~Summer Fates of Bitter Joy~

Constance took great joy in the court celebrations that filled the long summer days of heat and smiles. It meant constant opportunities to be by Edward's side and that made both of them happy; to present a United front that was true to the court, finding that as her pregnancy progressed, the King became like a worried Mother in some ways!

Whenever they would walk, it was with his arm firmly around her waist, supporting her and the babe, constantly telling her that she could lean upon him if she had need to. Every minute he would ask after her health, searching for any signs of illness or tiredness in her face and at meals he took to feeding her morsels of food, making sure that she was eating plenty for herself and their child.

The day of the court hawking was one of brightly coloured splendour, with the sun shining down on the fields of emerald green surrounding the white and gold tent where tables were laid.

Silver plates piled with food topped them and the court ate merrily as numbers of their ranks stepped out for the merry competition. Hawks circled in the clear, blue sky and whistles from their owners pierced the air, calling them down from great heights.

The Queen, King and their closest courtiers sat at a table at the front of the tent, watching their friends with glee and excitement. Dickon was currently against one of the Woodville boys, both watching their hawks circle around one another before they tried to coax them back down. Unfortunately for the young Duke, his bird decided to settle itself in a tree branch while his rival's swooped elegantly down onto the Woodvilles's arm.

A round of applause filled the air and Constance heard William Hastings chuckle beside her, his laugh a deep rumble from his broad chest.

"Poor Dickon" He exclaimed and Edward joined his laughter, despite sending a sympathetic look in his little brother's direction "Still the Woodville will have a fight on his hands if he wishes to win against George! He has none of Dickon's chivalry and he doesn't like to lose!"

"Nor do you, husband!" Katherine countered from his side, pressing a fond kiss to his cheek which Will grinned at.

"Indeed, and Woodville's name is John" Edward said with a grin "Really, Will, I don't know why you're so against them!"
Will simply shrugged, biting into a chicken leg.
"They irritate me" He mumbled and Constance could not help but secretly agree.

There was something unspeakably irritating about the Woodville clan that had invaded court. While they were the epitome of manners and grace, their sense of airs and grandeur could serve to do nothing but annoy, as did their simpering manner towards royals, especially the King.

"How do you know his name?" She asked, taking a short sip of wine while Edward simply glanced at her with a smile.

"I have been getting to know them all" He said airily and she swallowed the sweet liquid, turning to Will who merely shook his head, placing his hand atop hers.

It was no unusual thing for a King to know his nobles but there was something in the way Edward knew the Woodvilles that unnerved her. He favoured them for a reason she knew not while it seemed everyone else did. Of course she could guess but that rout only led her down the path to a bitter resentment towards the eldest beauty that she did not know was deserving. 

Still, her name was on the courtier's lips, Elizabeth Woodville....Elizabeth Woodville....Elizabeth Woodville....

And there could only be a few reasons for that but that day she refused to think on it.

Soon George took to the field, his effortlessly charming smile spreading across his lips to greet the applause of the courtiers at his appearance. Constance clapped the loudest, wishing for nothing more than for her brother to beat this John Woodville with all that he had! That would at least give her a little satisfaction.

Collecting the beautiful eagle he owned from a page, George flashed another confident smile to the crowds and let the bird fly alongside John's. Constance watched with keen eyes, keeping her gaze trained on the eagle and the constant whistles George sent out to coax him back. His loud laugh filled the air when his bird obeyed and landed on his arm, much to the thrill of the court.

His kin leapt to their feet, the first of which was the Queen, applauding loudly and smiling with all the joy she felt.

"Well done George!" Edward called from beside her, grinning as his brother swaggered in in usual manner towards the tent, the victorious bird on his arm.
"Well done, Thunder" He murmured, plucking a sliver of ham from the King's plate and grinning when the eagle took it eagerly into his beak "Now, what shall I have as my prize?" Edward chuckled nodding his head as he sat back down.

