~Return to England~

March 1471....

Wrapped in a cloak of heavy velvet, Constance stared out across the sea from the docks, the calls of men all around her. She couldn't see England but she was sure her country was somewhere, hidden beyond the horizon, not far past the dark blue bobbing waves.

The wind whipped at her hair, pulling at the stray strands flying free from her beaded caul. The icy breeze swirled around her figure, sending chills down the back of her neck, tears to the corners of her eyes. The sky was grey, covered in ash-like clouds.

She hoped it wouldn't rain.

Her gloved hands lay firmly on Marie's shoulders, keeping her close as men, soldiers, ran hither and thither, hauling gleaming pikes onto the ships bobbing on the morning sea. The transaction of gold and men between York and Burgundy had run smoothly, allowing mercenaries to be bought for their banners; ships to carry them.

Oh, how she wished James was with her, she thought as she looked over the harbour. She needed her brother by her side, standing strong to protect her husband and her children, but he was trapped in their childhood home, the prisoner of their older brother until John deemed a day fit to release him.

He would return to her.
She would ensure he returned to her.

"Your grace?"

Constance looked up at the sound of William Hastings' deep voice and smiled at the sight of his red hair blowing in the wind, his new suit of armour gleaming on his body, freshly polished. At forty, he was gaining age in their world but she'd never seen a man more determined to fight and knew she need never doubt his loyalty to their King.

"We will all be home soon, Will" She murmured "We will all be restored to our rightful places"
"That we will" He replied firmly, laying a hand on the hilt of his sword "Ned sent me to escort Princess Marie aboard the royal ship, he wishes for her to see her cabin before we sail"

"Un instant, mon Seigneur!" 'One moment, my Lord!'

Another voice made them both turn to see Burgundian banners fluttering in the wind, held aloft by guards trying to keep up with the young girl rushing along the docks, trying best not to trip over her heavy emerald skirts. Her gown was in the latest style, her neckline low and sporting a deep v along it crafted by soft, black velvet, only visible because the wind pushed her cloak behind her shoulders.

A silver coif captured her hair that was a pleasing shade of gold and when brushed with a certain light became a soft red.

Marie frowned, taking her Mother's hand.

"Who is that, ma Mère?"
Constance didn't need someone to tell her to know who she was. It was her sister's daughter.
"Mary! Ma chère nièce!" 'My dear niece!'
The girl's pink lips split into a charming smile and she hastened her steps, dipping down into a deep curtsy.

"Ma tante dame!" 'My Lady Aunt!' She greeted happily, an relief to her eyes as she rose "J'avais craint que vous ayez mis les voiles et j'ai tellement voulu vous rencontrer!" 'I had feared you had set sail and I did so wish to meet you!'

Constance smiled and took the girls hands in her own, kissing her warmly on her rosy cheeks.

"Cela a été mon souhait pendant de nombreuses années aussi, mais Dieu, semble-t-il, nous a reniés jusqu'à présent" 'That has been my wish for many a year too yet God, it seems, has denied us until now' She said, not one of her words a lie. She'd long wished to meet Isabella's daughter, particularly after her sister's untimely death and she was pleased to see Mary, at fourteen, had blossomed into a beautiful young woman.

'Of course she has' She thought, the girl had Margaret raising her!

"Le présent est ce qui compte, votre grâce" 'The present is what matters, your grace' Mary replied "mais je vous souhaite bonne chance pour votre avenir" 'but I wish you luck for your future' Her blue eyes flicked to the young girl who'd was now staring up at her curiously and she smiled, bobbing another curtsy "Salutations, cousin, j'ai entendu dire que nous partageons un nom?" 'Greetings, cousin, I hear we share a name?'

"C'est ce que nous faisons!" 'We do!' Marie answered, performing a small curtsy of her own "Et le sang de la Maison de Bourbon à travers nos Mères!" 'and blood of the House of Bourbon through our Mothers!' Her cousin clasped her small hands and kissed them both, all the while beaming down at her.

"Votre grâce?" While the cousins spoke, Constance turned, a happy sigh passing her lips as Hélène walked forward with her son, easily passing the Prince into her waiting arms. Edward gurgled, his little fingers instantly curling into his Mother's velvet cloak.

