BLOODLINES
— 17. Letters

   Days had passed since Marie's conversation with Joanna and Marie felt concerned when she found Harry nowhere in the castle. He hadn't even come to visit her as he usually did and she didn't see Kathy anywhere either. It concerned her.

She ended up insisted to see the King, but instead, Lord Stafford ended up bringing her to Lady Margaret.

Lady Margaret had been sitting in a chair near the fireplace, her head leaning back. However, the moment she saw Lord Stafford escort Marie in, she sighed in frustration and turned to look at them

Marie walked forward until she was standing in front of Lady Margaret. She forced a smile onto her face and curtsied before the King's Mother.

"I was told I could see the king," Marie complained in a calm tone.

"The King?" Margaret practically laughed, an amused look appearing on her face, "Do you suppose he idles here, girl? He has weddings to arrange."

"Then I ask to see Prince Harry," Marie insisted, trying not to sound demanding.

"Prince Harry is no longer here. I thought you'd have realized that by now," Margaret informed Marie, trying to hide her annoyance and disdain for the girl standing before her, "He's gone to get ready for his wedding to your niece, Princess Eleanor."

"I beg your pardon?" Marie frowned, a look of disbelief on her face.

"Did Kathy not tell you?" Margaret asked, acting as though she cared, "It was arranged before your brother and his wife left."

"Harry will not marry Eleanor," Marie scoffed, shaking her head desperately, "He is betrothed to me."

"Do not presume to lecture me in the law," Margaret argued in a stern tone, "A bended knee is not a contract. The Prince of Wales has repudiated you."

"That can't be true. Harry wouldn't do that," Marie complained as she shook her head in disagreement, "He would not abandon me. Not like this."

He couldn't. She gave him her maidenhead. He couldn't abandon her now.

"Alas, my lady, a young man's gaze can be inconstant, fickle," Lord Stafford spoke up, causing Marie to turn to glare at him.

"Not when it comes to me," Margaret snapped at him, refusing it to believe it.

"You're quite full of yourself," Lord Stafford remarked and Marie simply smiled at him.

"I have reason to be," She retorted with an attitude.

"Prince Harry is in Spain for his wedding to your niece," Margaret informed Marie in a calm tone, "She's already fertile, so she will bear him heirs when the marriage is concluded. Prince Harry and his sister, Mary, will double-stitch our alliance with your country and Spain, and you will have no part in it."

"Where is the king?" Marie practically growled as she turned to look at Lord Stafford.

Margaret sighed in frustration. She stood up from her seat, just before she made her way over to Marie. "My poor girl, something you should learn is there is a time for dignity, for admitting one has lost and being gracious in defeat. Perhaps Nora should have taught you that."

"Really?" Marie asked, letting out a large scoff, "That's funny. I dare say she taught me to do the opposite. She told me to never give up, no matter what happens, no matter what obstacles I am forced to face."

"There is no place for you now in England," Margaret glared at Marie almost hatefully, "The audience is over. But while you're here, I should give you the news. Lord Stafford's wife has died giving birth to their third child. He is in need of a new wife. You shall be his next wife."

Marie's eyes widened, glancing between Margaret and Lord Stafford in disbelief. "I beg your pardon?" She questioned, frowning in deep concern.

"You heard me," Margaret answered in a calm tone as Lord Stafford walked closer to them.

"You can't just marry me off!" Marie exclaimed, a betrayed look on her face.

"I can and I will. You are a ward of England. We may do whatever we please with you," Margaret argued in a stern tone as Lord Stafford stopped in front of Marie.

"If you care for him at all, you'll move on and not fight this," Lord Stafford whispered to Marie softly, "Trust me. I don't want this either, but neither of us has a choice in the matter, if it isn't obvious."

Lord Stafford tried to grab her by the arm to lead her out of the room, only to have her flinch as she pulled away from him. She turned on her heel, beginning to walk toward the door on her own.

