BLOODLINES
— 5. Grief

It was the morning of Arthur's funeral. Henry walked into his chambers, finding Lizbeth sitting in front of the fireplace. She was staring blankly at the fire, her hair down, not even close to being ready for her son's funeral.

He sighed in defeat, slowly making his way over to her. He grabbed her by the hand and knelt in front of her. "Why would God take him from us?" Lizbeth asked, slowly turning to look at Henry with tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"He sent us another," Henry added in softly as he pressed a hand over her growing belly.

Lizbeth remained silent, not responding to what Henry had said.

Henry sighed in defeat, lifting his hand to move the hair out of Lizbeth's face. "Please, my love. Try and eat something before we leave," He pleaded, fearing for his wife's wellbeing.

"I'm not hungry," Lizbeth whispered, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Lizbeth—" Henry began to argue, only to have Lizbeth cut him off.

"I said, I'm not hungry!" Lizbeth growled at Henry, causing the man to look saddened.

____

    At Arthur's wedding, everyone else was already inside. However, as Catherine arrived, Marie was standing outside, waiting for her.

"Princess Catherine," Marie called out as Catherine went to walk past her.

Catherine stopped walking, turning to look at Marie. "I am sorry for your loss," She told the Spanish princess, a sympathetic look on her face, "Your loss has endeared you to the people. They share your grief."

"They didn't know him," Catherine replied in a calm tone.

"My own grief is defiled by guilt," Marie confessed, a saddened look on her face, "I sometimes find myself thinking I could have stopped it in a way, that I could have stopped someone else I cared about from dying."

"I feel that as well," Catherine admitted in a whisper, "But we couldn't have. Nothing could have stopped the sweat from taking him, especially not us."

"Perhaps you're right," Marie replied after a moment, nodding her head in understanding, "May I lead you in, Princess Catherine?"

Catherine smiled slightly and nodded her head. She held her arm out and the duo wasted no time walking in together.

When they had entered, many people began to whisper amongst themselves. Kathy and Harry frowned, exchanging a look with each other.

As Lizbeth laid eyes on them, she began to glare, unhappy that Marie and Catherine had walked in together. They were the last two people she wanted to spend time together.

After walking away from Catherine, Marie found a spot to stand beside Harry.

Sir Richard soon walked in, wearing his armor. He bowed to Arthur's body, just before breaking the wooden part of the flag he carried. He placed the flag over his body and took a step back.

Just then, Lena and Rosa, Catherine's ladies, began to wail loudly, which caused Kathy to frown as she exchanged a weird look with Marie.

"What in heaven's name are they doing?" Margaret whispered to the Spanish Ambassador, who was standing beside her.

"They are keening, my lady," He answered in a calm tone, "This is the tradition in Spain."

"We're not in Spain," Margaret complained in annoyance, "They must stop."

"No," Lizbeth spoke up in a stern tone, "Let them wail."

Despite trying not to, Kathy began to tear up, hearing the women wail. Arthur was gone.

Despite hiding it, a part of her was saddened by it. She was always so cruel to him and now, she couldn't take it back.

____

After Arthur's funeral, the court ended up having their evening meal together. Kathy sat at the head table with her mother, father, brother, and Catherine, a somber look on her face.

From the corner of her eye, Lizbeth saw Maggie get up from her seat and walk into the hallway. The York woman took a deep breath, just before standing up and following her cousin out.

Henry stood just outside the room, speaking with his mother and Chaplain Wolsey in a hushed tone.

"The people are afraid," Wolsey told the king and his mother quietly, "They say the sweating sickness that took Prince Arthur is back to end the Tudor rule."

"How much longer will they feast upon that?" Margaret complained, a deeply aggravated look on her face.

"Until the line of succession is clear, my lady," Wolsey replied calmly before Henry spoke up.

"Spain insists we pay the widow's jointure, a third share of Arthur's lands promised in the marriage contract, and we must return the dowry," Henry explained, causing Margaret to give her son a weird look.

"The boy is barely in his grave, and all they can think about is gold," Margaret complained, a look of disbelief on her face.

"Unless that girl is carrying an heir, our alliance is in shreds, and every York who ever had a claim will be raising men against me. Edmund of York most of all," Henry explained, feeling overwhelmed with uneasiness.

"I will hasten Meg's marriage to Scotland. That will keep one hostile camp at bay, at least," Margaret assured her son, just before walking away.

Marie stood up from her seat at the main table. She smiled softly, walking up to where Maggie's youngest children sat on the floor, playing toys with each other near the fireplace.

She held a small bowl of grapes, ready to offer it to the children. Many heads turned, especially Margaret and Henry's. They narrowed their eyes at Marie and watched her closely, knowing it had been the first time she actually had the courage to address anyone but the royal family in public.

