ROYAL BLOOD
— 38. The Head and The Heart
1478
It was just after George, Edward's brother's, death. Nora slowly walked into the room Edward had stormed off to after George's execution.
She walked in, finding Edward crying, which was something she had seen all of twice since she first met him. He had clearly gone there so that he would not be seen mourning his brother's death, especially since he had been to pass the sentence.
Nora slowly walked over to him and Edward lifted his head to look at her. If it had been anyone else entering that room, he would have shouted at them or even threw something at them for seeing him in such a weak state.
Nora wasn't just anyone, though. He trusted her more than anyone. She was practically a part of him.
"Edward," She called out softly, making her way over to him.
Edward slowly turned to look at her, tears welled in his eyes. "Oh, Edward," She whispered, immediately rushing to hug him.
Edward was sitting down when he hugged Nora, who was standing upright.
"I can't do this anymore," Edward whispered softly as Nora held him close to her chest, "It has cost me so much. My own brother included. God, what sane man would ever want to be king? I can't...I can't do this anymore, Nora."
"You can," Nora assured him in a whisper as Edward stared up at her with a hopeless look on his face, "I felt this same way once, Edward. It gets better. I swear it. You can do this. And you don't have to do it alone. I will stand by you, just as I always have. I promise. But you must stay strong."
"I can't stay strong," Edward confessed, a hopeless look on his face, "I'm beginning to think I never was strong."
"You are strong, Edward," Nora argued in a stern tone as she cupped his face in her hands and forced him to look her in the eye, "You are God's Anointed King. You are England's king and you are my king. You must stay strong, Edward. And I shall help you."
Nora leaned closer to Edward, continuing to hold his face in her hands. "I help you through this. I promise. We will get through this. Together," She explained and Edward nodded, just before they both hugged.
present
It was the middle of the night and Lizbeth laid in bed, unable to sleep with the spot next to her vacant. Why wasn't Henry with her? He always slept in bed beside her at night. Always. Even if he was done with Kingly duties late, he always arrived sooner or later.
Now, it had been two days that Lizbeth had been forced to sleep alone in what felt like years.
Not being able to take it anymore, Lizbeth climbed out of bed and walked through the passageway. She made her way into Henry's room, only to frown when she saw that his bed was empty. Was he with her? Was he with Cathy Gordon?
Lizbeth gritted her teeth, beginning to breathe heavily as she tried to control her anger. Her chest heaved and it felt as though all she could see was red as returned to her room.
She didn't sleep at all that night. When morning came, her ladies dressed her and she made her way down the hallway. She knew she wasn't imagining it. Everyone's eyes were all on her. They were all whispering about her. They knew. They knew of what Henry had done.
Henry was the fool, though. The people who followed him out of love for Lizbeth would revolt against him once they heard that he shamed her.
Without a care in the world, Lizbeth had barged into the room where Henry was speaking with some of his most trusted advisors. "Stop avoiding like a coward. Have you had her?" She asked angrily, causing Henry to stop where he was to turn to look at her.
Henry remained silent, continuing to stare at her as he didn't say a word. "Damn you, Henry. Answer me!" Lizbeth growled at her, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
Henry turned to his servants, on the verge of telling them to leave when Lizbeth spoke up once more. "Oh, they all may stay. The whole court already knows about what you've done."
Lord Stanley and Sir Richard exchanged an awkward look with each other, just before leaving the room with the rest of the advisors that had been in there.
The moment the door closed, Lizbeth turned to Henry, on the verge of crying. "Do you ever consider what I endure?" She asked, her voice cracking, "You disrespect me. You shame me before the court and everybody gossips."
"Your mother did the same to Elizabeth Woodville with your father. And then to Anne Neville as well when she involved herself with Richard," Henry answered in a calm tone.
"My mother loved them!" Lizbeth snapped at him coldly, "And if you haven't realized it by now, I am not her."
Lizbeth watched Henry closely, frowning when he didn't respond to what she had said. "Are you saying that you love her?"
"Do you love him?" Henry suddenly asked, causing Lizbeth to frown in confusion, "The boy. Do you love him?"
"Of course I don't, Henry! He is my..." She trailed off, watching as Henry turned to her with wide eyes, "He is my burden." She quickly corrected herself and sighed in defeat.
"Are you sure he is just that?" Henry suddenly asked, giving her an accusing look, "Everything I do to taunt him, his eyes wander to you. He always seems to worry about you. Not his own wife as I spend time with her."
