~Fated~

Marie filled Constance's days with joy. Her heart was filled with love for the tiny human she and Ned had created and she knew that she would not hesitate to die for her daughter if needed. Sometimes she could not believe that she was real, that this little angel that rolled around shrieking with laughter, gripping her tiny toes, was a figment of her imagination.

But that could not be, Edward adored her, her Godparents doted on her, George and Dickon were fascinated by her, just as they had been by James!

They often joined Constance in the nursery when Marie was awake like when they were boys, watching her, finding new ways to make her laugh. The elder was more reserved in his affections, determined to appear a man at fifteen, but Dickon took delight in playing with their niece!

Life was happy for Constance, or it would've been, if the Woodvilles ceased to exist at court.

They divided into their own faction, their own court of sorts but none joined them in it, they were hated. The love for Queen Constance was strong, despite her faliure to produce a son and none of the nobility took kindly to those who slighted her but none could touch the Woodvilles, not while they had the King's favour and have it they did.

Elizabeth paraded around almost as if she were Queen, her entourage of extensive kin behind her as she waltzed about court, cradling her swelling belly proudly. She dressed in the most gaudy style most had ever seen, bright silks and satins from foreign continents, shining jewels as big as a fist around her neck.

The demands she made of Edward became ever and evermore lucrative, evermore expensive for the royal treasury, more so than the Queen's expenses had ever been! 

Elizabeth used pleasure to get what she wanted, sex and her undeniable charm. The coaxing gaze of her blue eyes could convince Edward to do her bidding as if she were King and each time she went to his bed, she would emerge with yet more gold for her to spend or a position for her family. The Lords especially resented her for it.

Her Father had been made an Earl and treasurer (all the better for her expensive exploits), her brother Lionel had been made a bishop, her brother Anthony admiral of the royal fleet and her brother John married a Duchess of all people!

There were no such gifts for other families, in particular the Nevilles, who, in a way, had a right to expect such things for their part in helping the Yorks win the throne but they were left to simply exist by the King.

This had enraged them, to no one's surprise, and in January of 1466, Warwick left the court, taking George, and his family with him! Even faithful Dickon departed, going to stay with his Mother at Baynards when she left before he headed North. Constance was sad to lose them, Isabel was her newest lady in waiting, Annie her protégé and the York brothers her allies. Now they were all gone and she was left to the Woodville wolves.

At least, that's how it felt. She was still the Queen, she still wielded more power then they ever would but it did not feel like it. They had Edward on their side and he wielded more power than the Queen, it baffled her they way they were able to manipulate him! It baffled the court too, though none spoke a word, they wouldn't dare, at least to his face.

"At least I have you" Constance murmured as she whisked her daughter from her crib; into her arms. The little baby gurgled happily, gently wrapping her hands into her Mother's dark hair, nuzzling into her neck "I love you, my darling" The Queen whispered, the warm body against her chest a small comfort in the world.

Marie would never leave her, of that she could be sure.

༻᯽༺

20th of March 1465, Winchester Palace....

Edward felt as high as a kite, his heart beating within his chest and his stomach fluttering with a million butterflies! He walked with a new spring in his step, with an air of joy about him that had him smiling at guards and servant, even at the birds that landed on the windows!

He had a son!

An illegitimate one maybe but a son all the same. The screams of Elizabeth's labour still rung in his ears but so did a heavenly crescendo seemingly sent by god. He had a son! He wanted to lean out of the windows and yell! He wanted to tell the city crier!

He wanted to skip all the way to France to brag to Margaret of Anjou, oh he would if he could!
'You tried to destroy my family and look how it carries on growing stronger!' He would say and chuckled to himself, about to enter his chambers until he heard something in the room beside.

His hand paused on the door handle, ears pricking up as he looked at the nursery. He heard sobbing, long heartbroken sobbing....Constance's sobbing.

Oh Constance, why had he not thought of Constance? His wife? The woman he loved? He had been so happy with his little boy that he had not cast his thoughts to her or little Marie.

