ROYAL BLOOD
— 34. The Real George
At Westminster, Lizbeth watched uneasily from her bedroom window as George rode in with a bag over his head and his hands bound behind his back.
She impatiently waited for the bag to be taken off, desperate to know what the boy looked like to figure out whether or not it truly was her brother.
She was so caught up in figuring it out she hadn't even noticed that Henry had walked into the room and watched her curiously.
He stopped when he was standing behind her and wrapped his arms around her from the back. He rested his chin on her shoulder and Lizbeth sighed, calming down when she realized it was just him.
"Look at him," Henry told her in a low tone as the bag was removed from George's head.
George looked upwards, his eyes widening at the sight of Westminster Palace. It had been over ten years since he had last been there and it felt odd to be back, to say the least.
Lizbeth turned her head slightly to look at Henry, forcing herself to pay attention to Henry instead of the boy who was now a man, a man who had the chance of being her younger brother.
"Any fool can see he looks nothing like a York," Henry complained and Lizbeth tried to maintain composure as she stood beside him.
She hadn't seen George since he was fifteen, but even then, he looked so much like their mother.
"Are you alright?" Henry suddenly asked, snapping Lizbeth out of her thoughts.
Lizbeth turned to look at Henry, forcing a smile on her face. She nodded, trying to hide her uneasiness. "Yes, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" She lied and by the look he was giving her, Henry knew she was lying.
Henry sighed, giving her one last look before he was forced to leave the room. "Is the court assembled?" She could hear him ask Lord Stanley, who stood just outside the room.
"They await Your Grace's favor," Lord Stanley replied in a calm tone and Henry immediately walked past.
Lizbeth closed her eyes, taking a moment to regain composure before walking out of her room. She suddenly stopped, noticing the look on Lord Stanley's face.
He was studying her expression closely and she knew why. He was wondering the same thing she was. Was it George?
After all, he knew all about what happened in the Tower and it was his own son who let George get away.
Lizbeth sighed in defeat, avoiding eye contact with the man as she rushed past him.
_____
After getting dressed in Tudor colored clothing, Henry and Lizbeth were escorted into the throne. Their arms were linked as they made their way toward their thrones and while Henry maintained a face of stone, it was obvious that Lizbeth felt deeply uneasy about the whole ordeal.
The lords and the ladies of the court bowed as their king and queen walked past them and rose when they took a seat upon their thrones.
There was a moment of silence before the doors opened and Margaret entered with her ladies.
Soon after, George was escorted in by the guards and the moment he locked eyes on Lizbeth, he froze, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Lizbeth tensed up as well and despite trying to avoid eye contact with the young man, she found herself looking directly into his eyes.
George felt uneasy as he stared at his elder sister, whom he hadn't seen in almost twelve years.
"Your Grace," Margaret called out in a prideful tone, "I bring you the cause of England's troubles."
Margaret stepped out of the way and the moment she did so, the guards pushed George forward, causing him to fall straight to the ground in front of Lizbeth and Henry.
Lizbeth's breath became heavier as she leaned forward slightly. She watched George closely and as he rose back up, Lizbeth felt more terrified than she ever had before.
George lifted his head, looking directly into Lizbeth's eyes with a look on his face identical to the ones her own mother used to give her enemies.
It was the same look she herself gave people like Lord Stanley and Lady Margaret. It was simply something a person like the man standing before her could not give to her unless he was a true son of Nora.
"The money wasted, the lives lost, bringing you here," Henry suddenly spoke up, yet George's eyes remained on Lizbeth.
Henry watched closely, trying to contain his anger as he watched all of the boy's attention remain on Lizbeth.
George smiled kindly at his sister, despite them now being opposing sides. He didn't care at that moment. It was just relieving to see his favorite sister after so long.
"And all for what?" Henry continued on, letting out a large scoff, "A peasant boy. I will enjoy your execution. You'll be hung, drawn and quartered, so that the last thing that—"
"You should kill me," Geoge suddenly snapped at Henry as he finally stopped kindly smiling at his sister to turn to glare at her husband, "It's the only way you'll get away with staying upon my throne after you usurped it by murdering my poor brothers Arthur and Thomas in cold blood at the Battle at Bosworth."