"As your prize I shall confer upon you the title....Earl of Richmond!"
"Richmond?" Will repeated, almost amused "Lady Margaret Beaufort wont be happy, that's her son's title"

"And he is nephew to old King Henry" Edward sighed "so I must strip it from him" a sudden pall seemed to be cast over the proceedings but George did not seem to notice and grinned.

"I was hoping for your crown!" He teased before strolling easily away, passing on the way two individuals Constance felt the urge to sigh at. Lady Rivers and Elizabeth Woodville.

They approached the royal table without hesitation, walking forward straight to the King, curtsying before speaking without waiting for instruction as was expected when in the presence of royalty.
"Your grace, we have a proposition for you"

"And I'm leaving" Will murmured, standing from his seat to go in search of more wine and taking Katherine with him, only narrowly escaping Constance's pleading look for them to stay.

"A proposition, Lady Rivers?" Edward repeated despite his eyes being trained upon her beautiful daughter who gazed back at him with her great blue eyes. He sounded almost amused but Constance could tell that he would listen to the Woodvilles.

"Indeed" Lady Rivers continued, clasping her hands together "We are here to offer my cousin, Charles of Burgundy as a potential husband for your sister, Princess Margaret"

The Queen's eyes blew wide at that, with shock and with horror. Earlier that year her sister Isabella had passed away of a wasting sickness she'd suffered for months. Constance had had masses said for her when she was ill, sent the best physicians she could find to Burgundy but it was no use and her sister died.

It hadn't been six months since she entered her grave, not half a year since she took her last breath. Her kin was in mourning, her husband was in mourning and yet Lady Rivers had the gall to try and sell his hand - in the face of his dead wife's sister no less!

By God, this woman was bold and directly crossing her in her proposal for it was known at court by then that the marriage of Margaret was to go to France!
"My sister is not yet cold in her grave yet you seek to replace her?" She asked cooly and Lady Rivers looked at her with a wide smile, so bright it was almost blinding.

"I mean no offence, your grace, but Burgundy needs a Duchess, and England needs an ally"
"We can find an ally in France, as we have planned, Lady Rivers. It is all but settled with the House of Savoy, kin to the Queen of France"" Constance replied, imitating Lady Rivers' airy tone so well that Edward placed a hand over hers.

"Not quite, my love, and what King would I be if I did not listen to the advice of others" He told her before looking to the Woodvilles again, or rather, Elizabeth, that golden beauty "I shall consider it" He continued and Constance almost gasped, her breath catching in her throat.

"You agree?"
"I neither agree nor disagree"
She shook her head, pulling her hand swiftly from Edward's grasp. It was sacrilege to consider such an offer, an insult to Isabella, to her and to God himself.

"I will not be the instrument of my sister's replacement" She said firmly but Edward didn't reply,
watching with satisfaction as the two Woodville women curtsied again.

"Is there anything you need, Lady Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth looked at him again, her eyes wide with a feigned innocence that she cast demurely to the ground.

"I am satisfied, Ed....your grace" Her voice was smooth, suave "More than satisfied" The King nodded, a pleased smile on his face.
"Come, Elizabeth" Lady Rivers said, escorting her daughter away while Edward watched. Constance took up her goblet again, draining its contents before she spoke.

"She almost called you Edward" She remarked "I wonder how that came about"

"The Woodvilles are a useful asset, Connie" Edward sighed, gently kissing her cheek but she shrugged him away in what was her first ever rejection of him. She did not know why but his closeness with the Woodvilles unnerved her, more than she could say.

Still, her husband did not notice, he was simply stung by her coldness.
"They are Lancastrian" She murmured, recalling the whispers of the court "her dead husband was, I know as much by now"

"They have changed sides"
"How do you know?"

