BLOODLINES
— 7. Death of a Monarch

It was noontime and Lizbeth walked with Henry through the gardens at Westminster. Henry had his arm wrapped around her as they walked together, enjoying the sun and fresh air.

"Fresh air is tonic for us both," Henry told his wife, a small smile on his face.

"It is my last look before so long in darkness during my confinement," Lizbeth explained, a disappointed look on her face.

"Your confinement will pass swiftly, my love, and then you will be back in my arms with our newborn son," Henry explained, grabbing ahold of Lizbeth's hands before holding it in his own.

"My mother once warned me to guide my heart, for Arthur didn't belong to me, he belonged to the throne of England. Just like his namesake," Lizbeth explained, causing Henry to sigh in defeat.

"He belongs to a greater throne now," He assured her and Lizbeth felt uneasy as she placed a hand on her belly.

"She lost four sons, all of which were destined to be kings. One of them was a king. So many destinies were cut short," She explained, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as she turned to face her husband and looked up at him, "Henry, was it worth it? Did so many people have to die so that we could hold the throne?"

"We've had eight years of peace," Henry reminded Lizbeth, letting out a large sigh, "And I would do it all again for England and for you, my love. We have much to be grateful for. Four children grown, one more soon to be with us, an alliance sealed with Scotland."

"And our love all these years," Lizbeth whispered softly as she stared up at Henry, "The love that will never fade, no matter what."

Henry smiled, nodding his head before he began to lean forward. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. Slowly, he pulled away and smiled down at Lizbeth lovingly, "Hold onto that love. For it will keep you strong."

Lizbeth smiled and nodded, grabbing ahold of Henry's hands before they continued to walk together.

____

That night, Henry called for a dinner involving his wife, his children, and Catherine. Marie, however, was the only one who wasn't there.

Catherine was sitting next to Mary, telling her the backstory of Pomegranates and how they came from paradise.

"Well, you can be sure of one thing," Meg suddenly spoke up in a sarcastic tone, "None of them came from Scotland, which is far from paradise."

Kathy and Harry turned to each other, both of them rolling their eyes while Mary giggled.

"Come," Catherine encouraged the young girl with a smile on her face, "Let's play hide-and-seek."

After Mary stood up, Catherine took a long moment to do so. Before she did, in fact, stand up, she looked over at Harry, both of them exchanging a lingering glance.

Kathy began to frown, wondering what the hell was that about. Harry never told her about anything going on with Catherine and he told her everything.

Moments had past and while it was Mary's turn to find Catherine, she looked around. Catherine was hiding underneath the table and Meg found herself feeling annoyed by her sister's failure to find the Spanish Princess when she was in the most obvious place.

Harry and Kathy seemed to be in their own world as they drank their wine in silence. Just then, Lizbeth stood up and made her way over to Harry. She placed her hands on his shoulders as she stood to his left.

Harry turned his head, exchanging a weird look with Kathy.

"You look thin. Are you eating?" Lizbeth suddenly asked Harry as if she were concerned, causing Kathy to loudly scoff.

Lizbeth was simply worried that she was going to lose another son to the Tudor curse.

"I'm always eating. You know that," Harry pointed out as he stared up at his mother.

"You are one of those for whom food and good wine do not alter girth," Lizbeth told her son and smiled as she patted him on the shoulder before walking away, "Lucky fella."

"I doubt you'll still be that skinny in the coming years," Kathy commented, a devilish smirk on her face, "Soon or later, all that food and sugar will have to go somewhere."

"Katherine," Lizbeth suddenly scolded her daughter, causing the Tudor girl to give her mother a weird look, "Don't start with the taunting. It isn't necessary."

"I wasn't—" Kathy began to argue, only to cut herself off and sigh, not in the mood to go at it with her mother. Not yet, at least.

"Lizbeth, leave her be. She's not doing anything wrong," Henry defended his daughter as he always did, causing Kathy to smirk in satisfaction.

"She needs to learn that even if she has something to say, she doesn't always have to say it," Lizbeth argued back in a stern tone.

"Like you did?" Kathy retorted with an attitude as she took a large sip of her wine, "Oh, wait. You didn't. You found a man that was deeply in love with you, a man who killed your brother to become king, and you ruled through him ever since."

The entire room fell silent and even little Mary froze when she felt the tension. Harry's lips curled upwards, noticing how Kathy hatefully glared at her mother. An argument was on the verge of starting and they would all stand witness to it.

"Enough," Lizbeth demanded in a stern tone and Kathy, like always, didn't listen, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I do, Mother," Kathy replied in a sinister tone, "I know all about how you betrayed your mother. How you forced her to watch as her last son, your brother, die on the chopping block before you killed her as well. Father, forgive me, I love you, but it is not right that Mother chose you over her own family after you killed her brothers and Lady Grandmother killed the rest of Mother's siblings. Children, Father! Children!"

"Lady Grandmother killed children?" Little Mary suddenly asked, a horrified look on her face.

"This is neither the time nor the place for this, Kathy," Henry argued in a stern tone.

"When will it be then, Father? Because it is forbidden to even speak Nora's name," Kathy argued in a stern tone.

"There is no reason to speak of her. That is why," Lizbeth demanded coldly as she stood up from her seat, "She was my mother, yes. But she was not a good person."

"Like you're a bloody saint," Kathy retorted as she let out a large scoff, "You are the reason your entire family is dead."

Without hesitation, Lizbeth had lifted her hand and struck Kathy across the face. Kathy gasped as her face whipped to the side while everyone else stared at the duo in shock.

