~Death~

Early June 1471....

In the weeks that followed King Henry's death, Constance tried to forgive her husband. He was her Lord and her King as well as her love, the Father of her children, it was her duty to stand by him in all. Even in murder.

In her mind she understood his motives, he had not killed the old man for the sake of it, he had done it to protect his family, their children whom she knew she would kill to protect and that was what she tried to focus her thoughts on. But still, the images of that night would not cease flashing through her mind when she looked at him or his brothers, nor would her heart cease its sting whenever she heard the old King spoken of.

Deep melancholy for the death of his son was announced to the kingdom as his cause of death and Constance was sure she'd never felt so ashamed.

Still, she went on as every Queen and woman must.

Two weeks later Constance stood in her bedchamber being readied by her ladies, staring into the hearth blazing in the fire. The weather was warm but the rooms inside the stone Tower fortress were still cool and Constance could not wait to step into the sun but not for its golden rays.

She anticipated the death of Edmund Beaufort - the man once known as the Duke of Somerset, the man who'd had her beaten and her children taken. She was to finally see him die that day.

She didn't possess a taste for bloodshed but found she could not wait to see the man die. He had been tried for treason four days prior and found guilty by the King who sentenced him not to death by beheading as most nobles were given but to be hung drawn and quartered.

Now he would suffer as she had suffered, as Edward had suffered, as their children and kin had suffered. The King and Queen would watch, so would the King's brothers and many of his loyal followers - including his own Mother.

"May I attend with you, sister?" Anne asked as she brushed out the Queen's long hair for it to be loose beneath her crown. Constance smiled, nodding her assent. The freedom from her husband had given Anne in law a new lease of life, it seemed, her smiles were brighter, her laughs louder, her steps merrier when she danced.

It pleased her entire family greatly.

"Of course, any who choose to do so may attend - the entirety of London already awaits at Tyburn"
"I shall certainly accompany you" Isabella voiced, placing a necklace of diamonds around Constance's throat and Katherine nodded her agreement.

"And I" Beth voiced "The name Somerset has long caused pain to our house and I shall see it ended"
"Not I, I can hardly stomach blood" Lizzy murmured and Constance turned to her with a soft smile, taking the girl's hands in her own.

"Stay and spend time with your daughter" She said "I know you have had little time to see her since entering my household" Lizzy beamed, her brown eyes lighting with joy and immediately dipped into a deep curtsey, making the woman about her smile to each other.
"Thank you, your grace!"

With a nod, Constance turned back to the fire, lifting her arms so Beth and Anne could smooth the creases in her hanging sleeves. Made of the same heavy purple velvet damask as her gown and trimmed with ermine, lined with cloth of gold, they swept the floor with majestic elegance, joining her train as she moved.

"You certainly look a Queen" Katherine remarked and Constance smiled, admiring herself in the nearby mirror. Katherine was right, she did look a Queen, even more so when Anne placed the crown on her head before all her ladies curtsied in unison.

"Your grace" Beth said, bowing her head and Constance bade them rise, triumph swelling in her chest.

"Come" She instructed "My Lord husband shall be awaiting us and I know he wishes to depart soon, he does not want to delay the traitor's death a moment more!"
"Nor do any of us" Anne murmured as they departed.

True to her word, Edward awaited them outside the Tower with his brothers, dressed in the same purple damask and ermine as his Queen and donning his crown. Gliding to him with her ladies in tow, Constance swept a small curtsy before he took her hands and she greeted him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Today is a fine day" He said and she nodded her agreement, smiling as he escorted her to her carriage "and it is made even finer by your beauty!" As always, she couldn't help but blush at his words.
"And your silver tongue"
Winking as a guard opened the carriage door, bowing low, he leant in to her, a mischievous glint to his eye.

"We both know that is not the only thing I can do with my tongue, sweetheart" Her blush deepened and she felt heat pool in her stomach; peered up at him from beneath dark lashes.
"Is that a promise for later?"
Edward smirked, drawing circles on her palm with his thumb.
"It most certainly is, my Queen"

"Come along, Ned!" George called from where he and Richard waited by their horses "I thought you wished to get there!"
"I'll be along!" Edward replied and with another wink, helped Constance up the carriage steps before strolling away.

