~The Mirror and the Light~

12th of May 1489, Westminster Palace....

Seven months it had taken to obtain the papal dispensation from Rome. Two weeks was all it took to plan the ceremony then they had to wait two weeks more for the day to arrive. Finally, it had.

Butterflies fluttered in Constance's belly as she was bathed and dressed. She'd chosen a lilac samite gown with golden stitching on the bodice over a kirtle of cream silk. Her ladies giggled and fussed around her, all of them almost like girls again as they laced her dress and tied crimson garters around her stockings. Katherine was already making bawdy jokes, not dissimilar to the ones Will would make to Edward.

She didn't mind, nor did it irk her that she was reminded of her Ned. Of course he would be, should be, with her on such a day and she held the memories of their wedding in her heart's tender embrace as she prepared for her second.

She remembered every detail of her nuptials to Edward before she'd decided to drink herself near to oblivion. It was nice to have nerves shot with hope and excitement instead of coiling dread, to eagerly await the fall of night instead of fear it, she thought, glancing at the nearby window and out into the clear blue sky where Ned's sun shone brightly. She hoped for his approval of the small ceremony she and Richard had chosen in St Stephen's chapel.

She looked down at her left hand where her ring finger lay bare save the shining skin and round indent in her flesh owed to so many years donning the ring he gave her. She'd never be without it, it now sat on her right hand and perhaps would live beneath Richard's once the day was over but it still felt odd, to glance down and feel naked, to not have the family press of gold against her skin.

Lord, how Dickon was feeling at that moment as he was dressed by his men. Was he nervous too? Did he feel like a boy again about to partake in his first tourney? She couldn't wait to see him, she thought as she was sat at her dressing table and her hair brushed and arranged.

It wouldn't be worn down like a virgin bride's, instead her brown curls was wound into a long braid down her back, made intricate by twists and small plaits; shining with the golden thread and cloth of gold ribbons Beth wove throughout.

At first she'd thought of donning her regent's crown with it but no, this day she did not wed as the queen regent but as a simple woman, swearing her vows before god as all others did. She was lucky to do so.

Oh, how many times that word had offended and hurt her, incurred her wrath. but now she knew it to be true. She'd been lucky (for the most part) in Edward and now she'd been given a chance so few had - the chance to live and love again.

She was lucky in Richard whom she trusted above all others, in her eldest son, the King, who'd permitted her to wed, in her children who had accepted her choice of husband and congratulated her! She'd answered each of their questions with patience and love, grateful that they asked them and listened to her replies. While it took some longer than others to truly accept the idea, eventually they all had and would be in attendance that day!

Like Edward, Richard and Cecily had both warned their uncle never to harm their mother which he vowed solemnly never to do and Isabella, while declaring (though not spitefully nor bitterly) that she had no need of another father, said she was most glad her mother had chosen a good man and that she would love Richard just as much as she'd done before.

Marie said much the same in the letters she sent, though understood more of matters of the heart and said their love made her happy, that it pleased her to know they would not wander the earth without loving company. Aliénor was simply happy that her mother was happy and all was right with the world and Charles more than pleased that he would see more of his uncle!

As for the people and nobility, there had been a fair few raised eyebrows and shocked murmurs when their betrothal was announced but that had soon died down and any further mutterings quashed when the dispensation arrived. Now, she could hear the faint shouts and cheers of the people of London.

While they would not see the ceremony nor the feast, they'd nevertheless taken the day as a day of celebration, laying out tables filled with food on the streets, burning bonfires and raising mugs of ale to the couple's health.

The marriage seemed to have reinforced their love than killed it!

Yes, she was lucky indeed.

"No! Not yet!" Constance laughed when Katherine offered her a glass of wine "I want to remember every moment!" Her friend arched a fiery eyebrow.
"Not even for your nerves?"
Constance grinned.
"Oh, go on then!"

As she sipped happily her ladies adorned her with jewels, pearls sewn into her hair, a necklace of diamonds and amethyst's around her throat (along with the R pendant which lay beneath her bodice - not to hide it but have it close to her heart), golden rings upon her fingers. They dabbed perfume onto her wrists and neck, kissed her cheeks with loving smiles then finally stepped back, watching her in the reflection of the polished mirror.