"Merci, Hélène" She murmured, giving the blonde woman a smile "Pour tout ce que vous avez fait pour mon fils, sans vous, il n'aurait pas prospéré" 'For all that you have done for my son, without you he would not have prospered' Hélène gave a serene smile, dipping into a low curtsy.

"Ce fut un honneur" 'It has been an honour' She replied and stepped forward, gently kissing the Queen on the cheek. In any other setting, such an action would be improper but in Bruges, even the strongest rules could be bent "Un honneur qui sera d'autant plus grand qu'il siégera sur le trône d'Angleterre" 'An honour that shall be made all the greater when he sits on England's throne'

That made Constance's smile widen all the more and the two women nodded at one another, an understanding between them only women in their world could have.

"Merci" 'Thank you' She repeated and Hélène nodded again before disappearing into the dock's crowds, pulling the hood of her cloak over her flaxen hair. Hopefully with the gold Constance had bestowed on her the night before, her life would be good, she would certainly pray every night for it!

"Ah! Et est-ce le petit Prince?" 'Ah! Is this the little Prince?' Mary exclaimed, bidding farewell to Marie, as she was guided to the ships by Hastings, and appearing at her Aunt's side. Edward giggled, clapping his hands as Mary cooed and coddled him, stroking a chubby cheek "Tu es un bon garçon!" 'You are a fine boy!'

"Et il fera un bon roi!" And he will make a fine King!' The King of England declared as he strode over, a head and shoulders above every other man, shining like an angel in his golden armour and cloth of gold cloak that fluttered in the wind. Mary instantly curtsied low but Edward only laughed and raised her to her feet, bestowing a kiss to her cheek.

"C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer, nièce, mais j'ai peur que si nous devons nous revoir dans cette vie, ma famille et moi devons naviguer" 'It is a pleasure to meet you, niece, but I'm afraid if we are to ever meet again in this life, my family and I must sail'

Mary nodded her understanding, giving Constance one last beautiful smile before she waved to her guards.
"Je prierai pour votre victoire" 'I will pray for your victory' She said and, just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone and Edward was leading Constance towards the greatest ship of them all, it's great English flag billowing in the wind.

Marie was already aboard, her little laughs being carried on the breeze but still, as she reached the gangplank, Constance hesitated, staring up at the deck where Edward was about to step. Noticing she wasn't at his side, he paused and turned, a soft smile gracing his lips when he caught the look in his wife's eyes.

He remembered that look, it was the same one she'd worn when she'd first seen the ship that would take her to England, before she was a Queen, before he was a King.

Pulling off a metal gauntlet, he gave her a small nod as he held out his hand, asking her to trust him as she'd trusted him then, eleven long years ago. And she did, kissing the crown of their son's head before slipping her hand into his, squeezing tight.
"Together" He whispered and she returned his nod, stepping onto the gangplank.

"Together" She repeated as she took her first steps onto the ship, feeling it rock beneath her, as unsteady as their fate "Always"

Whatever God gave them, whatever his will brought, they would face it together.

༻᯽༺

York, the North of England....

They disembarked at Hull, just into the realm of the wild North of England and as soon as they stepped foot on land, it began to rain. Edward and Marie shared knowing looks as Constance began to grumble, staring angrily at the sky and cursing the wet drops dampening the veil of her headdress.

It was not as bad as when she'd first stepped onto English soil, not a torrent that turned the earth to mud beneath their feet, but it was unending, a steady pour, in no way serving their efforts. She likened them to God's tears, falling to his children in mourning for the blood soon to be shed.

Horses were purchased and the York army moved as soon as was possible, not wanting to waste any of the precious seconds they could lay claim to before Warwick heard of their landing.

It was only a matter of time and then the true fight would begin.

The more time they had, the more men they could gain for their cause and so they rode from the coast to York, the northern stronghold of the country. It was no friend to their House, despite its name, it never had been but they rode for it all the same.

Marie rode on her own pony, her little brother with her. She'd begged and begged to have him by her side as they crossed the sea and her Father had at last relented, unable to deny her sweet doe-eyes or pleading voice. So, the Prince of Wales slept snugly against her chest, held in a silk blanket tied around her.

Even in the rain, she kept her head high, proud to be carrying a future King with her Mother and Father riding either side of her, their men marching behind.
"Perhaps Richard should take him for a while?" Edward once suggested but his daughter only shook her head, sending her Uncle a wide smile over her shoulder.

