~Vexation and Grief~

August 1483, Westminster Abbey Sanctuary....

Once the excitement of eating had died down, the thoughts of trickery came. Constance certainly didn't think Elizabeth above using poison and so she tried a little of the food and waited an hour (an hour which had her girls sitting at the table staring longingly at a loaf of bread) before she allowed them to eat.

And all swore it was better than any royal feast they'd ever tasted.

In the wicker basket was a loaf of bread, a few slices of meat, a little fish and three apples they all thoroughly enjoyed! It was only after that the two women wondered if they should've left some for later but they needn't have worried for the very next day, another citizen came with food for them to take!

And so it began, an operation that went somehow undetected by the Woodvilles for two months and kept the residents of the sanctuary alive for every day, a person came (usually at first light) and gave them sustenance.

Each morn, Constance or Katherine would try to repay the people's kindness but they all refused any coin or jewels, only wishing for their good health and the true King's return. They also complained of the Woodville rule, how taxes had been raised to pay for their mercenaries and extravagance, to bribe minor nobles to their side and merchants to be their spies.

They were growing more discontented by the day but did not have the power to mount a rebellion, there were too many eyes watching, too many ears listening.

All of the wrongs put upon them would be righted once Edward had the throne Constance told herself each day.

"Have we news of our brothers arrival in Burgundy?" Isabella asked one morning before she popped an apple slice into her mouth. Her Mother sighed, shaking her head.

"Not yet, my love, but we will soon enough, I am sure of it, just as it was with your brother Edward" 
"Neddy" Cecily murmured, munching on a piece of bread and Aliénor nodded to herself "I should've liked to know him better....he was away for so long and so far away!"

"You will come to know him better, my love" Constance told her "Once we are restored to our rightful position"
"You should've seen the celebrations when he was born!" Katherine told the girls who were instantly enthralled by her excited smile "The entirety of London came out to see him on the day of his christening! There was a grand procession from the palace to the Abbey!"

"How grand, Aunt Kate?" Aliénor squeaked, eyes wide and legs swinging back and forth under the table.

"Grander than you can ever imagine!" Katherine replied and a small smile curved Constance's lips. It had been a grand day indeed "The Archbishops of Canterbury and York lead the way on a carpet of red velvet that ran along the road in so many jewels they nearly blinded us all! Your Mother and Father walked beneath the royal canopy, carried by your Uncle James and my dear husband!"

"Uncle Will!" Cecily crowed and Katherine nodded, crossing herself, laying a hand on her heart for a moment. Constance's gaze flitted to her hands.
"And Edward was in your Mother's arms, swaddled in cloth of gold! Your Mother looked an angel!"

"Oh stop it, Kate!" She scolded but her smile did not fade.

"You did, Connie!" Katherine retorted and turned back to the girls "Her hair was unbound, head bare but for her crown, the very one your brothers took with them! Her gown was of the purest white and covered in diamonds and pearls, her sleeves cloth of gold and she wore a cloak of deep purple damask trimmed with ermine! Your sister, Marie, carried her train! The people roared her name, your Mother's name and the names of your beloved Father and brother so loud I thought I would go deaf but I did not care!"

"Where were you?" Isabella asked, her face cradled in her hands, elbows on the table top, as she gazed up at Katherine in complete awe: entranced by her words.

"I was beside your Lady Grandmother with your Mother's Ladies of the time! Your Aunt Beth and blessed Aunt Anne who is now with God" She paused a moment and crossed herself "Your Lady Grandmother wore silver but were in gowns of the softest crimson velvet, my dears, white roses embroidered upon them and our hair loose beneath white veils! Our smiles never ceased!"

"Nor would mine!" Cecily breathed "It is so beautiful!"

"Your brother's coronation shall be even more so!" Her Mother said and the girls beamed "You shall have whichever gown you choose and I shall have new jewellery made for you!"
"Truly?"

