~The Greatest Grief~

May 11th 1474, Windsor Castle....

Her arm looped around Edward's, Constance walked through the castle gardens, the warming temperature pleasant on her skin, although making her ever so hot because of the babe. At eight months the little one was nearing fully grown and moved very little in her belly.

She groaned a little as she took another step and the weight of the babe made her back ache, causing Edward to stop immediately and look her up and down with loving worry.
"Are you well? Is the babe well? Is there anything I can do? Would you like to go inside? Should I send someone?"

"No, no, my love" She assured him, pulling him back to her side as he'd already begun to take off in search of a servant "It is just....oh never mind"
"No! Not never mind!" He corrected, cupping her face "Tell me, tell me what ails you" Her heart swelled with love for him, despite her pain.

"Well, it is only the babe grows heavier by the day....it makes my back hurt terribly at times but I love walking with you and I do not wish to stop!" Edward smiled, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"It will not stop. Here...." He moved behind her, slipping his hands around her waist, under her belly. She was about to ask what he was doing when, suddenly, he lifted it and a great relief washed over her, greater than when a knight removed his armour she wagered. Sighing in contentment, she leant her head back against Edward's shoulder and he chuckled, kissing her neck.

"Better, Connie?" He asked and she nodded.
"Much....thank you, Ned"
"Good!" He laughed "Now all we need is to figure out how to walk thus to keep you comfortable, you put your right foot forward and I'll do the same" Constance giggled as she did so "Now the left....now the right.....left right...."

Eventually, they managed to find a rhythm, slowly making their way through the gardens, Edward whispering sweet nothings and jokes into her ear while she laughed. The heat disappeared from her body so she no longer felt dizzy and she relaxed, leaning her head back against Edward's shoulder, content.

"The roses are beginning to bloom, Ned" She remarked, smiling when suddenly, unbearable pain shot through her belly and she cried out, bending over to try and protect herself from the agony.

"Connie!" Edward yelled, instantly wrapping his arms around her and trying to figure out what to do as she cried out again, clutching at her belly. Suddenly her eyes went wide and one hand was clawing at her skirts, drawing them up until she could reach between her legs. A quivering breath escaped her after a moment and slowly, slowly, she drew out her shaking hand into the light, her lips parting when she saw her fingers drenched in blood.

She looked to Edward, tears filling her eyes.
"The baby's coming...."
A sob tore from her throat and she crumpled to the grass, pain ripping through her belly again as she shook her head "No....no, no no!"

"We must get you inside!" Edward said quickly, hooking his arms under her knees and shoulders and lifting her from the ground where she buried her head in his neck.
"It's too early!" She cried, shaking "It's too early, Edward!"

"All will be well, my sweetheart" Was all he could muster, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he practically ran through the gardens, his heart pounding, the erratic beat pulsing in his ears. His beloved couldn't lose another child, another baby, she wasn't sure her heart could take it, especially if it proved to be a boy "Many children are born early and live to be old!" He tried to reassure them both with "It is only a sign that our Prince is eager to greet the world!"

"But I don't want him to!" Constance wept "I'm not ready! He's not ready!"

Immediately the castle was sent into panic, particularly the Queen's ladies who worried for their friend as well as the babe. The King's Mother was sent for from Baynards Castle along the river and the royal children kept firmly away from the Queen's screams so they weren't distressed.

Four hours later, Constance was in her sweat-soaked shift, sat on a birthing chair with midwives and her ladies surrounding her. Her hair was a mess around her face, the floor beneath her covered in a pool of blood that dripped from between her quivering legs.

The women watched with worry, trying all they could to help her deliver the baby. She was more than a month away from full term and as tears leaked from her eyes, she prayed to the Lord above to spare child, to let them live even if she did not.

"You will live, Constance" Cecily said firmly as she rose from the floor where she'd been praying that past hour "You must push, child, please you must push" The Queen didn't hear her, all she could hear was the beating of her heart and the sound of her broken sobs, her deafening screams when she pushed.

"Please...." She whispered, digging her nails into the chair's carved arms as she pushed again, gritting her teeth as an agonised cry ripped through her.
"He is coming, your grace" One of the midwives said "The head is here, now you must push for the body"

Constance pushed with all her might, almost forgetting to breathe as her head snapped back, pain overwhelming her. Sobbing and screaming, she pushed again, crying out when she felt the babe free itself from her and fall into the midwife's waiting arms.

