ROYAL BLOOD
— 42. Murderer
Outside, in the gardens at Westminster, Kathy, Harry, and Arthur stood together, practicing archery. Lizbeth stood near them, watching as her eldest children shot arrows into their targets.
Margaret hadn't been happy about Henry allowing his daughter to join her brothers in such activities, but as always, the moment his daughter begged him to do so, he allowed it.
Lizbeth wanted to cry as she watched Arthur and Harry shoot their bows with their sister. All she could think about was the curse. It was all she thought about lately. She found herself thinking of nothing else.
"Kathy, stop it, give me the arrow," Harry complained, trying to take the arrow away from his sister while Arthur's eyes wandered over to their mother.
She was worried about something, he could feel it and if she was that worried, he knew it meant everyone else should be worried as well.
However, the moment Kathy's bow hit him the back of the head while Kathy and Harry fought over the arrow she was holding, Arthur's attention went back to his younger siblings.
The three of them laughed as they play fought each other while Lizbeth turned to Sir Richard, "I want the princes busy at their favorite pursuits today. Their sister may join them," She ordered and Richard nodded as he turned to face her, "They can do what they want, but they must be kept occupied."
"Your Grace," he responded, nodding his head in understanding.
Lizbeth's attention immediately went to Maggie as she joined the group, seeing as though she hadn't seen her the entire day. "I looked for you, earlier," She complained as Maggie politely curtsied, "Before it was light, I could not find you."
Maggie looked up at her cousin, trying to force a smile. "I was here," She lied in a calm tone, "I was walking in the courtyard. The smell of burning made me feel ill."
"Where is Cathy Gordon?" Lizbeth suddenly asked as Maggie began to walk away.
Maggie slowly turned to face Lizbeth, trying to hide her uneasiness. "I do not know, Your Grace. I have not seen her," She replied as she shook her head.
She sent Lizbeth an awkward smile, just before walking over to Harry, Arthur, and Kathy. She watched as Kathy shot an arrow, which ended up making the bullseye.
"Oh, well done, Princess Katherine!" Maggie praised the young girl, a large smile on her face as she clapped.
Kathy's lips curled upwards as she turned to Arthur with a daring look. "Try beating that, big brother," She mocked him and Harry giggled.
"Haha, Arthur. Kathy's a girl and even she beat you," Harry teased his brother, who rolled his eyes at his younger siblings.
"Harry, Kathy, stop bullying your brother," Lizbeth scolded her son and daughter, both of which turned to their mother in disbelief.
"We weren't bullying!" Harry complained loudly.
"Yeah, we were merely stating facts, Mother. Arthur is horrible at archery and should be ashamed that his little sister beat him," Kathy explained in detail and while Arthur looked disappointed, Harry giggled in amusement.
"Enough," Lizbeth demanded in a stern tone and just as she was about to scold them, she turned her head to see the Spanish Ambassador approaching them.
She glanced over at her children before approaching the man.
As she watched her mother leave, Kathy scoffed loudly. "Always sticking up for her darling Arthur. What about her other children?" Kathy complained, turning to Arthur with an angry look, "Just because you're Prince of Wales, doesn't mean the rest of us should be treated like nothing."
"You think I have something to do with how Mother treats you and Harry?" Arthur asked, an ashamed look on his face, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be the favorite."
"It's okay. I wouldn't want to be Mother's favorite anyway," Kathy admitted as she shrugged her shoulders, "All of her favorites end up dying. Look at your namesake. He died, too, and he was Mother's favorite brother. Be careful, brother. You might end up just like him for being so close to Mother."
"Katherine!" Maggie scolded the girl, her eyes wide in horror as she stared down at the girl, "That isn't nice to say."
"I am a Tudor, but I am part York, too. As are you. You can't stand here and say the Yorks who died after the Battle of Bosworth aren't dead because of Mother's marriage to Father," Kathy explained in a venomous tone, causing Maggie to tense up as she exchanged an uneasy look with her husband.
They both remained silent, not responding to Kathy's statement.
