~To be Beloved~

May 1464, three years later, Westminster Palace....

Inside the beautiful Queen's rooms, silks and satins, velvets of every hue lay draped over chaises and chairs, accompanied by shining jewels that glimmered in the sunlight. The marble floored chambers had been finished only six months before, the final result of King Edward's first addition to Westminster Palace.

As a sign of respect, he bequeathed the Queen's rooms to his Mother, furnishing it with everything her heart could desire while he set about commissioning new apartments for his beloved. In the elegant style of her homeland, crafted from polished marble stone that glowed during night and day, Constance's rooms were by far the most beautiful in the entire palace and all who were invited there considered it a great honour.

Nineteen summers Constance had seen and, fast approaching, was her third as a Queen.

During those three years, she had not only settled into her new role but blossomed from a girl into a woman. Her love for Edward only grew stronger and, while he was not by her side every night, choosing instead to take to the brothels of London with his friends, she did not mind. To her, it was simply the nature of men and to not see was to not feel, leaving her quite untouched by his infidelities.

She quickly got to know the court, digging beneath its golden exterior to find the web of rumour and deceit that could strangle the life from even the highest noble. There was always a plot at hand, always intrigue to be had and she hated the way whispered tales floated from ear to ear on lips seeking only trouble!

Still, her confidence and intelligence flowered, the result of being pushed into the spotlight where she could only grow under the sun of power.

She was not just a Queen, a pretty symbol to stand beside a man, no, beside Edward she was the other half of the foundation upon which a new dynasty would be built and secured. She represented a new reign, a new court and she took on that sacred duty with all she had.

While Edward fought his battles in Parliament and quelled insurgencies against his reign, ever building his image of England's young warrior King, Constance built his court. With her retinue of ladies ever present at her side, she set a new tone for the royal court, dressing extravagantly in French fashions and becoming the figure the noblewomen of England styled themselves from.

She introduced new, vibrant dances from courts across Europe, encouraged growth of the arts, the practice of courtly love and, of course, organised masques and feasts only her homeland could rival. The court held its own mummers to entertain in the evening, a band of Italian musicians from the affluent Florence and poets the envy of many monarchs!

It was a strain on the treasury at times, depleted from the costs of war, but established a new dawn for England in which the streaming sun of Edward IV rose high into the clear sky and soon, all basked happily beneath it. Not only did she establish the English court as a place of peace but her husband's reign as one of plenty, encouraging countries to treat and trade with them.

To the ordinary people, she became beloved. Despite her French blood, she represented the same thing Edward did, a new age and her generous nature captured their hearts.

When embarking on the yearly Royal Progress (an activity she particularly enjoyed) she made it her duty to visit the destitute of each city, the orphanages too, and give funds to them in the hope that some could seek a better life!

While some rulers thought themselves above the people, a God on earth, Constance harboured no such feelings and could often be found surrounded by the poorest, men, women and children alike, listening attentively to each of their problems as if she were perhaps a healer instead of a Queen!

Frequently, she ordered masses said for the poor and on Sundays after prayer, distributed food at church entrances, wishing each soul good fortune in the future.

With kindness she gained affection and with affection she gained loyalty, securing her husband's reign a little more.

But that morning, she did not think entirely of her royal duties, running a generously ringed hand over a length of beautiful burgundy damask, it's golden pattern a feast for her eyes.

Dressed in a gown of emerald green silk, her hanging sleeves brushing the polished floor, her figure glowed, the pearls woven into her hair shimmering in the sun. A golden necklace was clasped around her neck, bearing a diamond crucifix at its end which lay neatly atop the deep, furred neckline of her gown.

Her ladies all sat or stood near her, also in French attire, ever attentive, awaiting her call, yet not the silent brood some noblewomen kept. As with she did with almost all, she forged a friendship between her and her Ladies, creating a merry little group who's laughter could often be heard floating around the palace come rain or shine!

Four women she kept to care for her, all, of course, wives to loyal Yorkists and around the same age as she! Anne, Beth and Margaret all served her as before her coronation and one more had joined after that! Bright eyed Katherine Neville was a jolly red-head, just two years older than the Queen and Warwick's younger sister, the perfect fit for a member of the Queen's household.

Her first husband, William Bonville had fought and died for the Yorkist cause at Wakefield and her second one was the closest friend of the King, William Hastings.

