The White Queen -The White Queen

Fotheringhay Castle, Fotheringhay, Norwich, England, Summer 1466

"In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti, amen," the voice of the priest echoed through the walls of Fotheringhay's private chapel.

And just like that, my cousins Mary of Burgundy and Catherine Woodville were now the duchesses of Buckingham and Cork. Little Mary took the hand of her pride for young husband the Duke, who is obviously very happy to show off to the entire court that he had married into Europe's royalty. The young Duke of Cork, who has never won for ceremonies, was more upset about the pomp and ceremony than anything else. 

"Look at my little sister Catherine with her sulky new husband the duke," Elizabeth giggles as the little girl enthusiastically took her new husband's hand and nudged him in the shoulder, making him tear up a bit.

"Who would've thought so happy and occasion would make so many people so miserable?" Jacquetta pondered in a voice that was mock evil causing myself and her two daughters to laugh. "Lord Warwick isn't even here."

"So much the better," Jackie brushes it off.

The first person to greet us at the doors of the small chapel is Edward's brother Richard I looked down happily upon the young man, he will be 14 in November. He still has the same dark brown eyes and black unruly hair that I can never come into place no matter how hard I try. He looks down at the children that Elizabeth, Jackie, and I have in our arms and tell us genuinely, "Congratulations Your Graces, on your new York prince and your first York prince. And congratulations to you too Lady Norfolk on your beautiful Howard daughter."

"Why thank you Richard," Elizabeth tells him as she looks down at her gorgeous blonde haired, blue eyed daughter.

"She is not a boy though," Cecily Neville says critically, as though it was any of her business. "Not an heir."

"Oh, I shall have many more Duchess Cecily," Elizabeth rebukes her, "and the next one shall be a boy."

Suddenly a muffled battle cry rang out through the chapel walls. Everybody looks at each other. No one is expecting anybody to arrive today and so what can it be. My mind immediately goes to the worst. Margaret of unusual could've made a surprise landing with an army. Or even worse, it could be news that she has formally convinced the French to go on her side.

"Edward, what is it?" I ask my husband, though I know he cannot tell me.

Everybody floods out of the chapel as if we are a damn that has broken  off the side of a cliff. I make my way behind my husband and his brothers Edmond, George, and Richard, our children and Margaret Beaufort and her husband Jasper and their own kids following close behind me. Jackie is beside me with her mother and Elizabeth is on my other side. When we make our way out into the main courtyard of the palace we are faced with the site of the Earl of Warwick along with a guard. 

They are keeping track of a mangled man in the center of the courtyard whose hands are tied behind his back. He has a long beard and his face is old and rundown that I cannot possibly think why this man will be of any use to us. His eyes dart around nervously and emptily and I can tell that he is not in his right mind. 

That's when it hits me. I know exactly who this man is. However I am not the first to say it, Margaret is. "King Henry?" She utters disbelievingly, her hand saddled over her growing belly which now holds her fifth child. 

"My Lord, our one time King Henry, and now our prisoner! He was roaming the fields of Northumberland, but I have ridden out and captured him!" Warwick yells.

"And you brought him in!" Edward announces triumphantly.

The next thing happens in a blur. Young Richard, turns around, pulls out his sword, and runs straight for the old, witless, King Henry. "Now vengeance for our father!" He shouts. It takes the combined force of his brother George, my uncle Richard, my cousins Anthony and John, and my own husband to hold him back.