He grinned back, as did his friends, Will chuckling at her spirit.

"Nay, Father, I desire to keep my brother close, then I will know he's always safe"
"And you don't trust Richard to do that?" Rob teased "He is a knight!"
"And I am the Prince's sister!" Marie replied "But for my Lady Mother and Lord Father, there is none better suited to caring for him"

No one could object to that and so the royals rode and the men marched the thirty six miles to York in two days, ever watching for the sign of the enemy. Fortunately none appeared and when they arrived at the city gates, Edward declared he only intended to claim the Duchy of York, not the crown which was rightfully his.

It was a trick that made his companions smile, the same Henry the fourth had used before he took the crown from his cousin Richard. It had worked then and it worked again for Edward. Within hours they had been given safe passage across the North and two hundred more men had joined their cause.

The next day, their bellies full and bodies rested, they left the city and began the long journey south. It was just as well, for news had reached London of their arrival and the Lancastrians had already called all loyal to them to their banners.

Warwick was on the move with Somerset and it was only a matter of weeks before they would meet the House of York in battle.

Constance dreaded that day.

A week after they landed, the army had stayed on its steady track south, gaining men as they went, though their numbers remained worryingly low.
"Men shall come in time" Edward always said whenever she or his brothers questioned how they meant to face the Lancastrians with numbers so clearly out of their favour but Constance knew they didn't have time.

They all knew they didn't have time.

"Our seventeen hundred to their twenty thousand" She sighed one morning, the latest reports from their scouts still fresh in her mind "It does not bode well, my Lord" Riding beside her and in full armour Edward only shrugged, keeping his gaze firmly on the road ahead.

"Men shall come in time" He answered as he always did and she could only sigh a second time, the day's breeze pulling at her hair as it swept the furred hood of her cloak from her head "The Lord above knows I am his rightful King and shall send aid"

"I pray he does" She replied, trying to take comfort in the steady walk of her horse beneath, and Edward didn't doubt her. There was hardly a moment when they rested when she wasn't in prayer, Marie at her side, and often most of the others were too. He wondered if he should pray more than he did but wagered his energy was better spent on planning for the weeks ahead.

"I do not doubt your strength" She continued and he glanced at her "But neither do I doubt Warwick's nor Somersets and while God knows you to be his rightful King, it is men that win battles, Ned, you know that as well as any! One wrong step and...." Her voice trailed away and he realised with a pained pang that she was crying as one tear slipped down her cheek.

She quickly brushed it away on the back of her hand, letting their eyes meet "I cannot bear to lose you. My heart cannot take it" A soft smile curved his lips.
"It will not have to" He assured her but, in truth, he wasn't certain himself.

"Brother!" Richard suddenly called from behind and Edward turned "Men approaching!"

In an instant, Edward had yelled for his men to halt and his brothers came to his side, the remainder of the exiles surrounding Marie's horse, ready to defend she and the little Prince. Constance gazed out into the distance, fear making her heart beat like a war drum as she saw banners fluttering in the distance, either side of a marching hoard fast approaching the Yorkists.

The pound of boots on earth was clear to her ears and for a moment she began to fear the entire might of Lancaster was about to fall upon them. But there were no Neville banners, no sign of Somerset....

Instinctively, she manoeuvred her steed beside Edward's and he drew his dagger from its leather scabbard, passing it to her with a nod.
"Who is it?" She asked and George sat up in his saddle a little, eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher who approached them.

"Sir William Parr" He grunted at last and Constance's heart jumped a little. That was young Lizzy's husband, she was sure of it....
"His wife served me when I was held at Westminster" She said and Richard hummed beside her.
"He stood against us two years ago....Lancaster could've sent him...."

"Or God" Edward suggested, making his kin turn to him in surprise. He watched the oncoming men with interest, ordering his own to halt when they made to move into their attack formations "We will wait" He declared when George demanded what on earth he was doing and nodded towards the man in armour leading the opposition "They have no more than seven hundred men, George, if they wished to attack outright they would grasp at the element of surprise and as you can see they have not"

The sound of marching men grew ever louder, as did the rushing in Constance's ears and all too soon the two small armies came face to face, merely fifty yards from one another. Edward's dagger trembled in her grip.

"Sir William" She jumped at the sound of his voice, clear and authoritative without a trace of trepidation "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Sir William, a stout man with thin flaxen hair urged his horse forward, trotting the distance between his men and Edward's until he came before the King.

