room they had been staying in at the abbey.
After being escorted out, George walked out of the Abbey, showing no fear toward Lady Margaret.
However, the moment Margaret laid eyes on him, she felt uneasy. They were right. He did look like Nora. He practically looked like a male version of her in her younger years.
He wore elegant clothing, showing his wealth, just as Nora used to.
"Lady Margaret," George greeted the woman without a care in the world as he politely bowed his head to her.
"Has he something else to wear?" Margaret complained, ignoring his greeting as she found herself unable to bear the clothes he wore.
England would never see him for the peasant he was if he were wearing such clothes.
The three abbots glanced between each other, just before looking back at Margaret. "We could give him holy robes."
Margaret felt uneasy, knowing that was the last thing they wanted to do. It would make matters worse.
"Disrobe," Margaret ordered as she turned to look at the guard to her right, "Exchange your clothes with him."
The man nodded, wasting no time being to remove his close while Margaret turned her attention toward George.
"Your impudence offends the Lord," Margaret sneered at George, who simply smirked in a way that reminded Margaret of Edward.
"It seems you are still the same as you were when I was a boy, Lady Margaret," George spoke up, continuing to smirk at the woman who was responsible for all the loss in his family, "Claiming everything you do is God's will just to have your way. I suppose you didn't expect me to be alive, given you had already killed my little brothers Edmund, Richard, and Edward."
"Take those garments off," Margaret demanded, ignoring what George had just said.
"So be it," George shrugged, continuing to keep his eyes fixed on Margaret as he removed all of his clothing.
From the second level of the abbey, Cathy held her son in her arms as she looked out the window. She watched with tears in her eyes as they stripped her husband of his others, giving him those of a peasant's instead.
_____
In their chambers, Lizbeth and Henry sat in chairs across from each other while their four children knelt nearby at a small table, playing cards.
Lizbeth decided to join in, having cards of her own while Henry continued to find himself in deep thought about everything occurring within England that was causing him and Lizbeth so much trouble.
Lizbeth rolled her eyes when she saw that Harry and Kathy were secretly trading cards underneath the table. It was a common occurrence. She wasn't surprised. If they weren't cheating together, Harry and Kathy were causing some other sort of trouble together. They were each other's partner in crime, to say the least. They did everything together.
Lizbeth found herself wondering what would the future have in store for them. Of course, Harry would be a duke one day, but how would Kathy react when she learned she'd have to be married off like any other princess?
"Harry, Kathy, stop cheating," Lizbeth complained, causing Harry and Kathy to look up at their mother annoyed.
"We weren't cheating!" Harry exclaimed in a frustrated tone.
"You were. You're trading cards with each other underneath the table. I'm not blind nor am I a fool," Lizbeth complained, causing the duo to exchange a look with each other as they rolled their eyes.
"Your Graces," Lord Stanley suddenly called out, causing Lizbeth and Henry to turn to look at him as he entered the room, "A message from your Lady Mother." He informed Henry, whose eyes widened in shock, "She has the boy."
Henry found himself sighing in utter relief while Lizbeth felt uneasy. He turned to look at Lizbeth, who avoided contact with him.
Could it be him, though? Could it be George?
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
The similarity between George's speech to his son to the one Edward made to Arthur in love and war 😭😭