Chapter LXXI

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A week after Arthur's death, Charlotte remained in bed, refusing to get up, despite having duties as Regent to perform

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A week after Arthur's death, Charlotte remained in bed, refusing to get up, despite having duties as Regent to perform.

It was morning time when Edmund entered his mother's room, a disappointed look on his face.

Charlotte looked pale and weak and Edmund knew it was because she hadn't eaten in several days.

"It's been a week, Mama. You must get out of bed," he pleaded, but still, Charlotte did not respond. "You should have something to eat, even if it's something small. I can't have you dying on us."

"I should be dead, not them," Charlotte admitted in a whisper, but still, she did not turn to face him. "I always expected to die first. I didn't think I'd have to suffer the pain of losing him, of losing my sons. I can't bear it, Edmund."

"Mama —" Edmund began to say, only to have his mother cut him off.

"You don't understand, Edmund. You and your brothers and sisters love saying you want a love like the one your father and I had, but you don't know the bad parts about it," Charlotte confessed, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks as Edmund came to the realization that she was still mourning his father. "For more than twenty years, I stood by his side. I stood by him against my father, against my family. I chose to let my name be dragged through the mud because I loved him. I endured being called a whore, a slut, a jezebel for years in order to stand by him. Your father risked the alliance with France for me — he could've been hailed as the king to end over a century of aggression, but he decided not to because he would've rather had me beside him on the throne. Because that's how much we loved one another. We would've allowed the world to burn for each other. No matter what, we were together, united. Now he's gone. And my two youngest boys have been taken from me and I can't even blame someone because they were ill. What do I have without them?"

Edmund frowned, beginning to look betrayed as he stared down at his mother. "You...You still have me and my siblings."

"A war will begin soon enough. I know it, Edmund, and I fear it will cost me more children," Charlotte explained. "This war has cost me enough already. I can't bear losing anyone else."

"There will be no war, Mama," Edmund argued in a stern tone, kneeling at his mother's bedside. "I shall make sure of it, but I need your help."

He grabbed her hands, holding them in her own. "Please, Mother. We need you. We all do. Bella is only five, she needs her mother. Nora is inconsolable without Arthur. They have no idea what's going on. They need you most of all."

Charlotte remained silent, staring at her eldest son closely. She knew she had to get out of bed, but it pained her to do so.

"I don't even know who I am without your father," Charlotte confessed in a whisper.

"You are a strong woman who can hold power in her own right," Edmund quipped. "You are an amazing aunt and guardian to your sister's children, and an even better mother to your own. Please, Mama. If not for me, do it for Papa. He wouldn't want you to be like this. He would want you to be strong, not wallow in your grief."

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