~Gilded Cages~

5th of May, Middleham Castle, North Yorkshire....

When his legs became tire of endless pacing, Richard sunk down into the window seat of his bedchamber, looking across the outer bailey and up at the battlements he'd stood at two weeks ago.

He'd been a free man then.

His nephew had been King.

His son had been safe.

That day seemed an eternity away and, at the same time, a single hair's breadth.

He wished he could grasp those precious moments again, wished he could've defeated the invading Woodville force - though the odds had hardly been in his favour - and helped to defend the North from their claws.

But time didn't work in such a way. It was a cruel mistress and there had been many hours where he'd hated it.

The attacking force, lead by Thomas Grey, had defeated his defending one in less than three hours and most of his men had been slaughtered - he was not. He'd been captured and confined to his chambers where he'd languished the past fourteen agonising days. And the agony was not simply in his mind, he was nursing a wound on his left side, caused by a particularly unlucky strike from an arrow.

His attendants had worked quickly and efficiently to remove the arrow and clean the wound (while he tried not to scream with frustration) but by morning they, and the rest of his servants had been sent away and were soon replaced by Woodville ones. Their spies.

Absentmindedly rubbing a hand across his side, he grimaced at the dull ache that struck through his flesh and sighed, leaning his head back against the wall behind.

Where were his son, his nephew, Francis? Were they safe? He hadn't heard any news of their capture but why would he, no one spoke more than two words to him when they brought his meals and God didn't answer any of his prayers. Where was Connie? And his nephews and nieces? What fate had befallen them?

He could only hope they'd successfully escaped to sanctuary while London fell.

His ears pricked up as the sound of keys rattled on the other side of his chamber door, then the turn of the lock. He let his head loll in that direction, only raising an unimpressed eyebrow when Anthony Woodville strode in, golden hair shining and eyes as blue as ever.

"You are not dressed" He observed as he closed the door, looking Richard (who was in his shirt and breeches) up and down.
"You clearly are" Richard replied, eyes wandering over the rich purple damask he wore with a golden gilded belt. He let his nose wrinkle in disgust for a moment "Besides, I do not believe I am going anywhere. That is, unless you have come to conduct me to the Tower?"

"I have not. I convinced my sister against it"

And Richard laughed for the first time in two weeks.

"Ha! Did you really? You, the puppeteer's second favourite creature? Did you manage to break free of your enchanted strings for a moment to reclaim sanity?" A dark frown creased Anthony's face.

"You may not speak of my Lady, the King's Mother, in such a way"
"But I did not speak of Queen Constance" Richard returned with a small smile "I spoke of your sister, Elizabeth, who has managed to commit more high treason within two weeks than my poor, dead brother, George, managed to in his twenty eight years of life and that is simply the most ridiculous title I've ever heard!"

"It is no treason, Arthur is the rightful King"
"Ah, Arthur. Her favourite puppet, he always has been since the day he first drew breath. Although, he is a man now, seventeen if I'm not mistaken and I do not care if I am. I hold his treason in the same regard as his Mother's. Your bastard could never be King"

He saw Anthony's jaw tighten and smirked to himself as the man forced himself into one of the two chairs by the fire.
"Join me, Richard" He gestures to the empty one.
"So now even my title has gone? And no, I won't"
"You're behaving like a child"
"You're behaving like a traitor. Probably because you are one. You disgrace my dead brother, your rightful King, your family, yourself, England!" He sighed, tilting his head "I thought you a good man, Anthony, an honourable one"

At last, Anthony broke their gaze, eyes darting down before Richard could see the flames of guilt in them.

"I am"
"And yet now you play puppet to a pretender? You have helped usurp the throne from the rightful King. Tell me, Lord Rivers, where is the honour in that?"
"My Lady the King's Mother...."
"You do not believe your sister's lies!" Richard cried, shaking his head "You are too intelligent for that, do not try to hide your treason beneath a mask of idiocy"

"Arthur is the rightful King" Anthony replied after a moment, through gritted teeth.
"If that is so then I must be one of God's saints. Perhaps I will be, we both know your family are not above slaughtering innocent men"

He raised his head again, standing from the chair.
"It does not have to be so!" He said "If you would only bend the knee to Arthur, call him your King...."
"Ha!" Richard barked another laugh, standing himself, rather pleased to see he was taller than the other man "I shall never do that"
"You will be given land, more titles if you wish" Anthony persisted "gold, jewels, anything you desire!"

Richard blinked, studying him for a moment.
"So that is why you are here" He murmured "To bargain with me, seek out my price" Of course he was. What better way to win the country to Arthur's banner than have a Royal Duke proclaim his worth?
"Tell me what it is and it shall be granted"
"I do not have one"
"Each one of us has a price"

"There is no price any man could pay for the forfeiture of my own honour. Yours is rather low, it seems. What has been said, so that Arthur is the rightful King? What webs have you and your sister weaved? I assume you have found a way to declare him legitimate and my nephews and nieces bastards?" He sighed again, sinking back into the window seat, his wound beginning to spew pain into his side, while Anthony watched his every move "I wager the people can smell your desperation from London. Is that how your sister keeps track of you?"

