BLOODLINES
— 26. The Last York

   It was nighttime. Kathy laid fast asleep in bed, images of a woman she believed to be Nora of Lancaster plaguing her dreams. She tossed and turned, the dream becoming a bit of a nightmare.

Just then, she shot up from her bed, waking up with a loud gasp. She glanced around worriedly, beginning to feel nervous and uneasy about the whole ordeal.

Morning time soon came around and in the nursery, Marie was sitting on a chair, smiling as she watched little Edward run around the room as he played with his toys. She smiled widely at the sight, her hands placed on her growing belly.

Hearing a knock on the door, she turned, finding it to be Kathy at the door. "What is it?" She asked the girl, letting out a large sigh.

  "Remember all those years ago, when Catherine first arrived here, and we went to see her at the Tower?" She asked Marie, looking uneasy as the girl nodded her head in confirmation, "Was the portrait I hit with the crossbow of Nora of Lancaster?"

Marie immediately let out a sigh after hearing Kathy's question. She looked down at the ground in shame and nodded her head. "Why do you ask?"

"I dreamt of her. She told me a war was coming. And I would be the one who would have to lead the army," Kathy explained in a confident tone, but Marie didn't seem to believe her all that much, "She said I would be the one to motivate the men and help them gain victory, just as she did. She said I had to remain strong and I would, for I had her blood running through my veins."

Marie tried to keep a straight face, only to laugh and shake her head. "Henry would never take you to France with him, Kathy. There is no chance of you fighting. It was a dream, nothing more," She informed Kathy as she picked up Edward and placed him down on her lap.

Kathy sighed in defeat, having no choice but to nod her head. "Do you ever dream of her?"

"All the time," Marie replied and shrugged without a care in the world, "But I've met her. You have not."

"She's still my grandmother," Kathy argued, looking almost offended, "I would have loved to meet her."

  "She fled England before Arthur was even born and was deemed a traitor to the crown She hated your father and hated your mother for choosing him over her. She would have hated you, too," Marie explained and Kathy immediately shook her head in response.

"I don't think so," She admitted and Marie turned to Kathy, narrowing her eyes at her.

"How would you know? You didn't even know her," Marie complained, earning a glare from Kathy.

  "I know that she believed in never blaming a child for their parent's mistakes. She wouldn't have blamed me for my mother and father's treachery. I believe she would have loved me, anyway. For I was her granddaughter, a namesake of her youngest daughter, and I am nothing like my mother and father," Kathy explained in a confident tone.

Not feeling like arguing, Marie sighed and nodded her head in response. "I suppose," She admitted softly and Kathy couldn't help but give her an annoyed look.

___

  At the Privy Council meeting, the usual members sat at a table together while Henry and Catherine sat on their thrones while Wolsey stood off to the side. "The time to strike is now!" Henry announced in a confident tone as he banged his fist against the arm of his chair, "We'll give Pope Julius back Bologna, Lombardy, and Genoa, stolen by the French, and we'll retake our own lands."

"And the Holy Roman Emperor supports this campaign," Thomas Boleyn spoke up confidently, "He calls you the most Christian King."

"So he should," Catherine replied with a smile on her face, "This is a holy war. My cousin Charles is with us, and his father, Maximilian."

"But we'll leave your father out of it this time," Stafford pointed out and Kathy smiled slightly.

"My father's betrayal only makes us stronger," Catherine argued defensively, "We must look to ourselves, to England."

"Gentlemen," Thomas Boleyn called out before turning to glance at the rest of the Privy Councilmen, "The queen is tireless, is she not?"

"And if I may venture, she's never looked stronger," Charlie spoke up and Kathy couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"General Howard, do you need a cushion, or do you have something you wish to say?" Catherine asked the man in an annoyed tone as she watched him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

Kathy watched the man closely. She always wondered how he had come to be a man so close to the crown. After all, he had been a fellow Yorkist for years. He was loyal to King Edward and Nora of Lancaster to a fault for years and when King Edward died, he became devoted to Nora and her son, King Arthur.