The court began to whisper amongst themselves while Lizbeth stared at George in shock, as did Henry.
For someone who was supposedly not the son of Nora, he sure did tell people off like her. The shamelessness in the way he did it reminded Henry of both Lizbeth and her sister Katherine, a trait they inherited from their mother.
George turned to look directly at Lizbeth, standing proudly before her and her husband, the king. "I am the son of King Edward IV and Nora of Lancaster, the Queen in all but name. I am the rightful heir of King Arthur I after the death of Thomas, Prince of Wales. You thought I was murdered, but I am alive. Elizabeth Woodville made sure of it. So you will stand aside and return to me the crown and the throne which have been stolen from me, or you will face the mighty wrath of Almighty God, who will rage against your sin and cast you down into hell."
The court was shocked by George's speech and many began to whisper amongst themselves.
Henry, on the other hand, smiled in amusement as he began to clap for George's theatrics. "You have a way with words. Nora has taught you well in the eight years you spent with her," He complimented the boy in a mocking tone, "A fine performance. You have missed your calling."
Lizbeth began to quietly laugh, a smile forming on her lips after hearing Henry's comment.
"Perhaps you would wish to be a mummer in my court?" Henry suggested, causing numerous others to chuckle as he stood up and took a step toward George.
Henry stared at George closely for a moment, just before gesturing toward Lizbeth. "I will ask the Queen of England what to do, seeing as though you claim she is your sister," He spoke up, giving his wife a curious look, "Tell me, Queen Elizabeth, is this your kin?"
Lizbeth stared into Henry's eyes for a long moment before she finally brought herself to look at the boy who claimed to be her brother.
George smiled at her softly. He had a kind look on his face. He gave her a look that the real George used to give her. A look filled with kindness and innocence. The one that used to always make her think that if George were to ever been king, he would have been a good one. A kind and merciful one who would speak for both highborn and lowborn alike.
"All of my brothers are dead," She suddenly stated, causing George's face to fall and his smile fade as he found himself feeling betrayed.
Lizbeth gulped, quick to look away from George, who continued to look into her eyes.
George turned to look at Henry, beginning to glare at him because he knew right away he was the reason Lizbeth wasn't admitting out loud that the boy standing before them was, in fact, her brother.
All of their siblings knew about the love letters that Lizbeth used to send Henry as a girl and about the ones she'd get in return.
Still, George couldn't believe that Lizbeth was willing to choose Henry over her own brother.
"While I decide what to do with you, I shall make you a servant at our court. You shall be..." He trailed off, trying to think of a good position for George, "Knave of the wardrobe. You may care for the robes you covet. You may even sleep among them."
Henry turned to the guards and nodded, allowing George to be dragged away. As he was led away, George continued to keep his eyes locked on Lizbeth, trying to hide how betrayed he felt.
Henry turned to Lizbeth, who slowly stood up from her throne and reluctantly grabbed her husband's hand. They began to walk out of the throne room together, Margaret following close after them.
"He is an enemy of the crown!" Margaret complained, much to Lizbeth's annoyance, "You must make a show of killing him."
"An enemy backed by more than half of Europe, who may be mustering to come against me as we speak," Henry explained as he briefly turned to face his mother before he continued to walk with Margaret.
"He is a counterfeit!" Margaret exclaimed, causing Lizbeth to whip herself around to face the woman.
"Of course he is a counterfeit!" She shouted at Margaret in an aggravated tone, "You think we do not know that?"
Henry sighed in defeat, slowly turning to face Margaret alongside his wife. "He says himself that I must kill him as a threat, so I will not. I will not be commanded by him," He paused, turning to look at Lizbeth, "I will parade. Do you agree, my love?"
"I, um..." Lizbeth trailed off, unable to form the right words to respond to such a horrible idea.
"Drag him through the streets and show the world I have him. And then..." He trailed off, letting out a large sigh, "When he is humiliated, he will give up his claim, and his supporters will forget him."
"But they may not," Lizbeth reminded Henry, an uneasy look on her face, "The people of London may even believe his claim just because—"
"You must not do this," Margaret demanded in a stern tone, causing Henry to sigh in frustration.