Across the yard, however, Lizbeth met with Señor De Puebla, who stood with two other Spaniards. "Señor De Puebla," She greeted the man in a calm tone.
"Your Grace," The man replied, bowing before the English Queen, "I carry a private message from Queen Isabella to you. From one mother to another. She thought you understood each other and now she wonders if you insult her and her daughter?"
"There is no insult," Lizbeth stated calmly as she shook her head, "I have the matter in hand."
Señor De Puebla smiled slightly at Lizbeth. He bowed to her once more, just before leaving with the two men who had come with him.
As he walked away, Lizbeth tried to remain calm, despite feeling deeply uneasy. What the hell was she doing?
_____
Henry had arrived at the Tower of London. He opened the small opening in the door, his eyes locking on George.
However, as George slowly turned to look at him, Henry closed the opening before turning to address the guards. "Move him to be with the Earl of Warwick," He ordered in a stern tone, causing the guard to give him a puzzled look, "Now."
With that, Henry turned on his heel, beginning to walk away with an uneasy look on her face.
_____
At Westminster Palace, Lizbeth walked into the room where Bishop Morton sat with a few others. The man immediately looked up, confused when he saw the woman standing before him. "Your Grace?" He called out in confusion and rose to his feet, "Scotland is readying armies to come against us."
"Who brought you this news?" Lizbeth asked, already thinking up a plan to use to fix everything.
"The new clerk," Bishop Morton answered in a calm tone, causing Lizbeth to turn to see an unknown man walking toward them wearing all black.
"Burgundy and Ireland wait for the tides and the weather to be in their favor," The man informed his queen in a calm tone.
"Well, my mother has been busy, has she not?" Lizbeth commented in an annoyed tone and slowly turned to look at the man once more, "I require your assistance."
The man nodded, ready to obey her commands. Lizbeth began to smile, satisfied that she had been able to get to him before Margaret or Bishop Morton could sink their claws into him.
"Oh, Your Grace, you must allow me—" Bishop Morton began to say, clearly already knowing what she was doing by choosing Wolsey over him.
"No, my Lord Cardinal," Lizbeth answered in an almost taunting tone as she turned to face him once more, "You are busy and my lady, the king's mother, may need you."
She sent him a small smile, just before walking away.
_____
At Newgate Prison, Lizbeth stood behind a wooden wall and looked through the opening at the prisoners located inside.
Wolsey stood off to the side of the prisoners, waiting for Lizbeth to pick out of the crown. He slowly turned to face her, watching as she pointed at toward a man who looked most like her brother.
"Him," She told him in a calm tone and Wolsey immediately told one of the prison guards to bring the struggling man over.
"Name?" Wolsey asked the man who gave him a bored look.
"Noah Luff," He answered in a bored tone.
"Crime?" He questioned and Lizbeth listened closely, hoping it was something bad and worth using him for the plan.
"Defilin' a church," Noah replied, earning a small scoff from Lizbeth as Wolsey made his way over to her while Noah was dragged away.
"Tutor him," Lizbeth instructed Wolsey, who nodded in understanding, "He must be word perfect. We can't have him making any mistakes."
"Your Grace," Wolsey responded, smiling slightly as he nodded his head and walked away.
____
That day, after being summoned, Margaret entered the room that Henry was sitting in near the large cross that rested next to the window.
Once hearing him enter, Henry raised his head and slowly stood up. "Thank you for coming."
"You do not need to thank me, I come as soon as I am bid," She replied calmly as Henry turned to face her and began to walk toward her, "Henry. Henry, you have moved the imposter to be with the idiot..."
"You have eyes everywhere," Henry complained, trying to contain his already boiling anger.
"It will look to your lords, to everybody, as if you believe him," Margaret continued on and Henry tilted his head at her.
"There's a symmetry to it, don't you think? Then as now, two York boys with a claim in the one room," Henry told his mother, who tried to hide her uneasiness, "The boy is who he says he is."
Margaret was silent for a long moment, just before finally forcing herself to speak up. "Then King Richard was careless," She paused, taking a moment to think of what to say before she turned to Henry once more, "And now you must finish it and get rid of him."