While her hair was a deep auburn, akin to the leaves in autumn, his was a shock of fire curled across his head and his laugh like the jolly roar of a bear, matching his paw-like hands. They were well matched, Constance had noted at their wedding two years prior and she enjoyed Katherine's company immensely!

It was she who the Queen could be found laughing with late at night, often by the fire and with a drained pitcher of wine between them, great smiles on their pretty faces!

"They are freshly imported from France and Burgundy" Constance explained as she gazed over the rest of her new treasures "The jewels are Spanish!"

"And fine they are too!" Beth exclaimed, eyeing a diamond necklace laid out on a velvet cushion "Tell me" She asked, picking it up with slender fingers "do you intend to bleed your household entirely dry on new gowns, this year Connie?"

Constance grinned to herself, draping a river of blue silk over the burgundy.

"Not entirely, no, just partially. Now" Picking up the two lengths of fabric, she turned to Anne who was reading comfortably by the fire, absorbed within the pages as was her habit "Anne, tell me, which do you prefer, the damask or the blue silk? I cannot decide!"

Drawing herself away from her treasured words, the dark haired Duchess glanced up, eyeing the two choices presented to her for a moment.
"I do favour the burgundy" She replied after a moment "but I know you are partial to blues!"

"That I am" Constance replied. Holding the fabrics at arm's length, she stared at them, a certain sadness blooming in the depths of her eyes. It was true, she was fond of many things, of blues and greens, reds and yellows, anything that glimmered that she could adorn herself with but, truth be told, the jewels and fine gowns she adored were merely a poor substitute for the love she wished to bestow on a child.

Ever since James, four long years prior, she had born no living babe. The child she'd carried at her coronation had been lost not a month later, in the middle of the night when there had been none but Edward to hold her, to console her, as she'd bled their baby away.

She'd been granted no chance to mourn, no chance to grieve, the entire affair had been hushed up by the few who knew to prevent her failure being seen as a bad omen for Edward's reign. Even three years later, it caused her great pain to think upon so she distracted herself with sparkling gems and fine silks, in turn distracting the court from her lack of child.

"Hm, perhaps I shall ask Richard" She said after a while, shaking her head "he may be a man but he does have have a fine taste in clothes!"
"Remember Connie" Margaret called from Beth's side "Tis not just yourself you are dressing but the entire court!"

"They would follow her if she put seaweed on her head!" Katherine giggled from the window seat by the Queen's bed, one hand plucking at the tassels on the velvet cushion beneath "The noblewomen favour your garments, your grace. More than that, they favour you"

"Their Lord husbands do not!" Constance returned with a smile "Tis me they blame for England's lack of and heir!"

"Not for much longer!" The redhead replied and her Queen could only look down, a smile tugging at her lips when her gaze landed on the small bump almost entirely concealed beneath her gown. Six months her belly had lovingly held her third child, wrapping him safely in the warmth of her womb and helping him to grow!

Just that past month he'd begun to kick just like James, little fists pressing out of her stomach in a way that would make her heart flutter with adoration. Each night she prayed for her baby's health and each night she felt him grow stronger within her belly!

"Thank you, Kat" She said softly, placing the fabrics down to cup her little bump through the layers of her gown.

"Your grace!" The door of her bedchamber flew open and the Earl of Warwick strode through from the reception chamber, hands clasped behind his back, a small smile on his face. Constance's heart jumped at the sight of him, an affectionate warmth filling her chest as he bowed, nodding to her and each of her ladies.

"Ah, Richard" She greeted, holding out a hand for him to kiss "come in! I was just speaking of you!" A smile spread across her lips as he bent his head, gently kissing her coronation ring like he'd done countless times before!

Over the years, their relationship had flourished, growing strong roots and twisting branches forged in loyalty and affection. It was Richard who had shown her how to keep her head high, to be a Queen at Edward's side, wielding power and commanding respect, voicing her ideas in a manner befitting a Queen.

He was forever at her side, as he was Edwards, and the warm affection Constance bore him blossomed into love, shaping him from a friend to a second Father, a man she looked up to in every way. He was her guiding light.

"Now" She declared, picking up the fabrics once more for his inspection "I will ask you the same question I asked dear Anne, the blue or the burgundy?" He cocked his head to the side, reaching out to brush a hand along the blue silk.

