The year is 1464.
The War of the Roses rages on; a great showdown between Lancaster and York.
Yet, asleep in her bed, fiery-haired Melissa Woodville dreams of splintered shields, broken swords, and the resounding screams of wounded men in the Battle...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
HIS WIFE'S BEDCHAMBERS smelled of lavender. Richard had noted that from the moment he had first stepped foot in them, but now — as they had spent all of their nights in her rooms — he could confirm the scent to be stronger in the mornings.
It was, in part, due to her ladies' overzealous attempts to keep the chambers smelling nice and clean, especially since neither he nor Melissa had left them since the consummation — over a week ago; but he would not complain. It was a pleasant change from the musk and amber of his own quarters, and his beloved was fond of the smell besides.
Ensconced in their own little world, exploring each other and their love and desire for one another, Richard had to say this past week had been one of the most pleasant in his life. Undoubtedly, Edward and George would tease him to the ends of the earth for "finally becoming a man," but he found that he did not care. The world outside ceased to matter when Melissa was in his arms — and she so often was, sitting on his lap or curling close to him when she slept, as she was doing now.
He was loath to wake her, especially since she looked so calm and peaceful; but it had to be done. Today, they would have to leave her rooms, to say goodbye to Meg, if nothing else, and Melissa was to preside over packing their things, to leave for their estates in the country. Richard knew her to be just as eager to leave court as he was, and counted himself lucky to have married a woman who was not desirous of the glamorous court life so many seemed to covet. Having his wife removed from his arms was the only part of the process he himself disliked.
"Richard?" Thankfully, she seemed to spare him a dilemma, by waking herself up.
"Good morning, sweet love." He murmured, placing a kiss atop her temple.
She snuggled into his arms, further than she already was, and murmured her discontent at being roused. "'Tis too early, Richard."
