~Ties that Bind~

When the Yorkist party rode into the courtyard of Baynards Castle, their army now disbanded to taverns, Constance began to suspect that she'd died from excitement for stood on the castle steps before great open doors, like an angel before the gates of heaven, stood the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

Even more beautiful than her own Mother, though guilt pricked at her loyal heart to admit it.

She wore a long gown of blue silk, trimmed with the purest white fur, skirts flaring out from her cinched in waist and precious rings on almost every slender finger.

Her perfectly oval face and defined jawline made her seem a sculpted statue, her small nose and perfectly set teeth shining like the pearls around her neck, her crowning glory a mass of flaxen hair that was like spun gold and left loose to flow to her hips beneath her Duchess' coronet.

Constance knew she would never forget her first blinding glimpse of Cecily Neville.

Her beautiful cornflower blue eyes were like those of a hawk, swift and all seeing, precise, perfect for hunting out those she wished. Those eyes never left Constance as the party approached, flitting across her face to her arms wrapped around Edward's waist.

"Ma Mére!" The call of her son made Cecily look up and a smile brighter than the sun stretched across her lips. There could be no doubt of the pride in her gaze.

"My son!" She greeted, skirts fluttering around her silk-slippered feet as she descended the swept steps "Oh, how you have grown!"

Pulling his steed to a halt, Edward easily dismounted, his boots hitting the ground with a great thud before he was in his Mother's arms. Constance watched the reunion almost enviously, many times had she wished for the love the Duchess clearly bore for her son "You are a true man now, Ned!" She praised and he drew back his broad shoulders, standing tall "In more ways than one"

Her gaze flicked curiously to Constance again and he made a hum of remembrance, releasing her to turn back to his horse and offer up his arms.

"Come, my Lady" He said and, gathering her skirts, Constance slipped easily into his arms, eternally grateful when he chose to keep one around her waist once she was upon the ground. Perhaps that would soften Cecily's heart, she thought, but there was no need.

"Constance I believe?" She asked lightly and the girl nodded, dipping into a curtsy.

"It is an honour to meet you, Duchess Cecily" She managed, praying her practiced words were perfect before rising to find the same dazzling smile on the Duchess' lips as she'd held when she greeted her son. A sound prettier than the singing of angels slipped past them, a laugh, and suddenly, Constance found elegant hands outstretched to her and grappled to take them, thinking she must be dreaming when Cecily spoke.

"My new daughter in law!" The warmth in her voice flooding her throughout. Her eyes came to settle on her belly, flickers of happiness lighting them "And with child?"

Once again Constance was grateful for the little life growing inside of her.

Nodding, her breath hitched in surprised as she found herself drawn into the Duchess' arms and her senses consumed by the heavenly scent of lavender "My nephew wrote to me" Cecily explained, eying Warwick who'd dismounted alongside his brother "So it seems I am permitted some knowledge of my children's lives?"

"You know I am sorry for deceiving you, Aunt Cis" Richard replied, doffing his velvet cap respectfully "but all has turned out well has it not? We are returned from exile! Edward is soon to have an heir!" The Duchess raised her plucked eyebrows, returning to Constance with amusement playing about her sculpted face.

"Men" She chuckled and the girl managed a small smile, feeling Edward squeeze her hip "They never will truly understand us, will they?"

"Ned! Ned you're back!" Two young boys came dashing down the steps, wide grins on their young faces, blue eyes bright with excitement. They were both clearly rather young, the first around ten, Constance wagered, the other smaller, ebony curls bobbing on his head, around seven or so.

Edward let out a merry laugh at the sight of them and promptly bent down, scooping the first into his arms, ruffling the straight brown hair sitting neatly on his head.

"Ah! Here are my little brothers!"
"Im not little!" The youngest protested, fixing his chubby hands on his hips "I'm almost as tall as George!"

"Now now George, Dickon" Cecily chided "Your brother will be tired and you must pay your respects to his wife"

"His wife?" The boy in Edward's arms echoed, George, and he grinned, bouncing his little brother to make him giggle.

"Indeed, George, this is Constance de Bourbon, now Constance of York" The young boys curious gaze turned on the girl beside Edward, George looking her up and down with a little frown.
"She's French!" He exclaimed suspiciously and Edward hooted his laughter, giving an indulgent shake of his head.

"She is, little brother" He confirmed "But she is the loveliest French woman I've ever laid eyes on! Or laid with for that matter" He added as an afterthought, earning a sharp gasp from his Mother.
"Edward!" She scolded while Dickon frowned his confusion.