"Please, my Lord!" Anthony tried "Is it not better to live than to die?"
"Not when the cost of living is one's own soul" Richard replied. Anthony's eyes narrowed.
"Your nieces and nephews are bastards, yes! King Edward was married to Lady Eleanor butler, making his marriage to Lady Constance invalid as he already had taken a woman to wife in the eyes of the law and God! When Lady Eleanor passed in 1464, he married my Lady, the King's Mother and from their legal union, two Princes were sprung....."

"Princes?" Richard snorted, he'd never seen more of a mummers farce "A title far too high for bastards, which is what your boys are. I cannot say I am not surprised that you would stoop so low for power when you have always shown the upmost respect to the late King and his Queen. My heart aches for the betrayal you have dealt her and the pain she must be suffering; that the children must be suffering. You are a butcher of innocence, my Lord, that is the truth of it"

Anthony drew in a sharp breath, fingers flexing around the pommel of his dagger, biting the inside of his cheek. He sighed.

"You will not join us?"
"I will not. Am I to die for that? I admit I am not ready for death but shall be prepared if it's what's decreed. I would rather my own death than the death of my own honour"

Anthony's brow creased again, but this time in sadness, the corners of his lips drifting downwards.
"I would not have it so" He murmured "The new parliament of the true King will attaint you for your....treason" His eyes found the floor "and you will be kept here until his grace sees fit to move you, elsewhere"
"So I am under house arrest? Or rather, room arrest?"
He nodded.
"You are, my Lord"
"And you are damned in God's eyes"

Anthony took his leave soon after and Richard was once again alone.

༻᯽༺

Laarne Castle, Burgundy....

Staring out of her bedchamber window, Marie's fingers tapped on the stone of the sill beneath her. She'd dismissed her ladies as soon as her breakfast had been served and hadn't emerged from her chambers since, staring out of the window as morning bled into afternoon - jittery and agitated.

Her lips were picked clean of skin by her teeth, often bleeding but she cared not for the pain. She couldn't think of anything but her family - her Mother, her siblings, her Father....her dear dead Father. If she was the pearl of his world, he was the oyster that kept her safe and now that safety and the love that bound them together was shattered.

She'd never been given the chance to say goodbye. She'd never been able to bestow one last kiss to his warm cheek....and she feared it would be the same for her Mother, brothers and sisters.

She knew they were in sanctuary, that they were safe enough for a time, but what about her sweet brother, Neddy? She'd sworn to protect him always but heard no news other than he had disappeared and she could not bear the thought that he had been slaughtered by Woodville hands to make way for the bastard Arthur. The thought grew more likely with each day that passed in silence.

Arthur.

Where she'd once strongly disliked him she'd returned to her childhood position of pure hatred, despising every ounce of her half brother.

He was a bastard, he was a traitor, he was a despicable little man with all the brains of an onion and the smugness of a snake. He moved like a snake too, slithering along without a sound. She wagered that was how he and his Mother had taken London then the country. Her country. Her brother's country.

Not only had he dragged her poor Mother down, he'd tried to haul her to his level by staining her with the title of bastardy. It was a stain she would be sure to wash out till her name was cleaner than it had ever been. The entirety of the world knew she was a true daughter of a King and Queen, that their marriage had been legal and their offspring legitimate.

Only fools would believe otherwise and fools would die.

The mud he and his evil-blooded bitch of a Mother slung would not stick, indeed, Cecily told her that when her husband read the decree he had laughed before threatening to execute anyone who believed such a lie and the only whispers her ladies had heard amongst the courtiers were reportedly ones of shock and mockery at the Woodvilles and sorrow and sympathy for her family.

She had come to realise she would perhaps be in burgundy for quite some time as Maximilian was regent for his young son, she now knew she would fight to remain until the injustice dealt to her family was righted. But would her husband give her his support? She did not know. She hardly knew him.

In the few weeks they were married before her Father's death and upheaval of England, they spoke little. He was polite at their wedding, kind on their wedding night where she fully became the Princess of Austria (though the act of bedding seemed to pain him more than it did her and they had not done it again) and once or twice they had walked the grounds of the palace together.

He preferred his own company (she understood that of course, he was still in mourning for his wife) but when they spoke she gathered he was intelligent, possessing a great love for chess, and always respectful of her. He ensured her comfort, supplied her with ample dresses and jewels and fine horses as wedding gifts but, other than greeting her when they passed in the corridors and exchanging a few polite words, he was little more than a stranger to her.