He was certainly how Constance had imagined him, she thought as he approached, a rather dull looking man definitely old enough to be his wife's Father. At least he didn't appear a brute, she thought, Lizzy had never described him as such, instead portraying him kind enough in nature, though a man of few words, and now Constance prayed he would show kindness to her husband in aiding him in their fight.

She held her breath, casting a glance back to where Marie was, almost completely hidden within the circle of men surrounding her and little Edward. Returning to Sir William, they all waited his answer with bated breath. As Richard had said, the last time he was in armour, he'd fought against York, what would he do that morn?

"Your grace, I have come to pledge my men to you"

A collective sigh of relief swept across the army, rank by rank, line by line but no such sigh came from Edward. He merely smiled his blinding smile and inclined his head.

"Well then, Sir William, you are most welcome!" It was a wonder to Constance how he spoke so easily, how he never faltered, always retaining his air of regality, it always had been. Hesitantly, his brothers nodded to the older man and Sir William returned the gesture, looking back to his men for a moment.

"I bring six hundred to your cause, your grace" He announced and Edward's smile widened, triumph gleaming in his eyes as he glanced at Constance.

'I told you men would come' His gaze said and she nodded. It was not nearly enough to heighten their chances against Lancaster but she would not undermine him before his men, before a man who had only just deflected to his side.

"How fares your wife, Sir William?" She chose to ask instead and the knight turned to her, offering a small bow from the saddle "She cared for me during my incarceration and I grew most fond of her"

"She is well, your grace" He replied "And returned to our estates in the North, I hope she served you well?"
"She did, Sir, and when God grants my Lord husband victory, she shall be given a place in my household as one of my ladies" The man smiled a little, once more inclining his head.

"We would be honoured, your grace" And with that, he signalled for his men to join the York army "It is my duty to inform you, your grace" He continued, returning his attention to Edward "Lancaster has left London all but undefended in raising its banners to face you, the city is yours for the taking"

Edward arched a fair eyebrow, the words the sweetest melody to his ears.
"Then take it we shall, Sir"

༻᯽༺

11th of April 1471, London....

From that day forth, God seemed to smile upon them. 'Men shall come in time' Edward had told her and come they did, flocking to their rightful King's side. Every town they passed, every village and hamlet, their numbers were swelled, adding power as well as hope to their cause. Soon just above two thousand became four thousand and four thousand became ten.

Three thousand men joined them at Leister, a Godsend if ever there was one! Thirteen thousand men they had by the time the capital was in view and hope was fully ignited in all of their hearts; determination.

Constance had forgotten what it felt like to be loved, adored by masses who knew little more of her than her name, to have the masses chant her name as if a prayer, to have strangers stare at her as if she were an angel.

She remembered when the gates of London opened to Edward.

There was no fuss, no waiting, no resistance when the York army came before the city and Edward demanded entry. It was almost too easy, too simple and Constance was hesitant at first. London was undefended by the enemy, all the Lancastrian soldiers had vanished into thin air. She suspected it was Somerset's doing, Warwick wouldn't be so foolish.

It was an attempt to bolster enemy numbers but all it really did was leave England's greatest strategic prize for the taking and take it the Yorks did.

The mayor welcomed him as their rightful King and word spread of the Yorkist's arrival like wildfire, spreading from house to house within an hour so the entire city poured out onto the streets!

Constance was sure the crowd's roaring would be able to be heard from Scotland for their cheering almost deafened her. They called for Edward, for her, for Marie and the young Prince, for Richard and even George! The troops marching at their backs were welcomed as heroes, mugs of ale and the best food given to them as they passed inns.

All clamoured for the attention of the King and Queen, waving until their arms were in danger of dropping off just to gain a smile or kind word! Both grinned from ear to ear and Constance's heart swelled with love as she watched Edward bask in the adoration thrown his way. He was in his element, the Lord had made him to be praised, to be loved.

They didn't ride towards Westminster Palace, no, that was where Richard and George took their men to capture King Henry and exterminate the last of the Lancastrian guard, the King and Queen rode for the Tower. That was another thing that confirmed it was not Warwick who led the Lancastrian side, he would never leave the old man virtually unattended!

