BLOODLINES
— 6. Ill Wishing
Underneath the castle, Marie stood with Harry, both of them holding swords. Marie tightly grabbed the handle of the sword, looking down at the blade with a weird look on her face. "This sword is blunt," She complained, looking uneasy as Harry swung his sword downwards at her.
She quickly lifted her blade, blocking his form of attack so easily that it even impressed Harry. However, he wasn't going to admit that out loud. Not yet, at least.
She retracted her sword and swung at him, using two hands to grasp the handle.
Harry blocked her attack and smiled down at her as their blades deadlocked. He used one hand to hold his sword, clearly trying to show off.
"They both are," Harry replied as Marie smiled back at her, "We wouldn't want you cutting yourself now, would we?"
"Oh, don't flatter yourself, love. I could still hurt with this..." She trailed off, tilting her head as she gave him a daring look, "Even without the sword. You and I both know it."
"You do have a point there," Harry admitted before pushing all his weight against his blade.
Marie grunted, stumbling back before she steadied herself. She straightened her back up, watching Harry closely as he circled her with his sword pointed downwards.
He purposely yelled out as he raised his sword and swung at her once more. Marie ended up blocking his blade with hers and pushed them until both blades were pointed downwards.
Harry sighed, trying to hide his defeat as he turned to glance at Marie, who smiled at him tauntingly. Their faces were just inches apart and Harry smirked slightly as he glanced down at her. "I could so easily kiss you right now," He whispered to her almost seductively.
"You won't, though," Marie replied, continuing to smile at him tauntingly.
"And why's that?" Harry asked in a whisper, continuing to gradually lean forward.
"Because..." The Burgundian girl trailed off and as her lips brushed against hers, Marie roughly elbowed him by the gut.
Harry grunted as he stumbled backward, clutching his gut. He bent forward slightly. "Okay..." He managed to get out, grunting in pain, "You had me there."
Marie smiled at him daringly, pointing the tip of her sword at him as she walked around him. Finally, Harry recovered and wasted no time slashing at her with his sword.
She deflected it before pressing her own blade against his throat. Harry laughed lowly, arching his back as he tried to avoid getting cut with the blunt sword. "And here I thought you couldn't get any more exquisite. Who knew a woman with a sword would be so damn beautiful," he flirted, earning an annoyed look from Marie.
"You're trying to distract me and it won't work," Marie scolded him as Harry tapped out. She smiled playfully, slowly stepping back as lightly pressed the tip of her sword against his chest.
She smirked mischievously, the tip of her sword scraping against the ground as she slowly walked toward the door.
Harry frowned, turning his head as he watched her walk away. "What, have you already had enough, sweet Marie?" he asked her tauntingly, slowly beginning to follow after her.
Harry rushed forward, on the verge of swinging when her back was turned.
Marie whipped herself around and lifted her sword, her blade becoming deadlocked with Harry's.
The duo was so preoccupied with sparring each other they hadn't even noticed Oviedo and Lena, Catherine's lady, were seeing what they were doing.
Harry yelled out as he used all the strength he had to force her sword to point toward the ground alongside his.
"You fight almost like a real soldier," Marie taunted him, a smile playing at her lips.
"I am every inch the soldier," Harry whispered to Marie as he stared deeply into her blue eyes.
"Hmm. Is that so?" Marie paused, slowly beginning to lean forward as she stared down at his lips, "Are you a real man, though, huh?"
"I am," Harry replied confidently, "I could show you, if you wish."
"Do it, then," Marie challenged him, only to have her smile fade when she looked down to see the blade she formerly had deadlocked down to the ground, Harry's blade, was slowly creeping up her leg.
While she was distracted, Harry grabbed her by the wrist and pulled Marie toward him. Marie grunted as her back collided with Harry's chest. Harry placed his left arm over Marie's front, right over her chest to hold her against him while he used his other hand to hold his blade to her neck. "I am every inch the commander, too, if you'd like to know," He informed her as Marie smiled while looking down at the sword and how he purposely placed his arm over her chest just to have an excuse to touch her breasts, "I have my own ideas about military forces. I'm going to have a foundry that makes impenetrable armor."
