~Smoke and Mirrors~

January 1460, Château de Moulins, France....

Seventeen summers the man she was to marry had seen she discovered within the two months it took to arrange a meeting. It was two more summers than she had, two more years of knowledge, two more years in the world.

Despite her initial reluctance, she'd sought to learn all she could about her betrothed, mostly from James who proved the perfect spy!

More than once he'd slunk up the winding servant's stairs into the Duke's study and memorised letters to John from the Earl of Warwick, returning to his sister ever ready to repeat his findings. Or rather, yell them.

He hadn't been pleased, returning to her rooms angry when he found Warwick and his sister's intended husband were in fact exiles, forced to flee their own country by the Lancastrian King and Queen.

"They are all but sending you onto a battlefield defenceless!" He'd cried indignantly one day, pacing across her chamber "You are the daughter of a Duke! You should be marrying a man worthy of our Bourbon blood! No barbaric Englishman can ever hold such worth but certainly not this one! He is no more than an exiled man of war, Connie!"

She'd never been a part of war. She never expected she would be. Now it was her destiny it seemed, a destiny that was intertwined with a boy  named Edward. Edward of York.

It was a name she pondered on often, each syllable, each letter, testing it on her tongue as she did with his title: Earl of March. It was one of the few things she could say in English, having only studied Latin as a child, but the words meant little to her, even less when she tried to link them to her own name.

If she couldn't even do that, connect his name to hers, how could she be expected to be a good wife to him? Would he be a good husband to her? What would he be like, this Edward of York, this figure shrouded in mist, reaching forth a hand she'd been instructed to take?

Would he be a good man? A kind man? Her parent's alliance had been happy but she knew not all were so - her Father had told her so. Some wives despised their husbands, some husbands beat their wives. Such horrid thoughts made her shiver beneath the covers at night. Would Edward beat her? Would Edward be cruel?

She could only pray he was not.

The most she hoped for was not love, but respect, something she believed any working alliance could be based upon. If they could find a mutual respect, there was no reason why their marriage could not be civil. Perhaps they would even grow to be friends....

"Constance? Constance are you listening to me?"

Her eyes darted up at the sound of her Mother's voice to see the Duchess still beside her in the dressing table mirror, a look of irritation marring her divine features. She'd been with her youngest daughter the entire morning, ordering her ladies hither and thither while Constance was readied like a china doll.

She'd been pulled from her bed as the sun rose and submerged in a bath of rose scented water, her brown hair and pale skin rubbed with various oils from pretty glass vials. It was nothing new, the opulent life she'd led making such attention normal but nonetheless it was overshadowed by the knot of tension tied tight in her stomach.

It lay there, taught as a bowstring waiting to be fired, it's arrow her life and she couldn't see where it would land. She'd been reluctant to leave the petal covered waters, sighing as her Mother's ladies patted her dry with soft towels and, after a silk chemise, laced her tightly into the gown she now sat in.

It was a pleasing hue, made of orange and red silk, the summery shade only a little darker than that of the sweet mandarin oranges they grew in their vast orchards.

The skirt was full, the bodice intentionally tight, pushing up her breasts in a way no gown of hers had done before! She preferred to wear high-necked houpplandes instead of the fashionable Burgundian gowns her Mother and sisters wore.

Every so often she felt the urge to try and adjust it, to pull the silk a little higher but it would not budge and more than once her Mother slapped her hand away.

Now Agnes watched her expectantly and Constance nodded, holding up her hands so one of the Duchess' ladies could slide rings set with precious stones onto her slender fingers.
"Yes, Lady Mother. I am listening"

"Good" She replied, reaching for a small crystal vial sitting on the dressing table. Eying it approvingly she removed the delicate stopper, ensuring the pointed end was coated by the clear liquid inside "Up" She ordered, tapping her daughter's chin and Constance obeyed, finding her nose assailed by a sweet scent as her throat was dabbed with it.