She smiled back at them, twisting her hands in her lap.

"You look so very happy, Constance." Isabella chuckled "I don't think any woman's cheeks could be rosier with joy than yours!"

"You shine like a jewel." Margaret added. She'd had her reservations upon the match but after a long stunt of prayer had come to the conclusion that if the holy father approved then so did God and therefore there could be no wrong in it.

"Thank you my dear, dear, friends!" Constance replied, skin alight with excited gooseflesh "Would you leave me a moment so I may compose myself? We don't want me skipping to the alter like a girl, do we?" Laughs and amused shakes of the head answered her and, one by one, her ladies left the room, leaving her to her own company.

She did look beautiful, she thought as she gazed upon her reflection. What would Richard think? Of course he'd think her beautiful, her mind said, he adored her. But what harm could another dab of perfume do, she thought and picked up the round crystal bottle with its diamond stopper; shook back her sleeve to apply its contents.

"Hello, Connie."

The bottle smashed into a million shards as it hit the floor, tumbling from her hands as she gasped. The sweet liquid pooled on the painted tiles, slipping through the grooves dividing them as her breaths quickened and she dared not look up from her wrist.

She knew that voice.

She knew every note.

But she couldn't have heard it, that voice was no longer on earth, she hadn't heard it's deep, suave tone for over half a decade except in her son's voice and this was not him, no, but it couldn't possibly be its owner.

It must've been a trick, a gust of wind praying upon the presence of her memories that day. It couldn't be real and she couldn't let this moment linger!

Mustering every ounce of courage, she forced herself to look up only to have it stripped from her and the breath knocked from her lungs at what lay before her.

Her Edward.
Her Ned.

As real as she, flesh and bone, standing by her bed in the mirror's reflection.

He was not the Edward who'd died in her arms six years prior but the Edward who'd won Towton and Mortimer's cross and Hedgeley More and Hexam! The Edward before Elizabeth, before Arthur, before their stillborn babes, before Warwick broke their hearts. Before all of it. He was only about twenty two, she thought.

How, how, could it be so?

His golden hair shone, curling at the nape of his neck, his blue eyes twinkled with mischief, his body was hard and strong beneath the simple white shirt, breeches and boots he wore - England's warrior king.

He stood bearing the same boyish confidence she remembered with awe and amusement, one hand on the pommel of his dagger held by the leather belt slung lazily about his waist and resting on his hips. He grinned at her. Oh, of course he grinned at her! She couldn't grin back.

Teary eyes, wide and burning, stared back at him and she shook her head. This couldn't be real, he couldn't be real....but how she'd longed for a moment like this, a chance to see him again, to glimpse his lovely face, to hear his beautiful voice.

"Edward...." Hers was a pitiful thing, racked with grief and disbelieving pain "Edward you're-" She turned only to see the chamber empty, the space by the bed void of any creature, let alone her Ned! Her heart sank.

She'd been dreaming, she thought, the excitement of the day had obviously conjured the ghosts of her mind into reality for a moment when she invited them to attend. Of course he wasn't there, if he had been shew would've felt whole again, she was sure of it.

Swallowing thickly, the taste of tears running down her throat, she turned back to the mirror only to jump out of her skin at the sight of Edward, closer than before. His smile was gone, replaced by that look of loving, but guilty, concern he would give her when she was sad and it was his doing.

'Don't taunt me!' Her mind begged as a hand crept across her mouth to conceal the sob tearing itself from her body 'Don't torture me with such a treasure!'

"I'm here." His own hand came to lay across his heart and she shook her head again, forcing another sob back, fearing the ears of her ladies. She had longed for a moment like this and couldn't help but grasp at it even as the scar it ripped open bled out an ocean inside of her. She knew she'd rather drown than have this vision fade into nothing; smashed like the perfume bottle by the worried arms of her ladies.