Kathy had been walking down the hallway, only to stop and frown when she saw Lord Stafford and some guards escorting Marie, who was silently crying, out of a room.

Kathy walked into the room Marie had been coming out of, frowning when laid eyes upon her grandmother casually sitting by the fireplace while wearing a calm expression.

"What's going on?" Kathy asked her grandmother in concern and Margaret slowly turned to look at her granddaughter, "Why was Marie crying?"

"It's none of your concern," Margaret complained as she shook her head in disapproval.

"It is my concern and always will be when it involves Marie," Kathy argued in a stern tone, only to notice the expression Margaret wore, "What did you do, Lady Grandmother?"

"The Burgundian girl is to wed Lord Stafford," Margaret announced to Kathy in a calm tone, "She wasn't all that happy about it but in all honesty, I don't really care."

Kathy stared at her grandmother for a long moment, trying to contain her anger. After a brief while, she inhaled sharply, just before storming out of the room.

____

Despite being forbidden to do so, Marie traveled to the room of which Henry sat in. The English king was sitting there, eating his meal alone as he went through some documents in front of him.

"Your Grace," Marie called out as she entered the room and curtsied before the king.

Henry smiled as he turned his head to look at her, not seeming to be bothered about her being there. "Marie," He greeted her kindly.

"Thank you for seeing me," Marie told the king in a polite tone.

"I know this can't be easy for you," Henry responded, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Harry loves me, Your Grace. He can't marry my niece," Marie complained, a pleading look on her face.

"Harry has a new path he must take," Henry reminded Marie in a calm tone, "As do you, Marie."

Marie sighed, refusing to talk about herself. "Does Harry marry my niece willingly?" She questioned in concern.

"For peace and duty and for king and for country, yes, I think he does," Henry replied but just by the look on his face, Marie had the feeling that he was lying, "Much like his mother did in marrying me."

"But you loved each other to begin with," Marie retorted, staring at Henry in disbelief, "You think Harry can abandon his love for me to marry another?"

"A king is not like other men," Henry argued calmly as he stood up from his seat and turned to face her, "His heart belongs to his kingdom, and in that sacrifice, he proves that he will be a great monarch. Harry's ambition is to make this isle master of the world. I have seen it in his eyes. Soon, we will all be in his shadow. Even more so than his grandmother Nora."

Marie forced a smile onto her face, trying to hide her sadness. "If it is his choice, then I will accept it. However, you must tell me, Your Grace..." She trailed off, a genuinely concerned look on her face, "Is he happy, at least?"

Henry turned to Marie, looking shocked. "He has abandoned you and still, you care for his happiness, even if it is without you?"

"Of course, I do," Marie confessed, a small smile on her face, "Why wouldn't I?"

She paused for a long moment, taking a deep breath before she continued on. "I love him and my heart belongs to him. But if his heart belongs to another, I will have to accept it and move on."

Henry stared at Marie closely, shocked about how much she founded like Nora in her selflessness.

Harry could break her heart, but she would never give him the satisfaction of showing that it affected her. She would instead stand proudly and merely wish the best for him.

"Oh, Marie," Henry sighed in defeat as he moved close to the girl, "You were born to be Queen, just like her."

Marie tensed up, knowing for a fact that he wasn't talking about Lizbeth. He was talking about Nora.

Henry slowly walked closer to Marie, causing her to give him a weird look. "I am still without a wife. I know I am not Harry, but you would yet be Queen of England," He explained and Marie smiled softly at him.

"Being Queen of England was never what I wanted," Marie confessed in a soft whisper, "Harry was. You deserve the full heart of a wife. Mine will ever be for Harry."

"Yes," Henry whispered softly as he nodded his head in understanding, "And mine for my dear, sweet Lizbeth."

"But could you at least do me the favor of not letting your mother marry me off to Lord Stafford?" Marie found herself asking Henry, a pleading look on her face, "I don't even understand why he would want me. I always thought he disliked me."