Slumping into the chair, cool cloths were immediately pressed to her face and she waited for a cry, fearing she would go mad until a sharp slap sounded and a little wail sounded. But it was weak, quiet and Constance tried to raise her head, vision swimming as she looked down on the tiny baby in the midwife's embrace.

"It's a boy, your grace" She said, breathing heavily but she did not smile as everyone had done at the birth of Edward, she carried a sad look in her eyes as she looked up to her Queen "I'm sorry" She whispered "but he is frail....too frail...."

Constance stared at her for a moment, disbelieving in her dazed state until the arms of her kin began to wrap around her, a female shield of understanding and she broke into uncontrollable sobs; heart breaking in her chest.

༻᯽༺

Her hair brushed and body cleaned in a nightgown and flowing green silk robe, Constance paced up and down by the crib in her chamber where her little boy now lay. She could hardly walk, still in immense pain from the birth but she didn't care and her husband and her ladies watched, each of them holding tears in their eyes.

The palace priest had been called and quickly christened the babe in anticipation of his passing. The Queen sobbed the entire ceremony, even when Edward named the boy Edmund. Edmund of York for his brother, and he wouldn't have done that if he didn't believe the boy would live but that gave her no solace.

Edward had tried many times to go to her but she'd pushed him away, refusing his touch or the words of comfort he and her ladies offered.

"I will not have you speak as if he is already lost to me!" She screeched before whisking little Edmund from his cradle, her hot tears dripping onto his pale cheeks. He truly was tiny, his limbs spindly, his weight lighter than a feather's.

"Go" Edward ordered, waving a hand to her ladies and his Mother as Constance perched on the end of her bed shrugging her robe away and manoeuvring her nightgown to reveal her right breast. Desperate, she held the babe to her swelled bosom, trying to guide him to her nipple so he could suckle but he refused to latch on, or rather he didn't have the strength to.

"He won't take!" She wailed when she tried again and again he didn't feed "He won't take to me Edward! He won't feed!" Edward sat beside her, placing an arm around her shoulders as she tried to get their baby to suckle "Please" She whispered through broken sobs "Please, sweet boy, please feed"

The tiny baby only lay in her arms his little chest barely rising and falling, his eyes remaining closed. She didn't even know what colour they were....

"Why won't he take, Edward?" She sobbed and he held her tighter, slowly pulling her onto his lap to cradle her as lovingly as she cradled their boy "Why does God seek to take every boy I carry?" Two heavy tears slid down his cheeks and his shoulders heaved.

"I don't know, my love....but I wish he would not, I wish he would spare you this pain...."
"He can't die" She whispered "He cannot die, I can't watch my sweet boy die in my arms, Edward" He shook his head, burying it in his hair.
"I will be here, mon coeur, I will be here every minute and we will watch over him together.....may I hold him?"

Constance swallowed heavily, not wanting to be separated from her son for a moment but nodded all the same. While she was his Mother, Edward was his Father, it was only right he should hold him, particularly if this was his only chance. He gently lifted Edmund from her arms, more tears gliding down his face as the little boy stretched his limbs a little but still refused to open his eyes.

What did they look like, his Father wondered, were they blue like his? Green like his Mothers? Would little wisps of brown hair grow on his smooth head or would they be wisps of gold? The dreaded feeling residing in his gut told him he'd never know.

"Edmund" He murmured, gazing down into the little boy's tiny face, the little hands that were curled up beside it "You are a perfect York Prince" Constance sobbed into his shoulder, nodding "And I love you. Your Mother and I love you"

"With all of our hearts" She finished "And we will always love you, my sweet precious boy" Sighing heavily, Edward settled their son back into her arms and she held him with all the love in her heart, pressing kisses to his face, stroking his cheeks and tiny hands "I love you" She whispered, watching his chest ever so slightly rise and fall, up....down....up....down....up....down for a precious half hour or so, and then, it lay still.

Edward sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing her shoulder and she exhaled shakily, oblivious to all but her little boy....her dead little boy.

Rising on quaking legs, she slowly walked to his crib, stumbling as she went and tears blurred her vision. Pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, she lowered him into the cradle, nestling him beneath the soft covers before she finally releasing, standing up straight.

And then, she screamed.

A hand clutched at her chest and she sunk to the floor in billowing waves of silk as her blood-curdling cries worsened. Her sweet boy was dead, another son was dead, she'd lost another boy. In her wretched mind, there was only one person to blame.

"She did this!" She screamed as Edward ran to her, kneeling and pulling her into his arms "She did this! It was her! She's killed my son! She's murdered my son!"