From the corner of her gaze, she saw her sister eying her, seventeen year old Joanna who'd sat silently at the edge of her bed for the past hour watching the perpetrations enviously. Despite their Mother's absence, the lack of love shown to them only seemed to make her children crave her affections more and Constance knew Joanna more than wished to be sat where she was.

Not only that, she wished for her betrothed too.

When she heard whom Constance was to marry, she'd declared she should be the one to wed Edward of York and, despite the irritation it raised, her little sister couldn't help but silently agree.

Joanna was the same age as Edward and possessed a beauty far more striking than hers, set perfectly in umber eyes and a river of black hair currently drawn under a steeple hennin. She was far more confident than any of her sisters, bearing a quick mind crafted for politics and ambition Constance was sure would do well in England....but it was not to be.

"You mustn't put a foot wrong today" Their Mother murmured, placing the perfume vial down again "Everything must be perfect. Your looks, your manners, your words"

Waving a hand, one of her ladies stepped forward and set a small pot of hairpins holding pearls at the tips on the table. Selecting a few, she began to slide them into the intricate braid wrapped around the back of Constance's head, keeping the rest, which was left loose, falling down her back in gentle waves.

"But what do I say to him, Lady Mother?" She asked "I hardly speak one word of English!" The Duchess smiled to herself, trailing her meticulous gaze over the pearls as they were placed.

"It is not your conversation he is marrying you for, child" She replied, adjusting one of the pins "it is our position and wealth; the men we can bring to his cause. Be polite, reserved, men do not like to feel overpowered by a woman's words"

Her hand's second wave brought another Lady forward but this time she placed a long string of pearls in the Duchess' palm and Constance's eyes widened as she recognised the pearls as her Mother's.

The Duchess' collection of jewels was one a Queen would envy, consisting of gold, silver and every precious jewel under the sun. She was ever adorned with them, rubies dripping in raindrops from her ears, diamonds glistening on her fingers, emeralds clasped around her pale neck, glowing like the eyes of a dragon against her skin.

Most were gifts from the late Duke, making her parting from the pearls all the more special.

Ensuring they weren't tangled, the delicate necklace was lifted over Constance's head and twisted before the string was brought over her head again, creating two loops, the first around her throat, the other trailing down her bodice until Agnes tucked it in. Constance almost shrank away, unused to her Mother's ministrations but forced herself to still; simply watching her own reflection.

"There!" Agnes exclaimed when she drew away "You look most pretty!" Constance couldn't help but blush at the compliment and looked to her lap, the words warming her heart with the love she'd always craved.

"Ah, ah, don't lower your eyes, child" Two fingers gently lifted her chin "your gown highlights the green in them, it does you credit. Only lower them when you curtsy and mind you curtsy deep for you will not only be paying respects to your betrothed but to your future King"

The colour instantly rushed from her cheeks and Constance found her reflection once more, transformed from the girl she'd known to the woman her brother had decided she would become. Instinct forced her to push her shoulders back, inadvertently pushing her chest out and the Duchess nodded.

"Yes" She murmured, playing with the ruby pendant around her neck "Just like that, Constance. Make your brother proud. Do your duty" She nodded obediently, keeping the heavy sigh bubbling in her chest firmly inside her head. Her brother, the man who'd taken her life and crafted it as if he were God.

She preferred to think it was God who'd crafted it instead, at least then she could perhaps grasp some other meaning for her destiny other than the ambitions of others.

A firm knock came at the door and the knot in her stomach relaxed somewhat as James strode through it, dressed in a doublet of deep green velvet, a Bourbon chain of office resting on his broadening shoulders.

"They are here, Lady Mother" He said, thumbs hooking into the leather belt at his waist and Agnes nodded, sharply clapping her hands.
"Come, ladies!" She ordered, prompting all but her children to filter from the room "You too Joanna! Come. James, be a dear and escort Constance to the great hall"

He gave an obedient bow as she passed, Joanna in tow and it was only once the door was shut that he straightened his back, giving a comical wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Well!" He strode up to the dressing table "don't you look a picture, Con!"