It was her Edward, wasn't it? No matter if it were a trick of her mind, his ghost sent by God, a demon sent by the devil to taunt her - it was Edward!

"A-am I going mad?" She stammered and it was he who shook his head, another smile curving his lips.
"You could never be mad, sweetheart."
If this wasn't madness, what was?
"Then....t-this is real?"
Edward tilted his head.
"Does that truly matter?"

Her face crumpled but she felt herself smile as her pain was soothed by joy, her heart suddenly jumping with mirth banishing her sorrow.

"No!" She said and heard she was laughing "Because I never thought I'd see your face again and now here you are!" She felt the urge to turn, to spring from her seat and try to grasp the ghost only a breath away from her but remained forward, knowing he would not be there and fearing that when she turned back he wouldn't be in the mirror either.

At her smile, he was grinning again.
"On your wedding day no less!"
The smile fell and she felt a stab of shame in hers sinking heart. Was this why he'd come? Why God or her mind had brought him? To curse her? To demand a reason for her betrayal? She couldn't bear that.

"Have you come to chide me?"
Roaring laughter filled the air and she thought it a wonder her ladies didn't come rushing through. Edward threw back his golden head, shoulders shaking with mirth just as she remembered he did! What a beautiful sight it was!

"Christ no, Connie! I'm the last person who has the right to chide when it comes to marriage as we both know!" There was guilt laced within those easy words, she thought as his gaze returned to her, but it was a blessing all the same and no amount of guilt could take its sweetness. He didn't begrudge her! He didn't hate her! "You look beautiful," He said and her heart soared "as beautiful as you did on our wedding day."

"I was so very nervous!" She chuckled and he took a step forward so he stood right behind her left shoulder.

"So was I!" Yes, she well remembered the look in his eyes when he slid the wedding ring onto her finger, the single glint that had made her feel less alone in that great cathedral "But I think it shall be Dickon who is the nervous one for today he marries a queen of England!" Oh this could be no demon, this could only be her Ned, a blessing sent by God to soothe the last of her worries before she came before him! "Will our little Marie be there?"

"She will!" She nodded happily. All those lonely nights spent sat by the fire talking to an empty chair and now here he was to listen! "She is Queen of the Romans now and has two children, a little boy and girl!"
"The girl named for you no doubt and the boy for his father?" She laughed and nodded, clasping her hands together in delight. Perhaps one day he would somehow see them? Perhaps he could visit Marie as he did her?

"You will have your namesake, I don't doubt it!" She told him "Her brothers and sisters will be in attendance, Aliénor is Queen of France! Our boy will be there too, our King Edward."

"Our King Edward." He breathed and she was sure there were tears glistening in his eyes "I'm so very proud of you, Connie, so proud." Fresh ones pricked hers and she blinked furiously to keep them at bay.

"I know you are, my sweetest fool." She laughed quietly, beaming up at him and he grinned that boyish grin again.

"Now show me your hands!"
Her brow furrowed with confusion.
"My hands?"
"Mhm."

She wished he would reach out and take them, intertwine their fingers so that she might feel his touch again but he didn't and so she held her hands out, pristine palms up, and giggled when he peered over her shoulder like an owl.

"Ah, no angry crescents there then!" He proclaimed when satisfied and she gave an amused cry of realisation "You're happy." Her amusement dissipated at the tone of his voice, low and slightly sad as is his heart had sunk into his stomach "Unfortunately that means I don't have anything to kiss better." His eyes were cast to his boots. Oh, Ned.

Again she fought the urge to turn, to grasp him with all her might and press kisses to his cheek. All she had now to hold him with were words and the fresh tears that rolled down her own cheeks.

"I will always love you, Ned, you know that don't you? She asked "Always? Always and forever?" Edward looked up and a small smile curved his lips again as he wiped away the tears wetting his face with the back of his strong hand.

"Of course!" He said and was suddenly at her side, going down onto one knee, his head at her shoulder. She could feel his presence, it was strong, oh so strong, as if he truly were right next to her but she didn't dare look. He tilted his head; smile wider, understanding.

