English Channel
The wind wailed as huge waves crashed against the ship.
"We're going to die!" Isabel was screaming frantically. Charlotte shed her coat before coming to Isabel's side, placing her hand on her sister's forehead and frowning as she felt her warm to the touch. "Lottie! The baby's coming! We must return to port!"
"We will take shelter on the coast. Get linens and rags, Annie! Get your mother as well! Quickly!" Charlotte screamed at Anne, who took off, as she helped Isabel settle into a more comfortable position.
Some time passed by as Charlotte and Lady Anne worked to get the baby out of Isabel. However, it was stuck, and their hands were too big to turn it. The storm rocked the ship back and forth, causing big waves to come over the sides. She feared the ship would sink.
"Mother, what is happening? Why doesn't the baby come?" Anne asked, looking sick as she saw Isabel.
"It's stuck inside her. She needs a midwife to turn it. Go ask Father how long before we reach Calais!" Charlotte yelled over the waves, causing her youngest sister to run back to where her father was.
Isabel groaned as they tried to get the baby to come out. Charlotte moved the hair from Isabel's face as she heard an explosion.
It was a cannon. Calais had turned against them. Her father had been the Captain of Calais for more than ten years and now, when they most needed the help of the city, they turned them away. Charlotte wanted to cry at the thought.
"They are firing at us!" Anne said as she returned to the room.
Charlotte sat on the bed and pulled Isabel into her lap as the Lady Anne turned from Isabel to Anne, taking hold of her hands. "You will have to turn it. You have the smallest hands." Anne started to protest as Isabel cried out Anne's name, pleading for her to do it. "You have to put them inside her and try and turn the baby."
"No, Mother, please! I cannot!"
"The child is stuck. If you love your sister, you will do it!"
"Annie. Please, Lady Mother! I don't want to die! Annie!" Isabel cried as Anne lifted her skirt to try and turn the baby.
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Charlotte hummed as she stroked Isabel's hair soothingly, not caring that her dress was being soaked from the younger girl's tears. It was already ruined by the bloodstains, so it was no matter. She looked up as she heard someone clearing her throat and saw George at the door of their cabin.
"I will leave you," she kissed her sister's forehead and made to leave, but Isabel grasped he arm firmly, looking at her with wide, pleading eyes. She nodded and laid back down next to her.
"I'm sorry for your loss," George said awkwardly.
"Our loss," Isabel answered bitterly. "If we had stayed in England, my baby would have lived. If you had allowed Charlotte to take me North, my baby would have lived."
George ignored her words. "There will be others."
"That won't bring my baby back!" Her sister shrieked.
"George, you are distressing her, please," she tried to reason with him but he ignored her.
"Elizabeth is with child again," she sucked in a sharp breath at his words. "We must have a son before she does."
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Valogne, France
After the storm, Charlotte led her sisters into their temporary house, trying not to think of what could be happening in England.
Isabel lifted her gowns from the trunk. "Ruined. Everything's ruined!" She tossed her dresses onto the floor.
"No, it looks worse than it is. We can manage until we return home," Anne said, putting the gowns over the side of the trunk.
Charlotte scoffed, and turned around to face her youngest sister. "We will not be able to return home, Anne. Because of our father, we are all exiled now, as Margaret of Anjou. We may never see England again." I may never see Edward again. I may never see or hold my children again.
"We are not like her. We are nothing like her," Anne seethed. "Edward can just forgive us again, like last time."
"Edward could forgive us or not. We may never know." Charlotte said, tuning to look out the window again.
She needed to find out a way to send a letter to Edward. She would find a way home to England, for herself and her sisters. They would not suffer anymore because of her father's and George's selfish pride. "I promise you girls, that I will find us a way back to England."
Isabel and Anne listened to Charlotte. They both knew that she had complicated feelings regarding their father, but could she truly betray him?
The next day, they were called into their father's study.
"What's this about, Warwick? Where have you been?" George asked loudly, as he entered the study.
"Making arrangements," he said simply.
"What arrangements?" Lady Anne asked, a look of apprehension on her face.
"Are we going home, Father?" Anne asked, reaching out to touch his arm.
"Yes. But not just yet. Charlotte, you are to be married first," her father said, and Charlotte tensed, her heartbeat becoming erratic in her chest.
"I was not consulted," Lady Anne complained primly, but Warwick silenced her.
"There wasn't enough time," he retorted.
"To whom?" George asked, an edge in his voice.
"Charlotte will marry Prince Edward of Westminster, to seal our alliance with Lancaster," he said, making his youngest daughter gasp in fright. Charlotte took hold of Anne's hand and gripped it comfortingly. She would not be cowed.
"Is there any chance you're with child?" Her father asked, his eyes looking up sharply at her.
"No. I bled on the ship," she blushed. It would have been easier if she were pregnant, at least that way she could not be married off until she had recovered from birthing the child. But, at the same time, her father could force her to drink pennyroyal tea or decide Anne would marry the Lancastrian heir.