"The Tower is where you and the children shall be safest" Edward declared as he smiled at the people by the roadside "until my battles are fought! We shall fortify it for a siege and you will be secure"
"When will you have to go?" She asked as they steered their horses around a corner into another lane packed full with eager onlookers.

Edward only smiled. To anyone watching, it would look as if they were discussing the pleasant weather, not how long it was until blood would soak English soil.

"In a day or two" He answered "As soon as Lancaster hears we have taken London, they will turn back and I must defeat Warwick before Marguerite lands" That could be any day now and Marguerite could not be allowed to join forces with her allies, if that happened, even the men they'd gained across the country would not be enough for victory.

By nightfall, five thousand more men had joined their cause and Edward was declared King once more.

༻᯽༺

The Tower of London....

Peering out of the window of her and Edward's bedchamber, Constance wound the onyx beads of her rosary around her fingers, staring at the courtyard below. She relished the return of her royal garments, brought from Westminster that evening, the familiar luxury helping her to feel more secure.

After washing the dirt of the road and day away, she'd put on a gown of purple silk beneath a robe of black velvet embellished with cloth of silver. It hung heavy on her frame and she relished the weight, just as she relished the coolness of the rosary beads on her skin. They helped to convince her of her reality.

Through the diamond panes of glass, the torches lighting the darkness, danced in the night, their flames flickering. Even behind the fortress's thick walls, she could hear the celebration in London's streets, smell the smoke of the bonfires the citizens had lit. Not one soul was asleep, how could they be when ale flowed in the streets, splashing all around as people danced!

Lancastrian banners lay strewn on the courtyard cobblestones, murrey and blue York ones hanging in their place. 'Just as it should be' Constance thought as she watched soldiers lift her husband's banner into place, the Sunne in splendour a magnificent sight and a great relief.

Six months she'd waited to see it rise again.

Movement on the fortress steps turned her attention away from the banners and she watched as her husband strode to the courtyard, halting at the bottom of the stone steps. Moments later, the sound of hooves filled the air and a group of horses rode into the Tower.

Her breath caught in her throat.
George and Richard had returned with King Henry.

Gathering the skirt of her gown, she quickly made for the courtyard, deciding she would see to the children once she'd seen to the deposed King. In a way, he was a child, she thought, or at least, that was how she remembered him - small, frightened, dependant on others. He may be a useless ruler but he was not a bad man and her heart stung with pity as she strode out into the chilly night air to her husband's side.

Richard and George were already dismounting with Rob, Francis and John but the man they'd brought made no effort to move from his saddle. Henry's skeletal frame was dwarfed by the crimson robe he wore, almost like one of Marie's dolls when she dressed them in a gown too big. His grey hair was thin, his skin sallow, his eyes sunken into his skull and his thin hands, trembling from cold, wrapped around a rosary.

Perhaps, one day, when Edward was secure she could arrange to have him housed at a monastery, Constance wondered, watching as John finally helped the old man dismount, a guilty gleam to his gaze. Henry walked hunched over and needed no directing as he quietly padded from the horses to where Edward and Constance stood.

He walked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and, even if he did not, he still bore the burden of a crown not meant for him. Perhaps he'd found it a relief when the Yorkists came for him, perhaps to know he'd no longer be the puppet for powerful men brought calm to his withered soul?

He'd not been made to rule, to fight, to kill to secure his place, he'd been made for peace and that was perhaps the one thing no King could survive being made for in their cruel world.

"He came willingly, Ned" Richard murmured, almost a request for him to be kind, and Edward nodded, never tearing his eyes from the pitiful figure.

"Cousin" He greeted, his tone surprisingly soft and Henry looked up, mustering a small smile on his chapped lips. It was as if he'd never smiled his entire life.

"I am glad I am in your care, cousin, for I know I shall be safe"

Tears pricked Constance's eyes, though she tried to blink them back and nodded, stepping a little closer so Henry's attention turned to her.
"Of course" She said warmly "you shall be afforded every comfort and protection"

His smile widened a little, though his sunken eyes were sad and they flicked to the rosary she held.
"Perhaps one day, we may pray together?" He suggested and she nodded again with a smile of her own, reaching out to clasp his hands. They felt thinner than winter twigs.
"I would like that"

"This way" Richard instructed and Henry turned to him, making ready to follow.
"Thank you" He said quietly and not a soul present could deny the pity gnawing at their hearts.