"As great as that sounds, Harry, it's impossible," Marie spoke up as she struggled to get out of his tight grip, "All armor has weeks spots."
Marie lifted his sword and while still pressed to his chest, she lightly hit him on the ass with her sword. "Here..." She trailed off, smiling as she grabbed his hand and spun herself out of his hold, "Here," She pointed to his armpit before pointing to the bottom of his chin.
She pressed her finger there and smiled. For once, she didn't think about Nora and the stories she told about how bad the Tudors were. Not even how Arthur, Nora's eldest son, had been stabbed in the same place that Marie was pointing at by Harry's own father.
All she could think about was Harry and how much she liked him. Not about what she had been planning to do to get vengeance since she was nine-years-old.
Harry's lips parted as he grabbed a fist full of Marie's skirt and yanked her closer to him, their lips just mere centimeters from touching.
"I want to kiss you," Harry insisted, sounding almost desperate to release the tension he felt as though had been building up for years, "Let me kiss you."
"Don't ask," Marie argued sternly and Henry sighed in defeat, thinking she was refusing him, "Just do it."
Harry's lips curled upwards as he lifted his hand. He lightly grabbed the side of her neck, pulling her face closer to his as he went to finally kiss her. Years had passed. Years they had displayed their affections toward each other, yet years had passed and they still hadn't kissed.
Harry's lips brushed against Marie's but just as they were about to kiss, a loud thud was heard, along with a large squawking sound. "What is this display?" A voice suddenly spoke up, causing the duo to turn their head to see Lady Margaret, Harry's grandmother, standing before them alongside Kathy, who looked guilty since she hadn't been able to stop her grandmother from cockblocking the duo as Marie always did for her when she was with Charlie.
"You dare swordplay with the Tudor heir?" Margaret asked Marie in a scolding tone, causing Harry to smile mischievously.
"Well, it was only in fun. I'm the one that asked her to," Harry tried to defend Marie, who only smiled since by the look on Margaret's face, the elder woman could only think about flashbacks of Nora doing the same with Jasper Tudor years ago.
"You are not to blame," Margaret assured Harry, who watched in concern as Marie looked down at the ground in what looked to be shame.
What happened to the prideful and arrogant girl he had been spending time with just a moment about?
He definitely preferred her to the timid and quiet girl she was when the rest of his family was around, all but Kathy, of course.
"It's natural for a young man to caper," Margaret assured Harry, slowly beginning to walk toward Marie to scold her, "You are a woman, though, and this family's ward. Put that sword down and come with me."
"And would someone take this thing to the menagerie, where it belongs?" Margaret complained to Lena and Ovideo as she gestured down to the squawking parrot.
Marie turned to Harry, handing him back the sword.
"I'll see you later," Harry mouthed to her and Marie smiled in amusement when she saw him eye her up and down as she walked away.
"Come along," Margaret insisted, clearly noticing what Harry had done.
As Marie was escorted away by Margaret, Kathy stayed with Harry, both of them turning their attention to Lena and Oviedo.
"Ah, England versus Spain," Harry spoke up, tossing Oviedo the extra sword as he turned to face the Spanish man, "Mano a mano."
Harry smiled as he playfully, pushed his sword forward numerous times, trying to convince Oviedo to fight against him.
"I will not raise arms at you, my lord," Oviedo argued politely, causing Harry to look annoyed.
"Well...I command it," Harry insisted, not knowing what else to say to convince someone to spar with him, "You're in my country now."
Harry lunged his sword forward and Lena loudly gasped as she watched the Tudor prince slice Oviedo's hand with his sword.
Kathy rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as she watched the scene occur. "This fool."
Harry, on the other hand, laughed, not seeing it as a big deal.
