~Blood is Thicker Than Water~

Constance didn't allow her children to retire to their own rooms that night, she had them sleep in her bedchamber, in her great bed, a knife under her pillow and Edward next to their boys. She wasn't sure if any of them slept but neither did they speak, choosing to stare silently into the gloom of the night, perhaps looking for more devils seeking them.

When the first rays of morning light began to peek through the windows (they hadn't bothered to close the shutters), Neddy slipped from the bed and padded over quietly to the fire, wrapping one of his Father's great fur cloaks around his shoulders. Marie and Dickon soon followed and their parents sat up, resting against the headboard.

The children's nurses arrived at breakfast but both Edward and Constance did not want theirs, preferring the warmth of their bed to the coldness of the outside world.

"What is to be done?" She murmured, gently intertwining their hands. Edward gulped, casting his gaze to the covers. He disliked George, hated him some of the time, but he couldn't forget the boy he'd known, nor the man he sometimes was; that they were bound by blood.

"What can I do?" He asked "He will be brought to trial and...." He hesitated, exhaling a shaking breath "he will be sentenced to die"
"Die...." Constance repeated, though she'd expected as much, she'd wanted it to be so the previous night.

"He threatened our children, he threatened you, he pulled a knife on me, his King, he injured James, not to mention the crimes he committed with his sorcerer and the murder of Isabel's Lady in waiting. He has committed high treason....again. This time, I cannot turn a blind eye...."

"Your Mother...."
"Don't" He whispered "Do not make me think of her more than I am doing so at this moment"
"It will break her heart...."
"I know"

He sharply pulled away, sitting at the side of the bed, hunched over, head resting on his hands. It sounded as though she were defending George but all her words were in thought of Cecily, her beloved Mother. She had already suffered so much loss and another son taken by his brother? Could even one of her strength take such a thing?

༻᯽༺

Constance raised her eyebrows as she entered her brother's bedchamber. He was sitting shirtless by the fire, a bandage winding around his torso and binding his shoulder, a book in one hand, a glass of strong wine in the other.

"Are you sure you should be drinking, Jamie?" He looked up smiling as she sat opposite him "and should you not have your attendants with you?"

"They would only fuss as they have been doing all night" He returned, snapping the book shut and placing it on the table beside him "I prefer to rest alone unless, of course, it is you who wishes to keep me company. I would have come to see you were well but the servants said you were still abed with the King"

"You are the Duke of Somerset and the Queen's brother" She replied as he retrieved a spare goblet and poured her the same red liquid, handing it over "it is only expected for you to be fussed over if you receive injury or illness. I would have their heads if anything happened" He gave a dramatic sigh "But to answer your question, I am not well. Physically I am fine but my mind is troubled, most troubled, as is Edward's. We are both shaken...he would've been more than shaken if not for you"

James only shrugged.
"What will he do?"
"He intends for him to be put to death"
He raised his eyebrows but did not seem shocked.

"After all these years" He murmured "After every poisonous dose of treason is forgiven, now he chooses to act?" Constance frowned.

"He's his brother!" She snapped "He does not want to!"
"I suppose not, just because he dislikes him, hates him even, does not mean he wants him dead"
"Certainly not by his hand"
"There will be a trial?"

She nodded.
"There will be a trial but the verdict is already decided and how could it be otherwise? It is not just Edward's word that speaks George's guilt, it is his actions! He murdered Isabel's Lady and only last night tried to attack the King himself!" She stood up, beginning to pace back and forth before the hearth while James watched on "He has declared himself guilty!"

"Then why do you sound so unsure?"
She halted, staring at her brother, unable to answer his question.

"I do not worry for him" She replied "I worry for others, for those whom I love.....even though he sought to harm them. But how are you, Jamie? Are you in pain?" He chuckled, though winced as he did so, grimacing.
"'Tis only a scratch - admittedly a rather deep one. It will heal in time" Constance nodded.
"Good. I will send a physician to check upon you at supper"

Despite his groan, he raised his hand in agreement and leant back in his chair, closing his eyes as she left.