Blue eyes sharply met determined green and the couple stared at one another, the warm summer air suddenly turning cold "You should know by now that not all who say they are loyal are, Edward. Be careful" Pulling her hand from his grip, she stood from her seat "Excuse me, my Lord, I'm going to find Richard"

"Connie! Connie! Connie!" Constance forced herself to smile as young Annie ran towards her, curtsying prettily, if not a little wobbly on her small legs!
"Ah, my dearest friend" She exclaimed, welcoming the girl into her embrace before smiling at her Father who followed close behind "Richard"

"Constance" Warwick greeted, leaning forward to kiss her cheek "I see you are as unnerved by these newcomers as I am?" She nodded, glad to finally find a champion.
"I think we should, my friend, they are ambitious"

"Aren't we all" George murmured, coming to join them.

༻᯽༺

July 1464, Westminster....

Elizabeth Woodville, Elizabeth Woodville, Elizabeth Woodville.

The name echoed constantly in her ears like a curse, taunting her, torturing her. She sat alone in her chambers, gently brushing a hand over her golden gown and feeling the babe inside kick.

This baby had seemed her only comfort during the past few weeks, ever since the hawking event and the court returned to Westminster in an air of golden glory - a false facade to hide the unease that thrummed between the King and Queen.

Ever since that sunny day, the courtiers had cast knowing looks in the Queen's direction. They had seen the Woodvilles new found power, they way Edward had directly addressed the beautiful Elizabeth, heard her answer that told more than speaking the truth would.

They all knew now, they all knew.
Elizabeth Woodville was the King's mistress.

Or at least that was what was said and in the shadow of the sudden rise in Woodville influence, what other explanation could there be? Constance had not talked of it to Edward, she had carried on the facade that all was right between them. She laughed with him at dinners, slept in his bed at night with his arms around her, talked to him in the usual easy manner that had been maintained since the day they met.

She had tried to not to let the rumours that circulated around the court bother her, to rest easy upon her shoulders as she had told herself they would. But they didn't and she knew she could no longer stay silent.

Before then, Edward had only been with whores, women whom she never saw and knew did not matter to him but this, this was different. As she had always thought throughout their four years of marriage, to not see was to not feel but now, she did see, she found she did feel.

It was the day she was to go into confinement, a month long stay in a dark room where she would await in a cloud of incense and prayer until her child was born just as she'd done with James. Her ladies would be with her but no one else, no men, no Edward and with her absence, she knew that the rumours surrounding the King and Elizabeth Woodville would only grow stronger until they materialised before her.

"Mon amor!" Edward's enthusiastic voice broke her from her thoughts and she looked up to see him strolling towards where she sat by the fire. She did not smile as she usually did but he knelt by her chair all the same, taking the hand that was not on her belly and kissing it gently "I cannot bear to lose you, Connie"

"This woman" She murmured "The one they call Elizabeth, Elizabeth Woodville? Her name is all around the court" Edward's breath hitched at that and she sighed "Is she your mistress?"

He gulped a little, letting her hand slip away from his as he looked up at her with those great blue eyes of his.
He nodded and so did she. No anger brewed within her, no rage that threatened to burst out of her in a million angry flames. There was only sadness, sadness that her thoughts, the rumours had been confirmed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was barely a whisper, plagued with a hurt she did not even know she had felt until that moment "Do you not love me anymore?"

"That's not it, Connie...."
She grimaced.
"Don't Connie me....not now, Edward" 
He sighed, bowing his head a little.
"It's not love, it's lust" He said but that only seemed to make her sadder.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked again "I was never against you taking a mistress, I knew it would happen one day, it's not that that hurts, it's that you didn't tell me, save me the humiliation of being the only one in court who did not have it all but confirmed to them!"

"I'm sorry" He murmured. It was all that he said, all that he could say and she knew that. She had known he would not be faithful to her, lie at her feet like a loyal hound but why did it have to be her? Why did it have to be Elizabeth? She didn't know "Do not let us part on angry words" He continued after a moment and she nodded, letting him take her hand again.

She loved him, she couldn't help it and at the gate of the month where they would not see one another, she could not let them part on sadness and bitterness. Guiding their joined hands to their belly, she nodded.