"What does that mean, Ned?" He asked, peering upwards and George scoffed.
"It means he's gotten her with child, idiot!"
"M' not an idiot" Dickon mumbled resentfully, glaring at his brother before he turned dutifully to Constance and flipped his frown into a polite smile.

"Bonjour ma dame, je suis Richard d'York mais la plupart m'appellet Dickon" 'Hello, my Lady, I'm Richard of York but most do call me Dickon' Her eyes widened at his perfect French, the familiar words warming her heart, and she returned his smile, holding out her hand to kiss. He did so without hesitation.

"C'est un honneur de vous rencontrer, Lord Richard, mon mari a beaucoup parlé de vous! Et votre français est superbe, vous devez être un garçon intelligent!" 'It is an honour to meet you, Lord Richard, my husband has spoken a lot of you! And your French is superb, you must be an intelligent boy!'

Dickon puffed out his chest when she mentioned Edward, eyes shining at the thought he'd spoken of him to others!

"Im George!" George said, squirming in Edward's arms to get a better look at his young wife.
"And an honour it is to meet you too, George" She replied "It seems the House of York boasts many fine young men"

"And women!" A female voice added, making Constance look up to see a girl about her age wandering down the castle steps in a wine red gown, long brown curls falling free to her waist. When she saw her brother's wife, she smiled, hastening down the steps.

"Ah, Meg!" Cecily called "Come, greet your new sister in law. Constance, this is my youngest daughter, Margaret"

"My Lady" Constance greeted, about to dip into a curtsy when Margaret took her hands, intertwining their fingers as easily as if they'd know one another their entire lives!

"Sister!" She corrected happily, tilting her head "It is my hope we shall be fast friends, you must know I've longed to meet you!"
"And now you have!" Cecily chuckled "Come, Constance, you and the babe must be tired after your journey!"

Grinning, Margaret linked their arms together and began to lead her new sister up the castle steps, following her elegant Mother in her swirl of sky blue silk.

Constance glanced over her shoulder, silently asking Edward to accompany her but he only smiled; made a shooing motion with his hand before bending down to his little brothers height. Taking a breath, she stepped into the castle's walls, a wave of coolness washing over her.

"Welcome to the family" Margaret whispered and she smiled.

༻᯽༺

Cecily Neville was indeed a remarkable woman and Constance found it took no more than a moment to respect her; less than a week to love her. The Duchess welcomed her into her home as a daughter, not once treating her as an outsider; a foreign intruder that didn't belong.

She invited her to her chambers in the mornings to discuss her health and the babe's, expressing her delight at least thrice before the bells chimed ten!

The Duchess took a particular interest in her confinement, four slow weeks where she would be shut away from the world before the babe was born! She was anxious her chambers be in a part of the castle where her children's noise would disturb her least yet not be so far away from all else that midwives and servants found it difficult to attend.

After the birth, Constance would serve as one of the Duchess' ladies in waiting, a duty she couldn't wait to uphold! It was an honour and, if all went well as Edward constantly told her it would, she would soon be serving England's Queen!

Cecily aided her in her English, teaching her words she didn't know, gently correcting her when she fumbled. Every day she had Constance read a passage of a book in English aloud to help with her pronunciation and each time it improved!

She was kind, quick, sharp witted but the quality Constance admired most was her piety; as pure as it was strong. It was something the two shared and quite often they could be found together in the castle's ornate chapel, one of the many the Duke and Duchess had commissioned.

The great stone chamber with its golden alter and stained glass windows was where Constance knelt two weeks after her arrival, a sheer veil covering her head; rosary wound around her clasped fingers. The cold of the marble floor seeped through the silk of her gown, making her knees cold, but she didn't care, it helped her concentrate on her prayers.

"I notice you spend a lot of time in here" She looked up as Cecily knelt beside her, humbly crossing herself, a rosary wrapped around her hand.
"Don't we all, Lady Mother?" The older woman smiled, her eyes trained on the bejewelled cross the alter held.

"Well, my sons do not" She returned "and your devotion to God is clear, child, but when I watch you I also see you speak to another" Turning her gaze to her daughter in law, she smiled "May I ask who?" Constance nodded. Where she hardly felt she could speak to her own Mother, Cecily possessed a tenderness, gentle and coaxing that made her feel she could speak of anything and she wouldn't be scorned for it.

"My Father" Came her whispered reply and her fingers began to play with the beads of her rosary, smoothing across the cool onyx spheres "Forgive me if what I say now is blasphemy, my Lady, but when I picture our Lord in his Kingdom of heaven, it is my Father's face that I see, loving me, guiding me, protecting me" She sighed "It brought great comfort after his death"

The Duchess tilted her head, an affectionate smile curling her lips. She'd quickly grown fond of Constance, the image she'd come to hold of her as a mere girl not of her choosing, falling away like petals from a flower in winter.