"A picture of terror" She replied, beginning to twist the rings on her fingers and James chuckled, folding his arms but she did not laugh with him, finding instead unexpected tears pool hotly in her eyes "I do not want this, Jamie....I'm so scared even praying is void of solace" His amused expression fell at that, turning to one of tenderness as he knelt by his sister's side and took her hands.

"It is your duty" He told her "but do not fret, I shall be there and if that English brute dares to put a toe out of line, I will have my answer" His eyes pointed to the bejewelled dagger on his belt and a small smile crept across Constance's lips "you see, dear sis, there's nothing to fear while I am here"

"And when you are not?" It was a question both dreaded the answer to but James simply shrugged.

"Who says I shall not stow away on the boat to England? I've always fancied an adventure!" That coaxed a giggle from her and, grinning, he helped her to her feet, gently tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow "Now head high! Or we'll get a clip around the ear from our darling brother"

Each step was a painful effort, each movement tugging at her heart, telling her to run but James kept her course steady, steering her down the marble stairs and towards the great hall. Every breath she took shuddered, the heavy scent of cooking meat from the kitchens making her mind reel.

The first thing she heard was a myriad of voices, her Mother's, brother's and unfamiliar ones, mingling together in a language she couldn't make head nor tail of.

"You will learn soon enough" James whispered reassuringly but Constance didn't hear him, the world around her falling silent and her gaze fixed ahead as they approached the open doors of the great hall. It was a magnificent chamber, the work of her ancestors as tall as forty men with carved rafter supporting a roof and a velvet dais at the far end a King would envy.

John occupied the great throne placed atop it and Agnes stood beside him, a serene smile on her face as she conversed with the three Englishmen stood before them.

Constance's breaths shook, using all of her strength to force her feet forward into the chamber and not retreat when her Mother spotted her.
"Ah!" The Duchess exclaimed and she almost flinched at the merry sound that made everyone turn "here she is, my Lords!"

"Keep your head high" James whispered and she forced her chin upwards, gathering what little courage she had. It was her duty. It was her destiny. Even so, the short walk that took merely a minute seemed to last an eternity, each step providing a century of time for unfamiliar faces to stare at her, scrutinising every inch of her face, her figure.

Instead of staring back, which would've forced a red flush to her cheeks, she chose to fix her gaze on her brother's throne, trying to imagine her Father there instead. It was for her brother she would marry but it was their late Father she wished to make proud. It was for him she would see her duty done, it was for him she didn't allow her knees to buckle beneath her.

The three strangers parted, allowing her to pass and she finally halted before the dais, dipping into the deepest curtsy she could muster.
"My Lord brother"

"Constance!" Was John's merry reply and she straightened her back, sending her Mother a nod of greeting "Welcome, little sister, come, meet our guests!"

'And my husband' She wished to add but only lowered her eyes obediently and turned to face her fate. Three strangers stood before her, two dark haired men, one clean shaven, the other sporting a cropped beard. They looked wealthy enough, both sporting doublets of blue and red damask respectively but it was not them Constance's eyes fell upon.

It was not them that forced the small gasp from her lips, eyes widening.

It was the boy between them, standing tall above them, a golden angel gracing her gaze - the handsomest man she'd ever seen.

Flaxen curls touched strong shoulders, brushing past a jawline she was sure God had sculpted himself, how else could such perfection be achieved? His lips were pink, appearing soft and a spatter of light freckles ran across his nose between light blue eyes, piercing, and filled with a certain arrogance that, in the light of her nerves, she found almost reassuring.

Her heart retained its erratic beat but the racing pound had changed, she felt the sudden switch, a single spark burning away her nerves and replacing them with something else. Something unfamiliar, unknown - a fizzing sensation spreading to her stomach she sensed went hand in hand with the blush now painting her cheeks.

Was this boy to be her husband?

"Lady Constance" A deep male voice made her gaze snap sideways and she realised one of the other men had moved to her side; was now smiling pleasantly as he bowed, revealing a set of pearly teeth "Allow me to introduce myself, Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick"

The French fell easily from his tongue, a stream of pleasing politeness that only extended when he took her hand; bestowed a kiss to her knuckles.