Henry froze at that moment as he stared at his mother. At that moment, he knew once and for all. Lizbeth had been right. For years, she had been right and he refused to believe her. He threw away every chance they had for a normal life to be King, all because his mother said it was God's will and he was foolish enough to believe her. Now, there was no turning back. If he gave up the throne, he and his sons would surely die.
Lizbeth was right all along. It wasn't God's Will. If it was God's will, Lizbeth's uncle, Arthur, Thomas, Edmund, and her half brothers Edward and Richard would not have had to die. Everything was his fault and now, he couldn't take it back.
This entire war started because of his mother and her jealousy toward Nora and it took ten years for him to realize it.
Nora had every reason to hate his family and wage war. Now, he couldn't even take it back. All this time, he thought Nora had betrayed the familial bond they once had, but in truth, it was him who ruined it.
"It is what is necessary," Margaret continued on and slowly, Henry walked toward her.
"Mother," He called out in a soft tone as he grabbed her hands and stared down at her, "I am of your flesh. You made me. I have been advised by so many who do not know what it is to be standing where I am standing, to make decisions, to do what is necessary and I would be counseled by you because I believe that you do know."
"I know?" Margaret asked as she stared up at her son with a puzzled look on her face.
"Mother," Henry spoke up in a whisper, placing her hands near her shoulders, "I believe it was you who killed the boys in the Tower and Katherine Plantagenet. I already know that you killed Grace."
"No—" Margaret argued, only to be cut off as Henry placed a hand on her cheek.
"Your past actions would resolve me, help me to do what must be done," He continued to speak to her with a kind smile on his face, despite it being fake, "Was it you? Did you kill Nora's children?"
Margaret continued to stare up at Henry, looking to be in a trance. "Sometimes, Henry, politics take place under the cloak of night."
Henry pulled his hands away from his mother, finding himself overwhelmed with both guilt and fury. "You did it," He whispered softly, tears beginning to form in his eyes at the thought.
All this time, he believed his mother when she said Nora's only reasoning for this war was because she was a madwoman who was angry for losing her place of power.
She wasn't mad, though. She was angry he and his mother were the reason for her losing everything she ever cared about. And now, he couldn't even take it back.
"There are things that are necessary, for the greater good, things that must be done," Margaret continued on in a calm tone.
"Killing Nora's children had to be done?" Henry questioned, letting out a large scoff, "I don't believe that."
Feeling uneasy, Margaret grabbed ahold of Henry's hands. "We will be together on this, Henry. Let your mother guide you."
"What mother you are," Henry growled lowly, causing Margaret to stare at him in disbelief, "I'm beginning to believe that Nora was more of a mother to me than you ever were."
"You don't mean that," Margaret argued and Henry continued on.
"There is a curse," Henry answered in a calm tone.
"What curse?" Margaret asked, her eyes widening in shock.
"Lizbeth told me that her sister Lizzie and Elizabeth Woodville placed a curse on the killer of her and Nora's sons. The sons who died in the Tower. A curse, Mother. A blight on their male line. No heirs. They will sicken and die."
"A story to scare peasants, not a king," Margaret argued as she shook her head in disagreement.
"Elizabeth Woodville had the craft, everyone said so. The pure hatred and need for vengeance she had toward her enemies made that craft powerful. If you added it to that of what Nora felt, it would be sure to work in their favor."
"The only craft those two whores ever had was making themselves pleasing to men—" Margaret began to say, only to be cut off as Henry grabbed her in a chokehold and roughly slammed her against the wall.
Margaret tried to fight against Henry, but she struggled to do so as Henry's grip on her neck only began tighter. "You've cursed my sons. You've damned them. You! Their own grandmother! You've put the mark of death on them...You are a butcher of innocence! You are the reason Nora started this war in the first place! You are a killer of children! Nora's children!" He roared, roughly pushing her back as he stepped away from her, "And now you have killed mine."
He stepped toward her again, beginning to choke her once more before he finally let go. Margaret gasped for breath as her body hit the ground.