"But you were not made to spend the ages alone, nor do I want you to! You have too much goodness, too much love to share with the world! Besides," He shrugged and his eyes were so full of love it made her want to cry harder "our souls are as one, just as Anne and Dickon's are, when you reach paradise, and I swear to the lord I believe I'm only here because of you," He laughed, making her smile "we shall be together again."

Constance nodded, hands twisting in her lap, pressing into her skirt to stop herself from throwing her arms around him. Her lower lip trembled and a shaking sigh passed her lips.

"I miss you." A whispered confession.

"I know, sweetheart." An unspoken apology. Smiling at her, he got to his feet again, placing a hand back on his dagger "Hold your head high today, as you always did!" He told her. Their time was drawing to a close, she could feel it; could see he did too.

She nodded again.
"I will!"
"Do you promise?"
His figure was fainter, his presence weaker. 'No!' She wanted to cry, to scream, to yell 'Don't take him again!' She wanted to jump to her feet and cling to every fibre of him, to drag him into the realm of the living, to demand he stay and have him obey. But she couldn't, all she could do was swear she'd do as he asked.

"I will!"

There was a rushing in her ears, his shirt and hair glowed a soft silver like the full moon on a clear night, his eyes two shining sapphires.

"My sweet Connie, I love you." His voice was song, each note angelic, pulling him further towards the heavens and further away from her. He reached out and for a solitary moment she was sure she could feel the soft brush of familiar fingers across her cheek.

"I love you too, Ned!" She called and with one last look at his angelic face, screwed her eyes shut. She couldn't bare to watch him fade into nothing and so waited until the rushing stopped, quietening into silence.

She opened her eyes and she was alone.

It ought to have broken her heart but while there was pain, it was soothed and only seconds later, she found a smile curving her lips.

She'd seen Edward! She'd spoken to him! He'd spoken to her, given her his blessing. A gentle laugh tumbled from her mouth and she pulled her embroidered handkerchief from her lilac sleeve, dabbing away all trace of her tears and leaving her with only a full heart and a growing smile.

Nodding, her growing laughter shook her shoulders and she tossed back her head, beaming, clutching her handkerchief with joyful fingers.

Oh, how lucky she was! And how much luckier she was about to be!

Tucking the handkerchief back into her sleeve, she stood and brushed down her skirts, turning away from the mirror and towards the chamber door. Her first love had come to wish her well, to set her soul at peace and now it was time for her to be joined with the second in the eyes of God.

It was time to go to the chapel.

"To my Richard." She whispered and the words sparked an even greater flame within her heart. She couldn't wait to see him, to take his hand and speak her vows! Gathering her onyx rosary from the end of the bed, she wrapped it about her hand and took a breath, rolling the cool beads between her fingers.

She was ready.

Striding across the floor, she all but flung open the doors and faced her ladies with the greatest smile her face would allow, lighting her eyes with joy and her steps with excitement.

"Let us go!" She declared and the women hurried to taking up the heavy silk train that flowed behind her like a purple river.

"Did you put on more perfume?" Katherine asked and Constance laughed, grinning at her friend.
"Only a little!" She said and, clasping her hands before her, held her head high and headed towards the chapel.

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That evening....

"Oh, my love!" Constance laughed as she hopped the last step of the galliard and Richard caught her in his arms, kissing her sweetly on the mouth. The courtiers surrounding them erupted into applause and drunken whoops.

All present had certainly had their fill of food and drink and now indulged further, sending the festivities into a loud state of lively laughter and stumbling steps. Constance's own swayed to and fro a little bit she didn't care a jot, she wanted to dance all night until the sun rose and Richard finally carried her off to bed!

Smiling at him, she applauded the minstrels and waved at them to strike up another tune.
"Again?" Richard laughed, an arm around her waist, rather drunk himself as they spun slowly in a blissful circle "That's five in a row, sweetheart, can you not take pity upon me and allow a poor man to rest awhile?"

Giggling, Constance snatched a goblet of wine from the silver tray of a passing pageboy, smirking at her husband as she brought it to her mouth. Her husband! Lord, what a wonderful thing to think!