༻᯽༺

14th of February, Westminster....

The trial was held over a day, beginning in the morning and ending when the sun began to set. At around midday, they adjourned for a rest and Constance did not see her husband but she did see Richard and if Edward was half as wretched as he, they were sure to share enough misery to last three lifetimes.

"What has been said?" She asked as Richard strode over to the table in the King's reception chamber, pouring himself a goblet of wine and draining it in two large gulps. His eyes were dark, pooling with worry, his lips set in a deep frown and his shoulders hunched, not set back as he always forced them to be.

"I cannot do it" He groaned, letting the goblet clatter onto the table and placing his hands on the polished surface. He shook his head, soft, ebony curls falling over his forlorn face "I thought I could, I thought it would be simpler but....it's not and I can't do it, Connie, I can't sentence him to die....even after all he's done"

She bowed her head, placing a hand over her mouth as the unease in her stomach grew by the second, twisting knots in her gut. She jumped as Richard slammed his hand into the table, letting out a sound that was  painfully caught between a yell and a sob.

"I hate him" He hissed through gritted teeth "I loathe him but I cannot let him die!" He raised his head, eyes shining with tears that Constance felt filling her own as she raised hers "Somehow he is still my brother, he is still a York and we have lost enough Yorks"
"Oh, Dickon" Rushing to him, she placed an arm around his shoulders "I am sorry"

"Tis not your fault" He sniffed, blinking furiously "It is his own fault as we all know! Why do I defend him? Why do I seek to protect him from his own treason when he would seek to harm you....or the children? He tried to harm Edward! And succeeded in harming James!"

"Because you are good!" She told him fiercely "You are a good man with a conscience and a heart!"
"Edward is more determined than I....he seems to be fixated that this is the only choice left, that any other rout will make him appear weak....I would be inclined to agree if the accused was not our brother"

"He has had many chances" She agreed "and eventually the generosity of relatives for the sake of blood runs out....Ned's has and yet I am finding myself agreeing with you, I feel worried at the prospect of his death, his execution" Richard took a breath and finally drew himself up straight again, letting Constance's arm fall from his shoulders.

"Mother is on her way" Dread filled her heart, making her grimace "She knows his faults better than any and she is a woman of great intelligence but....but she...." He shook his head.
"She will defend him to her last breath" She finished "How could she not? He is her son"

༻᯽༺

As she'd expected, the sentence George received was death - read out in dispassionate tones by her brother who seemed to doubt the decision despite having a knife thrust in his shoulder. George himself had said nothing, having not been allowed his own defence, he simply stared at the King as if his unwavering gaze would save him.

Perhaps he hoped to stir sympathy in his brother; mercy. A year or two ago, that may have worked, Constance thought as she paced back and forth across the King's chambers, smoothing a hand over her belly to try and ease the pain that had settled there. Edward sat by the fire having not said a word since he entered apart from one word "Guilty" before he slumped into his armchair and fixed his sights on drowning out his worries with wine.

Constance wondered weather he realised it was precisely what George would've done, what he was probably doing in his Tower cell. Perhaps that was why he did it?

She didn't join him, knowing if she even took one sip she would retch until her stomach was empty. She didn't think it would feel so horrible, to know George would die but, she supposed, as she'd said to Richard - it was not herself she worried for, it was those she loved and she worried greatly for Edward.

She jumped as the chamber doors banged open and her heart skipped a beat as Cecily Neville swept in - she could tell Edward's did too. She didn't bother to curtsy, instead rushing over, her eyes stormy with rage and warped with disbelieving anguish.
"Tell me you did not" She demanded "Tell me you did not do it!"

She'd never sounded more like a Mother and Edward had never cowered more like a child than he did in that moment before straightening himself up, swallowing.