"Truly, Cis! Once your brother is secure upon his throne you may have whatever you wish! All will be just as it was" She paused, sighed "As much as is can be....now, be along with you all outside so you may feel the sun! It is good for you! Issy, take your sisters" Isabella immediately obeyed, taking her little sisters hands when they stood and herding them out to their small courtyard.

Constance sighed again, her smile fading "I remember that day as if it were but a sennight ago. And so too do I remember each day, each year, of pain and misery that came before it, some even more painful than the present if that is to be believed....I believe I would be content to stay here forever if I had my lost babes, my five sons and daughter and the little one I bled away. What I would give to save little James from his fever, to cool his skin and halt his cries, even now, for they have been ringing in my ears for twenty three years and I still love him as fiercely as I did then. My boy....my sweet little boy, named for my sweet brother, my sweet, dead brother" She exhaled shakily "Had my sons lived I know one would bear the name of William"

She looked up to see Kate watching her, crying, and felt tears on her own cheeks "There are few men worthy of having a Prince named for them but Will was one of them, Kate, he was more than worthy. He was brave, he was sweet, he could coax a laugh from a deaf man with his jokes! We will all remember him, every day that we live and breathe, the days he should've seen and lived out with us, as Edward should've"

"And James" She whispered "We must live for each of them, for all of them"
"You are a good friend, Kate"

A loud bang rattled the door, making both women jump and their eyes turn wide with fear.
"This is the Mother of the Queen! Open this door!"

"Elizabeth!" Constance hissed, fear flooding her body as something banged against the door again. It was no fist. It was a battering-ram "The girls!" She cried "Get the girls!" She was going to take them. She was coming, she was here! Her children were going to be taken again.

Jumping from their seats, Katherine ran to the courtyard and Constance followed, rushing down the steps as the banging only got louder, the sound of cracking wood reverberating through the walls.

She scooped Aliénor into her arms, Katherine picking up Cecily and they ran (Isabella behind) to the courtyard door, pulling it open and looking out onto the Thames. Perhaps there would be a boat they could wade to, even perhaps some planks of wood they could use to swim to the other side and disappear into the streets?

There was not.

"To the rooms!" Constance yelled and they rushed across the small court yard and back up the steps; into the hall where Katherine let out a cry at the sight of the sanctuary door almost split in half, splintered wood scattered all over the floor.

All hope was lost, they had nowhere to run but, in their desperation, they ran into the children's bedchamber. Constance slammed the door shut, putting Aliénor down as a massive bang filled the sanctuary. The door had come down.

"The bed!" She screamed at Katherine and they grabbed the heavy wooden frame, tears of fear filling their eyes as they dragged it across the small room, pushing it towards the door but heavy boots ran across the hall and it was too late....

The door slammed open, the girls screamed, Constance and Katherine leapt back, shielding the little ones. It was happening again, Constance thought, images of the horror filled night thirteen years ago when baby Edward and Marie were ripped from her arms.

'Not my girls!' Her mind cried as unknown men stormed their way 'Not my babies!'
"No!" She yelled, pushing at metal covered chests but it was no use, she held no strength compared to them. They shoved her and Katherine out of the way, reaching for the girls plucking from the ground as easily as they would pluck a daisy.

"Mama!" Aliénor screamed "Mama!"
"Baby!" Constance cried, reaching out, only to be captured herself, two great hands forcing her arms painfully behind her back as were Katherine's "No! No" She protested as they were hauled from the room and into the hall "No! You cannot do this! We are under the protection of the church! You are breaking God's law!"

"The King is a servant of God, ordained by him" A smug voice said and she looked up, her eyes blowing wide, to see none other than Elizabeth Woodville standing by the hearth, a smirk on her lips, bedecked in jewels "My son only carries out the Lord's will! Take the girls and Lady Katherine to the Tower" She instructed.