"Damn me to hell" He muttered under his breath, the joy of just moments ago leaving his body. His Queen needed him and he would go to her.

Opening the nursery door, the weeping was now clear to his ears, scraping, scratching noises that pierced his heart. Constance was on the floor, knelt by their daughter's crib, one hand clinging to the side while the other covered her mouth, trying to muffle her sobs.

She was unsuccessful.

Her skin was red and blotchy, flushed a hot red and her whole body trembled. The breaths she drew were grasping as her lungs struggled for air and her gown was rumpled. Her braid was undone, leaving her hair loose about her shoulders, almost hiding her desolate expression. Almost.

With hesitant steps, Edward crept towards her, his steps soft on the tiled floor, muffled by his own gentleness and his wife's weeping. He knelt down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Surprisingly she did not turn away, she saw him and threw herself into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him.

"I can't do it" She sobbed into his neck "I can't give you a son Edward!" The wretchedness in her voice almost broke his heart, making him clutch her tighter to him and curse the very existence of Elizabeth for a moment.

"You can" He told her fiercely "You can and you will. We will have son's, Con, sons and heirs that shall follow me on my throne and rule this land for centuries to come"

"But I can't do it!" She wept "I'm not able! She...." Her voice stuttered as she choked on a breath "She can so easily have a son, Ned....she has given you a boy....she gave her dead husband two sons during their marriage....and what have I given you?" Tears stung Edward's eyes and he drew away from her, cupping her face with his hands that had begun to tremble too.

"You have given us a son God took too soon and a daughter, mon amor, a beautiful girl we will love until the end of our days. Sons will follow, I have no doubt" Constance only continued to weep and he pressed a messy kiss to her lips before he got to his feet.

"Don't leave!" She begged almost like a child and Edward shook his head, lifting their little Marie (who was mercifully asleep though he could not figure how) from her covers. Kneeling once more, he nestled her between them, coaxing Constance to look at her.

"She's beautiful, see?" He murmured and she nodded, stroking the baby's cheek with one shaking finger "She is perfect, son or not and" Edward took a breath, taking hope in Constance's lightening eyes "And I adore her" A small smile cracked through the cloud of darkness on her face, though it was weak.

Lifting a hand to his cheek, she cradled it like a precious jewel before leaning forward to kiss him just like he had done to her. A shaky breath passed her lips when she drew away and she leant her head against Edward's shoulder.

"I love you" She told him "I love you but I will never love her, nor her son" He nodded "I'm going to stay with your Mother at Baynards Castle, until the court returns to Westminster. I don't want to be near while the court gossip how a bastard is better than my daughter....I can't bear to be around when the Christening happens....I'll return once it is all over"

"Are you sure?" He asked and she nodded.
"I'm sure, write to your Mother, Edward, I want you to explain"

༻᯽༺

April 1465, Baynards....

Arm in arm, Cecily and Constance walked down the sunlit corridors of Baynards Castle, the halls full of memories from her first year on English shores. The Duchess had welcomed the Queen with open arms, as she did the rest of her daughters, bringing them all into her private Palace.

For two weeks Constance lived in peace, unbroken peace with her Mother in law who doted upon her daughter, cuddling little Marie from dawn till dusk. She loved her, never once reproaching the Queen for not providing York with a male heir, no, instead she praised her for giving England a beautiful Princess.

"Sons shall follow" She said, just as Edward had. Oh, how she missed him, each night she would wake hoping to feel his warm body by her side but it never was. Was he with Elizabeth, she would wonder to herself as she watched little Marie sleep in her cot. Was he doting on his bastard son, wishing that Marie was everything he was?

Was he missing her, or did he have Elizabeth to warm his bed?

"Constance? Connie?" Cecily's calming voice snapped her to the present and she realised she had halted, her arm still wound around her Mother's "Are you well dear?"

She nodded, frowning slightly before trumpets in the courtyard below called out and the two rushed to the nearby window, looking down only to see Warwick riding into the courtyard, guards and a hooded man at his side.