"No man in this castle could ever dislike you, Marie," Henry assured her and Marie smiled softly, "I will try—"

Just then, the door opened, cutting their conversation short. "Who allowed you to see the King?" Someone suddenly asked, causing Marie to turn her head to see Margaret standing before her alongside some guards and Lord Stafford.

"I agreed to speak with her," Henry answered, defending Marie before his mother could snap at her, "But now, she may take her leave."

"Your Grace," Marie replied, curtsying before the king.

However, before she could walk out alone, Margaret spoke up. "Make sure she is taken to Lord Stafford. She shall be left in his care until it is time for their wedding, which will be in two days' time."

A saddened look on her face, Marie walked out without saying word.

Once the door was closed, Henry sighed. He sat back down and turned to look at his mother. "I think her heart is broken," He admitted in a saddened tone.

"Good," Margaret replied calmly, clearly sympathizing with the girl as Henry did, "She may take it as a warning not to try to be anything like Nora."

"We've put that girl through literal hell during her stay here," Henry complained in an aggravated tone, "She was supposed to be a ward, but we've treated her like a hostage. She's obeyed every order we've given her. She's been polite. She hasn't defied us and she's been obedient. And how do we repay her?" He asked, letting out a loud scoff, "We force her to marry a man nearly thirteen years her senior."

"There's still no word on Edmund of York and Lizzie Plantagenet's return to us," Margaret complained, purposely changing the subject, "He'd best be sent back soon, or perhaps we'll think again about who our friends are."

Henry sighed, simply rolling his eyes at his mother's words.

____

On the other side of the castle, Harry knelt before the altar in the chapel, where he had been almost the entire day, praying.

Soon enough, Margaret walked in to find her grandson kneeling before the altar, looking to be drunk.

"You evoke the torment of Christ in the wilderness," Margaret spoke up with a smile on her face and Harry turned her in annoyance, "You're troubled. Harry, it becomes you that your wish to hold your course in matters of the heart."

Harry sighed in frustration, practically stumbling as he turned to sit on his backside. "My father has already told me of the double-stitched alliance that Queen Joanna has demanded of us."

"She has a daughter whom she wishes to see wed well, and what better husband could there be in Christendom?" Margaret complained and Harry placed his face in his hands.

"I have prayed on king and country, peace and duty, as I was tasked to do," Harry explained in an aggravated tone.

"A king must choose his reason and his strength to choose a path which is right for England's future," Margaret reminded Harry in a stern tone.

Harry avoided eye contact with his grandmother, looking to be beyond saddened. "What of Marie?" He asked, slowly turning to look her in the eye. It almost looked like he was on the verge of crying. He felt guilty. He wasn't allowed to see her and he feared she hated him. She probably assumed that he was done with her now that he got what she assumed was what he wanted the entire time. To bed her once.

He wasn't done with her, though. He wanted her to be his for as long as they both lived. Now, his grandmother was stopping that from happening and he feared Marie was assuming the worst of him.

"Where is she in this?" Harry asked, tears welled in his eyes.

"She'll marry another," Margaret answered calmly, causing Harry's eyes to widen in disbelief, "She's known throughout England for her beauty. She'll find another suitor quicker than you may think."

"One that isn't me, though," Harry admitted in a whisper, a disappointed look on his face.

Margaret stopped. She turned to face Harry to see he looked to be consumed with thoughts of Marie.

"Without this second match, the whole alliance could be forfeit," Margaret tried to convince Harry, who was quick to snap at her.

"I will tell you when I have decided," Harry argued in a low, stern tone, "And I will pray on it further."

Margaret sighed in defeat, knowing the look on the boy's face all too well. "Don't bother trying to find her."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, giving his grandmother a puzzled look.

"I know you'll try to find her, but I forbid it. As does your father," Margaret demanded, despite it being a lie, "She is in the care of Lord Stafford now and you will not disturb her."

