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...
forty-seven.— ever so sweet is that fall from grace!
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EDWARD WAS QUITE serious when he said Elizabeth would leave the morning after the command for her household to pack had been given. He took no pleasure at shipping his wife off, but he made sure it was done; ordered the servants to gather only the necessities posthaste, sent word of the queen's arrival to the castellan at the Palace of Placentia, had the princesses (and their half-brothers) bid their mother a farewell, and arranged for a carriage to be prepared for the journey ahead. He oversaw all of this quite clinically, the emotionless facade a stark contrast to the merry, bright countenance he usually wore.
Predictably, that did not go unnoticed by the keen, overeager courtiers who were desperate for any gossip or news concerning the dramatic split of the royal couple. It was all anyone would talk about, be it during feasts, or in secluded corners in the hallways, overshadowing everything else in the broad sphere that was the Palace of Westminster. None of the princes could walk anywhere without being inundated by curious looks and whispers, and of course, their wives were not exempt either.
Princess Isabel, who had permanently adopted the "ice queen" facade she was so famous for, only left her rooms if all of her ladies were present. Surrounded by them, she felt safe enough to bring out her children, little Princess Anne and her younger brother, one year old Prince Arthur. The latter — who had been born a sickly babe, and with a weak heart — had a slightly stronger constitution now, and although he was still prone to light coughs and fevers, his mother felt like she could bring him out if he was bundled up warmly enough.
Princess Melissa, who had all but disappeared ever since her son had been struck, had only recently begun to venture out to feasts again, her duty as a royal consort regretfully eclipsing her need to sit by the injured young prince's bedside. That did not stop her from having stern words with his attendants, however; giving them a stern warning, to immediately summon her if he needed anything.