"I know that look!" Beth remarked as she clambered into the carriage with the other ladies in waiting "You two really are enjoying this day, are you not?"
"How could they not?" Anne asked, smoothing out her skirts as she sat "I certainly am!"

They rode through the city to the riotous cheers of crowds lining the roadside, many of whom followed the royal procession to the Tyburn fields where thousands had gathered. On broken walls, tree branches and old carts, spectators craned their necks to look at the scaffold erected for the occasion, on top of which was a plain wooden table beneath a thick wooden beam.

Behind it was a great, raised set of stands where members of the nobility were already settled to watch the execution. The middle was even higher and two thrones lay under the royal canopy - places for the King and Queen.

When they arrived, the King on his white destrier, the Queen waving from her carriage, riotous cheers erupted, their people crying out declarations of adoration; chanting their names.
"Long live King Edward! Long live Queen Constance!"

Edward escorted his beloved consort to their dais, smiling and waving as they passed the crowds - the perfect image of united rulers. The nobility rose to their feet, bowing and curtsying respectfully when they ascended the dais and sat, still hand in hand.

With her free one, Constance smoothed out her skirts, looking at the scaffold in front of her. She hadn't brought her rosary. While the Bible taught her to turn the other cheek, and for the most part she did, she had no intention to forgive a man who'd taken her children, who'd helped in the removal of her husband from power and beaten her.

The only prayers she would be offering were pleas for God to bar him from heaven.

"Beaufort tried to starve himself after he heard his sentence I am told"
She turned her head at Edward's voice to see him peering up past the canopy to where the sun lay at the peak of the bright sky.

"And yet the Lord has preserved him, showing his pleasure at your reign and the act carried out today" She replied "He is pleased to see your justice!" Edward turned to her and she smiled, watching as he raised their joined hands to press a soft kiss to hers.
"I am pleased to attain justice for you" He replied with a small sigh "each time I see your scars I am angered anew"

"Do not be, my love" She urged, leaning into him "They show my pain but they also show I survived. Once this is done, let your anger go in place of joy!" Edward tilted his head and adoration sparkled in his eyes.

"You are a good woman" He said "I am proud to have you as my Queen"
"Maxime Felix is our motto, we are lucky to stand by one another when the Lord could've chosen a different path"

Neither wanted to think on what that path could've been, all they knew is they would be without one another. Placing another kiss to her hand, Edward turned his head to the crowds at the distant sound of hundreds of voices shouting, jeering.

"Ah" He said, settling back into his throne as Constance did "Here comes the traitor, my sweet Lady, let us witness what happens when one dares to harm you" He glanced at her, eyes filled with a protectiveness fiercer than fire "It will never happen again, Connie, I swear it. I swore to protect you on our wedding day and I will, no one will ever raise a hand to you again"

Somerset was a bloody sight with a broken nose, black eye coloured a deep purple, swollen, and a cut above his right eyebrow. Stripped to his shirt and breeches, his feet were cut and bloodied from his walk from the Tower and, though there were guards around him (and a priest), marching him through the crowd, they could protect him entirely from the people.

They pelted him with rocks and rotten food, shouting every insult their minds could muster - 'Traitor!' being the most common.

Constance watched with narrowed eyes as he was escorted up the scaffold steps, the people still jeering and, with a shove from one of the soldiers was forced to his knees before the King and Queen. He landed with a thud but raised his head all the same, defiantly blowing his tangled hair away to stare at Edward with his one good eye.

The York King tilted his head, glaring at the other man before he gestured for the nearest noble to rise from his seat. James. Who better than the man who now held the traitor's title to announce his sentence to the realm before he died, he'd asked, and James had readily agreed.

Seeing him stand, the crowds fell silent and James unfurled the scroll he carried, holding it before him as he cleared his throat.

"Edmund Beaufort, you been brought hither this day to die. You have been found guilty by the law of this land of committing heinous acts of treason against the crown and under the just jurisdiction of our mighty sovereign Lord, King Edward the Fourth of England, anointed by the Almighty to lead this blessed land, are sentenced to hang by the neck until you are half dead before being cut down upon which your entrails shall be removed and burned whilst you are still alive"

The words were brutal and Constance was glad to see Somerset visibly swallow, his stern gaze at the King wavering until he looked at the wooden boards beneath him. Edward smirked, squeezing her hand.