Harry had been on the verge of turning his back to his grandmother when he suddenly froze. He turned to face her once more, his eyes widening in realization. "Whose wife just died," He stated quietly before angrily scoffing at Margaret, "You wish him to marry her, don't you?"

"I never said that," Margaret argued, trying to hide her uneasiness.

"You never denied it, though, did you?" Harry retorted with an attitude as he gave his grandmother a furious look.

"Enough of this," Margaret ordered in a low, stern tone, "It is none of your concern. She is none of your concern."

Margaret shot Harry a scolding look, just before walking out of the chapel.

____

In London, Maggie walked through the streets with her children before stopping at a certain establishment.

"Stop right there," A man suddenly ordered in a stern tone, only to be cut off when Lizzie walked over.

"Lizzie," Maggie sighed in relief as she laid eyes on her cousin.

"Cousin," Lizzie greeted her cousin with a soft smile on her face, "Let her in."

The guard immediately stepped out of the way, allowing Lizzie to lead them into the establishment. "Apologies for that. The streets are wayward these days," She explained to her cousin, a large smile on her face, "Oh, Maggie, the whitest of white roses. I am glad that you have finally—"

"I wish you to take my boys in, Lizzie, for a time," Maggie pleaded, a saddened look on her face, "Our fortunes are much changed."

Lizzie didn't answer at first. Instead, she pulled open a door, allowing them to enter a room filled with men doing all sorts of paperwork while conversing.

Maggie glanced around, her eyes widening at the sight.

"A rose of any color has thorns and can still draw blood. Even yours, dear cousin," Lizzie informed Maggie in a calm tone, "Why don't you join us? As injustices grow, our numbers grow as well. There are many in England that hate the Tudors. Now more than ever since Nora's death."

"No, cousin," Maggie argued sternly as she turned to face her, "I came to ask for your help, but will my children be in danger here?"

"Reggie cannot stay. He is too young," Lizzie told Maggie, a sympathetic look on her face, "If you cannot feed him, then perhaps the monks at Sheen Priory may help you."

"Sheen Priory is a silent order," Maggie complained, giving Lizzie a look of disbelief, "They speak only on feast days. No, I-I will find another plan for Reggie. Perhaps my fortune will reverse. They have it."

"What are you saying, Maggie?" Lizzie asked softly as she shook her head, "Our fortunes will never turn under this pretender king. Maggie, you are the last true and legitimate child left that was fathered by a son of York. If you would pledge your fealty to our York heir, Edmund of York, and support his claim, you would rally half of England to his banner, and the sooner this thing would end."

"And the sooner all my children would be in the ground," Maggie retorted in a cold tone, "Just like the rest of our cousins who have lost their lives because of this war, Nora's children most of all."

Lizzie sighed and looked down at the ground, knowing she had a point.

Maggie felt uneasy, turning to glance at her son Henry, who was speaking with George Neville, his own cousin. "Do not let Henry come to any harm," She ordered in a low, threatening tone as she turned to Lizzie once more, "If one drop of his blood spills, I will kill you with my own bare hands."

Lizzie smiled, nodding her head in understanding. "You sound like her," She admitted softly, referring to Nora, "When it comes to your children, you're just like her. You'd defy the devil himself if it meant protecting your children from harm."

Maggie felt uneasy, trying to avoid eye contact with her cousin since she knew she was right. "But unlike her, I will not fail in doing so," She whispered softly, a saddened look appearing on her face.

_____

   The night before her wedding, Marie sat in her room, which wouldn't be hers anymore by the time nightfall came around once more the following day. She'd be sharing one with Lord Stafford as his wife.

She sat at her desk, writing a letter to Harry since she refused to not do so before the wedding.

Dearest Harry,

Though it pains me to have not heard from you, my love shall remain, no matter what happens.

I believe I was born to love you. I have forsaken everything I once believed in for you, after all.

I ask of you, Harry, to come back to me, wherever you may be. I must see you, at least once, before I am forced to marry another.

Sincerely,
Marie