"So you shame me just to taunt him because I am his weakness," Lizbeth realized, letting out a large scoff as she looked at Henry, "You're pathetic."
"The truth is, Cathy is married to the boy so who is the fool if I am bedding her?" He changed the subject and the moment she saw the look he was giving her, he was quick to correct himself, "If people think I am bedding her. The world will see that she is not with the boy but with me, and King James and all the men who would fight for him because of his marriage to Lady Catherine will no longer do so."
"So just to win your point with him you would dishonor me, your own wife?" She asked again, a look of disapproval on her face.
"To win a war against him, I will play whatever cards I must," He replied and Lizbeth frowned, her eyes widening when she found familiarity in her conversation she was having with Henry to the one she had with Arthur many years prior.
"You sound like him," She whispered, smiling sadly as tears formed in her eyes, "You sound just like Arthur and we know how he ended up. After all, you were the one to kill him."
"Stop it," Henry snapped at Lizbeth coldly, the two of them knowing that Henry's weakness was when Lizbeth dared to mention Arthur.
"Careful, Henry. Many people in England only follow you out of love of me. They'll turn against if you if they think you shame me," Lizbeth warned her husband as she took a threatening step toward him, "I have been your wife for nearly ten years now. I betrayed my mother and my sister for you. I choose you over them. I am in a castle filled with people who are responsible for my family's deaths and it was all for you. I do it all for you and this is how you repay you? By shaming me to prove a point to a peasant boy you're worried is going to steal your crown?"
"A peasant boy who is backed by more than half of Europe," Henry argued with Lizbeth in a stern tone.
"Then perhaps if you weren't such a horrible fucking king, he wouldn't have that support!" She screamed at him, causing Henry's eyes to widen as he felt himself hurt.
"You don't mean that," Henry argued in a stern tone and Lizbeth smiled at him.
"Of course I do. I wouldn't say if it weren't true so don't expect me to take it back. You don't rule this kingdom. Your mother does. You allow her to play king and she is the reason this war started in the first place whether you want to believe it or not. You allowed yourself to believe she was right when she said you were destined to be king. You weren't, Henry! Four of my brothers, two of my half-brothers, and my uncle had to be killed for you to be the bloody king of England. I love you, I do, but you are not God's Anointed King. You never were. If you were God's anointed king, seven males with York blood running through their veins wouldn't have had to be brutally murdered for you to be king. Three of them no older than eleven. My brothers."
"So you believe it, then. You believe this pretender should be king over me. Your own husband," Henry growled at Lizbeth, who was quick to argue.
"I never said," She argued, causing Henry to scoff loudly.
"Do you not realize that if I weren't king anymore, it would mean that our sons would die? If I am dead and overthrown, our sons would have to die as well. There would always be men trying to put them on the throne," Henry explained to Lizbeth as he walked toward her, "Perhaps you don't care about what happens to me if we are overthrown, but I know you care about our sons."
"How dare you say I don't care about you!" Lizbeth cried out, giving Henry a look of betrayal, "I risked everything to be with you. I betrayed everyone I ever cared about for you. My own family. I loved you for years, despite all that you did to wrong my family, including killing my brother, so don't you dare say I don't care about you." Lizbeth roughly shoved Henry backwards, just before walking toward the door, "Go have fun with your new mistress. Don't bother returning to me. I don't want you. I can't even stand to look at you."
"Lizbeth—" Henry began to say, only to be cut off as the door was slammed in his face. He sighed in frustration, cursing under his breath.
____
Lizbeth found herself standing in the room that George's son, Edmund, was being kept it. The 'child' laid in his cradle, crying as the midwife refused to pick him up while Lizbeth was in the room.
Lizbeth didn't even seem to realize that the child was not the same one that had arrived nearly six months prior.
Seeing that someone was walking in, Lizbeth turned her head, finding that it was Margaret walking in. "They called him Edmund. Like my murdered brother," Lizbeth informed Margaret, for once not mentioning the fact that they both knew it was Margaret who had been responsible for Edmund's death.
"What do you see?" Margaret suddenly asked, causing Lizbeth to lift her head to look the woman in the eye, "An innocent? Your dear, sweet nephew?"
"Of course not," Lizbeth quickly replied, despite knowing that she was lying. She sighed, slowly looking back down at the crying baby.
"Of course you do," Margaret retorted after a moment of silence as she watched Lizbeth closely, studying the younger woman's expression, "It is hard, I know. But in the world in which we move, we cannot see an infant as he is, but as what he'll become."