First, she had done it with Catherine at Arthur's funeral and now, she was doing it with Maggie's children. And in truth, Maggie's children were the last people Marie should have wanted to get caught talking to in public. It would raise suspicion.

"Hello, children," Marie greeted the children with a kind smile as she knelt in front of them, "Would you like some grapes? They're quite tasty. And something sweet always helps to soothe our grief and pain. Perhaps you'll feel the same."

"Yes, please," Maggie's daughter, Ursula, smiled as she picked up a grape.

"Let me get this right," Marie spoke softly, a smile as she looked down at the girl, "You must be Ursula."

"I am," The little girl nodded in confirmation as she smiled up at the elder girl.

"Which means you must be Reginald," Marie continued on, turning to look at the young boy sitting beside Ursula.

The boy sheepishly smiled, nodding his head as Marie handed him a grape as well.

Outside in the hallway, Lizbeth had cornered Maggie, ready to confront her about Arthur. "I never for a second would have allowed Arthur to roam free around Ludlow if I knew there was an outbreak of the sweat," She complained in a venomous tone, "Why would you?"

"I didn't 'let' him do anything, Lizbeth. He was a man grown with a wife. I couldn't control what he did," Maggie argued, a look of disbelief on her face.

"Yet you sent your own children away to protect them," Lizbeth retorted with an attitude as she glared at Maggie.

"After Arthur fell ill," Maggie complained, a look of disbelief on her face. She couldn't believe Lizbeth was accusing her of such a thing.

"How fortunate that is," Lizbeth replied, letting out a large scoff.

"This is your foul harvest, Lizbeth, not mine," Maggie argued in a stern tone as she leaned closer to her cousin, "Don't try to lay it at my doorstep when it's no one's fault but your own. I didn't kill my own mother to remain queen."

Lizbeth opened her mouth to snap at Maggie, only to be cut off when the younger woman stormed off.

As she walked back into the dining hall, Lizbeth found herself locking eyes with Marie, who was smiling as she knelt on the floor in front of Maggie's youngest children.

She tensed up, feeling anything but happy about the sight. She balled her hand into a fist, just before walking back over to her seat beside Henry.

With Harry next in line to the throne, Marie was getting more comfortable during her stay at court as a ward, which didn't settle well with Lizbeth.

The girl was getting too comfortable and sure of herself. It couldn't have meant anything good.

____

    That night, wearing her nightclothes, Lizbeth sat in bed as she conversed with Henry, who still dressing in his nightclothes. "Everywhere, there's talk," He complained to his wife in a worried tone, "Outside, the people talk of our demise. Inside, they talk of enemies. In France, mercenaries are being gathered against us as we speak. After eight years, men have finally grown the courage to stand against us once and for all as vengeance for what happened to your mother. How come they have waited so long? They've had eight years!"

Henry sighed in frustration, slowly turning to look at Lizbeth. "What did Maggie Pole say to you?" He asked his wife, referring to what happened at dinner, "Did she speak of her Plantagenet cousins? Of Lizzie or Edmund?"

"She still refuses to attend my confinement," Lizbeth complained, an overwhelmed look on her face as she placed her hands over her growing belly, "Is this all my fault? Is there a curse on us, and am I to blame?"

Lizbeth began to cry out as she continued to clutch her belly, feeling pain there. Henry quickly rushed over to his wife, wrapping his arms around her as he held her close in an attempt to comfort her.

"Shh. It's alright, my love. It's alright," Henry told her in an assuring tone as he sat behind her with his arms around her, "Come, come, come. Now, now. It's alright, Lizbeth. Everything's alright. Just calm down. You need to relax."

"God hates us," Lizbeth cried out, shaking her head desperately, "He is punishing us for what we did."

"No," Henry argued in a stern tone, "God loves us. We are His anointed King and Queen. He loves us as we loved Arthur."

"He's gone," Lizbeth sobbed as Henry held her close to his chest, "Our boy. Our precious, beautiful boy is gone and it's all my fault."

Henry continued to try to calm Lizbeth done as he held her close, allowing her to sob in his arms as she grieved over their son.

____

    The following morning, Marie stood near the window that overlooked the courtyard. She smiled as she watched Harry return from going riding with Kathy and Charlie. Usually, she went with the trouble-making duo, but this time, she had politely declined.

She smiled softly at the sight of Harry and made her way outside to greet him. She held Arthur's crossbow, something she had gotten from Maggie. Maggie wanted it to be given to Harry, but didn't feel as though she was close enough to the boy to give him a crossbow that used to be his elder brother's. She had convinced Marie to do it instead, despite the latter being hesitant to do so. She felt awkward.

