Elizabeth sat in her rooms as her mother and brother heard her complain about Edward and Charlotte.
"I had heard the stories, but I believed he would be faithful to me," Elizabeth confessed, keeping her tears at bay. "I did not even ask him about her."
"And, tell me exactly, how does she affect you? She is here, you must have expected that, as she is Warwick's daughter. But you are the king's wife, not her."
"And what use is being a queen if I don't have the king's love?"
"Have you asked Edward about her?" Anthony asked, thinking about the dark-haired woman who'd broken his heart.
"What should I ask him, exactly?" Elizabeth snapped. "He's been cautious enough to at least be away from her when I can see them. But they don't even have to be close to one another. I saw how he felt about her the moment he brought me to court. He loves her. Deeply, unconditionally."
"You are the queen! She is nothing more than the daughter of an Earl —"
"Her mother was a Princess of England," Elizabeth muttered, cutting off her mother.
"She is the daughter of an Earl, who inherited two earldoms for herself. Her father is the richest man in England," Anthony argued, seeing Elizabeth's point.
"Her children are his. The rumors Anthony heard were true, I know it. She gave him a girl and barely more than a year later, a son. Edmund looks like I would have expected our son to look like, only with darker hair. She gave him a son, Mother, nearly at the cost of her own life if the rumors are true. She gave him a son who can challenge my own sons for the throne."
─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────
Edward was running through the palace, his arms reaching towards a shadow just out of reach. He reached to grasp it, but once again the figure slid through his fingers. Rounding a corner, he came to a halt at the sight in front of him. Sitting on ledge in front of him was Elizabeth, scantily dressed in nothing but a sheer white robe, her golden hair fluttering in the wind. She pursed her pouty lips at him and smiled coyly. Untying the robe, she let it slide down her arms, exposing her body.
Her skin looked flawless and smooth in the moonlight. Edward's eyes drank her in greedily, savoring the way her body looked. Her breasts were full, her stomach toned, and her legs slender. Lifting her hand up to her neck, she traced a path between the valley of her breasts, down her stomach, and towards her forbidden area, pausing just before she reached it. Edward licked his lips in anticipation, but she didn't continue down the path he thought she would. Instead, she beckoned him with a finger and spread her legs apart. Edward groaned and walked briskly toward her, that is until he heard a small whimper. Jerking his head to the side, he wondered who had just interrupted his playtime.
Edward couldn't believe it. His precious Charlotte was here, standing in front of him clad in a loose fitting nightgown which enhanced her beauty. Her beautiful hair was braided and lay on her shoulder and her big eyes shined up at him. Her arms were wrapped around herself and she seemed nervous in his presence. Edward went to take a step forward and she timidly stepped back. He repeated the movement and she repeated hers until she had been backed into the wall behind her. Charlotte unwound her hands from around herself, pressing her palms to the cool stone wall.
"Why do you run from me, mon coeur?" Edward spoke, walking towards Charlotte and putting both hands on either side of her head.
"Because I fear this is just a game to you," she responded sharply, looking behind him.
Edward peeked over his shoulder to see if Elizabeth was still present, but she had vanished. Alarmed at his closeness, Charlotte began to tremble.
"I assure you this is not a game," Edward said huskily, taking in the way his voice affected her body. "I only care for you."
Charlotte was shaking. "Then why does she wear my crown?" She questioned, gazing up at him and gently laying her hand on his cheek.
Edward nuzzled his face into her palm and kissed it gently. His hands cupped her cheeks and brought her face close to his, peering into her eyes. Charlotte removed her hands from the wall, placing them on his chest. Leaning in, he tentatively pressed his lips to hers. His mouth began moving and she followed his lead, grasping his shirt in her hands and pulling him closer to her.
She gasped as his tongue entered her mouth and did nothing to fight his advance. Edward moaned at the feeling of her submitting to his dominance. She tasted heavenly to him and he wanted more. Removing his hands from her face, he pressed her body to his, gripping her waist tightly in his hands. Suddenly, Charlotte pulled back from his kiss, breathing heavily and leaned her head back on the wall. Edward eyes were filled with lust, but they became gentle when he took in her appearance. With her tangled hair, bruised lips, and pink face, she looked like a goddess to him. He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. He had never been so content.