"Very well, very well! I find I'm rather peckish!" Taking his hand, she held up the glass to his lips, coaxing him to take a sip and turned to the courtiers around them "My husband and I shall rest awhile!" Oh, it was even nicer to say, she thought, and Richard plucked the goblet from her grasp, laughing.

He looked so handsome in his blue doublet with silver damask and wonderfully perfect curls her fingers couldn't wait to find purchase in.
"What are you staring at so intently?" He asked with an arched eyebrow as he lead them through the crowd and she giggled again, pressing herself against his side without a care for the eyes watching.

"My husband! My lovely, wonderful, handsome husband!" She said, punctuating each word with a kiss to his cheek. Laughing, he took her chin between his fingers and kissed her soundly on the lips again.

All around them the festivities were alive with merriment, acrobats tumbling from each others shoulders in striped doublets and breeches, tossing batons and glasses full to the brim with wine without spilling a drop! Some stood atop little platforms and like dragons blew great torrents of fire from their lips, casting all around them in an orange glow.

The tables lining the hall's walls were laden with silver plates and the remains of rich food; fresh sweetmeats of every kind between them before devoured dishes were taken away. Those who did not dance sat on the table's benches and reached eagerly for the wonderful creations set before them, laughing and joking with their companions, goblets in hand.

The minstrel's merry tunes floated through the air, invigorating every soul their lively notes touched and even as, the couple approached the dais, Constance felt her toes itching to dance again!

Most of the seats at the royal table were empty - Isabella and Cecily were dancing, young Richard at the other end of the hall with a group of friends, laughing as he signalled for more wine and Charlie and Aliénor had gone to bed! The only seat filled was young Queen Anne's.

The eleven year old, dressed in crimson cloth of gold and glittering diamonds sat upon her wooden throne, looking out across the hall with a serene smile, one foot tapping to the rhythm of the music beneath the table. Edward had lead her out to dance thrice that evening and her laughter could be heard amongst the guest's almost every second!

She'd had a merry time and appeared to want to stay up until dawn but while Constance had come to know Anne was a determined creature she could see the way her delicate shoulders sagged a little and her head dipped every so often under the weight of her crown. She would soon be abed, she thought with a smile and slipped into the seat beside her young daughter in law - the king's empty throne - while Richard took the chair next to it, still holding her hand.

Where her son had gone, she didn't know but he'd likely return soon.
"Enjoying the evening, my love?" She asked over the music and Anne turned to her, nodding happily.
"It is a most beautiful spectacle, lady mother!" She replied, her thick accent (which had only lessened a little since she came to England) warming Constance's heart with affection "It has been a day of great merriment!"

It had indeed, she thought, looking down at the new ring occupying the space Edward's had been, a beautiful piece: a gold band engraved with stars and set with a circular sapphire. She ran a finger over the gem and turned to her husband only to find him already gazing at her.

"Here, sweetheart!" He said and pushed a plate he'd filled with sweetmeats towards her, eliciting a laugh as she plucked a candied orange from the pile and popped it into her mouth, squeezing his hand in thanks.

Their wedding ceremony in St Stephen's Chapel had been a beautiful thing, made up of only them, the priest and those they loved most. There was no pageantry, no spectacle, only a quiet service at the heart of which was their love.

Constance believed herself to be the happiest woman in England to ever speak her vows and she remembered Richard smiling at her eagerness. That was after he'd wiped away the tears than ran down his face at the sight of her walking down the aisle towards him!

"How long has my son the King been away?" She asked, looking back to Anne. The girl smiled then shrugged, looking out across the hall.

"I do not know, Mother. Perhaps a half hour or so?" Her rosy lips settled into a small frown and delicate hands gripped the arms of her chair a little righters "Actually, he has been away too long." She said, turning to Constance "Do you think he is unwell?"

Her concern for her son was the sweetest thing and Constance patted her arm fondly. If Edward truly had been away for that long and she hadn't been fetched then she knew he was not unwell, it was his wish to slip away unnoticed and gain a moment or two of peace. He did it quite a lot - though less now than in his early days of kingship.