"Connie...."
She wrestled against his embrace.
"Our son is dead! He's been taken from us!"
"God has seen fit to wound us again...."

Pushing him away from her, she stared at him with bleary eyes, shaking her head over and over. How could he be so blind when he had to perfectly good eyes to gaze upon the world with? How could he not see this was witchcraft, she was sure of it, why else would her son be dead?

Elizabeth was a witch, her Mother had been a witch. Why did he not see that?

"No, not God, it was her! It was her, I know it! It was Elizabeth!" She screamed, fisting her hands so hard in her hair, Edward feared she would tear it from her scalp.

"Sweetheart" He tried, wanting nothing more in the world than to comfort her but she only shook her head again.

"I know it! I know it, Edward! She is a witch and she's cursed my baby boy as payment for depriving her of power...." Her voice suddenly trailed away, a crazed look contorting onto her face as she stared around the room as if Elizabeth was lurking in one of the corners.

Grasping the side of the cradle, she shakily rose to her feet "Perhaps she killed our other sons" She whispered, hands twitching on the wood "Perhaps she killed my babes in the womb, the three children I lost after she arrived, my two boys and little girl...." Edward was almost scared of the look in her eyes when their gazes met, twisted so much with grief, she no longer seemed the same person.

"What if she killed them?" She continued "What if she has murdered four of my children? What if she seeks to kill more still? What if she seeks Edward or our girls?" A wail escaped her throat and she collapsed to the floor again "I cant take it!"

Instantly, he was at her side, gathering her into his arms and pressing kisses all over her face as she dissolved into tears, trying to return her to the Connie he knew. Such dark thoughts that forced themselves forward in grief would drive her mad, he thought.

"No one killed our children, Constance" He murmured "they were taken into God's arms, it was his will"
"No....no...." She protested, shaking her head against his chest "she is a witch....her Mother was too, I know it!"

"It is only rumour, Connie" He corrected gently "our son has passed into God's hands by his command, that is all there is to say and now we must mourn our dear boy" Constance sniffed before she began to sob again, clawing at Edward to draw him closer, as if he could act as a shield against the pain devouring her.
"Our boy...." She wept "My sweet, sweet boy...."

༻᯽༺

St George's Chapel, Windsor Castle, five days later....

Constance stared as her son's tiny coffin was lowered into the ground in a grave beside his three siblings who had been moved there the previous year. Now three Princes and a Princess lay beneath and along with James buried at Baynards and the little one miscarried after the coronation, baby Edmund made their total six.

Six dead babes out of ten.

Two of his four living siblings now stood beside their Mother - Princess Cecily still too small to attend. The Queen didn't cry, she'd spent too many hours shedding tears for there to be any left and so simply stood in silence as the funeral proceeded.

A sombre black gown covered Constance's body, a veil covered her face and, apart from her wedding ring and the rosary attached to her gown's sash, she was void of jewels. Edward stood tall beside her, clad in black too and their hands were intertwined, providing a subtle comfort they were both in dire need of that day.

Once the priest had finished his long lines of Latin and the stone slab, cut in a diamond with a white rose painted atop it, was settled on the grave, Edward moved away to speak to Will, making sure the Queen's ladies and her brother surrounded her before he left.

She continued staring at the floor as James took her hand, gently squeezing.
"I'm so sorry, Connie...."
She shook her head.

"My son was not taken by God, Jamie, this was not the Lord's work, it was the Woodville whore's. She took my son, she used her witch's magic and killed my baby boy...." She paused "Lady Margaret?" Margaret stepped forward, in the black of mourning as the other ladies' were.

"Yes, your grace?"
"Pray for my boy and for his killer to be damned to hell....if our Lord above will listen to any he will listen to you"

"Of course, your grace" She agreed, looking up to the Queen for a moment "may I accompany you back to your chambers? I think rest would prove helpful, you've had a very tiering day" Constance slowly nodded and James leaned in to kiss her forehead before leaving her to the care of her ladies as Edward returned.

The journey back to her apartments was a blur. The whole world felt empty, as did her heart which was shattered into a million pieces. To have her baby die in her arms and her being unable to do anything....it was just as it had been with James. At least little Edmund hadn't been in pain like his elder brother.

Edward never left her side, dismissing her ladies when they reached the Queen's chambers and declaring he would attend their Mistress himself despite his superior position.