Oviedo slowly lifted his head, shaking his head in disapproval as blood from his cut hand dripped to the ground. "No, Your Grace."
Oviedo practically glared at Harry, who smiled as he watched the man bow before walking away with Lena.
"What?" Harry complained, only to sigh as he turned to face Kathy, smiling. He held his sword outward, challenging her, "Sister, shall we?"
"Only if you want to lose. Just because you're going to be king one day, brother, doesn't mean I'll go easy on you," Kathy replied, smirking as she picked up the sword off the ground.
"Oh, we'll see about that," He replied and as Kathy whipped herself around, her brother swung his sword at her.
____
The following day, Marie was sitting outside alone in the gardens, reading a book. She was so caught up in her book, she hadn't seen Harry walk up to her. He had just returned from hunting, which was obvious by the crossbow he held.
"I was looking for you last night," Harry confessed, causing Marie to look up from her book, "I couldn't find you."
"Maybe I didn't want to be found," Marie replied and it was the truth.
Not because she didn't want to see Harry, but she didn't want to get in any more trouble than she was already in.
"I hope my Lady Grandmother didn't speak too harshly to you," Harry complained, giving Marie a concerned look since he felt as though that was the reason for what she had just said, "She's not used to, well, girls like you. In fact, there are not many girls like you."
"It's alright," Marie assured Harry before he could begin to flirt as he always did, "I should have known better. I overstepped boundaries that had been set in place by your parents for a reason."
"There shouldn't be boundaries, Marie," Harry argued with Marie in an aggravated tone, "You may be a ward, but you are of royal blood. You should be treated as such. You shouldn't be treated as some prisoner."
"I feel wrong for being as I am," Marie confessed in a whisper as she stared up at Henry with a sad look on her face, "For being raised as I was."
"I feel the same. I was sheltered most of my life. You know that. If I hadn't been sheltered, perhaps I'd be more equipped for being the future king if something were to happen to Arthur is it did," Harry confessed, feeling disappointed.
"I am comfortable in my situation, though, unlike you. Though I fear I have ruined that by showing you that part of me that I had learned to keep contained long ago," Marie confessed, an ashamed look on her face as she looked down at the ground, "Your grandmother isn't as fond as me as she once was. She thought me timid and obedient. But the moment she saw me with a sword in hand, she does not think me that any longer."
Harry placed the crossbow down on the stone bench Marie had been formerly sitting on. He placed the crossbow on the ground and grabbed her hand, holding it. "I shall teach you how to play my grandmother, but if I do so, you must teach me..."
"Hmm. Swordfighting?" Marie playfully asked as they began to walk together, holding hands.
"No. I am much better at that than you, and I always will be," Harry boasted and Marie playfully rolled her eyes.
"I'll let you think that," Marie smiled at Harry, "For now."
Harry chuckled, nodding his head at her words. "You will teach me...." he trailed off as he stopped walking. He sighed in defeat and turned to look at her, "Actually, I don't want you to teach me anything. I want something else instead."
"If it's a kiss or my hand, the answer is no," Marie complained, despite the fact that if he had asked for a kiss, she would have kissed him right away.
"I was going to ask for more stories about Nora of Lancaster," Harry replied, smiling down at the girl.
"Oh," Marie answered quietly, an awkward look on her face.
"But if you'd like a kiss, I'm more than happy to—" Harry began to lean forward, only to have Marie use her hand to push him away as she laughed at him.
_____
That night, Margaret had walked into a room, finding Kathy sitting on her father's chair with her legs propped up.
She sighed, walking over to her eldest granddaughter, who seemed to be in a depressive state, despite not crying. "I knew Arthur's death would affect you the most, my darling girl," Margaret sighed in defeat, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.
Kathy remained silent, refusing to show the woman how sad she truly was over Arthur's death. Instead, she had been doing what she had been doing her entire life, channeling her sadness into anger or by hiding it with jokes and taunting, "The soul of a poet like yourself is easily bruised, but it will heal with time. I know it. Harry is to be the Prince of Wales and one day King. He cares for you more than anyone. You will remain a Royal Duchess when he is king and because you are favored, you will surely be the most powerful woman in England. You will accomplish what I had in that aspect."