─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────
"Mon coeur," Charlotte's body tensed as a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist.
Not thinking, she allowed him to pull her body closer to his and her body responded to his touch as his lips trailed a line down her neck and his hands went to the strings of her bodice. But as his hands started unlacing her corset, she came back to herself and pushed him away, a frown on her face as she turned to look at hm.
He had betrayed her. In the worst possible way.
"You're weak, spineless, pitiful excuse for a king!" Charlotte hissed. "How could you do this?"
"I'm sorry," he fell to his knees, taking her hands in his. "I'm sorry. Truly. I thought you were dying and I was riding with your father and the guards and I came across her and she was beautiful and she was there and she was alive."
"Did you have to marry her?" Her voice shook and she hated herself for it. "Did you really have to marry a woman who is my opposite in every way?"
"That is why I fell for her," he whispered, pressing kisses to her knuckles. "I thought I had lost you, Charlotte. I thought you had died and I needed to grieve in the only way I knew how. I wanted to forget about you and marrying her was a mistake."
She pulled her hands away from his. "Did you have to bring her to court as your wife? Why didn't you announce our marriage instead? Edmund is five months old, you could have gotten a priest to annul that marriage and announce me as your wife and our children as legitimate."
"I had no choice. It was to protect you, I swear."
Charlotte scoffed, taking a few steps backwards. "You had every choice! Fool! No one would have moved against you. With me as your Queen, you get the whole of the North of England. The South always rises for York, but the North is Lancaster and deadly loyal to my father. Naming me your queen guaranteed peace in England. With that whore as queen, what do you get? A distant relative in Charles the Bold? When you still would have had to look to him for an alliance after spurning Bona of Savoy?"
"I will not shame your new marriage on the first night you spend together here at Westminster," she said sharply, taking another step backward when Edward stepped forward. "I'm sorry you thought I was dying. But I can't condone what you just did. You spit on our vows when you married her. I can't just forgive that, Edward."
Charlotte turned around, raising her hand to toy with the necklace around her neck. "Go spend the night with your wife. Try to give her a child so she can be content with that, since your heart so clearly doesn't belong to her."
─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────
Edward, however, had never been a man to think with his brain. He was a passionate man and he was led by his heart and his loins. That was why, within no time, she was receiving dresses and trinkets.
He sent her a locket with a miniature portrait inside of himself on one side, and on the other side was a portrait of their children. It had a note.
Lady Charlotte,
Though I have yet to speak to you again, your face is forever on my mind. I remember every delicate feature of your own appearance, it has become imbedded in my mind. Your soft laugh as you danced through the hall rings through the silence of my chambers as I write you this letter. As much as I love the Queen Elizabeth, her intentions are questionable as is her love for myself.
I cannot help but wonder if it I that she loves, the crown placed on the top of my head, or the notion of being queen. Sometimes the scheming and deceits at Court become too much for even a king. I do not know who I can trust. But you - my beautiful Charlotte – I know I can trust and confide in you. You are a white rose in full bloom, a red rose blooming even now. You are a beautiful fire that never burns.
I do hope you like the jewels and the new dress. I look forward to seeing you at the banquet tonight.
Save me a dance,
Edward
─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────
Alright, so I received some comments in the last chapter I want to address.
I don't like Elizabeth. There, I've said it.
I didn't like her when I saw the show for the first time and I don't like her now that I'm rewatching in order to write. In the break I took to finish writing Act 2, I read The White Queen, expecting for my opinion about her to change. It only got worse. However, as you saw here, Charlotte isn't exactly welcoming Edward back with open arms.
Charlotte won't always act so venomously towards Elizabeth, but it'll take some time. Charlotte isn't perfect. She is young, impulsive and arrogant. At this point, she is 19 years old, as she ages and the events of the show take place, she'll start acting more cautiously.