His dark eyes were warm, overshadowed by brown curls resting on his forehead "this is my brother, Sir Thomas Neville" She looked to the other man who grinned, nodding kindly. She returned the gesture and the Earl smiled "and this, is Edward of York, Earl of March"

To meet his gaze again, she had to look up and once more felt her pulse quicken, gathering her skirts and sweeping a deep curtsy to avoid any catching sight of her flushing cheeks. Good God he was handsome.

"My Lord, it is an honour to meet you" She said, keeping her eyes lowered just like her Mother instructed, respecting her future husband, her future King. Suddenly her hand, still clasped in the Earl's was moved and she fought the urge to gasp as another set of unfamiliar fingers curled around hers, rough from handling swords but still gentle.

A small tug brought her to her feet and once more she looked up to see Edward staring down at her; a small smile adorning his lips - a pleased smile, almost a relieved one. She felt his hand squeeze hers and mustered a smile of her own.

"The honour is all mine, my Lady"

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Dinner was one of usual extravagance, sporting a roasted boar at the centre of the high table and enough wine to supply an army but if she'd expected it to be a time to speak to her betrothed, even look at him, to see if the warmth in his eyes was constant, she was greatly mistaken.

Edward was kept completely out of sight, seated between John and the Nevilles on the dais while Constance was nestled between her Mother and little brother. Every so often she raised her head, trying to subtly catch another glimpse of the young Earl's face but her efforts were fruitless.

The efforts of her four older sisters sat at the table below were not so unrewarded. The girls eyed Edward openly as they ate, all seemingly entranced, his looks a siren's call to their eyes, and for once Constance would've happily traded the highly coveted seat by their Mother for one of theirs!

All she received were the echoes of his merry laughter that filled the hall from time to time, making her heart settle ever so slightly for reasons she couldn't explain. It was unfamiliar yet....natural in a sense, strangely natural, easing the knot in her stomach.

James, on the other hand was clearly less pleased with Edward, choosing to stab his food as if it were him instead of eating it!

"That will be little more than mush by the time you are finished!" She teased when he speared the roast ham on his plate for the fourth time.

"Our Grandfather was held for eighteen years in England after the battle of Agincourt yet John still thinks an alliance with England is suitable! Ha!" His laugh was bitter, hardly a laugh at all "he took my lessons himself yesterday, instructing me on the matter of family business. He wants me to be just like him"

"Cultured and educated?" Constance offered.
"Boring and cold!" He grumbled "Really he's sold you off to an exile as if you were no better than a sack of flour he were trading for a bushel of apples, you deserve better" Her indulgent smile faltered, the sweet wine in her mouth turning sour, and James grimaced at his own words, instantly placing a hand atop hers "Sorry, Connie"

She only swallowed, feeling the knot in her stomach tightening again.

"We would be most happy to show you, my Lord! Why doesn't Constance accompany you? She knows those paths better than any!" Her head darted up at the sound of her name to find the table looking expectantly at her, mainly her Mother who forced an airy laugh when she made no reply "Constance, Lord March has expressed an interest in the gardens, I thought you might show him?"

She practically jumped from her seat at the offer, the prospect of fresh air instead of the stifling hall a Godsend.

"Of course, Lady Mother, I would be honoured" Agnes nodded her approval but no sooner had Edward began to push his seat back then James stood beside his sister, an indignant look in his eyes.

"I shall accompany them" He volunteered firmly but the Earl of Warwick waved a dismissive hand, popping a piece of bread into his mouth.

"No need, lad!" He replied, his voice sweetly honeyed, which only served to stoke the boy's irritation "my brother shall go with them, you would like to see the gardens, wouldn't you Tom?"

It was quite clear Thomas had no interest in the gardens from the way he was devouring the meat pie on his plate; signalling for his fourth cup of wine but one stern look from his brother made him obey. Reluctantly, he lay down his knife and got to his feet, eying his leftovers with hungry eyes.