There was a sadness about Maximilian, driven deep into his eyes and in his gait, she'd noticed his steps were heavy on their walks and every five minutes or so, he would sigh and look up into the heavens as if searching for something. Marie wagered it was his dear Mary and she respected him for that. At least it showed he was a man of affection, despite being a soldier, and no heartless brute.

He was a tall man, well built, with deep blue eyes not unlike her Uncle Dickon's and dark blonde hair he wore cropped short. He was handsome and his smile was nice, though she'd only seen it a few times and it was never full of joy. It was a sad thing.

He hadn't come to her on the death of her Father but she did not wish him to as she cried in Grace's arms. What comfort could he possibly provide her with?

"My Lady?"

The sound of a light voice startled her and she spun around, heart jumping and eyes wide before they settled on her husband's son, Mary's son, four year old Phillip. He was a pretty child, cheeks plump with baby fat and hair blonde - though lighter than his Father's. He'd been rather cautious of her before the wedding, shying away behind his nurse when he presented her with a white rose when she disembarked from her English ship but after the nuptials, the boy became stuck to her almost like glue.

He was a clever child, always managing to escape his nurses and slip into whichever room she was occupying to sit on her lap and often fall asleep there.

She did not know if he remembered his Mother but that seemed to matter not to Phillip, he knew he had been loved greatly by a woman married to his Father and wished to feel so loved once again.

He stuck his hands out as he walked towards her on tubby little legs and she could see he carried a napkin, glimpsing candied fruit when the silken sides fell open.

"I bring this" He said, standing in front of her and offering the little package "Lady Cis" That was Cecily "Say you no eat today" When she didn't move, Phillip's small, soft hand took hers and he put the napkin in her palm before pushing her hand up "Eat" He said and she nodded, too tired to refuse, lifting a candied orange segment to her mouth and eating. It tasted of nothing to her, it's sweetness lost in the bitterness of her thoughts.

Phillip bounced over to the hearth and sat on the blankets and cushions before it, watching her expectantly until she went and sat opposite him, placing the napkin between them. He chewed on a sugared grape.

"You be sad" He said, swallowing "Why?"
Marie almost choked on her orange, though tears did not rush to her eyes, they had lessened over the weeks and now they no longer came. She thought she had likely used them all up. Her fingers curled into the blankets below and she forced her heart to steady, her anger to retreat for the moment. She couldn't fall to pieces before this sweet, little boy, he wouldn't understand.

"You know that your Mother ascended to God?" She said quietly and Phillip gave a nod "Well....my Father has now gone to God and that is what has made me sad.

"They will be together" Phillip replied "Friends!"
"Maybe....I know my Mother loved her very much and so did I when I met her"
"You Mama friend?" Phillip exclaimed, holding onto his crossed legs as he rocked himself back and forth (he could never stay still for long) and she nodded.

"She was my cousin. My family. And so very kind, so very beautiful and clever and funny too"
"Auntie Maggie say so" He said "You Father kind?" She nodded again, glancing at the diamond ring on her finger with an E, C and M intertwined.

'I love you very much, Marie' He had said 'Never forget that' And she never would, nor would she ever cease to love him.
"He was" She said "He was kind and funny and gentle. When I was little he used to pick me up in his great arms and whirl me around until I was squealing with laughter. I felt I was flying. He would have nothing but the best for me and even ask me if I wished to marry your Father before he consented. I will miss him every day"

"I miss Mama" Phillip sighed "But you here now! You make me better! And Papa! So he not sad!"
"I wish it could be so, my dear. Perhaps one day it will"

"My Lady? Princess?"

Both she and Phillip looked up as Lady Margery burst into her chamber, rather red faced and panting heavily.

"Marie, it is your brother! Prince...." She caught herself, smiling widely "King Edward! He is here! He is here Marie!"
"My brother?" Marie cried, springing to her feet (Phillip following suit) "My brother is here? My true brother?"

"Our true King!" Margaret confirmed "Your Lady Aunt is with him now in the great hall! I don't think she will ever let him go!"
"Nor shall I!" Marie laughed, rushing past her friend, through her reception chamber and into the halls of the castle. Her heart pounding, she broke into a run, her smile growing wilder by the second and laughs tumbling from her lips.

Her brother was alive! Neddy was alive! Margery would not lie, he was truly here! Her little brother, her dear baby brother, now her King. He was here!

As fast as she could, disregarding all propriety, ignoring the stares she attracted from the courtiers with her Lady and stepson behind her. The guards opened the doors of the great hall and she burst inside, eyes searching wildly and falling on four figures at the far end, one a woman, her Aunt, with her arms wrapped around a tall, golden headed boy; weeping into his shoulder.

Her brother.