"I had to" He returned "I had no choice"
"No choice?" Cecily screeched "You foolish boy, you are King!"
"He committed high treason! You know the ramifications better than any!" Edward yelled.
"I also know loss better than any and I do not care what George has done in this moment, I will not let you take my son from me!"

"Mother, please...." Constance tried, already knowing how awful the next minutes were to be, trying to calm the storm but Cecily's eyes snapped angrily to hers for the first time ever as she stepped towards holding out a hand.

"It is not your place" She said sharply "I will speak as I choose" Turning back to her son, her steely gaze never wavered and she shook her head "You will not do this. You will not execute him. He is your brother"
"He is a traitor" Edward bit out "He is a traitor and he will die!"

Crack

Constance gasped, a hand flying to her mouth as Cecily Neville's hand smacked hard across the King's face, his cheek instantly tuning an angry red though his head didn't move. Cecily didn't apologise, she did not lower her eyes, she stared, looking as if she would do the exact same again thrice over.

"How dare you" She hissed "How dare you speak to me of death. I am your Mother and you will listen to me. You will pardon George and you will do it now"
"I will not" Edward replied coldly, leaning forward to meet her, squaring his broad shoulders, all trace of the anguish Constance had seen but a few minutes before gone "The best I can do is let him choose the means of his death. That is all I can do for my dear brother"

Cecily fell silent for a moment and a sudden mournful desperation filled her eyes, her balled fists slackened. She hasn't expected him to be so firm, so determined to see George's sentence through, so uncaring for her feelings, for her loss. He truly intended to take her boy from her....

"Edward...." Her voice was void of anger, almost shaking as she shook her head "Please...."
"It will happen, Mother"
"Edward....Ned! My sweet sweet Neddy, please you cannot...." She reached out to cup his face but he pulled away with a frown, staring at her impassively "Think of your Father! Think of Edmund! They would not want this! Think of me, please, Edward! You cannot do this! It....it will tear me apart!"

Again, her son only stared, looking as if his heart were made of stone.
"I am sorry for your loss, Mother, but it must be done"

Cecily shook her head again, over and over, tears beginning to trickle down her pale face.

"Please" She whispered and Constance's eyes widened as the Duchess sunk to her knees, peering up at her son desperately, clasping her hands together; pleading "Please, my son, my King! I beg for you to spare the life of my son, your brother! He has done wrong, I know that but please do not take him from me, do not let one of my children execute another of my babes! I cannot bear it...."

Edward watched her for a moment, giving her a brief moment of hope before rising to his feet and crushing her soul with a shake of his head.

"My word is final. George will die"

"No!" Cecily screamed, reaching for his legs as he walked away, not wanting (or unable) to face her any longer. With his long strides, he was out of her reach in seconds and so was the life of George. She let out another heartbroken shriek and dissolved into wretched sobs, her pain so great she was incapable of rising to her feet to follow him.

"Edward! Edward please!"

Constance ran to her side, kneeling by her and pulling her Mother into her arms. While Cecily's gaze never left her son, she clung to her daughter with all her might, wailing in a way Constance knew was borne from grief, the grief of a lost child. She'd done it herself many times before and the pain in her heart became unbearable.

"Edward!" She cried and he turned to look at her, eyes glassy with tears "Edward think of what you are saying! What you are doing! She is your Mother!" When he looked away again, Cecily wept even harder and suddenly tore from Constance's arms, struggling to her feet and pushing away any notion of assistance.

Pressing her handkerchief to her mouth, she sobbed a while longer before forcing herself to breathe, to draw in deep breaths that chased away her tears; regaining her armour. Drawing herself up, she walked to the door, head held high and reached for the handle.

"Mother! Please!" Edward suddenly called out, like a child, stepping towards her as if he were about to reach out. There was a moment of silence and then Cecily turned, her eyes ice cold and sharp as a dagger.

"You are no son of mine" She said.

༻᯽༺

17th of February 1478....

While for some, the prospect of losing their Mother's love would weaken their resolve, Edward's only hardened. He hardly spoke, hardly ate, hardly slept, refused to see anyone but his most trusted men - he even avoided Constance who's heart was more aggrieved by the minute.