He carefully removed her veil and kissed her gently on the lips, making her sit on her bed as he tenderly removed her shoes and stockings before brushing out her hair. Constance didn't speak a word, smoothing her fingers over the beads of her rosary, her face blank of all emotion - a broken statue. She stood as Edward unlaced her gown and kirtle and then, removing his own boots and doublet, lifted her and climbed onto the bed.

Settling back against the pillows, he lay her against his chest, his fingers gently massaging her scalp and combing through her loose hair.

She didn't sleep, nor did he, but she did take some comfort in his arms until he kissed the top of her head.

"I must go to a council meeting, my sweetest" He told her gently "I wish I could escape it but there is trouble on the border with Scotland and I wouldn't wish to lose our Kingdom as well as our beloved boy"
"Go" She told him, relishing the kiss he gave her "Send Lady Margaret to me, she shall provide solace"

"Of course, my love"

He did as she asked and soon Margaret was silently gliding into her chamber; sweeping a deep curtsy at the foot of the bed. She immediately went to her Queen's side, kneeling and taking Constance's hands.

"Tell me what I can do, Constance" She said softly "what can I do to soothe you?"
Constance shrugged, looking up at the bed canopy with blank eyes, she wondered if Margaret had ever felt such pain.

"You have a son, do you not?" She asked at length, sure she remembered Will speaking of him when Edward dished out a title to George one summer, she recalled him saying Lady Margaret wouldn't be happy.

"I do, your grace but he may as well be a stranger to me" Constance turned her head on the pillow to face her, remembering another scrap about the boy.
"Because he is the nephew to King Henry?"
Margaret nodded sadly.
"Yes, because of his blood he is forced to live away from me....my only child....my only boy who I carried in my womb when I was just twelve"

Constance's eyes widened.
"Twelve" She whispered and tears blurred Margaret's gaze. She'd heard the tale before, of how Margaret was wed as a mere child to a man twice her age and how he'd begotten her with child before dying. Still, it shocked her all the same to hear it from her friend's own lips.

"It was too soon" She admitted, rather shakily "I believe children are a blessing from our Lord but...." She hung her head, shaking it "It was too soon....it was all too soon...."
"You were a child...."

Margaret raised her head again, a sad smile spreading across her lips that told Constance she'd heard that phrase many a time before. No matter how it was said, with sympathy or with shock, it didn't change her memories, it didn't change what she'd suffered.

"My husband payed no mind to that" She said "He thought I could bleed so I could breed, even though the physicians told him it was dangerous and so he came to my bed....it was only by God's will that I survived the birth, I thought I would die"
"Many girls would have"

Margaret nodded in agreement before casting her eyes to the ceiling above, releasing one of the Queen's hands to cross herself.
"Our Lord did not let me, he saved me, but why, I often wonder" She sighed "I cannot see the child he bade me carry, he is in exile in Brittany with his Uncle, Jasper"

Constance nodded.
"I am sorry for that, Margaret"
"God has a plan, I am sure of it, your grace. I am here to serve you now" Her hands gave a gentle squeeze "perhaps that is his purpose for me?"
"You serve me well" Constance replied "You always have"
"And hope I continue to do so"

After a moment, the Queen sat up, brushing her hair behind her shoulders. All but one of her son's were dead and Lady Margaret's only one was still alive. She could see Edward, providing solace to her bruised soul, what solace did Margaret have but prayer? She could not bring her lost babes back, but perhaps she could bring Margaret's.

"As I hope that perhaps I may be able to ease your sorrows....." She said "I shall speak to my husband of your son"

Margaret's eyes widened with disbelief before she let out a true cry of joy and grasped Constance's hands once more.
"Thank you, your grace!" She laughed, pressing kisses to them "Thank you!"
"It is the least I can do" Was the reply she received "Now, I think it best if we pray for a while"

Margaret didn't hesitate to obey, her heart filled with affection and her mind filled with awe for the women who, despite her own tremendous grief, did not cease seeking to soothe the grief of others.

༻᯽༺

June 1474....

Constance stared at the covers covering her legs as she sat in bed, her fingers aimlessly plucking at the embroidered coverlet. Ever since the funeral for her sweet boy she hadn't set a foot from her chambers. All she'd done was cry and pray and sleep a little when she could, often thinking of what she would be doing if baby Edmund had lived or his pregnancy had ended normally.

She would've been in confinement by the current time, she thought, safely tucked away in a dark room with she and her ladies waiting on the fateful day she began her labours. Perhaps if he'd been determined to be early she would've already given birth but perhaps he would've lived? What if he'd had one more week, one more day, she constantly asked herself, would he have lived if her body had waited just a little longer?