"By killing him, the boy becomes a myth and martyr. His power, time times greater in the ballads that they sing," Henry complained to his wife and mother in a calm tone, "He must appear the maggot that he is so that Europe may be embarrassed to have had him at their table."
Henry glanced between both women, just before walking off. Lizbeth glanced over to Margaret briefly and then walked away without another word said.
____
It was morning time. Kathy, Harry, and Arthur stood together, looking out the window as they watched the Tudor guards roughly handle George, the man who was claiming to be their mother's brother.
"Don't you think he looks like Lady Mother a bit?" Arthur asked, a curious look on his face.
"He has the York look to him, I heard Mother tell one of her ladies," Kathy informed her brothers in a calm tone, "He looks just like her Lady Mother, she said."
"Isn't it just his hair?" Harry asked, turning to his elder brother and sister with a curious look on his face.
"Boys. Kathy," A voice called out, causing the trio to turn to see their Aunt Maggie standing before them.
"Why would he says that he's my Uncle George if—" Arthur began to ask and Maggie was quick to cut him off.
"Exactly," Maggie agreed with Arthur as she walked closer to him, "When he knows that it would get him into trouble. Well, he must believe it to be true, but then he wouldn't—"
"What are you saying to my children?" Lizbeth suddenly asked, causing Maggie to immediately turn to face her cousin, "Come outside. Come quickly now."
Harry and Kathy exchanged a look. Arthur was the first to walk forward, just before his younger brother and sister did the same.
"Lizbeth?" Maggie called out to Lizbeth after the children had left the room, "Have you spoken to him?"
Lizbeth remained silent for a long moment, trying to maintain composure before she continued on. "He is nothing like my brother. The George I knew was shy and nowhere near as confident as this imposter. It simply cannot be him."
Lizbeth forced a smile on her face. She glanced at Maggie one last time and with that, she left the room.
____
In the courtyard of Westminster, Lizbeth was assisting Arthur with his horse. However, her eyes were elsewhere and instead on George, whose eyes were fixed on Lizbeth as his wrists were being tied.
Lizbeth sighed, turning to look back at Arthur. "They purposely chose someone who looks like both my mother and my father to add to the deception," She explained to her son in a calm tone, "He is an enemy to our country and will try to take what is yours. Do you want that, Arthur?"
A saddened look on his face, Arthur shook his head and Lizbeth forced a smile on her face.
With that, Lizbeth walked away, making her way over to her own horse. She climbed onto her horse, which was the one beside Henry's.
"We are ready!" Margaret announced loudly.
Moments later, as they traveled through the streets of London, people threw food at George, who was being dragged by a horse, shirtless and barefoot.
"Behold, the enemy of England, the York pretender!" Lord Stanley shouted out and much to Lizbeth's horror, George didn't snap back.
He maintained composure.
As a girl, she remembered all of her siblings having her father's temper, all but George and Grace. Grace was just an easy-going girl who was never angry while George was like their mother. He had a temper, but he knew how to control it. He knew how to bottle it up and wait for the right moment to unleash it.
"The boy who's been a thorn in England's side," Lord Stanley continued on and George remained calm, allowing the people of England to throw food and muck at him.
"Spit at him!" Harry exclaimed loudly, a smile on his face while Arthur looked upset.
"No, throw stones!" Kathy argued, speaking louder than her brother.
Henry turned his head, smiling slightly at his daughter in amusement while Lizbeth shook her head in disapproval. She felt uneasy and upset, feeling the same way her eldest son felt at that moment.
It wasn't right.
"He made you go to war and lose your kinsmen!" Lord Stanley shouted out, continuing on with trying to rile up the crowd.
"And he has cost you dear in taxes," Margaret added in, knowing it would add fuel to the already blazing fire.
"I do not blame you, the good people of London," George spoke up in a calm tone, a sympathetic look on his face, "I do not blame my sister, either. She is trying to do what my mother could not. Protect her children. Her sons."
Gradually, the small folk began to stop and the moment he noticed it, Lord Stanley was quick to speak up. "He is a liar and he insults the memory of your Queen's departed brother!"
"My sister is a natural queen. Just like our mother. And there will be no pleasure in taking that from her," George continued on and the small folk stopped throwing food and stones altogether at that moment.