"Well!" He sighed, clapping his hands "if they are good enough to drag me away from my meal, these gardens must be grand indeed! Lead me to them, Lady Constance!" Despite her nerves, Constance couldn't help but return the merry grin he gave her.

༻᯽༺

While summers spoke to her soul, Constance had always adored the ethereal beauty God bestowed on winter.

With thread of shimmering snow he wove each intricate snowflake, settled each layer of frost on the ground, a blanket of sparkling ice melted by the sun each morn, froze over the garden's large lake, crafting nature's very own mirror. Breaths emerged into the crisp air; miniature clouds, twisting and twirling like dancers until they vanished like ghosts, never to be seen again.

Flowers withered and animals hid underground seeking warmth but still there was the promise of life in blooms determined to live, preserved for a while in casings of magical ice. In winter, time itself was frozen - change halted in its tracks.

Wrapped in heavy cloaks, Edward and Constance were warm but the air between them was awkwardly cold and not only because of the season. They walked by the frozen lake before the château but all that was to be heard was the crunch of the gravel beneath their feet.

Once or twice she'd pondered on speaking, wondering weather to remark on the temperature or ask about England, only to keep to silence. She'd been instructed to be reserved - if Edward wished for them to speak, he would begin it. And so they walked beneath the winter sun, the young Earl glancing behind every so often to where Thomas Neville ambled along.

"You needn't stay, Tom" He suddenly called and Constance's eyes widened, stopping in her tracks. It was quite wrong! Unmarried couples were not permitted to be alone together, it was improper, scandalous! Sir Thomas needed to chaperone for the sake of her own reputation - although she doubted anything could halt the wedding.

Had she been found drunk in the middle of a brothel it wouldn't matter!

Thomas certainly agreed and breathed an almost comical sigh of relief, carding a hand through his scratchy beard. The gardens had almost bored him to pieces!

"Thank the Lord and you Ned" He laughed, catching Constance's worried eyes "ah don't worry lass, I'll stay out of sight so your Lady Mother doesn't faint from shock! And I'm sure my cousin will be on his best behaviour" She blushed a deep red, the cheeky wink he gave her enough to halt any protest she might've given as he wandered away, leaving the remaining two alone.

She swallowed, throat dry, wondering what on earth to do, to say when suddenly Edward's offering arm was at her side and the Earl was smiling down at her.
"May I?" He asked gently and she peered around them, looking for prying eyes before nodding; allowing him to gently tuck her small hand into the crook of his elbow.

She let out a gentle breath as they began to walk and Edward looked at her again, a small smile playing on his lips.

"So, my Lady" He began, voice suave "I believe if there is any chance of us speaking before our union, it is now"

"Speaking, my Lord?" Constance replied, somewhat settled by the practiced ease with which he spoke her language "Do you wish to?" Edward's deep laugh was answer enough, summoning another deep flush to her cheeks, setting her heart racing.

"That is the reason I asked to see the gardens! I have no real interest in plants, as beautiful as these are, but I always find it hard to know a girl when her Mother is around"

"And have you known many girls, Lord March?" She ventured, emboldened by his candour. Whatever their society's strict rules stated, he was right, this was perhaps the only chance they could grasp to make them more than strangers - even just a little bit! Edward smiled, glancing into the sun.

"That certainly is not a question I think my betrothed would like to hear the answer to! And it depends on what you mean by 'known'"

"I believe I do, my Lord" She countered, unable to catch his meaning "if it is not impertinent, I would wish us to be honest with one another, always" His rhythmical steps stopped and for a moment she feared she'd gone too far but the young Earl merely smiled and guided her towards a willow tree by the edge of the lake, it's trailing branches brushing against the frozen water.

It was interesting they'd stopped there, Constance mused, it had been a special place of she and her Father. During one hot summer, they'd taken refuge beneath the leaves to read and he'd taught her to skip the small white stones that lived under the water's edge.