Would she be holding a precious second son in her arms?

Sighing, she rested back against the headboard, listening to the crackle of the chamber's fire; the only thing keeping the room from complete silence. She'd dismissed her ladies as soon as her breakfast had been brought just as she'd done every day since the funeral.

She had no wish to see anyone, the only people admitted to her chambers were Edward and her ladies. She hadn't even seen her daughters, she couldn't face them, couldn't see their little group and be reminded of the little one meant to be among them.

She shook her head, feeling a hot tear glide down her right cheek. She could sense her body becoming weaker, just as it had done during her imprisonment at Westminster, her flesh consumed by grief and a lack of food eaten.

A sharp knock came at the door and she sniffed, wiping away her tears as she looked up.
"Enter" She called weakly and tried to smile when Edward entered "Hello, Ned"

"Tu n'as pas besoin de faire semblant de sourire pour moi, Connie" 'You needn't pretend to smile for me, Connie' He told her gently, sitting down on the bed when he reached it and taking her hand "Je n'ai pas besoin de faux sourires, j'ai simplement besoin que vous mangiez et que vous guérissiez, votre petit-déjeuner est presque resté intact ce matin" 'I do not need false smiles, I simply need you to eat and to heal. Your breakfast almost went untouched again this morning' He kissed her knuckles "You must eat, sweetheart"

Shuffling down into the covers slightly, she nodded.

"Mais c'est si difficile...." 'But it is so difficult' She murmured "Je ne veux pas de nourriture, je ne veux pas de soleil, je veux mon bébé!" 'I do not want food, I do not want sunlight, I want my baby!' Edward squeezed her hand.

"I know, my love" He whispered "Would you like me to join you for meals for a while? I may be able to provide some distraction, however little and if it comes to it, I shall feed you myself to keep you well!" He offered a small smile and nodded in return, feeling a small ember in her broken heart flicker.
"Thank you....I would like that"

"I know what else you would like" He said and she tilted her head, wondering what he could possibly mean unless he'd somehow managed to perform a miracle and brought back their son!
"I do not...."

"Neddy?" He called and the door to her chamber opened again, allowing her perfect Prince to dash through, a large smile on his face. His run was strong, his curls a perfect gold in the morning light as he ran to her, stretching out his arms.

"Mama!" He cried and his Father lifted him onto the bed so he could reach Constance who burst into uncontrollable tears, gathering little Edward into her arms and kissing his hair.

"My sweet boy!" She wept, pulling back for a moment to see it was truly her son in her arms and not a mere figment of her imagination. True enough, he was there and cuddled against her, wrapping his arms around her neck.

"Don't cry, Mama" He told her softly "Neddy is here" She nodded against his shoulder, looking to her husband as he smiled.
"I didn't know" She said and he reached out, placing a hand atop one of hers.
"I sent a message to Richard the day little Edmund passed, telling him to bring our boy, he arrived last night"

Constance sniffed, clutching her boy even tighter.
"Thank you...." She whispered "Thank you so much"
"Connie?" Glancing to the door, she saw Anne's head peeking around and smiled, holding out a hand to her as little Edward settled at her side.
"Annie!" She laughed "Come in! Please, I wish to see you"

"I shall speak with Richard" The King decided and kissed his Queen before taking his leave, greeting Anne as he passed "Cousin"
"Your grace" She replied with a curtsy before rushing to Constance's bedside like a child, tears suddenly glistening in her eyes "I'm sorry" She cried, taking her hands "I'm so so sorry, Connie"

"It was not your fault, my dear sister" She replied "and I am glad that you have come to me!"
"How could I not? Travel does not agree with me but we are sisters, it is my duty to go to you when you need!" Constance nodded.
"And mine to go to you"

She looked across the younger woman's face, noticing the added rosiness to her cheeks and the shine to her hair, the joy in her eyes once her tears dried.

"You are with child, aren't you?" She asked and Anne hesitated before hanging her head a little "No! No" Constance protested, feeling herself genuinely smile "I told you the Lord would bless you and he has! You are to have a little son or daughter of Gloucester!"Anne couldn't hide her smile at that and began to giggle.

"It is such a relief to me! I thought perhaps I would not carry children!"
"But now you know you will!" Constance enthused "and I am truly happy for you, my friend" Her son bounced at her side, grinning widely at his Mother and Aunt.

"Me too!" He declared, though they doubted he knew what they spoke of, he was simply happy because they were.