The day before George's execution was scheduled, she was pacing (yet again) back and forth across her chambers, one hand on her mouth, another planted on her hip, face creased with worry. Her mind raced with a thousand unanswered questions, filling with a thousand scenarios each more dire than the last.

Richard was almost beside himself, Cecily was teetering on the verge of destruction. Would George's death do more harm than good to their family? Would removing his poisonous treason from England kill them entirely instead of restoring the House of York to health?

Despite her political astuteness, her loyalty to her family, Cecily would never forgive Edward for executing George, not for one moment and she feared Richard would be much the same. He would never betray his King but nor would he condone Edward's actions, he would resent him for it and what if that resentment showed? What if it affected her son as he was in his Uncle's care.

Children were not stupid, least of all her Edward, if he sensed a rift between his Father and Uncle, what would he do? Would Richard unwittingly raise the Prince of Wales to resent his own Father? She shook her head, shaking with fear and sobs. What were they to do?

"What am I to do?" She whispered "Oh my good Lord tell me what to do, guide me!"

"Your grace?"
She turned to see Margaret, her friend's eyes widening when she saw what state she was in. Immediately she set down her armful of jewels on the bed, watching, waiting for permission to approach. She knew Constance did not always like to be close to others when she was upset, particularly when she was with child for fear of losing the babe.

"Good Lord, Constance, what ails you?"
The Queen wrung her hands, trying to blink back her tears and failing miserably.

"Tell me....how should we find the strength to bear the wrongs people do us?" She asked quietly "George hates me and the rest of his family, he threatened my children, the life of my husband, he injured my little brother! He aided Warwick in two rebellions, helping to oust Edward from the throne, forcing him into exile, into danger....why should he fare any better?"

Margaret tilted her head, smiling sadly, a knowing look in her dark eyes. She'd known loss, she'd known pain all her life and yet she still stood firm, she still had kindness and forgiveness in her heart.
"The Bible tells us 'an eye for an eye'" She replied "But it also tells us: 'love your enemies, bless those who curse you and pray for those who spitefully use you'"

Constance, of course, knew those words by heart and had since she was a girl but to hear them from another's lips, to have them spoken by one of such faith made her listen anew.

What true good would come from George's death other than he would no longe breathe? Their family would be torn apart by their own hands, opening them enemy attack, to weakness. There would only be unending misery.

"For all that has transpired we should seek the greater good" She murmured, slowly nodding "We should open our hearts to forgiveness, to mercy"
"We should" Margaret agreed "Especially when it is for the good of all" Constance nodded again, a little more settled but still in need of soothing, of assuring.

"Margaret?" She asked, looking up "Will you pray with me?"

Margaret smiled.

༻᯽༺

Constance had herself readied for bed that night in Edward's chambers, hoping that a talk in the intimacy of the evening would aid her case. She dismissed her ladies, relishing the warmth of her velvet bed robe, and pushing her night braid over her shoulder so it hung down her back.

She felt the baby move inside her and smiled, smoothing a hand over her belly. Her next Prince had quickened but two weeks prior and she adored each little movement.

"I know, my love, are you nervous too? Your Father can be rather intimidating, you know, particularly on the battlefield, but never towards me. He loves me and he will love you....I hope that is enough to fill the void left by his lack of love for George, enough to sway him"

With a sigh, she wandered through to the reception chamber from the bedroom and instantly spied Edward by the fire, leaning on a small table in front of him where a partially played game of chess lay. He'd been playing against himself all day. His head on his arms, he stared at the gold and silver pieces, a frown creasing his handsome face.

"Are you unable to beat yourself, my love? Locked in a stalemate?"
"Perhaps" He murmured and she was unsure weather he was speaking of the game or of their current situation. Which was she speaking of? "Take a look, sweetheart. What move would you make?"