"It may be blasphemy but you do not offend" She replied, covering Constance's clasped hands with one of her's "The Lord helps us to find our peace in many ways, we are his children and when we grieve he seeks to comfort us. What do you pray for now?" The girl raised her head.

"My husband" She murmured and Cecily hummed approvingly "For his victory and safe return" Three days prior Edward had left London for battle with the Nevilles. The morning he'd departed, she'd sat in his chambers, watching his squires ready him in a shining suit of armour.

It was clear to see from the way he stood, the way his eyes glinted when they caught his reflection in the nearby mirror, that it made him feel a man grown. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, made sure every inch of the murrey and blue livery covering his breastplate was perfect.

Constance knew she did not envy the men Edward would shortly face in battle.

While he proved impressive day to day, in his armour he proved fearsome, a giant of silver steel, towering above all the rest, blade in hand. She could only imagine how he would look seated atop his destrier, a helmet covering his handsome face - he would prove an omen of imminent death to his enemies, she was sure.

Before he departed he'd sent away his squire and drawn her close. One hand on her belly, an arm around her waist, he'd kissed her sweetly, a silent promise of return on his lips.

And still, the image of him in battle did naught but fill her with dread. Although he was skilled, his height and strength unparalleled, she knew God willed even the strongest to fall and prayed Edward never would. For her sake, for his sake, for their baby's sake. She couldn't lose him.

"I pray for the health of my baby too" She continued, earning Cecily's nod.

"You must pray your babe is a son" She said "I believe women can be the equal of men, my daughter, but that is not viewed as a reality in our world. Only a boy can solidify a claim; bring stability to succession. My husband seeks the throne so his line must have as many boys as can be. He has four sons and now his heirs need heirs"

Constance understood that well enough. Baby boys were the ties binding dynasties together.
"I know my duty" She relied stoically, retuning her attention to the golden cross above "and I shall pray God delivers it, it is in his hands"

"That it is, Constance" Cecily hummed, following suit "and we can only humbly ask him to bless us"

༻᯽༺

July 1460, Baynards Castle, London....

Constance sighed contentedly, sitting snugly in the window seat at the top of the castle's west tower, pulling needle and thread through a length of cream satin: a gift from Cecily for her sixteenth birthday. Tugging on the string of blue silk, she held her work aloft, admiring the small stitch completing the dozens of blue flowers adorning the border.

It would become a gown for her baby.

Casting her gaze down, her heart swelled at the sight of the bump rounding the front of her gown. It vanished beneath the layers of silk and linen when she stood but here, her knees drawn up, heavy skirts cascading to the floor, she could see the life curving her belly.

Far below, barges and boats floated calmly along the river under the blinding smile of the summer sun, carrying nobles and lowborn alike along the Thames. Some stopped at the stone dock before the castle ascending its steps and striding inside where she knew Cecily and her children would greet them.

It was custom that she be there too but the Duchess had sent her to rest and so she sat alone in her chambers, staring at the river, completing her work.

Laying the satin on her lap once more she set to work on another little flower, stitching diligently away until the creak of the door made her glance up. To her surprise, a little face peeked into the room, bearing great, wide eyes of sky blue, two cheeks plump with baby fat, painted by the rosy colour of youth, and a small button nose.

One tiny hand crept around the doorframe pulling the small toddler, a girl she realised, into the room, the other carrying a woollen dolly wearing a pretty pink gown almost identical to hers. The little girl peered curiously at Constance for a moment, tilting her head so the honey coloured curls around her face bobbed.

"Hello" She greeted shyly, taking small, wobbly steps towards the window seat as her hands began to stretch themselves out "Up" She babbled "Up, up!" Small fingers flexed eagerly, tiny slippered feet drew her ever closer and before Constance knew what she was doing, she'd set aside her work and was scooping the little girl up into her arms.

She squealed her delight, chubby legs swinging in the air for a moment before she was sat on Constance's lap and the older girl took a moment to stare at her in return.

Where on earth had this child come from? Better still, how had one so young and of such small stature managed to climb the many winding stairs to the top of the tower without falling? She wasn't more than four, perhaps even three, and certainly not the most stable on her little legs!

It was clear the child wouldn't provide answers for she was far too interested in exploring her new surroundings. Now uninhibited, she crawled around Constance's lap, humming happily to herself as she took hold of one of her fingers, gazing at the ring adorning it before her little lips parted, intent on tugging the ruby towards her mouth.