"My nephew" Cecily whispered and suddenly dashed away, leaving the Queen to follow. In swirls of blue and lilac silk they flew down the castle's spiral staircases, clutching onto the iron hand rail so they did not fall. The sound of their slippers on the stone echoed in their ears but they did not hear them, all they heard was the whinny of Richard's horses. The image of the hooded man flashed in his mind, who was he?

"Open!" The Duchess barked to the guards that stood by the castle doors and in an instant the great hall was flooded with spring light. Constance put up a hand to shield her eyes and was hit with a blast of chilling air as she ran into the courtyard, clutching Cecily's hand.

"Richard!" She exclaimed, looking up at the Earl who grinned down at her from his horse "Richard what's happened?"

"What's happened" He repeated, voice suave before he reached out and pulled down his captors hood to reveal a dishevelled old man. His grey hair was matted and tangled, his skin a sallow completion that bordered on a sickly yellow. His clothes were torn, his boots worn down. He looked more a beast than a man, albeit a feather thin one and one who's eyes were so wide with terror it could easily stir pity. Cecily gasped, clasping her hands to her mouth as her eyes grew wide "Is I have captured King Henry!"

"King Henry?" Constance asked, gaping at the old man who looked less a King than a street beggar but Warwick only chuckled, ignoring the shock of she and his Aunt.

"He's not King now, Constance, he's our captive and I have a plan for him!" They all remembered a time Henry had been Warwick's captive before and they also remembered a time he'd lost him.

"A plan?" Cecily repeated "Richard for God's sake what are you going to do?" He grinned again, almost like Edward, 'A Neville smile' Constance thought as he swung down from his horse, patting the animal's neck fondly.

"You'll see" He shrugged before his smile faded, suddenly replaced with a look of venom he shot at old Henry "Take old Henry to the dungeons, let's see how he likes a cold cell just like my kin have suffered"

Constance found herself shaking her head, pushing away the guards that moved to take hold of the frightened old man who stared at them like a deer caught in light. She could not allow him to be treated cruelly, her conscious would not permit it and nor would her good nature.

As far as she was aware, Henry wasn't the perpetrator of the troubles of York, even though his mind was perhaps the root of them. He was merely a figurehead the Lancastrians used to follow and to fight on against Edward, whatever misfortune had befallen the Yorkists it was not on his orders! The man who'd seen Richard's brother and Father slain was the Duke of Somerset and he was dead himself!

No, she thought, she would not see Henry punished for the sake of punishment.

"No" Warwick looked at her as if she were insane but she ignored him, turning to the servants who had gathered on the steps and were gawking. Clapping her hands she brought them to attention "Take Henry of Lancaster to one of the guest rooms"

They had not the gall to disobey her and so Henry was escorted inside, wrapping his arms around himself like a child would when he began to shiver.
"What did you do that for, your grace?" Warwick demanded, throwing his reins into the air "He's a traitor!" Constance sighed, watching the frail man retreat into the great hall and out of sight.

She loved Warwick as much as she had her own Father but she would not let his lust for revenge win because of that love.

"He may be our enemy but he is not a bad man, you can see how frightened he is!" Moments later he began to speak again but she held up a hand, silencing him "You can come to my chambers once you have rested, then we shall discuss your plan" And with that, she lifted her skirts and walked determinedly inside, ignoring the servants curtsying to her as she passed.

"She has grown over the years. She has grown bolder" Richard murmured thoughtfully and his royal Aunt smirked.
"Isn't that just what you wanted?"

༻᯽༺

Warwick paced pack and forth before the fire in her chamber, donning fresh clothes with a glass of whiskey in his right hand. Every so often he took a sip of the golden liquid, relishing the burn that trickled down his throat. It helped him think.

He glanced over at the velvet-lined chair behind him where the Queen sat, quietly nursing her seven month old babe from one breast, so innocent so small. How could Edward cast this little Princess aside in favour of his bastard son? Well, not exactly cast aside, Constance had been the one to leave, but Edward had allowed for Elizabeth to take her place at court, letting her parade around as if she were Queen.