"The burgundy" He decided after a moment "too much blue can often be seen as too French, especially on a French woman who is an English Queen!"

"You are right, of course!" Constance agreed, draping the fabrics over the back of a nearby chair "I shall take them both all the same but the first gown will be of the Burgundy. Now" She gestured to the hearth side and Anne closed her book, offering a deep curtsy as she rose to make room for the Queen and her cousin "tell me, Richard" She continued as they sat opposite one another, smoothing out her skirts "you are the first returned from my husband's latest victories over Lancaster, how does my Lord husband fare? He is well I trust?"

Richard nodded. Peace had more or less been established across the land but that year Lancaster had rumbled in rebellion and the young York King was called to battle once more, something that caused Constance worry every moment of every day!

"Well and more secure on the throne than ever!" Richard replied, much to her relief "But, in truth, there is a reason he sent me to London first and, unfortunately it is not for my skills of diplomacy"
"Oh?"

He smiled, settling back into his chair.
"He sent me to ask after you, to see how you and the babe were in health" He admitted and Constance flushed a pretty pink, a hand gently brushing across her swelling belly "He talks of little else"

"I think of little else"
It was not difficult to detect the ever-present fear in her voice and Richard waved a hand, dismissing her ladies with one swift move.

"My ladies, leave us" He ordered and in a flurry of skirts and curtsies, they were gone, leaving the Queen and the Earl alone "You must not worry yourself so, Constance" He sighed "you know it does you no good"
"How can I not?" She argued "The second babe I carried died in my womb and the first in the cradle, how can I not fear for my third?"

Richard sighed heavily again, sympathy stinging his heart. His wife had lost six babes over the course of their marriage so he knew all too well the worry women were forced to bear for those they carried. And yet, that worry would never do any good.

"Fear will only force your nightmares into reality, what would Aunt Cis say?"
"She would tell me the same she does every day" Constance murmured, cradling her belly "every ounce of worry tips the scales of life out of my favour" Richard nodded, leaning over to pat one of her hands.

"Exactly....many women lose children, Constance, it is the way of life, there is no reason why this son shall not live" No reason at all she supposed but still her worry hung over her mind like a dark cloud ready to rain sorrow.

"My Mother still writes to me" She said and Richard's jaw visibly tensed, the same reaction he gave whenever she talked of her Mother's letters "ever highlighting my failure to produce a son. She asks again and again why I cannot perform my duty when she knows my duty is the most important thing to my heart! Well, perhaps she doesn't, she never really knew me, only my Father did"

Over the years, he'd grown to have no liking for the Dowager Duchess of Bourbon, resenting her for the words she sent her young daughter across the sea. If anything would worry her, her Mother's words would and that was the last thing Constance needed!

"I for one will never know why you do not burn those letters!" He exclaimed for that was exactly what he'd do "They do you no good and Agnes of Bourbon is...."
"My Mother" A smile flickered on his lips. Even when berated, Constance was ever the dutiful daughter.

"Of no consequence to you!" He corrected sternly "You are Queen, what right has she to question you? Besides this babe shall prove her criticisms false. Have faith, Connie!" He was right, she thought, this baby would prove she could and would do her duty to her husband and the realm! She would deliver a son for Edward and all would be well!

She forced a smile.
"Of course, you are right! Now, tell me of Edward, you know this is the first time he has been away from me for battle since we were crowned!" Richard returned her effort, brushing away the bad tidings of Agnes in a single breath, with one person: Edward.

"And it was not in vain!" He enthused, proud of the victories he and the young King had fought for, each weakening enemy resistance, securing their families "Twice he has beaten the Lancastrians bloody! At both Hedgeley More and Hexham they were ground into dust, the latter seeing all of their leaders killed, including the Duke of Somerset...."

His voice ground to a halt and Constance drew in a sharp breath. She had no need to ask why he'd faltered. To the House of York, he was no more than an executioner.

"The man who...."
"Yes, the man who saw the heads of my brother, Father, rightful King and cousin impaled on spikes....I admit it has brought me an amount of peace God never quite granted"

"I am glad you have it" Constance replied gently "Edward too, he is affable to all at court, ever obliging, a glowing figure of youthful power but I see the pain behind his eyes. Perhaps that will lessen somewhat now?" That earned a shrug from Richard.
"Perhaps...."