Harry had been in the middle of talking with Kathy and Charlie when from the corner of his eye, he locked eyes on Marie. He began to smile and before walking over to Marie, he turned to look back at his best friend and his elder sister. "We will finish this later," He told them, just before beginning to walk toward Marie with a large smile on his face.

As Harry walked away, Charlie turned to Kathy, an amused look on his face. "Ditching us for Marie. What is new?"

"I dare say you do the same to Harry for me," Kathy retorted with a playful smile on her face.

"Yes, but Harry doesn't know that," Charlie corrected Kathy, smiling back at her, "Harry publicly shows how much he loves Marie and doesn't care who sees. He does it more than ever now, now that he's to be king one day."

"A pity they'd never get the chance to marry," Kathy admitted in a whisper, a disappointed look on her face, "Even if Harry begged her to marry against his parent's wishes, Marie would never agree. Not while knowing what it meant."

"What would it mean?" Charlie asked, a confused look on his face.

"Becoming just like my grandmother, Nora of Lancaster. Harry could easily do the same as our grandfather did. Marry the woman he loves but keep it a secret," Kathy explained, feeling uneasy about the whole ordeal.

"Why is it the moment that I lay eyes on you, even when I'm in an unpleasant mood, I find myself smiling?" Harry found himself asking Marie as he walked over to her with a wide grin on his face, "It's as if a light like yours could shine even the darkest of rooms."

"Might want to write that in your next letter," Marie playfully commented, a smile forming on her lips.

"I will," Harry responded, smiling back at Marie, "But don't tell Charlie and Kathy. Don't want them thinking I'm soft."

"Wouldn't want that," Marie playfully joked as they both quietly laughed.

"I was hoping you would have joined us on our ride through the woods, but Kathy said you had kindly refused the offer," Harry complained, a disappointed look on his face, "I was hoping to finally have an opponent that would actually be a challenge."

"It would seem I take after my mother in skills of horseback riding," Marie confessed, a proud smile on her face since everyone knew how good Mary of Burgundy had been at riding a horse.

"I hope not," Harry suddenly spoke up, an awkward look on his face.

Marie's eyes widened, feeling just as awkward when she knew what he had meant. Her mother might have been one of the greatest at horseback riding, but in the end, it led to her untimely death. Marie knew of it, but she didn't remember it. Most of the time, she liked to act like it never happened, for she didn't even remember her mother and why would she grieve for a person she didn't even remember?

"I was hoping I might see you," Marie suddenly confessed, breaking the awkward silence between them.

"What, were you missing my company?" Harry asked jokingly and Marie smiled as she shook her head.

"Not quite," She told him, holding out Arthur's crossbow, "I found this. Maggie Pole had it. It was Arthur's. I thought you might want to have it. I know that the two of you didn't always get along at times, but deep down, I know you still cared about him. It would be good for you to have something to remember him back."

From a distance, Catherine had been walking out of the courtyard. She had been planning to speak to Harry, but the moment she saw Marie with him, she sighed, looking defeated by the whole ordeal.

  Harry smiled, slowly taking the crossbow from Marie's grasp. "It's a fine work."

"Indeed," Marie confirmed as she nodded her head in agreement.

"Thank you," Harry told the girl as he smiled down at her, "Do you know how to use it?"

Marie smiled proudly and nodded her head, causing Harry to chuckle. "Wild women, you and my sister are," He commented and Marie quietly laughed at the thought, "It's unnatural, my lady grandmother says. She claims that wise women find strength within her God-given role."

Marie gradually began to smirk at Harry's word, knowing it most definitely explained her. "Clearly, Kathy doesn't follow that," She pointed out and Harry smiled as he nodded his head in agreement.

"Indeed," Harry agreed with a smile on his face.

Marie was silent for a long moment, trying to contain her smile as she walked with Harry through the courtyard. "But neither did her grandmother," She finally decided to say and Harry frowned as he turned to look at her, "Nora of Lancaster. Your grandmother."

    At the mention of the woman, Harry stopped walking. He turned to Marie, an uneasy look on his face. "It's forbidden to talk about her, especially here at court," He reminded her and as Marie looked down at the ground in disappointment, Harry smiled at her playfully, "So continue, why don't you?"

Marie found herself genuinely laughing at Harry. She should have expected that. Whenever Harry was told not to do something, it made him want to do it even more. He might not have shared a lot of similarities with his mother, but in that way, he was just like her. As was Kathy.

"Her mind was her weapon. She was smarter than anyone around her, whether or not people wanted to admit it," Marie began to explain, smiling proudly as she was finally allowed to speak highly of the woman she admired most after being forced to keep quiet about it for more than half her life, "When I was just a little girl in Burgundy, she had this horse. Dancer, she called it. It was an Andalusian stallion. A gift from my father to her. The damn horse could break a man's neck with one kick if he wanted to."

