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...
^^ melissa's outfit and hairstyle for anthony's wedding ^^
𝙪𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙
fourteen.— you got a friend in me!
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SOFT, SWEEPING MOTIONS on the canvas were all that she was concentrating on. Little swirls of green and blue, blended together with careful dabs of white brought the picture together — or, at least, a small part of it. The final product was intended to be a vision of Arthur and his knights surrounding the Round Table, the king's hand on his famed sword, Excalibur, but Melissa knew it would be a long time before the painting reached that level of completion.
Throwing her gaze down on to the little pots of paint, she barely resisted the urge to marvel at their vibrant colors. Pigments, especially blue and green, were expensive, and she had never before had the luxury of working with them. Edward, upon hearing of her proclivity with artistry, had delivered them to her rooms, with compliments to his "dear sister." She did not know whether he was trying to bribe her or if he genuinely wanted her to have them — whatever the case, Melissa was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Especially since these days, she spent most of her time in her chambers, avoiding her family (except for Richie and Cate) as best as she could. Sometimes, Richard would come to her rescue and sweep her off to the Kingswood for a walk or a ride, but whenever she was not with the duke, she made sure to be in a place her sister and mother weren't, for they were quite furious with her.
Oh, the tantrum Elizabeth had thrown when she had learned of what Melissa had done. It had been one for the history books, a competition to see who could scream the loudest — the queen, or her newborn daughter. Baroness Rivers, their lady mother was more composed, but Melissa could see the dark anger behind her eyes as well. No doubt, a lot of plans had come crumbling down because Cate would not be marrying the Duke of Buckingham just yet.
In the meantime, the betrothals of Anne to Viscount Bourchier and Mary to the Earl Pembroke had been solidified, to many grumblings from courtiers, and Anthony had been contracted to marry Elizabeth de Scales, suo jure Baroness Scales. It was his wedding they would be attending this terce, and it was this event that Melissa was dreading the most.