"Ned!" Edward's gaze shot to hers and he gave a cry of delight, his face crumpling in relived delight before he tore himself from their Aunt's embrace and began to run across the hall, as did she, the two meeting in the middle. With a sob, Marie flung her arms around her brother, pressing him tightly against her so he could never leave her side again. His perfect curls were tangled, his face and clothes streaked with dirt with a musty smell hanging about them but she cared not.

"Mon frère!" 'My brother!' She cried, the language of their Mother pouring lovingly from her lips "Mon doux, doux frère! Tu es venu à moi ! Vous êtes en sécurité!" 'My sweet, sweet brother! You have come to me! You are safe!'

"C'est l'oncle Richard qui m'a envoyé ici" 'Uncle Richard sent me here' He replied into her shoulder "Et où irais-je d'autre? J'ai ici ma sœur la plus chère et ma tante avec nos alliés le Saint Empire romain germanique. Mon Dieu, j'ai craint de ne plus jamais te revoir, Marie!" 'And where else would I go? Here I have my dearest sister and my Aunt with our allies the Holy Roman Empire. God I feared I would never see you again, Marie!'

"Je craignais la même chose! Un grand tort a déchiré notre maison, mais n'aie pas peur, Neddy, je vais réparer ce tort et te voir sur ton trône légitime" 'I feared the same! A great wrong has torn our house but have no fear, Neddy, I shall right this wrong and see you on your rightful throne'

"Je n'en doute pas! Bien que, je l'admets, tout ce à quoi je peux penser maintenant, c'est un bon sommeil!" 'I do not doubt it! Though, I admit, all I can think of now is a good sleep!'

Laughing she drew back, cradling his face. His skin was icy under her fingers and his body leaner than she remembered, not like their Father's strong build he'd inherited "Tu as maigri, mon amour" 'You have grown thin, my love' She said, the very echo of their Mother. Edward shrugged.

"Je n'ai rien fait d'autre que de courir pendant des semaines, ma sœur, et la plupart du temps à jeun, et pourtant je suis là. Ma maigreur est le signe de ma victoire" 'I have done naught but run for weeks, sis, and mostly on an empty stomach and yet I am here. My thinness is the sign of my victory'

"And now you are here we shall feed you up, my King!" Margaret laughed, holding another boy in her arms.

"Eddie!" Marie exclaimed, rushing over to her cousin who instantly wound his little arms around her neck as she lifted him from his Aunt's hold and into hers "My little dear, we shall be feeding you too!"
"I want marchpane!" The nine year old cried "Marchpane and sweetmeats! And lemon cakes!"
"And now you are here you shall have them, lad" A familiar voice said and she looked up to see her Uncle's oldest friend standing by the great hearth.

"Francis! I am so glad to see you safe! And so grateful! I am forever in your debt for the safe delivery of my brother and cousin to my side!"
"There is no debt" He said warmly, the friendly smile she'd come to know over the years gracing his chapped lips "It was my honour to do so"

"Twice now you have rescued my brother from peril and when I was young you rescued me along with him. Of course there is a debt, dear Francis. I only hope I will one day be able to repay your great loyalty and kindness to my family. It shall never be forgotten and I shall always think of you as a true rose of York"

"Qu'est-ce que c est?" 'What is this?' A booming voice demanded as the doors to the great hall swing open again and Marie turned to see her husband; curtsied. He donned a burgundy doublet that day and his face was as stern as ever, his plump lips set into their ever present slight frown and his deep eyes severe as he walked towards them.

"Celui-ci est mon frère, mon Seigneur" 'This is my brother, my Lord' Marie said, rushing forth to Edward and taking his hand "Le roi Édouard d'Angleterre, et voici mon jeune cousin, lord Édouard de Gloucester" 'King Edward of England, and this is my young cousin, Lord Edward of Gloucester'

Maximilian came to stand in front of them, clasping his hands behind his back and studying Edward before he gave a slight nod.

"Je suis heureux de vous voir vivant et sain et sauf, roi Édouard" 'I am glad to see you alive and safe, King Edward' he said, unable to speak English. When he and Marie had one of their rare conversations, they spoke in his native German. She inwardly breathed a sigh of relief at his words that bore such recognition, although she already knew of her husband's opposition to Woodville rule "Ma femme m'avait parlé de vous et j'ai entendu parler de votre situation. Vous êtes les bienvenus à ma cour aussi longtemps que vous en aurez besoin" 'My Lady wife had told me of you and I have heard of your plight. You are welcome at my court for as long as you need'

Edward straightened his back, pulling himself up to his full height and returned Maximilian's nod.
"Je vous remercie de votre hospitalité. Je suis heureux de savoir que l'alliance entre nos deux grandes nations tient bon en ces temps troublés comme ceux-ci" ''I thank you for your hospitality. It pleases me to know that the alliance between our two great nations holds strong in troubling times such as these'