"Margaret of Anjou is our enemy. Our greatest enemy. She hates us," Anne mumbled.
"If this goes according to plan, she will be your sister's mother-in-law."
Charlotte watched George and her father argue before George stormed out, rejected. She wondered if he felt his betrayal had been worth it.
"Mother, you must speak to him! What does this mean, Mother? How could he do this? Edward of Lancaster is a monster! Charlotte will die if she marries him!" Anne was frantic.
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"How can you...how can you accept to marry him, Lottie?" Anne whispered that night as they lay in bed together, the three sisters cuddled with one another.
"She doesn't have a choice," Isabel said, reaching out to squeeze her older sister's hand. "Father said it will be done and as his little dolls, we must obey. Just like I did when he told me I would marry George."
Charlotte sat up, gathering her thoughts. "We are women, Anne," she started. "What we want or what we need is of no importance. It will never come first, because our lives are not in our hands. Our fate will always be in the hands of others and we must accept that and make the best of our circumstances."
"You've never let anyone order you around," Anne scoffed.
"You're right, I never did. That's why I have three children and no ring on my finger. I tried to take my fate into my own hands and I failed spectacularly. What I must do now, what you must learn to do, is navigate the path that has been laid out for me."
"So, we're supposed to be quiet as Father ruins your life and all but sentences you to death?"
"Yes," Charlotte snapped. "That's exactly what we must do. I will marry the Lancastrian heir and I will bide my time until I can somehow rid myself of him."
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Château d'Amboise, Loire Valley, France
"I have always known I would see you on your knees again, Lord Warwick," Margaret of Anjou smirked as she looked down at her father.
"Your Grace, ever since I was a boy, I have felt driven by a need to do what is right by England."
"Seizing my husband's throne and capturing and imprisoning him, as though he were a criminal. Driving me and my son into hiding? All these things you judged to be right for our country?"
When called, she gripped Anne's hands again and walked slowly forward, making sure to mask her expression so the French woman would not see any fear or apprehension.
"You are Eleanor's daughter, aren't you?" Queen Margaret asked, beckoning Charlotte to walk closer.
"I am," she said, raising her gaze to meet the woman's eyes boldly.
Margaret turned her head side to side. "You look like her." Charlotte stared at the old Queen with hatred in her eyes, making Margaret of Anjou smile. "Interesting."
She walked back with Anne holding her hand tightly and watched as her father was humiliated by Margaret of Anjou.
"At least your daughter will be easily managed. Unlike the impostor Elizabeth. What a troublesome woman."
"She is not a woman. She is a witch," her father argued.
"Then why is she sitting on my throne?" Margaret snapped.
"Not for much longer," her father replied silkily. "But you must send your armies now to England. We mustn't give Edward time to prepare for an attack."
"Until this marriage takes place, I must and will do nothing," Margaret said sternly. "And since they are first cousins, I will wait for the papal dispensation."
"It could take months," her father pointed out as she let out a breath of relief. "We must sail immediately."
"You must. You must sail and restore my husband to his throne."
"Alone?" Her father asked uneasily.
"You have just sworn allegiance to me and this is your chance to prove it. Go to England. Raise your army. Put my husband on his throne again. Be the Kingmaker once more. And when you have done that, when you have secured London, I will follow to secure the rest of the country. And between us, we will crush Edward for good. You do believe I will keep my word, don't you, Lord Warwick?"
"Of course."
"Can I offer you a word of advice? To fight an infestation, you must scorch the nest. When you reach England, deal with that impostor queen, Elizabeth. If she has a son, she will be more damaging to my cause than all of Edward's armies."
Margaret of Anjou walked away with her sons following close behind.
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"So why the long face?" Edouard was startled by his mother when he entered his room.
"You want me to marry her," he spat. "When she has a younger sister who is not sullied."
She was so astounded she stared at him in disbelief. "And? It is only right that as Prince of Wales you marry the eldest girl."
"Charlotte Neville might be older, but she is not a girl anymore, Mother," he snapped as he removed his tunic and started unlacing his shirt.
"I thought you'd have liked her because she is not a girl," Margaret said. "She is a woman."
"She is the Duke of York's whore," he said pointedly.
"She also has Lancaster blood. When you have a child with her, he will have double the royal blood either of you have. He will be the undisputed heir to the Lancastrian throne."
"Think Mother-" Edouard said with impatience. "My queen can't be a whore."
"Then do your duty and get a child on her."
Edouard gave her a scornful smirk. "Of course I will! She is beautiful and I know I need a child from her womb. But once she whelps out two sons, she'll be set aside."
Margaret smiled at her favorite son. "I like the way you think. But let's keep it to ourselves, shall we?"
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So...I'm going to go and hide under a rock far, far away...yeah, that seems like a good idea.