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...
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"DID YOU KNOW?"
Melissa was, as per usual, occupied with one of her poetry books when Anthony approached her, face red in distress.
"I know a lot of things, Anthony. You have to be a little more specific."
"About Elizabeth and the usurper king," he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. "Did you know about this so-called marriage of theirs?"
"It is not so-called, if it actually is." The red-head pointed out calmly, closing her book with a thud.
"Good God! You cannot tell me you actually believe him to be true!?"
"I do believe him to be true." She replied firmly. "They got married. There was a ring, a chaplain, a choir boy, and mother and I as witnesses. It was a true wedding, if a little private for a king."
"He has played her falsely!" Her eldest brother sputtered out. "He has made a fool of her, and us as well! You, of all people, should see that!"
"I do see it, Anthony." Melissa finally stood up, annoyed. "I see a lot of things. And this marriage? It is not false. If you do not trust in Elizabeth or mother, then it would behoove you to trust in me."
He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "And what if you're wrong? What if all he's done is dishonored our sister? What do we do then?"
"I am not wrong. Not about this." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Take a walk, brother. Have some ale. It will calm you down."
Anthony nodded and left shortly thereafter, looking a bit more soothed than he had been previously.
"I should like to know how you calm him down," Richie's annoyed voice came from behind her. "He is frozen to everyone but you and Lizzie."