"I hear George is returning from his training in the North?" She continued, eager not to dig up the gagged where greif rested "to celebrate Edward's victories with us? Does he bring Dickon with him?"

"He does!" The Earl confirmed, eager as ever to talk about his young wards. After Edward's coronation, the King had bestowed the wardships of his younger brothers on his most trusted ally and for the past three years both George and Dickon had spent most of their time in the North of England where Neville power truly lay, training to be worthy of the knighthoods they held.

With no sons from his marriage, he grew to see the two York Princes as his own, particularly young Dickon who followed him like a shadow, ever willing to learn, ever eager to please! Despite his rather reserved nature, he all but lead his other wards, even though he was younger than some of them. His quiet thoughtfulness led to fairness, earning him respect and that was something his guardian could not help but admire.

He'd once thought him nothing more than a little mouse who'd flinch at his own shadow!
"He does and how the lad has grown! He's slender but no longer so spindly, I must say! He's growing to be a fine warrior and even at eleven is beginning to command respect. He's older than his years"

Constance smiled at that, trying to imagine the boy she'd known growing into a man!
"I am glad they have thrived under your tutelage, just as I have"

"I serve your grace as ever" Richard simply replied, his smooth voice deep with sincerity and the young Queen nodded, once again reminded if she was safe with any, she was safe with Richard, Neville, Earl of Warwick, and so was her husband; so would her children be.

༻᯽༺

Edward returned a more glorious King than ever, receiving praise from thousands wherever he stepped foot. London was no exception and as the court waited upon the palace steps, Constance could hear the roar of the ever-adoring crowds.

His royal courtiers were not much different. The King rode into the courtyard with his men to riotous applause and cries of 'God save King Edward!', his armour shining and eyes sparkling, a fresh York livery over his breastplate bearing the arms of England and his own streaming sun.

His face was browned by the sun, his golden hair curling ever so slightly past his shoulders. After months at the head of an army he did not appear the man dressed in heavy velvets he'd grown to be on the throne yet seemed more a King than ever, offering charming smiles here and there.

While he basked in the court's love as always, eager for their acclaim, he only had eyes for his Queen as he approached the marble palace steps. On the arm of Warwick, Constance smiled up at him, dressed in a lilac gown trimmed with ermine he'd bequeathed to her as a gift before he left for battle; the royal colour and fur a reminder that he was King and she was Queen.

Despite the strains of the crown and war, their love had only grown stronger, binding their hearts together in a way neither had imagined could be. It was as if God had intended them to be together and perhaps he had for they formed a partnership so perfect only he himself could've orchestrated it!

Together, they were the architects of a dynasty they were determined to make great; a country they would do anything to make safe for the child in her belly and those that would follow.

As he pulled his steed to a halt, he returned her beautiful smile, noting the rosiness in her cheeks, the distinct shine of her hair beneath her crown and the gentle swell of her belly, slightly rounding her gown. In just three months he would greet their son and was satisfied the realm had never been securer for him than it was at that moment!

"My Lord" She dipped down into an elegant curtsy and Richard placed an arm around her waist to steady her. Edward couldn't help but smile, his cousin worried about Constance as if she were his own "It gladdens my heart to see you safe!"

"Not as much as my heart smiles to see you well and with our child!" He replied merrily, swinging down from his horse to take her in his arms. There was no hesitance, no more formalities, pulling her close, he tilted up her chin and kissed her sweetly on the mouth. The world fell away for the moment and Constance's eyes fluttered shut, relishing the warmth of Edward's lips before he pulled away to embrace Warwick.

"I trust you have kept things in order since your return, cousin?"

"All is well, your grace" Richard replied warmly, clapping the younger man on the shoulder "your son thrives as does your Kingdom! Your brothers are due to arrive any day now!" The young King's eyebrows twitched with amusement and he chuckled, offering his arm to Constance as they began to ascend the palace steps together.

"Dear George and Dickon!" He sighed, armour clanking "My little brothers, although I imagine they are not so little anymore!"

"They are not!" Constance laughed "Richard has been telling me of their accomplishments and I must say I think they shall make very fine knights!"
"Just as our son shall!" A pleased flush stained her cheeks and she nodded, feeling a little kick push against her hand when she laid it against her belly.
"Our York Prince!"