Crown of Blood | The White Princess

Rightful Titles

The next morning...

Gently brushing a stray red lock away from her porcelain face, Ned placed Bianca's duchess's circlet onto her head and lay her back down on the bed.

Lisbet stepped forward, straightening the skirts of her friend's purple gown before she went back to her brother and Francis and turned to Lizzie, taking the bundle of cloth that contained Edward and placing him beside his mother, causing a small sob to escape Ned's lips.

"I'm so sorry, Ned...truly I am" Lizzie whispered, placing a hand on her cousin's arm before she left the room and Ned collapsed onto the bed, taking his wife's hand and kissing it as if it would somehow bring her back.

"I just want her to wake up" he murmured "and my little boy too...why can they not just be sleeping?" Walking forward, Francis placed a hand on his brother in law's black velvet clad shoulder, at a loss for words "it's all my fault"

"How can you say that?" Lisbet cried "none of this is your fault"
"But what if it is?" Ned murmured, at last tearing his eyes away from his wife and son; going to stand by the window "W-what if God is punishing my for my doubt in him? I mean, I hate him even more now...how could he be so heartless...oh it really is my fault!" Slumping down to the floor, Ned put his head in his hands and sobs began to shake his body as he grieved.

Covering her mouth with a hand as she began to cry too, Lisbet leant against the side of the bed and gazed at her dead friend and her child, putting her free hand to her belly.
'God? Why have you abandoned us?' She sobbed in her mind 'what have we done to make you frown on us and smile on Tudor?'

༒༒༒

Both dressed in black, Lisbet and Ned clung to one another's hands as they were led by servants to the great hall. They did not know what Tudor wanted and they did not care. All they wanted was for whatever was to come to be over quickly so that they could return to Bianca's bedside and say their final farewells to her and her babe.

"My son...my little son" Ned kept murmuring to himself as he walked and his sister squeezed his hand, struggling to control her own emotions.

Her dearest friend was dead, they had been together for 12 years, always in one another's company. Lisbet could still remember the first time they met and almost wept to think of it as she and her brother walked into the great hall, into the eyes of the Tudor court.

At once, the two drew themselves up to their full heights and tried to walk forward with as much confidence as they could muster, letting go of each other's hands.

Glancing up they saw Lizzie and Henry on their thrones, looking down at them with Maggie standing beside the Queen's throne, Lady Margaret next to her and standing a few feet away, head bowed, was Meg.

Halting at the edge of the steps, the two Yorks swept small bows and curtsies, taking deep breaths as they rose. A few moments passed before a guard stepped forward and passed a roll of parchment to Ned. Slowly, he reached out and took the paper, unfolding it and hanging his head as he read it.