After Arthur had died, he was imprisoned in the Tower by Kathy's father and it wasn't until three years later he was released for a reason Kathy could not remember.

The man was always grumpy and the oldest person Henry surrounded himself with. Henry had a thing for all the men closest to him to be young men of practically no noble blood. People like Charlie and William Compton. People that he was the reason for their rise in social status.

"It's a mistake for you to lead the army, Your Grace," General Howard finally spoke up as he leaned forward in his seat, "You will leave the country without an heir, and England will be exposed, just as it had been when your uncle King Arthur died alongside his brother Prince Thomas. If it hadn't been for your father coming to power, England would have been left bare."

"You suggest the king stay here and what? Embroider something?" Charlie asked the man with an attitude.

"When the King of England leads his men, he increases their strength tenfold. The people like it when their monarch fights beside them. History has proven just that. Perhaps you recall Edward IV and Nora of Lancaster and how much their presence elevated the hopes and courage of their men? What about King Arthur and Prince Thomas? Their strength was like no other because they had joined their men on the battlefield. They increased the strength of their men tenfold" Kathy explained to the group in a confident tone.

"And tenfold is the calamity if he is beaten to death as King Arthur was or he gets an arrow to the throat or the heart. Or perhaps even gets his cock blown off," Howard explained and Kathy smiled slightly at the thought.

"The general's right about one thing," Wolsey spoke up, causing Kathy to turn to look at him, "Edmund of York still lives and he once tried to claim the throne as his father died before him."

"His rebellion was three years ago. There are none to rally to him," Catherine reminded him in a calm tone.

"There are always rebel pockets, Your Grace," Wolsey argued in a stern tone, "And if the realm should be left without an heir—"

"But the heir is here, Chaplain," Catherine suddenly announced as she stood up from her seat, "Within me."

Hearing her news, Henry immediately stood up alongside the rest of the group. Kathy's eyes widened at the revelation and she watched Henry kneel before her. He grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to it as he stared up at her. "Thank you, dear Catherine."

"The queen carries my son, as I shall carry the banner of England into France,  and we will be victorious," Henry explained as he stood up from kneeling on the ground.

The men began to clap and Kathy rolled her eyes, just before beginning to do the same.

As the meeting came to an end, Henry was on the verge of leaving when Kathy walked over to him and grabbed him by the arm. "We need to talk."

"About what?" Henry asked, a puzzled look on his face as he snatched his arm out of her dangerously tight grip.

  "About what happens if you die in battle and Catherine's heir doesn't survive," She reminded in a hushed tone.

Henry laughed, leaning closer to her with an amused look on his face. "Then I suppose you will be queen."

"No, that's not what I'm getting at, you idiot," She argued and Henry gave her a weird look, "You must write to Pope Julius. Ask for a legitimization."

"Of who?" He asked, a confused look on his face. However, after a few moments, Henry froze in place and his eyes widened in realization, "Of Marie's son."

  "Henry V did it with Thomas Fitzroy. You must do it with Edward," She insisted, a pleading look on her face.

Henry sighed in frustration at his sister's words. He leaned closer to Kathy, beginning to speak in a low tone. "Edward is being brought up as Stafford's son. Marie would crucify me if I did such a thing."

   "What is more important, the love Marie has for you or the safety of this realm?" Kathy snapped at her and Henry shot her a glare before walking away from her without another word said.

_____

   That afternoon, Marie was walking down the hallway alone when Maggie suddenly walked up to her. "Marie. There is something we must speak of," She informed Marie, an uneasy look on her face, "It involves Edmund of York."

Hearing the woman's words, Marie frowned in confusion. "What is there to talk about? He's dead. He has been so for three years," She replied and began to walk away.

"I lied to you," Maggie suddenly replied, causing Marie to stop and turn to the older woman with wide eyes.

"What?" She asked, a surprised look on her face.

    "He's been alive the entire time. He's been locked away in the Tower. I told you he had been executed alongside Lizzie because I didn't want you doing anything foolish," She explained, causing Marie's expression to become consumed with anger.

"Foolish?!" Marie shouted at her furiously, "You lied to me!"