Even now they resided there, she noticed, gazing over into the glassy waters where glowing white pebbles lay at the bottom, each a misshapen moon. What would her Father think of Edward? Of her planned marriage?

She doubted he would approve.

"Honest?" She turned to see her betrothed leaning against the tree trunk, a certain ease about his frame that made her relax too. It seemed he had a talent for that, making people at ease around him paired with a tongue she wagered could promise the world with a few silver words "Well then, my Lady, let me unearth a simple truth. Is this union what you wish?"

His eyes caught hers, glistening with amusement as she stared; bemused to say the least. Few would want the answer to such a question but honesty was what she'd decreed and honesty was what she'd give.

"It is my brother's wish, my Mother's too...."
"I asked if it was yours" Edward interjected, still watching her and she tilted her head, trying to match his gaze. It was a strange question for a man to ask.

"I am a woman, my Lord, I do not have a right to wish" That was certainly honest and he hummed, looking out over the lake. Constance couldn't help but admire the way the light turned strands of his golden hair to glistening rays of sunlight streaming from his head. It was as if he were the sun itself.

"And you?" She ventured "Is this union what you would wish?" His eyebrows twitched with amusement.

"It is not what I expected, I'll admit" He replied, pushing himself from the sturdy trunk so she was forced to look up at him again "but upon seeing you, my lady, it is becoming more my wish by the moment" His lips curved into a smirk at the way her cheeks reddened and he dared to reach out, tucking a strand of hair away from her face; letting his fingers linger lightly on her jaw.

Constance feared her legs would give out beneath her, a feeling akin to fire flooding her body, something she'd never once felt before. It set her heart racing, breaths stuttering, giving her body a will of its own that sent her leaning into his, leather-clad touch, affirming it was there.

There was something new resting in his eyes, something dark and deep she couldn't make out, burning with unknown feelings she yearned to discover.

"Although there is one that seems to stand in my way of claiming you!" Edward laughed, letting his hand fall to his side again. Constance raised her eyebrows, she could only hope Joanna hadn't tried to claim him for herself! There hadn't been any time but her sister was clever, cleverer than most.

"And who might that be? I know my sister Joanna wished to wed you" Mirth twinkled in Edward's eyes at that but he shook his head.

"She most likely wished to wed my position and no, I believe it was your brother" Constance grinned to herself. After he was refused as her chaperone, she'd half expected to see him climbing the towers of their home with a telescope to keep an eye on her! "the young one that was staring at me as if I were the seven deadly sins combined!"

"Ah" She replied "that would be James, my Lord, my younger brother. He's my champion"
"And certainly not fond of me!"

A small giggle left her lips - mood heightening by the second. She'd never once imagined the meeting with her betrothed would go this well, that she would find herself smiling, laughing, talking almost as if he were a friend!

"I doubt he would be fond of any whom John chose for me to marry" She quipped and Edward leant back against the willow again, the nearby branches grasping at the miniver trimming his cloak's collar.

"They do not get along?" She shook her head ruefully.
"I'm afraid they are too unlike for that, my Lord....and us? Do you think we will get along?"

Edward considered her for a moment, a sudden tenderness replacing the intensity to his captivating eyes and held out a gloved hand. Despite herself, she took it, letting him pull her forward until her body rested gently against his, fingers intertwined.

"I would very much like us to, Lady Constance"

And it was then, she realised, she was perhaps not so afraid of her marriage after all.

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Hello my loves!

So, the second chapter is complete and we've seen Edward and Constance together for the first time! I've always wondered what would've happened if Edward married before he took the throne and so in this book that 'what if' is written out!

Here we see a younger Edward than in TWQ, just seventeen in this chapter and already embroiled in the politics of England alongside the rest of his House. I feel that all Edward went through at such a young age during the early years of the wars of the roses is often overlooked, as is how young he came to power, and in this book I really wanted to go over that time!

Anyway, what do you think of Connie and Edward so far? Where would you like to see their relationship go and what are your predictions for the future? I would LOVE to hear them!

Until next time, my loves!!

- TeaandCrumpets05 💛