In which Nora of Lancaster continues to fight for her family and their rightful place on the throne of England, despite all that she has lost already.
THE WHITE PRINCESS
BOOK TWO IN THE COUSIN'S WAR SERIES
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It was nighttime. Lizbeth walked through the dimly lit hallways of Westminster, wearing only a nightgown.
She frowned, squinting her eyes to see a throne at the end of the dark hallway. She slowly walked closer, her eyes widening at the sight of Henry sitting upon the throne.
"Henry?" She called out, a confused look on her face, "What..."
Lizbeth suddenly gasped, looking down to see a stream of blood moving toward her. She continued to walk forward, however, walking right through the river of blood.
She walked past the bodies around her, ones that happened to belong to her dead brothers and sisters.
She continued to walk toward Henry, despite the fact that he was wearing her brother's crown and the bodies of her siblings and her Uncle Richard laid on the ground near his throne.
She suddenly froze, however, when she heard someone calling out to her from behind. It was a mere whisper, but she could still hear the person and immediately knew who it was.
"Lizbeth...Lizbeth..." He called out to her in a whisper, causing Lizbeth to gasp as she whipped herself around to face her father.
He wore his crown and Arthur stood to his right while Thomas stood to his left.
"Father?" She whispered softly, tears beginning to form in her eyes.
"I'm ashamed of you," Edward confessed as he shook his head, "Marrying the man who is the reason your brothers and sister are dead? How could you do such a thing? How could you betray your family like that? You're a disgrace."
"Father—" Lizbeth began to cry out.
"What happened to family above all?" Edward practically shouted at her, "Did none of it matter!"
"I'm sorry—"
"Lizbeth," A voice called out, causing Lizbeth to turn to see Henry standing behind her alongside Harry, Arthur, and Kathy.
"Henry," She whispered softly, glancing between her husband and children, and her father and brothers.
"Choose," Edward insisted in a calm tone, "You must choose, Lizbeth."
"You're dead. Why would I choose a family that's already dead?" Lizbeth asked her father in a whisper.
"I'm not," A voice suddenly spoke up, causing Lizbeth to turn again to see George standing before her as well, "They took my son. You let Lady Margaret kill my son. Would you let them kill me as well?"
"Of course not. You are my brother," Lizbeth argued in a defensive tone.
"What sister you are," George scoffed loudly, "You've let them torture me for months now, allowing them to treat me like trash. The Tudors shall pay for what they've done and you will pay as well."