"Marie—" Maggie began to say, reaching her hand out to Marie.

"I thought you were different than the Tudors who have continued to lie to me my entire life, but in truth, you're just like them," Marie explained, shaking her head in disapproval before she walked away.

_____

      In the hallway later that day, Marie was standing alongside Bessie Blount behind Catherine as she traveled through the hallway.

Just then, Maggie rushed over to them alongside her son Henry. "Your Grace," She called out, immediately bowing to Catherine.

"Maggie, I know this is hard," Catherine told the woman as she let out a large sigh in defeat.

"My cousin is no threat to you," Maggie complained, shaking her head as she had a pleading look on her face, "Please, beseech the king. One word from you, and—"

"Mother, I have told you, it is the king's will," Henry complained before turning to Catherine, "I am sorry, Your Grace."

"It's alright, Henry," She assured him and turned to Maggie once more, "There is nothing that can be done, Maggie."

"So you won't even try?" Maggie asked, a horrified look on her face.

"You forget who you're talking to, Lady Po—" Bessie began to say, only to have Catherine to turn to her lady.

"Uh, be quiet, Bessie," Catherine told the girl before turning back to Maggie a third time, "Maggie, your cousin Edmund led a rebellion against the crown."

"And he rots in the Tower for it," Maggie snapped at her in an aggravated tone, "Surely, that is punishment enough."

"We were wrong, Mother," Henry complained to his mother sternly, "All of us were wrong."

"Your cousin was given three extra years of life by the king because the king is just, but now he must receive his rightful sentence," Catherine explained, on the verge of walking away from Maggie spoke up.

"I told him you would never do it. He is just a boy and you wish to kill him?" Maggie asked in disbelief as tears filled her eyes, "I remember a girl in tears, begging for forgiveness for the blood that was split to bring her here, some of the blood belonging to Edmund's own father! How far you have come, Your Grace."

"I remember that girl, too," Catherine replied as she walked closer to Maggie, "She risked the loss of the man she loved to beg for your life and the lives of your three children. Your cousin is a danger to me and my child, and he must be executed—"

"It is the king's words that fall from your mouth, Catherine. Words he learned from his mother and grandmother no doubt when it comes to finding excuses to kill little boys descended from Nora of Lancaster," Maggie explained and Marie looked down at the ground in shame when she heard her words because she knew she was right, "Excuse me."

With that, Maggie stormed off and Marie teared up, beginning to feel uneasy at the thought of Edmund dying.

He was the last true York other than Maggie herself.

______

  Henry was walking toward his chambers when he suddenly stopped, frowning at the sight of Marie standing at his door, her arms crossed across her chest. Her back was leaning against the wall and she stared at him closely as he walked over. She was waiting for him.

"What is it, Marie?" He asked her in concern, knowing there must have been a reason for her being there at his door. She wanted something. There was no other reason she would be there at his door, swelling with Lord Stafford's child.

"I know you will not spare Edmund of York, but I beg of you, Henry, do not rid his body like you would just any common traitor," She explained, causing Henry to sigh in frustration as he went to push past her.

"Please, Henry!" Marie pleaded, tears beginning to form in her eyes, "I beg of you. He is Nora's grandson. He is the son of Prince George of York. He deserves to be buried alongside his father at Bedford Castle. I'll do anything, Henry. Just please, do this for me."

Henry sighed in defeat and turned to Marie. She was crying and her lip quivered as she did so. She truly wanted this. He didn't understand what difference it made where Edmund was buried. Why did every descendant of Nora want to be buried in the gardens at Bedford Castle so bad? Even his mother for a time wanted to be buried there.

"Please," Marie continued to beg, crying as she grabbed his hand and fell into a kneel before him, "I don't care if I look pathetic, Henry. For the love you bear for me, please do this. Do it for me. I beg of you."

Henry sighed in defeat. He stared down at Marie for a long moment before he grabbed her hands. He helped her off the ground and nodded. "Edmund may be buried alongside his father and Princess Grace at Bedford Castle," He decided and Marie lifted her head to look at him, sighing in utter relief. He moved closer to her, placing a hand on the side of her face, "I do this for you, Marie. No one else. I should let him rot for all that he's done, but for your sake, I shall grant him this small mercy."