"You bitch!" Constance raged, legs kicking out, trying to get to the golden haired demon before her but her captor's strength was more than sufficient to keep her in hand as she was dragged across the chamber, her girl's and Katherine's cries echoing in her ears "Let me go! Let my girls go!"

"You hold no power, Constance!" Elizabeth replied calmly, tone dripping with triumph "We all know that!"

"I know you cast your evil eye upon the soul of my husband!" She spat "You defiled it with your dark magic! You took him from me and I reclaimed him just as my son will reclaim his rightful throne, witch! You are the devil's whore and you will burn in the flames of hell for all eternity! Your soul is blacker than the darkest night and one day I will rip the life from your heart and watch as the light leaves your eyes!"

Elizabeth didn't even blink, she only waved her away.

"No! Isabella! Cecily! Aliénor! Your brother and sister will save you! I promise! I promise you will be safe! I love you! Never forget I love you!" Elizabeth's taunting laughter filled her ears and tears spilled down her face, shoulders burning, as she was dragged from the sanctuary after her daughters and watched as they were carried away out of sight with Katherine, screaming their names "Kate!"

"I will care for them, Connie!" She yelled through broken sobs "I will not betray you, I swear it! I promise!"
"I know!" She cried back and something hard hit her on the back of the head, making the world turn black.

༻᯽༺

September 1483, North Yorkshire, England....

Her hands were bound in iron, heavy shackles encircling her wrists, connected by loops of the same metal; rested on her lap. Inside the dark carriage, the windows covered by heavy black curtains, Constance stared at her bound hands, her eyes puffy and red, likely bloodshot by now.

She didn't know for sure, she had not seen a mirror in over three weeks; just the inside of the carriage and the gloomy faces of the two guards that sat opposite her, blades at the ready if she tried to escape.

They didn't speak, neither did she, the only time she'd heard their voices was when the carriage stopped and for a brief moment they stepped out to relive themselves, or she did. Their voices were gruff, sometimes punctuated with a laugh or a cough. More often than not, it was them that stepped out, not her.

All she did was worry, day in, day out, vexation and grief erasing her appetite and, unlike Kate, the Woodville men did not try to make her eat, they did not care if she lived or died (most likely Elizabeth's instruction) and so her face grew gaunt, her eyes sunken, her legs weaker and her shackles seemed to grow heavier each day.

When the nights rolled in she stared into the blackness of the night until she fell asleep from exhaustion, her body forcing her eyes to close.

She did not know where she was, she did not know where she was going but as soon as she did she would formulate a plan to get to her girls. She would find where her daughters were being held and she would rescue them; they would be safe in her arms once more. It was for them, in the brief moments where she was not crying or her mind spiralling out of control, that she forced food down her throat; drink past her lips.

She would cling to life for them, she would survive for them. No matter where she was, no matter what Elizabeth did to her, she would survive and the witch would die.

Isabella, Cecily, Aliénor She said every time she woke Marie, Edward, Isabella, Cecily, Aliénor, Richard, Charles

She would fight for all of her children that lived, and all the ones who did not.
James, the little one, my two Princes and Princess, Edmund and another sweet boy....

Fourteen children to live for.
That was more than enough.
Just one would harden her resolve.

The carriage rattled, bumping along a rocky trail, knocking Constance into the nearest wall; shackles rattling. She heard voices.

"Where are we?"

The men didn't answer, only looked at her with the same uncaring expressions they always held "Where are we?" She repeated but they still didn't answer and she sighed, gritting her teeth as she sat back, hearing the voices grow louder, the gruff voice of a male calling out and another replying:

"Lower the drawbridge!"

She was at a castle, or a fortress of some sort. She was not in a city, there was neither the noise nor the smell, so it was somewhere in the countryside but was it North or South? East or West? Was it even in England?

She hadn't been on a ship so she hadn't been transported across the continent, though she could possibly be in Wales. Scotland was a possibility but a very slim one - unless they had turned to Arthur's side which she heavily doubted - the Scottish had immense pride and they would never again bow to an English King, they certainly wouldn't bow to an English bastard!