"'Take it from her'. Hear his gall!" Lord Stanley shouted out loudly, only to exchange an uneasy look with Margaret when they no longer saw the people of London throwing food and shouting profanities at George.
They were listening to him.
As George spoke to the people, they found themselves thinking back to how Nora was able to talk her way out of anything. They found themselves thinking back to how much Nora helped them in the past.
"Two years before our father's death, our mother sent us all to Bedford Castle for an entire week, do you remember?!" George asked Lizbeth, who tried to ignore him, "Mother said it was so we could get some time away from court, but we knew the truth. Thomas had gotten into a fight with someone in these here streets. You and Arthur had intervened as well. We all got in trouble for it. Father was holding a feast during that week and to punish us, Mother sent us to Bedford Castle that we would miss it."
George took a deep breath, just before continuing on. "We were practicing archery at Bedford Castle. You and Thomas were laughing at me for messing up and Arthur stuck up for me. I didn't feel like hearing you all bicker so I decided that I wanted to ride my horse through the woods. I called him Dancer. I was left alone for a while and bandits attacked me in the woods. Mother always warned us about bandits being in those woods but we never listened. Arthur saved me, with the help of Thomas. Thomas used his bow to shoot an arrow right through the back of the man who was holding a knife to my throat. They killed the bandits, despite all of us still being children. You returned to us with a sword in your hand, covered in blood. You refused to talk about what had happened and we all agreed that it should stay that way. We all promised each other that night that we would never speak about what happened ever again. We promised to take the secret to the grave."
Lizbeth's eyes widened. She tensed up, turning to George with a glare. She tried to contain her sadness as she locked eyes with George.
"The three of you knew our mother would have gone ballistic if she heard that I had nearly gotten hurt," George continued on and Lizbeth began to tear up, "'Her precious George', you and Thomas used to mock me. The two of you always thought Mother loved me more than you two. I never got into trouble and even after Katherine and Edmund were born, I was always treated me like the baby of the family. Mother had given birth to me in secret in her chambers when her uncle Henry had briefly become king for a second time. She didn't want any kids after she had me. She nearly bled out while giving birth to me. It was my cry that had woken her up out of her slumbering state. If I had been a girl, Mother used to say that I would have been named Hope because I was her hope in a time where she was surrounded by enemies with Father nor Richard around. She had our Uncle George, though. He might have been posing like the enemy, but she knew. She knew he'd never let harm come to her. He was in love with her, I think. I was named after him. The only person who gave her the slightest bit of safety in a time like that when I was born."
The people of London began to made a thudding noise with any object they could find and Margaret was quick to order the guards to take George back to the castle. The people were starting to side with him.
"I miss you, Lizbeth," George called out, a saddened look on his face, "I wish that you would speak to me. The rest of our siblings are dead. There is none but us. We must have each other's back, Lizbeth," He paused, watching as Lizbeth slowly turned to look him in the eyes, "But I understand if you do not. I understand if you choose your children and your husband over me, your brother. I dare say I would do the same in your shoes. I will forgive you if you choose to do so. And I know Mother would, too. You are her daughter, after all. Her firstborn. Some would say she loved you more than any of her other children. You were hers, no one else's. She didn't have to worry about sending you off to battle like she did her sons. You were hers and hers alone."
A small gasp escaped Lizbeth's parted lips as she looked down at George. It was him.
"This way! This way!" Lord Stanley suddenly shouted, snapping Lizbeth out of her trance-like state.
She quickly looked away from George, following her husband and Lord Stanley back into the courtyard of Westminster.
____
The moment Lizbeth entered her chambers, she closed the door before her ladies could enter as well. She slammed the door closed and pressed her back against it.
She cried out, but was quick to bite her lip to conceal the rest of her cries before anyone could hear her.
She took a deep breath, trying to contain her sadness as she took a seat on the ground. She placed her face in her hands. "Why?" She whispered softly to herself, "Why must this happen? Why must you punish me in such a way?"
Lizbeth couldn't contain herself and began to cry out.
She would have to choose.
She would have to choose between her husband and her children, and her mother and brother. How could she be forced to make such an ultimatum?