"But you weren't always the most powerful woman, were you?" Kathy suddenly asked Margaret, whose face fell, "Not even when I was born. You only became that after the death of Nora of Lancaster. My other grandmother. After Mother executed her own mother."
Margaret tensed up. She tried to hide her uneasiness, wondering how Kathy knew about Nora and about how powerful she was.
In truth, Harry did what he should not. He was telling Kathy all the stories of Nora that he was learning from Marie. However, he never told his sister where he was learning it from. Harry had kept that part a secret, thankfully. Kathy only found herself feeling angry at her mother when she learned how the woman had betrayed her own mother.
Harry, on the other hand, only paid attention to the most eventful parts of the stories and was absolutely fascinated by it and yearned to always hear more stories.
"We do not speak of such things," Margaret ordered in a low, stern tone, "It's forbidden. You know that. Talk about something else, Kathy, but never that. Your mother will not be happy."
"When is Mother ever happy with me?" Kathy asked as she drank the last of her wine, "She hates me. She always has."
"She does not hate you," Margaret argued, shaking her head at her granddaughter.
"She surely doesn't like me. She likes none of her children. None but Arthur," Kathy explained, a jealous look on her face, "And now that Arthur is gone, she pays attention to the rest of us even less."
"She is deep in grief, my child. Do not blame her. Besides, you have another brother on the way. Does that not soothe you a little? You will have another child to boss around. You are the eldest now, after all. You shall be responsible for your little siblings," Margaret explained, a soft smile on her face.
Kathy didn't smile, though. Her expression remained emotionless, which almost frightened Margaret. "I don't really like children," She confessed and Margaret frowned in utter concern, "Except maybe Mary. She's not that bad. When she's not whining for no reason, of course. When she is, I like it when she's far away from me as possible."
"You'll have to have children of your own one day, Kathy," Margaret reminded Kathy, who lowly laughed.
"Why would I want to be split open down there for a child that will hate me and will never be thankful for giving them life?" Kathy retorted, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
"What has gotten you so morbid, Kathy? You sound mad!" Margaret exclaimed, only to sigh in defeat when she came to a realization, "You speak of yourself."
"I heard Mother talking about me to Father. She called me ungrateful. She said there is no way I am her daughter because there is so much damn hate in me for no reason," Kathy explained, beginning to tear up, "No reason? She has rarely ever paid attention to me in my life other than to scold me and yell at me for doing something wrong. What kind of mother is that? She only ever cared about Arthur. Her precious Arthur. To hell with the rest of us, right? She can go die for all I care. We'd be so much better without her."
"Do not say that, child," Margaret pleaded, knowing that if something happened to Lizbeth, Kathy would regret what she said for the rest of her life.
"I wish she were dead," Kathy replied without a care in the world and with that, she stood up and left the room, causing Margaret to sigh in utter defeat.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
The fact that Harry's desperate to know about Nora. 😂 at first, clearly he just did it to piss off parents Bc it's forbidden to talk about Nora but now he's actually interested. 😂
I honestly love Marie and Harry tho❤️
Kathy tho😭 she might sound crazy but she's just angry. She has serious problems bc she's basically been neglected by her mother her whole life. Hell, Margaret was more of a mother to her than Lizbeth ever was. 😭 Lizbeth's super fucked up for that.
Nora may have had favorites but she NEVER did what Lizbeth did and never would have. She loved all of her children and spent time with each of them and she had SEVEN children and raised Marie, Teddy, Lizzie, AND Maggie like they were own after their parents died. Lizbeth has 5 and even when she only had Harry, Arthur, and Kathy, she still only paid attention to Arthur and sometimes Harry but never Kathy.
So she may seem like a bitch but I kinda feel bad for her 😭