The clatter of rocks and earth beneath the carriage turned to the smoother glide of wood beneath its wheels, a flash of darkness went above them and then the rattle of stone returned though not as pronounced as before suggesting carved slabs; small dips between them. A courtyard. More voices.

The carriage stilled and, for a moment, there was nothing but then the door was thrust open and light poured into her prison, blinding her for a moment. She squinted, tried to make sense of her surroundings but before she could, unfamiliar hands reached in and took hold of her arms; hauled her unceremoniously out into blistering heat. Her shackles rattled again and, though she hated the Woodville men she wished, for a second, that they would follow her.

Though they were not friends, they were at least faces that she knew.

She blinked, the rough, strange hands, tightening their grip on her forearms, and looked helplessly around, her lips parting when she suddenly began to recognise the whitewashed stone walls of a keep, the grey stairs she was being hauled up and ornate oak doors at the top, emblazoned with thick strips of iron, heavy bolts hammered through them.

This was Middleham.
She had been taken to Middleham.
Richard and Anne's home! The residence of her sweet boy!

A faint ember of joy flickered in her heart but blew cold in almost the same instant at the sight of the Woodville banners lining the walls, hung above the doors. She remembered. Not only was it held fast by her enemies, it was so far North! So far away from her girls!

She didn't have much time to think though as she was dragged through the doors at the top of the steps and the cold of the castle washed over her like ice. Corridor after corridor flew by, her bonds rattling, feet tripping upon steps, arms hurting from the cruel tugs she was given when she dared do such a thing. 

Her lungs grappled for air, head spinning, sight wavering and all of a sudden she was thrust into a room, thrown to the floor. Her body hit the stone and she opened her mouth to cry out but all that came from her lips was a weak whimper and a wince as her wrists were grabbed and her manacles unlocked.

They fell from her aching wrists and her hands were set free, left to fall onto her bodice. She groaned and the strangers walked away, their heavy boots pounding on the floor, making her head feel as if it were about to split open. The door slammed shut, keys turned in the lock.

She was alone.

A groan left her lips and she squeezed her eyes shut, wincing when pain flew through her joints as she tried to sit up before opening them again.

She hadn't seen this room before. She'd only ever occupied the most luxurious ones. This one was plain, almost sparse with next to nothing for decoration or to make it pleasant to the eye. She looked around.

Two chairs by the hearth (which was lit even though summer was only just beginning to turn to autumn), a bed with black curtains with a wooden chest at the end  for her belongings (that would prove useless, she thought, she didn't have any belongings to put in it), a single window filled with diamond shaped glass, Richard in the corner....

Richard in the corner?

Eyes blowing wide, she took in the figure of her brother-in-law, screwing her eyes shut again and rubbing them only to see exactly the same when she re-opened them. He was here. He was truly here.

"Richard...." Her face crumpled "Dickon...."
Her shoulders heaved with sobs that broke free from her throat. She bowed her head and within seconds, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. Constance only cried harder, hands clasping the black velvet of Richard's doublet as one of his came to cradle her head; the other on the small of her back.

He was warm, so warm and so real; touch so tender.

The scent of lavender clung to him - and so did she.

"Connie...."
"She's taken them!" She wept "Shes taken my girls! My sweet, innocent, little girls! She's put them in the tower! You know what happened to James at the Tower? To James and Will? What if she kills them, Dickon? My daughters? My babies?" Yet more tears dampened her cheeks and Richard held her, his embrace never once wavering. Finally, her tears subsided somewhat.

She peered up at him and (on closer inspection) she could see he looked older than his thirty years, tired; the lines of his face more pronounced and dark crescents under his eyes "How are you here?" She whispered "Middleham has been taken" Richard tilted his head to the side.