"You're a monster," Henry growled as he took a step away from her, "For years, I've defended you against them. I chose you over my own wife. I refused to believe her when she said you killed her brothers and sisters and the whole time, she was right!" He shouted, tears beginning to form in his eyes, "I had the chance for a normal life! I could have been happy with her in Wales and not as King! You forced this upon me. You forced me to become King. You made me think I had no other choice," He paused, crying out, "You told me killing the man who was like a brother to me was the only way I could survive and I was foolish enough to believe you. I was foolish enough to believe all you wanted was for me to be happy, but that wasn't the case. You wanted power for yourself! And now, it's too late. I've lost everything because of you, even the woman I love, and now, I must be king, even when it's the last thing I want to be. I have to be for the sake of my sons. For if I'm not, their lives would always be at risk."
Henry turned away from his mother, walking over to the door before opening it. He then walked back over to his mother, who wailed as he roughly grabbed her by the legs and dragged her toward the door. "You should have left me in France. I wish to Christ I was still there now, and away from your poison."
Everyone's heads turned as they heard Margaret's screams. Their eyes widened at the sight of Henry dragged her out of the room by her feet.
He threw her to the ground, just before looking up at his men while angrily pointing down at her. "She does not come near me. She does not speak to me. She does not speak for me. Nobody listens to her. If you defy my orders, I'll have your heads myself."
With that, Henry turned on his heel and walked away.
___
At the Tower of London, Maggie laughed happily as she entered her brother's room to find him standing there while George sat on the bed.
"Oh, I've missed you!" Maggie told her brother with a large smile on her face as she hugged him tightly.
George stared up at the sibling duo, a smile on his face.
"Oh, I can't breathe," Teddy complained due to how tightly his sister was hugging him.
"I have missed you," Maggie told her brother as she pulled away from the hug and held up a basket filled with materials she thought her brother and cousin would benefit from having, "I have brought you warm shirts, and um, fresh bread and meat and apples."
Teddy took the basket from his sister's grasp before he walked over to his bed near the window.
Once the guard closed the door, Maggie smiled, keeping her eyes fixed on Teddy while she spoke to George, who was smiling for his cousin Teddy.
He hadn't known Teddy all that well as a child, but now that they were sharing a room, he got to know him better.
He might have been simple-minded as everyone liked to call him, but George paid no mind to that. Teddy was family and he loved him no matter what. He understood why his mother was so fond of the boy. He was filled with happiness, despite all his hardships. George could only wish to be as happy as Teddy was in his situation.
"Your mother is close by," Maggie whispered to George softly, causing him to lift his head to give her a shocked look, "Cathy is safe with her."
"What of my son?" George asked in a worried tone.
"The Tudors never got their hands on your son. The moment Prince Edmund was ripped from Cathy's arms by the midwives, Nora had your son switched out with another baby that same night. He was taken to safety outside of England by Lizzie. She will protect him until it's safe for him to return," She explained, causing George to sigh in relief, "Your mother hasn't told Cathy, though, and we must keep it that way, for whatever reason your mother has behind doing so, it's sure to work in our favor."
George remained silent, nodding his head in understanding while Maggie continued on.
"Armies gather for you," Maggie informed George as she smiled over at Teddy, "This tower will be torn open and they will carry you on their shoulders to Westminster."
"No, I will walk," George argued as he smiled happily at the news, causing them both to chuckle.
George turned to look at Teddy, a large smile on his face. "I cannot wait to see my son again. He must be three by now," He told Maggie before he spoke to Teddy, "What will you have, Teddy? When we are freed?"
With a piece of bread in his mouth, Teddy turned to the duo, a sheepish smile on his face. "A dog. A friendly dog."
"You may have as many as you wish, cousin," George replied happily, causing Maggie to smile as well, "A hundred dogs, all of them friendly."
The group of three began to laugh and Maggie slowly turned to George. It felt like forever since someone had been genuinely kind to Teddy and George was just that.
In truth, George was always kind to anyone he had met.
He would make the perfect king.