~𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖞𝖆𝖑 𝖎𝖘 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌~
Born the youngest daughter of Charles I, Duke of Bourbon, Constance of Bourbon grows up amidst comfort and splendour on her powerful family's estates in France. A shy child, she prefers her...
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~Return to England~
March 1471....
Wrapped in a cloak of heavy velvet, Constance stared out across the sea from the docks, the calls of men all around her. She couldn't see England but she was sure her country was somewhere, hidden beyond the horizon, not far past the dark blue bobbing waves.
The wind whipped at her hair, pulling at the stray strands flying free from her beaded caul. The icy breeze swirled around her figure, sending chills down the back of her neck, tears to the corners of her eyes. The sky was grey, covered in ash-like clouds.
She hoped it wouldn't rain.
Her gloved hands lay firmly on Marie's shoulders, keeping her close as men, soldiers, ran hither and thither, hauling gleaming pikes onto the ships bobbing on the morning sea. The transaction of gold and men between York and Burgundy had run smoothly, allowing mercenaries to be bought for their banners; ships to carry them.
Oh, how she wished James was with her, she thought as she looked over the harbour. She needed her brother by her side, standing strong to protect her husband and her children, but he was trapped in their childhood home, the prisoner of their older brother until John deemed a day fit to release him.
He would return to her. She would ensure he returned to her.
"Your grace?"
Constance looked up at the sound of William Hastings' deep voice and smiled at the sight of his red hair blowing in the wind, his new suit of armour gleaming on his body, freshly polished. At forty, he was gaining age in their world but she'd never seen a man more determined to fight and knew she need never doubt his loyalty to their King.
"We will all be home soon, Will" She murmured "We will all be restored to our rightful places" "That we will" He replied firmly, laying a hand on the hilt of his sword "Ned sent me to escort Princess Marie aboard the royal ship, he wishes for her to see her cabin before we sail"
"Un instant, mon Seigneur!" 'One moment, my Lord!'
Another voice made them both turn to see Burgundian banners fluttering in the wind, held aloft by guards trying to keep up with the young girl rushing along the docks, trying best not to trip over her heavy emerald skirts. Her gown was in the latest style, her neckline low and sporting a deep v along it crafted by soft, black velvet, only visible because the wind pushed her cloak behind her shoulders.
A silver coif captured her hair that was a pleasing shade of gold and when brushed with a certain light became a soft red.
Marie frowned, taking her Mother's hand.
"Who is that, ma Mère?" Constance didn't need someone to tell her to know who she was. It was her sister's daughter. "Mary! Ma chère nièce!" 'My dear niece!' The girl's pink lips split into a charming smile and she hastened her steps, dipping down into a deep curtsy.