She never berated him nor judged him for it, it was an understandable thing to crave a little freedom free from the ever watching eyes of those waiting for you to fail. While he was the king and he was loved, that did not mean the nobles wouldn't salivate at the chance of partaking in the gossip one misstep would bring. She understood it better than most.

Taking a breath, she smiled at her daughter in law.
"I shall see where he has slipped away to, dear one." She told her and Anne nodded gratefully as Constance turned to Richard. He was still watching her, a small smile on his lips that made her blush.
"I would tell you to stop that but I quite like it." She teased "But I must go and seek out our king, my love, I shall return to your side shortly." And, leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He didn't question her as she stood, only asked if she promised and she said with a smile that nothing could keep her from his side.

When she was away from the hall, the merry din a mere distant echo, a sudden wave of sobriety washed over her. She blinked, leaning against the nearest wall, relishing the touch of cool stone against her skin, made hot by mirth and unbridled indulgence.

What a glorious day it had been, what glorious days were ahead, for her and Richard, for her children, for England. She could see nothing but hope in her future and felt her lips curving into a smile again as she pushed herself from the wall and walked merrily along the hallway.

Her steps were easy, knowing, she knew exactly where Edward would be for he almost always ended up at the same place! She climbed staircases and strode through lantern-lit corridors until she pushed open a heavy wooden door and the cool night air hit her, making her gasp.

She looked along the wall of the palace that sat against the river bank and, sure enough, she could just make out the figure of Edward at the end of it, standing talk with his arms crossed, staring out across the water where the streets were alive with bonfires sending billowing pillars of smoke into the air, curling around chimneys and rooftops and dancing shadows swayed along whitewashed walls; the river carrying the people's joy to his ears.

It was a good spot, she thought, heading towards him, perhaps not the best if he wished for a minute of silence but familiarity would likely soothe him instead; the cool night breeze that ruffled his flaxen hair.

He started when her figure caught his eye, one hand twitching towards his dagger until he saw it was her and relaxed, sending her a nod before he returned to his lively view.

When she arrived at his side, she noticed he wore the same expression he always donned when in deep thought: lips straight and pressed thinner than usual, eyes slightly narrowed. It looked rather menacing to any who didn't know him. What was he thinking of, was it his father, her, his uncle?

"My love, are you well?" She asked softly, brushing a gentle hand against the sleeve of his golden doublet "Anne was worried." His lips quirked upwards a little at that and he shook his head.

"The hall grew a little too hot, I wished for some air." There was the same answer he always gave to her, he hardly ever divulged his thoughts straight away, not out of distrust or dismissal though in all honesty she didn't know the reason why he did it. She wondered if it put him at ease and replied with the same soft nod that always followed, slipping her arm through his.

Silently, Edward turned his hand over and hers slipped easily into it, their fingers intertwining. He almost always did that too. "I wish for you to be happy," he murmured after a moment, his gaze dipping to his boots as they shuffled against the stone beneath "you know that don't you, ma mére?"

"Of course I do, sweet boy!" She replied, squeezing his hand. Edward nodded, looking across the river again.

"Listen to how they celebrate you. Even with such an unusual union they will not stray in their love for you." There was an undertone of amusement to his voice and when he glanced down at her, his eyes were smiling "I would not have it any other way."
"Nor will they stray in their love for you and Anne, they do adore you both!"

"From time to time it still amazes me that this is mine." He sighed, gazing at the river, at the houses lining the other side "My land. My England. And there are none left to challenge it. I sometimes wake fearing myself still at war. I dream of marching men and battle cries." Constance knew well the ghosts that haunted her boy. It was a rarer thing now but in the year after Sutton Bank she'd often found him crawling into bed beside her in the early hours of the morning, trembling with cheeks soaked by tears.

"You won, Ned." She whispered and he squeezed her hand.
"Yes. And now we are safe."
She rested her head against his shoulder and nodded, looking out over the glowing streets of London.

"Now we are safe. And by the grace of God forever shall be."

~THE END~

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