Henry affectionately stroked her cheek and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek before he walked away.

Marie closed her eyes and let out a large sigh, quick to wipe her streaming tears.

_____

  That afternoon, Marie traveled to Edmund's cell at the Tower of London, where she was allowed into her to see the boy. She walked in to find Edmund in the middle of reading a boy. She walked over to him and Edmund lifted his head, not looking surprised to see her standing before him.

"Marie," Edmund greeted her calmly as he gradually began to smile, "It's a surprise to see you here. I thought you'd never come."

"In truth, I didn't know until today that you were alive," Marie admitted in a whisper, tears beginning to form in her eyes, "If I did, I would have visited you earlier. I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you these past years. I know what it's like to be a prisoner of the Tudors."

"Yet you still chose them over the Yorks," Edmund commented and Marie sighed as she stared down at the ground in shame.

"I've brought you some fresh apples," Marie awkwardly informed them, holding up a basket of apples as she tried to change the subject.

"Am I to die?" Edmund suddenly asked, knowing there was no other reason that Marie would come to see him.

Upon hearing his question, Marie began to tear up as she frantically nodded her head. "I'm so sorry," She told him softly, beginning to cry, "I'm so so sorry, Edmund."

Edmund smiled up at Marie, trying to contain his own sadness. "I suppose this day was to come sooner or later," He admitted as he let out a large sigh, "I do not fear death. Aunt Lizzie taught me to do otherwise."

Marie looked down at the ground, beginning to cry. Every York she had met never feared death when the day arrived when they were to be executed. People like Nora, George, and Lizzie. They showed no fear. They remained strong. She always wished to be strong like them, but in truth, she wasn't. She wanted to, but she knew she never would be. She wasn't a blazing white rose. She was a weak, trembling flower of house Tudor.

  Edmund sighed in defeat and stood up. He walked over to Marie, immediately hugging her. "You needn't weep for me, cousin Marie. Though it saddens me to die, at least I may be reunited with her, my father, and my grandmother Nora," He explained and Marie tried to contain her heartbreak at the mention of George and Nora. They had been killed in the same fashion that Edmund was about to be executed in.

"You will be buried at Bedford Castle," She informed him and Edmund immediately looked relieved, "I've convinced the King to allow such a thing to occur."

"Thank you," Edmund replied, smiling at the thought.

Bedford Castle had always been a sign and place of peace for Nora's family, starting with her grandmother. At least, that was what Marie had been told when she was younger. There was just something about that castle that had brought every one in their bloodline a feeling of comfort, peace, and assurance.

It was where Nora's father would go to escape his life at court. A life he hated more than anything.

It was a place where Nora went to when she needed some space from Edward and his foolishness involving Lord Warwick. It was where King Arthur and Henry's mother, Queen Lizbeth, had been born. It was where Nora had been born. It was where Nora fled to with her children when the Lancastrians rebelled against Edward and where she fled to when Henry's father killed King Arthur and became King.

It was a safe place for her family and always had been. It was an escape from their dreadful life as a family that had always been considered both Yorks and Lancasters. Which was a burden and curse no else could truly understand. Yet Nora embraced it.

Bedford Castle had always been a special place for those of her family and line and when Princess Grace died, she had been buried there. As had Prince George. And now, Edmund would be as well.

_____

     In the courtyard of the Tower of London, Marie stood from afar, watching as Edmund was forced onto the chopping blood. He extended his arms out and lowered his head.

The execution raised his ax and with one clean swing, Edmund had been beheaded.

Marie gasped loudly and placed a hand over her mouth at the sight, beginning to sob. She dropped to her knees and cries, thinking of all the times she used to take care of Edmund when she was just a girl and he had been just a baby. He was even younger than her and still, he had been killed at the hands of the Tudors. Just like the rest of the little York boys that came before him.

It pained her more than anything to think about it.

He had been the last boy of House York descended from Nora. Now, there was only Tudors.