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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HER HEAD ACHED. A dull pain resonating just behind her forehead, it seemed to twang even worse every time she sighed, or moved her jaw. An irritating, affronting pain ... but she knew where it had come from. It was the ache of one who had had too much to worry about, lately; a unique, Lancastrian-branded ache (because, of course, Margaret of Anjou had to have her own specific type of pain).
Melissa desperately wanted to lay down, close her eyes; but the opposing army — according to the Duke of Norfolk — was less than an hour away. The last thing she wanted was to be caught unawares when Margaret of Anjou and her mad son showed up on their doorstep, so undressing and going to sleep was out of the question. Here, then, she was, sitting crosslegged on the ground, with Guinevere in front of her, nimble fingers twisting and turning in the girl's golden blonde hair.
"Auntie?" Guin's childish voice echoed throughout the chambers.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Why are there so many guards?"
Melissa blinked, surprised that her niece had noticed the increase of armed men in the castle. Her own children had not; not even Will (who was usually very eagle-eyed when it came to these things). Breathing in deeply, she finally opted to say, "Well, love, they are here for our protection."
"From the Bad Queen?" Guin's head swiveled around, blue eyes wide.
Gently turning her charge's head back around, Melissa hmm'ed in agreement. "Yes; from the Bad Queen and the Mad Prince."
"Will they hurt us?"
The duchess' heart ached at the innocent question. Simultaneously, the pain in her head grew more in intensity.
"Of course not, sweet Guin. I shall never let them hurt a hair upon your head."