Moving closer, she peered at the chess board. He was not locked in a stalemate, the golden king was in a prime position to take the silver knight - he only had to make one move. But if the King moved into the position of the knight, there was a bishop just a row away and the silver Queen straight ahead. Taking the knight could lead to his destruction.

"I would...." She picked up the golden King, moving him one space back "I would spare the knight" She placed her hands on his shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze "I think you should spare George" Edward sucked in a sharp breath "You do not have to set him free" She continued hurriedly "You can keep him in the Tower for the rest of his days but we should show mercy, my love, for the sake of our family"

"Not you too" He muttered "Must even you be against me in this?"
"Yes" She replied firmly "Particularly when it could lead to the destruction of our house" He shook his head.

"It won't. I'll make sure it won't"
Constance was unable to help the scoff that came out of her mouth.
"The only way to do that is not execute George! Please Edward! For the sake of our family!" She grabbed his hand, pressing it against her belly "For the sake of the baby! Your Mother too!"

Edward pulled his hand away, pushing himself away from the table and standing. It was happening again, just as it had with Cecily, he was becoming unreachable "Don't walk away from me!" She caught his arm and he whiled around, dragging it back and almost taking her with it.

"Do not try to sway me!" He yelled as she tried to catch her balance "He has gone too far! He has disobeyed me, he has disobeyed God, he has committed high treason!" She stepped away and he stepped forward, forcing her backwards "He would seek to harm me, you, our children! The only good thing he can do is die and die he will! I decide! I have decided! I am your King!"

Her legs hit the back of his armchair and she fell into it, her eyes wide and breaths quick as she stared up at her husband, heart pounding wildly. He'd never spoken to her thus before, never been so cold, so angry, so unfeeling towards her. He was a different man.

She realised it was no use.
She had failed.

"My...." She found her voice shook "my apologies, your grace....I did not mean to...." At once the anger drained from his eyes and he shook his head.
"No, oh God, Constance!" He dropped to his knees in front of her, pressing his head against her belly "Forgive me, sweetheart, forgive me, I did not mean to shout" She tentatively wound her fingers into his hair, cradling his head "Forgive me, Con, but I will not be swayed and I would ask you not to try and make me"

Reluctantly, she nodded, the sinking feeling of defeat filling her. George's life was lost.
"I won't, my love, I've realised there is naught to be done....but I will not be the one to tell Mother that"

༻᯽༺

18th of February 1478....

Constance did not go to the Tower to witness the execution, but Edward did, leaving before the sun even rose or she stirred. The Queen rose and dressed with a heavy heart, waiting to hear the Tower cannon fire, announcing George's death.

She'd invited Cecily to sit with her as the morning passed in the hope of comforting her Mother but she'd retreated to Baynards and Beth had gone with her for the day. She too had protested against George's death after seeing their Mother in such a state but had gone ignored by the King like all the others.

"Thank you" She said as she kissed Constance goodbye "For trying"

Instead she was kept company by Richard who, before the royals had retired, had stormed into Edward's rooms and almost shouted the palace down trying to save their brother to no avail. He sat by the hearth with her, holding a goblet of wine (having poured himself some) but he hadn't drunk one drop.

"Malmsey" He muttered "It was always his favourite"

Glancing up to where her ladies were dotted around the room, Constance waved a hand. They (particularly Richard) didn't need an audience.
"Margaret, stay and pray for the Duke of Clarence's soul. The rest of you may go"
"Your grace" The chorused and made a graceful exit while Margaret knelt at the prie-dieu, clasping her hands and bowing her head.

"Edward has kept his word in one department" Richard grumbled "He's let out brother choose the means of his death and do you know what George, that fool, has chosen?" He let out a humourless laugh and Constance wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"What?"