"Our son is strong" She told him and could see the evident relief that filled his handsome face "He will be strong and he will be King" Edward smiled, pressing his ear to her gown to hear their child inside.

"My Edward" He murmured happily "My boy" he looked up to Constance, placing his free hand to her cheek "And my wife, my beloved wife who none can replace, not now, not ever" She could not deny the soft smile that graced her lips "I love you, Connie, and I always will"

"And I will always love you, Ned"
She leant into him, kissing him gently on the lips until she felt love fill her entirely and she believed his words.
She was Queen and none could replace her.

"Come" He whispered, squeezing her hand as he raised her from her seat "Let us get you to your rooms"
"My confinement, mon amor" She corrected, leaning her head on his shoulder and smiling fully when his arm encircled her waist; hand resting gently on her belly "And when I emerge I shall have our baby in my arms"

"Our arms" He chuckled "I hope you shall let me hold our son too!" Constance grinned at him, nodding.
"Of course! He shall be ours Ned, our little Prince!" A note of glee filled her voice that did not dampen even as they approached her confinement chambers and she saw the candlelit darkness inside.

"Cosy" Edward murmured when they stepped inside and she elbowed him with a chuckle, staring around the chamber that would be where she lay for the next month, where she would give birth to England's hope. The place where the York line would be secured.

For all its darkness, lit by torches, it did not seem a complete hell, bright tapestries lined the wall, scenes from the bible that were believed would ward away evil spirits that could harm the babe. A large bed lay against one wall, with heavy embroidered curtains and beautiful silk covers that were soft to the touch.

She wished Edward could stay with her, to keep their baby safe if not to keep him away from the Woodville woman. She would miss him more than life itself.

Heavy furs lay upon the floor, covering the cold stone and muffling their footsteps. Every effort was taken to ensure that no coldness could touch the Queen, nor no light which explained the heavy bolts across the shutters. One by one, her ladies filtered into the room, each wearing gowns of orange silk, the colour of fertility, a combination of yellow for happiness and red for love. Another superstition but one Constance took comfort in.

"It is time for me to leave you, mon amor" Edward whispered, despite tightening his hold on her a little and she turned around, suddenly consumed with the need to have him with her.
"Don't go" She pleaded, gazing up into his handsome face "Dont go my love"

"I have to" He told her with a gentle smile, taking her hands one by one to kiss them "But I will see you once our little Edward is born and then, we will be together"
"With her"

"Not with her" He replied firmly "We shall be our little family, ma chériel Connie, toi, moi et notre petit fils que j'aimerai jusqu'à la fin des temps. Nous sommes comme un, Con, et personne ne peut nous l'enlever, à nous ou à vous" 'you, me and our little son whom I shall love to the end of time. We are as one, Con, and no one can take that away from us or you'

"Do you promise?"
"I promise" He replied and she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
"Then I believe you"

༻᯽༺

Confinement was intended to be a peaceful time, a time where Mother and baby could blossom under the care of those closest to them while they prepared for the birth.

Women were meant to lay in bed, resting, reading, sewing to set her mind at ease but Constance found her time of Royal Confinement to be anything but peaceful, unlike her first. She quickly grew to hate the four walls that trapped her in the luxurious prison where her son would be born.

Those bright tapestries, the embroidered covers of the bed, the bolted shutters that refused entrance to even a ray of light, oh how she hated them. They barred her from the world outside, placing her within a gilded cage where custom and superstition were her jailers.
But they were not her greatest enemies.

No, those positions were reserved for the Woodvilles, she was sure of it.

Her time alone gave her time not to rest, but let her worst thoughts fester, corroding her soul until she was sure she had become a creature of void of all but paranoia that consumed her whole.

And it was not as if those around her could dismiss her fears, the confirmation of them arrived in the looks they carried whenever they returned to the dark confinement chamber which only cast the Queen further into her boiling pot of suspicion and bitterness.

No matter how much she prayed she could not cast the dark thoughts from her mind.