The Other Elizabeth *OLD VERSION*

LII. Spring 1463

AN: Sorry for the extremely long wait. Sometimes real life can be very demanding and stressful! Katherine, Elizabeth's half sister, will be henceforth known as 'Katherine Grey' rather than 'Katherine Lewkenor', based on some historical evidence that has come to light. I hope you enjoy this!

LII

Spring 1463

Grafton, Northamptonshire, England

Anne and I are sitting on her bed in our night robes, eating sweet peas in almond sauce as if we were silly young maidens. We left Anthony and Bess in a rather heated chess match in the solar. They are both letting off some of their anger; the former at all his hard work at Alnwick having been reversed, as the Lancastrian army has re-grouped and taken back many castles in the North; the latter at her most recent correspondence with Lord and Lady Ferrers at Groby, who are now even questioning her rights to her jointure manors in Leicestershire. Until this evening, I never did truly realise how ambitious they both were. I saw the way the black and white check of the playing board glimmered in Anthony's pupils; there was a game in his eyes, a game of greed. I noticed the way they flickered, the calculating, hardened look as he placed his King down with an authoritative stamp, and raised eyebrows at Bess, who glowered back. They both cannot lose. It sends shivers down my very spine to think of them, as I sit gossiping with Anne, licking sauce off our fingers.

"How I wish it were possible I were to wed soon," she sighs suddenly.

I smile comfortingly. "Think I that you shall be soon, now Anthony has cultivated some favour at court. But not too soon, Anne, for I should lose a dear friend."

"You would have Bess, and also Mary and little Kate to keep your company."

I take her hands. I am all grown up now, yet balk at the prospect of losing her so quickly. "They are not as lovely as you. And what knave would I lose you to? Do you desire an Earl? A Duke, even?" I tease her, widening my eyes and gasping in mock surprise.

"I would marry the tenth son of a lowly knight; I would not care, so long as they were a good husband to me. Of course, I hope to marry as fits my station."

I blink. "Oh Anne, you are even lovelier! You have not the sin of greed. Indeed, you must never have to say a Hail Mary, for you are seemingly never ungodly." I waggle my eyebrows.

She laughs again. "I am not without sin, no person can be. You are starting to sound like Lionel and Anthony combined!" I blush contritely, for Anthony and I read in our bedchamber at night to one another-poems of epic, stories of old, but they come with Anthony's new love of philosophy and religious matters. They are quite interesting to me from the perspective of reading and telling, but not of a master of literature. Anthony has begun to write his own prose- and to me, lines of the most exquisite French- how ever so much the troubadour!

The thought of France leads me to remark to Anne, "Why, I hear His Grace shall marry a French princess."

"Yes, Princess Bona of Savoy, a relative of the French King."

"Think you the people shall like it, after their enmity of the last Frenchwoman to sit on the consort's throne?" I lower my voice a little. I am always careful to sound respectful of the Anjou woman- my Mother cared for her, God rest her soul, and so did Jacquetta.