"I want one," Harry confessed, a large smile forming on his lips as he envisioned the horse in his mind, "I'd ride it straight into France," He paused, slowly turning to look at Marie as he grabbed her hand and held it, "And I'd take you with me."

"Why's that?" Marie found herself asking Henry, a curious look on her face.

"So you could watch me defeat them once and for all," Harry boasted, a confident look on his face, "They're Burgundy's greatest enemy, are they not?"

"They are," Marie confirmed, but still wondered what Harry was getting at.

"When we first met, I thought you were French. You spat on the ground and practically damned all Frenchmen. I suppose you still hate them?" He asked and Marie smiled as she nodded her head, finally realizing what he was getting at, "Well, I'd defeat them. All for you. All to show how much I care about you."

Marie's smile faded. She glanced around, a worried look on her face. "Harry, stop," She pleaded as she looked back at him, "We can't. Especially here."

"I know, I know. I'm the heir to the throne. We can't marry. I don't care," Harry complained, an aggravated look on his face as Marie let go of his hand, "You know how I care about you and I don't care if I'm not supposed to show that. I shall do it anyway."

Marie tried not to blush at Harry's love confession. Instead of responding to it, Marie decided to simply change the subject. "She knew how to use a sword."

Hearing her revelation, Harry's eyes lit up at the thought. "My grandmother?" He asked as he shook his head, "No way."

"She did. She learned from your Uncle Jasper, in fact, who learned from her father," Marie informed Harry, who looked saddened at the mention of Jasper Tudor.

"He was like a grandfather to me, that man," He confessed and Marie smiled sadly as she nodded her head in confirmation.

"He was in love with Nora. Deeply, in fact," Marie continued on and Harry listened to her closely, deeply interested in all she had to say, "But she was in love with another. Your actual grandfather. King Edward IV."

"I've heard stories about them. Their love was legendary. He went through hell and back just to make her his," Harry explained and as Marie smiled, he just had to ruin it once more, "I'd do that for you, you know."

"Harry, what did I say?" Marie scolded the boy, giving him an annoyed look. He didn't know when to stop, did he?

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," Harry rolled his eyes as he lifted his hands in mock surrender, "Tell me more about my grandmother."

Marie smiled, nodding her head before she continued on. "She was pretty good with a sword. She and your grandfather, King Edward, taught your mother and her brothers how to use a sword."

"My Lady Mother knows how to use a sword?" Harry asked, his eyes widening in shock, "And here I thought she was dull."

Marie quietly laughed at Harry's comment about his mother. "After the Battle at Bosworth in 1485, the battle that led to the deaths of King Arthur, Prince Thomas, and Richard of York, your mother cut down a half dozen men with a sword to escape the war camp. She punched your father in the face for killing her brothers and stole his swords," She explained, only to have her eyes widen when she realized she had gotten too comfortable with Harry and had said something she shouldn't have. "I've said too much. I'm sorry."

Feeling worried about her wellbeing after saying what she did, Marie was on the verge of walking away when Harry grabbed her by the arm. "You're fine," He assured her as she turned to face him once more, "I want to hear more. I won't tell anyone."

"I shouldn't be talking about this, anyway, Harry," She admitted in a hushed tone, "Telling the wrong people will get me in trouble. It could even mean my head."

"I'm not the wrong people. Your secret and stories are safe with me. I swear it," Harry assured her and gradually, Marie began to smile, "So my grandmother could use a sword?"

Marie couldn't help but smile as she nodded her head. He was deeply interested in what she had to say. "At the Battle of Barnet, she rode onto the battlefield wearing a man's armor. She killed Lord Warwick, your Aunt Maggie's grandfather, as vengeance for killing her father, the famous Thomas FitzRoy. No one knew until Nora removed her helmet and Lord Warwick was lying on the ground, dying," She paused, a mischievous look appearing on her face, "She taught me how to use a sword, too, you know?"

"I want to see," Harry insisted, an almost desperate look on his face as he stepped toward her.

"Are you sure?" Marie asked, a playful look on her face.

"Yes. Definitely," Harry replied, moving closer, "I do. Show me."

Marie slowly nodded, grabbing ahold of Harry's hand before they began to walk away together.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Edward, Henry, and Harry...three generations of Royal men whipped by the women they love 😭😂

Edward and Harry the most, though, that's for sure.

Out of three main pairings in this book series (Edward/Nora, Henry/Lizbeth, and Harry/Marie) Marie's relationship with Harry has got to be the most like Edward and Nora's relationship, just at a slower pace, but unlike the Edward and Nora, Harry and Marie can learn from the other couple's mistakes and not make the same mistakes they did. (or not 🤷🏻‍♀️😬)