"To be drowned in a barrel of Malmsey wine"  Her eyes went wide and Richard shook his head, setting his goblet down with a sigh. Of course George would be so stupid as to choose a death like that - he thought there was going to be a last minute reprieve "it will have been a flippant thought, a last attempted insult to Ned....I doubt he even regrets it now"

"He won't regret it till the last minute" She murmured "When his head goes under and he can't breathe. Maybe even then he won't realise he's going to die"

After that, the two fell silent and the minutes began to pass by one by one, the tension in the air so thick it could be cut with Richard's dagger. Underneath her gown, Constance's knee shook and a dull ache in her belly made her grimace every once in a while.
"I know" She whispered, stroking over the gentle swell "Do not fret, I am trying not to"

"You shouldn't" Richard said and she looked up to find him watching her "for your own sake and the sake of the child" She gave him a wan smile.
"You are kind, Dickon, but I'm not sure I can"

Boom

Their heads snapped up towards the windows and Richard almost jumped from his seat, striding to the nearest and looking out over the city. His breath shuddered.
"George...."

Constance stood, gulping.
"So.....it is done"
He nodded and she saw his fists curl.
"It is done....Edward has murdered our own brother" A few more moments of silence and then he turned, not glancing at her as he headed for the door "I must go to my Mother...."

"Of...." Her agreement was cut off with a scream as agony tore through her belly and she stumbled back, gasping for air. Panic struck her.
"Constance!" Richard was by her side in an instant, wrapping an arm around her waist when she cried out again. Margaret looked up, rushing from the alter as the Queen grappled with her skirts, lifting them and forcing a hand between her legs.

She drew it out and her fingers were covered with blood.

"No....no! No! No! No, please!"
"Come along, Connie, let us get you to the bed" Margaret said reaching to put an arm around her but Richard shook his head, bending down and sweeping the Queen up into his arms.
"I will do it" He replied firmly and carried her to the bed, laying her down.

"My baby!" Constance wept "I can't lose another baby...."
"It may be simply because of the stress...."
"It is God!" She cried "We have killed George and he is angry with us, angry with me!"
"You did not kill him!" Richard said but she shook her head.

"I did not stop Edward from doing it either!"

༻᯽༺

When Edward entered the Queen's bedchamber the room was dark, lit only by candles and the glow of the hearth. Dotted around were her ladies, baring blood stains on their hands and dresses and kneeling at the Queen's bedside was Richard.

Despite it being a womanly affair, he had refused to leave Constance's side and clutched her hand even then, staring down at her form which the King could not see. Reaching out, he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and Richard's head jerked up, pale as a sheet and streaked with tears. When he saw, Edward, his eyes narrowed and he shrugged his hand away, standing and letting go of Constance's and standing; rigid.

"Your grace" He said stiffly, avoiding his brother's gaze and promptly turned on his heels and left without another word. Edward opened his mouth to speak but no words emerged and with a heavy heart, he turned towards the bed.

To his surprise, Constance was awake, her eyes open, staring at the canopy, but unseeing. They were red from crying and her skin worryingly pale, tear stains marred her cheeks and it was only when he looked closely that he could see her chest moving up and down.

"Are you happy now?" Her voice was a croak but angry nonetheless, bitter and heartbroken "George is dead and so is our child" Tears filled his eyes.
"Connie it was...."
"It was a boy" Her head turned and she glared at him with fire in her eyes, fuelled by her pain "It was another precious baby boy and he bled away from my womb...."
"Sweetheart I...."

"Seven children" She yelled, hot tears streaming from her eyes once more "Seven children I have lost. Three stillbirths, two miscarriages, another dead in his cradle...I have lost more children than I have living ones and I am tired of it Edward! I'm so tired!"

"Oh my sweetest love" Kneeling on the bed, he gathered her into his arms and, to his surprise, she cling onto him, burying her face in his doublet while she sobbed for her precious loss. He kissed her hair, smoothing it back from her face, kissing her cheeks. The salt of her tears invaded his tongue but he didn't care, he only held her tight "I promise there will be no more death" He whispered "There will be no more death, Connie, I swear to you...."

Constance only cried harder and they stayed there until the candles burned out, the fire died down and the dreaded dawn invaded the palace.