- 𝐸𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝐸𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 -
It's the year 1485 and King Richard III has been slain at the battle of Bosworth along with his beloved wife and Queen, Marian of Lancaster. Their eldest daughter, Lisbet, is given little time to...
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Four days later...
"You want to go and see Aunt Elizabeth?" Lisbet cried as she watched her mother pace anxiously around her tent, her dark gown trailing after her. Marian nodded silently and continued to pace, biting her lip slightly as her brow creased with worry. Pushing back the hair that had fallen over her face, she sighed as she tucked a grey strand behind her ear.
"As you know your Aunt has been ill for a long time" she said at last, wringing her hands "well...I had a letter from your sister...Cece, this morning" "Cece has written to you?" Lisbet exclaimed "how?! Our army moves almost every day!"
Marian could not help but smile a little. "An army is never hard to find, ma chérie. Besides, we are rather close to London...it will be easy for Elizabeth to find a way to get messages to us" "Tell me what was said" her daughter pleaded. "Of course...it appears that her illness has worsened...she coughs up blood almost daily and fears she has little time left...I must go to her, my daughter! She helped to raise me...I would not be who I am today without her...I will go to her...and I hope you and Anne will come too"
"Of course I shall come" Lisbet replied quickly, taking Marian's hand "b-but Anne...Anne has never laid eyes on Aunt Elizabeth! Why would she go?" "Because according to Cece, Elizabeth has expressed a desire to see her before she passes" Marian said softly "and I wish for Annie to see her Aunt too" "Even as she is now?" "Aye...If Elizabeth thinks it best then I am prepared to follow her plan"
"So be it" Lisbet murmured "I shall be glad to see Cece after all this time...but I fear for my Aunt...I do not want her to die!" "Nor do I" Marian replied with tears in her eyes "God knows that I do not want to lose her...ma mère la plus chère et ma sœur la plus proche"
༒༒༒
Standing in Marian's tent, the three York women straightened their dark gowns and pulled the hoods of their sable cloaks over their heads.
"Are we really to go to London?" Anne asked in a hushed voice, blowing out the candles that lit the tent one by one until the only light that was in sight was the few days of rising sun that filtered through the heavy fabric.
"Yes, ma chérie" Marian replied quietly "you are to see your aunt Elizabeth and your sister, Cecily, who is now...18 I believe but by the new year she shall be 19!" "Nineteen" Anne whispered "she must be so grown up!" "Well I am 23!" Lisbet exclaimed "am I grown up to you, dearest Annie?" "Aye" her sister replied "you are most grown! As was Mary! Will Meg be?"
At once, Lisbet and Marian cast uneasy glances at one another and the youngest York's question went unanswered, instead she found her mother's hand clutching hers and was guided quietly from the tent with her sister in tow.
"Elizabeth"
Lisbet spun around as her name was called from behind and yet out a small squeak as she spotted Henry standing behind her, peering up at her with a curious look on her face; red hair glinting in the dawn sun.