'She could never be a Queen' He thought bitterly as Marie finished her feed, Constance manoeuvring her gown back onto her body.
"Do you not have wet nurses to do that?"

Her light chuckled answered him and she adjusted her sleeves, laying her daughter in the cot beside her chair.
"Most of the time....but she feeds less now, soon she shall not need to at all but I like to in an evening. It calms both me and her....when she was born Edward said almost the same as you" She murmured, brushing her daughter's duckling down hair that fluffed adorably on her little head "I do miss him"

"And he will miss you, I'm sure" Warwick replied warmly, leaning against the mantelpiece and letting the back of his body be warmed by the fire's flames "It's only that Woodville woman has ensnared him in her harlot's net" Taking a gulp of whisky, he watched the Queen's reaction to his words. She rested her chin in her hand, a heavy sigh passing her lips.

"I think I hate her" She mumbled and Warwick snorted.
"You think?"

"I don't know" She confessed with a shrug "I do not think I've hated anyone before....not truly. Have you?"
Draining the remaining contents of his glass, Warwick set it on the mantelpiece, slumping down in the chair on the other side of Marie's cot. He hated many people, had hated many many people during his years on earth, far too many to list so he simply answered:

"A few"

Leaning over the side of the crib, he stared down at the peaceful little face of Princess Marie. How innocent babies seemed, how helpless and in need of protecting. He would protect her, he swore to himself, always, especially from the Woodville woman and her brood.

"I heard that Edward's bastard has his christening at Winchester tomorrow?" Constance nodded grimly, reaching for her goblet of wine "Well, I was thinking, why not mar the Woodville whore's perfect day just a little?" She looked at him, arching a curious eyebrow.

"A little?"
"Why not bring in Henry with me? Right into the palace courtyard for all to see?"

The Queen's jaw dropped, it was an insane idea! Perfectly and wonderfully insane! Bring in the old King, one of York's greatest enemies right in the middle of Elizabeth's son's christening? Oh it was daring, more than that, it was ludicrous and completely against her better judgement!

She was taught to turn the other cheek but the idea of taking something from Elizabeth, even just one day, was worth the same as gold to her troubled mind.

"You want to use an old, mad man for our own gain?" She asked, sincere doubt in her voice but Warwick simply smiled.
"What better way is there to crash a christening?"

Constance frowned to herself, she could not deny that the idea thrilled her, excited her beyond words in an almost childish way....but it also worried her and worry led to hesitance. Her upbringing had swayed her away from wickedness, from intentional spite that would turn to sin and would it not be humiliating, for Edward, for Elizabeth.....

She paused, did Elizabeth not deserve her spite? For taking her husband, for taking her place, for disrespecting her, Constance, the Queen of England! Did she not deserve the humiliation too? It was clear Warwick thought so and she wagered that the rest of the court (including herself) would agree.

This woman, this roadside strumpet (as Richard called her) had humiliated her beyond measure! She had taken almost all that was dear from Constance and now, her pride, her position; now she wanted it back.

No longer would she let Edward dally so freely with this Woodville woman and not a word of protest passing her lips, nay, she would let him have his folly but she would protest. She would become the figure the court needed to bring down the rising Woodville star and they would love her for it!

She almost shocked herself with her cruel thoughts but for some reason she did not believe God would be angry with her. No, she was his anointed Queen, he would be pleased if she erased those seeking to replace her! It was a dangerous hand but one she found she must play.

Before her Queenship perhaps she wouldn't have, perhaps she would've retreated to her chapel, merely praying for Elizabeth's comeuppance but, while her piety could never be quelled, she had grown in confidence and with that confidence she would take matters into her own hands. She was no longer a trembling girl and she would make sure Elizabeth knew that.

Besides she had one more card up her sleeve, one no one knew she had to reveal but herself. She would, at the right moment of course.

"I shall do it" She said and Richard grinned again.