"The castle has been taken by Woodvilles, it is true, but while my own servants have been replaced by so called loyalists of theirs, there are some in their ranks who have become loyal to me. The village is still mine too and quite a few of them have managed to enrol themselves in the castles service, it is by their loyalty I am here" A wry smile curved his lips "And one of the servants passages. Your chamber is not far from mine and I could walk this place with my eyes closed"

Constance nodded, breath shuddering.
"I feared they would kill you too...." She said, her grip on his doublet tightening "that they would put you to the sword or to poison and there would be no one left to protect my son, our King" The hand cradling the back of her head gently moved round to her face and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"He has you, they all have you and they always will"

Her lower lip trembled and she suddenly pushed away from his arms, forcing herself to stand.
"I have no power, Dickon! It is all lost to me, drained away like rain once the clouds have cleared"
"But the sun does not shine over England" He countered, also standing "It is in burgundy and you vastly underestimate the love the people and nobility of England bear for you"

Constance scoffed, wrapping her arms around her torso.

"I believed they loved me but if they did, if they do, where are they in my greatest hour of need? Where were they when the Woodvilles took England?"
"Unprepared in their castles, bracing themselves for a new reign, mourning for Ned" Richard said, leaning against the nearest bedpost, arms folded "Many of our friends are being held to their estates, or closely watched by spies. To declare now, when we are at our weakest would be suicide! We need strength, we need plans" He arched an eyebrow "Thomas Grey is our jailer"

"Thomas Gray?" She hissed, not wishing to alert anyone that may be standing guard outside her door "The whore's son? Why, there couldn't be anyone worse!"
"On the contrary, Connie, there couldn't be anyone better"

Her stormy frown deepened. Perhaps imprisonment had driven Richard mad, she wondered for a moment, for there was surely no one worse to be imprisoned by than the son of your greatest enemy.
"What on earth do you mean?"

"While his Mother has sent him to rule here, Grey possesses a most malleable soul" Richard explained, shrugging "I've already begun to play him, though he does not know it" A triumphant smile tugged at his lips "I have all the moves so of course I'm winning and I will gain us advantage here. In time, if he stays, I very much believe I can bend him to my will while convincing him it is his own"

Of course he could.

Richard may have embodied the spirits of chivalry and honour but he was a clever man, a very clever man, and was more than capable of manipulation if he chose to lay his hand to it. This would be the first time he did so; she knew he would prove a master "It won't be so hard, not once I have a firm grasp on him and my fist is closing already"

Constance's face softened a little and she gave a small shake of her head. He was so very good at soothing her, he always had been. He'd oft been able to soothe Edward too....

"I do not believe I have ever known a man as clever as you are, Dickon" She sighed "You always know what to do and of course you are right! We need order, we need to fight and we will, we have to....but we must wait even if it tears my already broken heart into irretrievable pieces. We must gain position here, advantage as you said, though one that we remain undiscovered in making"

"We will bide our time, Connie" He told her, stepping forward "and when we strike we will rip the Woodville disease from England, root and stem, there will not be a single soul who calls the pretender 'King' when we are finished. We must be patient"

"And my daughters?"

"We will work to get them back. Play the peaceful widow to their faces, cause no strife and fate, or hapless Grey, may smile on you a little. They are not sons, there is little use in keeping them hostage apart from to bargain with you which the Woodvilles will soon grow bored of" Her frown returned.

"And make them turn to a more drastic measure?"
She couldn't bear the thought.
"No" Richard replied firmly "There would be no point. They wish you to submit and that would only ignite your rage" Constance bit the inside of her cheek.

"Hidden and patient...." She said "that shall be our motto" He nodded in agreement.
"I saw the order when I was first held here, a letter penned by Arthur but it was his witch of a Mother's words. It said 'to keep the traitors contained'" She couldn't help but smirk at that. 'To keep the traitors contained' Ha!

"If there is one thing we do know - they were fools to put us together" She said.

Richard smiled and he suddenly looked young again.