"Then, you shall be beheaded and your body quartered. After, your head shall be set upon a spike and displayed for all to see as a warning to all others who would seek to stand against the one, true King. The remainder of your traitorous body shall be sent to the four corners of the Kingdom" James gritted his teeth as he begrudgingly read the last words on the page "May God have mercy on your soul"

When James sat, the condemned man had no time for last words, he would not be given that luxury, he was hauled to his feet and dragged backwards, his eyes growing wide. The priest began to mutter prayers, making the sign of the cross and looking to the heavens above.

The noose was thrown around Somerset's neck and one soldier tossed the remainder of the rope over the wooden beam above his head. As soon as the three on the other side caught it, they began to pull and the traitor was jerked into the air. His hands immediately went to his neck, jerking at the noose as he began to struggle for breath, his eyes bulging from his skull and his face turning from pasty white, to red, to an ugly purple as the seconds passed.

When he was almost unconscious, Edward raised his hand and Somerset was dropped to the floor, vomiting as sweet air entered his deprived lungs. He would soon wish he hadn't taken that breath.

The crowd jeered before their shouts turned to cheers as the executioner made his way up the scaffold steps, dressed in black with a leather mask covering his face and a great knife in his hand.

"I wish he didn't have to wear that" James remarked as a Somerset tried to move away only to be grabbed roughly by the soldiers "I'd like to know who he is to thank him personally for his service"

That would've usually elicited a chuckle from Edward but he was too focused on watching his enemy struggle, on the scratching 'No's, conjured by his oxygen deprived mind that had no room for bravery, he began to yell as he was lifted onto the table in  the centre of the scaffold and his limbs tied down.

"Are you sure you wish to watch?" He murmured to his Queen, well aware of the grisly sight about to erupt and her gentle nature. Constance didn't once tear her eyes from the spectacle, watching Somerset wrestle against his restraints as the executioner loomed over him and, with great hands, ripped open the front of his dirtied shirt.

Again, Somerset yelled a protest and satisfaction bubbled within her. She remembered the young boy she'd slain, the child he'd stuck his sword through and looked on as if he were no better than dirt. He'd slain him so easily yet now, facing his own death, he was no braver than a babe being taken from his Mother 'Let him protest' She thought 'he will find no mercy as he gave none'

She glanced at Edward for a moment.
"More than anything"

The executioner raised his blade, the sharpened metal gleaming menacingly in the sun. Somerset yelled out one more protest, one more hopeless plea into the air.

The knife came down.
The people cheered.
Crimson red blood streamed over pale skin.
Somerset screamed.
A small smile curved Constance's lips.

"Anne?" She called and her nearby lady in waiting rose to her feet, ready to carry out her Queen's will.
"Yes, your grace?"
"Fetch me an orange"
Anne curtsied deeply, a smile appearing on her lips as it did her Mother's who sat by her.

"Queen Isabella ate a plum at the execution of Hugh Le Despenser" She called over the roar of the crowds and the traitor's screams which became ever louder as his torso was split open and his blood dripped onto the scaffold.

It did nothing to deter the Queen's appetites and when Anne came back with the requested orange, she smiled all the more, taking it and returning her eyes to the spectacle in front. While the executioner peeled back Somerset's skin to reach his innards, Constance peeled away the skin of her orange to reach the bright segments beneath.

Biting into one, the sweet juice ran down her lips as Somerset's bitter blood ran down his skin while he screamed. The young girl that came to England would've balked at the sight and wretched sounds, thinking it wicked and unable to stomach the grisly scene, she suspected the Queen of three years prior would've too to some degree.

Now, she watched on, listening without an ounce of disgust.

She had been reborn through the trials she'd faced that past year, gaining a streak of ruthlessness to her otherwise gentle and forgiving nature, a streak that could overcome all else when it came to protecting those she loved. Somerset had taken her children and she was glad to see him die for it, nay, she relished it. Perhaps her heart had been hardened somewhat but she cared not, she knew she would stronger and would protect her House all the better for it.

"Long live the Queen!" She heard a someone in the crowd cry over Somerset's agonised cries as his entrails were plucked into the day, and bit into another segment of orange.

Yes, she was the Queen, and she intended to live long indeed.

When Somerset's cries finally grew silent, she felt something she'd not felt in a long time. Peace.