"Ah, ah" Constance chided softly, pulling her hand away so the little girl frowned her confusion, trying to grasp her finger again but to no avail. It was strange, she thought, watching the child as her attention was quickly taken by the small bump hidden beneath her gown and her hands landed gently atop it, how simple children were when the world around was so complex.

Their delight in simplicity, their curiosity, their determination to explore made her heart warm and she hoped her baby would be just like the one sitting on her lap.

"What is your name, child?"
Honey curls bobbed again as the girl looked up, blinking at the question.
"Nan!" She answered proudly after a moment "I Nan!"

"Anne? Annie?" A young girls voice echoed through the castle, accompanied by the pitter patter of feet quickly ascending the stairs "Annie? Our Lady Mother asks for you! You must come greet Aunt Cecily and our cousins!"

"Is....Issy, Issy, Issybel" Anne babbled, bouncing herself on Constance's lap and looking expectantly towards the door. Little by little, the footsteps became louder, closer and finally another little girl appeared in the doorway. Slender yet tall, she appeared around seven, already a little Lady with her hair drawn beneath a hennin.

"Anne!" She exclaimed, spotting the toddler and started across the floor until her eyes flicked to Constance, filling sharply with panic "Forgive me, my Lady!" She said, dipping down into a perfect curtsy "I did not know you were in here, I am sorry if my sister disturbed you!"

"Sister?" Constance returned, eyes flicking between the two girls. Anne and Isabel, she'd heard those names before on her way to England, she was sure "You are Richard's daughters?" She asked "the Earl of Warwick?" Isabel nodded, moving to her side and scooping little Anne into her arms.

"Issybel!" Anne giggled happily, showing her sister her little doll "Look look! Pretty dolly!"
"Very pretty!" Isabel praised, smoothing a hand over Anne's soft hair "You must show it to Aunt Cecily!"

"Constance! Constance!" Constance jumped at the sound of Margaret's excited cry echoing up the stairwell, buzzing with laughter "Connie there is news!"
"News?" She exclaimed when her sister burst into the room, passing by her little cousins as they left, rushing to her sister's side.

"Look!" She urged, forcing an opened letter into her hands, the red seal torn in half by eager hands. Her eyes began to scan the lines of neat ink, the familiar hand clearly her husband's "It's from Ned! A battle was fought! At Northampton! He's won, sister!"

Constance's head darted up, an invisible arrow striking her through the heart, knocking the breath from her lungs. The world around her fell silent, the wave of relief crashing through her body more powerful than she'd ever expected! She'd thought her fear was only for her safety and for the safety of her baby but as comfort spread through her veins, sweeter than honey, more welcome than water for the thirsty, she knew it was something different.

She craved Edward's safety for herself.
For the warmth of his arms around her in the morn.
For the tender words he whispered to her at night.
For the sweet kisses her lips craved more than oranges.

For the flutter of butterflies flying in her heart when she thought of his face.

"Won? He is victorious?" Margaret nodded, eyes shining, lips curved into a beaming grin. It was the greatest news they could hope for! A relived laugh bubbled from Constance's throat, the baby in her belly kicking as her heart began to race with relief and she grabbed Margaret's hands "Thank God!" She cried, squeezing "Edward is safe, he's won! Sweet heaven he's won!"

"And that is not all!" Her sister leant in a little closer, the promise of joy twinkling in her dark eyes "He's captured King Henry" Constance's breath caught in her throat.

"He's captured....the King?" Silently, she crossed herself, staring at Margaret with eyes wider than saucers. To capture a King was to capture his country, the very essence of power on which a realm survived, on which those who controlled him survived. Without him, the strings to their royal puppet were cut, leaving them without influence.

The fortunes of nobles rose and fell with their leader and now the Lancastrians had been stuck low while the wheel of fortune (or rather Edward) had raised the Yorkists high!

If her husband had captured the King, the very man the House of York was seeking to replace then perhaps the war would settle to peace? He was pliable, easily swayed and certainly no match for a man with his wits! Could he be removed after all, would Edward's Father be King? Perhaps her baby would be born in a realm of calmness?

One hand pressed against her belly, the promise of security more than she'd hoped for those past months "Tu entends ça, mon petit ?" 'hear that, my little one?' She whispered "Ton Père a gagné sa bataille ! Il a gagné !" 'Your Father has won his battle! He has won!'

Three little fingers jabbed lightly into her palm a moment later, followed by kicking that made Constance giggle "Feel!" She exclaimed, bringing Margaret's hand to her belly "He's excited!" The York girl giggled, bending down and pressing her ear to the small bump.

"I wonder if he can hear us?" She mused "If he can hear you?"

"I like to think so" Constance replied, feeling her baby kick again. Every day his strength improved "I would like him to know me when he comes! Ned too!"