Lizbeth quietly scoffed. She finally realized Margaret's reasoning behind killing her brothers. She didn't understand it, though. She didn't know how Margaret had what it took to kill three innocent boys and two innocent girls. She knew she'd never had what it took to do such a thing. She wasn't a monster.
And she knew what Margaret was doing at that moment. She was trying to say they were the same, but they weren't. Lizbeth would never let herself become Margaret. Not in a million years.
"Like God, we must see Alpha and Omega. The beginning and the end," Margaret continued on and Lizbeth sighed deeply, looking down at the baby boy once more, "My son does his duty by wooing Lady Catherine. She cares for him, he returns it."
"And in doing so, he shames me, the woman he claims he loves," Lizbeth muttered under her breath as she balled her hand into a tight, angry fist.
"Men are weak, Lizbeth, swayed by beauty. Women must be stronger," Margaret informed Lizbeth, who slowly looked up at her with wide eyes, "The saying must sound familiar to you. That is because I learned it from your mother when we were both girls. She learned it from her own mother. I might not like your mother, but she knew to use her head and not her heart when making decisions. It is time you do the same."
Margaret nodded at Lizbeth. With that, she turned on her heel and left the room, leaving Lizbeth alone with the child she assumed was her nephew.
____
In the throne room, Lizbeth and Henry sat upon their thrones. The people of the court filled the room and Cathy stood off to the side, watching the scene closely.
George stood before the court, looking down at the piece of paper he had just been handed.
"Read it," Lizbeth spoke up, causing George to turn to give her a questioning look, "Read it out loud."
George cautiously opened up the folded letter, only to frown when he learned that they wanted him to read a pre-written confession that named him a boatman's son from Tournai named Perkin Warbeck.
"Perkin Warbeck," George spoke up in a calm tone, lifting his head to look Lizbeth in the eye, "The humble son of a boatman in Tournai. Is this some kind of joke?"
"Confess you are a no one," Lizbeth insisted in a calm tone, "Prove that you are no threat to us by doing so and you will live. Reveal your true identity."
George frowned at his sister, knowing for a fact that she knew he was, indeed, her brother. He sighed, turning to exchange a look with Cathy, who watched him intently.
"My name..." George trailed off, beginning to read the paper out loud. He froze, allowing the piece of paper to fall to the ground before looking Henry directly in the eyes. "...is Prince George of York!"
The people began to whisper amongst themselves and George turned to look directly at Lizbeth. "I am your brother. Your last living brother and you know it."
"Read it and your family will live, George!" Lizbeth screamed at her brother as she jumped out of her seat and began to walk toward him.
Henry and Margaret's eyes widened, both of them turning to Lizbeth in horror. Were they the only ones who noticed how Lizbeth had called him George?
"Do not read it, George. Don't deny your birthright!" Cathy demanded in a stern tone, causing Lizbeth to turn to the woman.
She glared at her hatefully and George glanced between his wife and sister, both of them publicly addressing him as his true identity. Lizbeth hadn't even noticed what she had done by doing so.
"His child will be brought up by a family in London," Margaret suddenly announced, causing everyone's attention to go to her instead.
"What?" Cathy asked in disbelief.
"You killed my sisters Grace and Katherine and my younger brothers. Now, you wish to do the same to my son?" George loudly accused Margaret, glaring at her hatefully, "You have no right!"
Henry rolled his eyes, clearly not taking George's accusations seriously. "Oh, we have every right," He answered in a calm tone and Lizbeth turned to him with wide eyes. He rose up from his throne, beginning to stalk toward George in a threatening manner. "If you come here and you threaten my life and my family's life, then your own son will be forfeit."
"No," Cathy argued, tears forming in her eyes.
"God curses you and your family," George growled at Henry angrily, "He curses you and you will go to hell," He paused, turning to shoot a glare at Lizbeth, "And you will, too. You dare stand back and let them take my son, your nephew, after what they did to our sisters and brothers. Grace died in your arms after Lady Margaret poisoned her and still, you side with them. How dare you!"
Henry glared at George, beginning to push past George and Cathy alongside his guards.
Cathy began to follow after Henry, hoping to beg for his son's life. "No, Henry. Please, Henry. Please, don't! I beg you!"
Lizbeth slowly turned to George, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She gave him an apologetic look, only to have him shoot her a glare before looking away.