Kathy gradually began to smile, much to Lizbeth's horror. She slowly turned to her mother, looking unbothered. "You only strike because you know I speak the truth. You forbid us from talking of our grandmother because you do not want to be reminded of the worst mistake of your life. You claim Nora's bad but I dare say she was nowhere near as bad of a mother as you are."

"You're a disgrace," Lizbeth growled at Kathy, who shrugged.

"I guess we have that in common, Lady Mother," Kathy smirked up at her mother as she stood up. She downed the last of her wine before storming off.

"That wasn't necessary, Lizbeth," Henry scolded his wife as Kathy stormed off, Harry was quick to chase after her as he always did, "You didn't have to slap her."

"Go ahead, Henry. Defend her, just like you always do," Lizbeth complained and Henry scoffed.

"She is our daughter, something you have failed to realize as of late," Henry retorted and that was the last of what Kathy heard before she was out of sight.

Harry soon lost sight of her and even as he continued to search for his sister, she seemed to be nowhere in sight.

Kathy had entered Charlie's room to find in the middle of undressing. He turned, his eyes widening at the sight of Kathy. "Kathy, what are you doing?" He asked her in concern, "I thought you supposed to be—"

Before Charlie could finish asking his question, Kathy had cupped the boy's face in her hands and had kissed him passionately.

Slowly, she pulled away from the kiss and Charlie frowned at her. "What was that for?"

"I just wanted to kiss you," Kathy confessed, a sad smile on her face.

____

After giving up on finding his sister, who clearly didn't want to be found. He walked down the hallway, only to stop when he laid eyes on Marie, who was just walking out of the chapel.

"It's is relieving to see you," Harry confessed, letting out a large sigh in relief, "Especially after the night I just had."

"A dinner with a family like ours can do that to you," Marie replied, smiling as Harry quietly laughed, "Somehow, I am glad I was not invited. I spent this evening at prayer instead."

"And I'll wager you were praying to be back at home," Harry replied, a small smile on his face as she began to walk past him.

"Home? What home?" Marie suddenly asked as she stopped walking and turned to face him.

"Well, Burgundy, of course," Harry answered as if it were obvious.

"I haven't been in Burgundy since I was seven years old. My brother is now in power. I haven't seen him since I was three," Marie informed Harry in a calm tone, "That place is my home no longer."

"What about your father, the Holy Roman Emperor?" Harry asked almost tauntingly as he walked closer to her, "The powerful Maximilian."

"Oh, don't make me retell the story. You already know it," Marie complained and Harry shook his head.

"I do not. Tell me," Harry encouraged Marie, who sighed in defeat.

"I was not even three yet when my mother died. My father was so deep in grief, he returned to Austria, leaving my brother to rule. He was sixteen. My sister was sent to Austria as well to marry and I was left with my grand-mère and Nora. I haven't seen my father since I was three and he's made no attempt to get me back," Marie explained, a part of her beginning to feel saddened at the thought as she looked down at the ground, "It would seem I have no family."

"Damn him, then. I can be your family," Harry retorted, gradually beginning to smile, "And Kathy, too. She loves you just as much as I do...Just in a different way."

Marie's smile faded as she shook her head. "Stop," She demanded and before Harry could react, she walked away from him and into the courtyard.

"Why do you always tell me to stop, Marie? I love you. More than I've ever loved anyone. I want to marry you," Harry confessed as he followed after her.

When Marie stopped walking and turned to face him, Harry walked over to her. He cupped her face in his hands and stared down at her with a large smile on his face, "I want to make you my princess, Marie, and soon enough, my queen," He paused, slowly leaning closer to her, "Will you have me?"

"No," Marie managed to get out, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"What do you mean, no?" Harry asked, a look of disbelief on his face, "Don't you love me?"

"I do, but do you realize that your parents will never allow it?" Marie complained as she stared up at Harry with a saddened look on her face, "They will never allow you to marry me."

"I don't care what they do and do not allow. What are they going to do, disown me if I marry you without their permission?" Harry retorted as he scoffed loudly, "I am the Prince of Wales now. I am the heir to the throne. I may marry who I please."

"You're a lovesick fool if you believe that," Marie suddenly admitted, causing Harry to frown in confusion, "I won't marry you. Not when I know what it would mean."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, watching as Marie teared up. He tried to figure out what she was thinking, but it was practically impossible.

She was thinking about the Tudor curse.

"I'm sorry, I can't marry you," Marie managed to get out before turning on her heel.

Harry tried to call out for her, but Marie ignored him, running off before he could catch her.

_____

The next morning, Henry and Lizbeth were walking through the gardens at Westminster as they always did. Suddenly, Lizbeth let out a painful groan, clutching her belly. "Ooh," She groaned in pain, "I have a cramp."

"Should I call the physician?" Henry asked in concern, but Lizbeth shook her head in response.

"Father," Harry called out, causing Henry and Lizbeth to turn their heads to see their son approaching them, "Lady Mother, are you well?"

"The child is heavy, nothing more," Henry assured his son, not wanting to worry him.

"What is it, Harry?" Lizbeth managed to get out, forcing herself to hide her pain as she continued to walk.

"I would like your blessing to be wed," Harry informed his father in a calm tone, "As Prince of Wales, my match must be in service of our country."

"Well, who would you have?" Henry asked, a confused look on his face.

"Marie," Harry suddenly revealed, causing Henry and Lizbeth to immediately stop walking and turn to their son.

"Harry, a union like that simply cannot happen," Lizbeth ordered in a stern tone, "She is a ward of our family, nothing more."

"She is the daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian. Her brother is the Duke of Burgundy and is married to Queen Isabella of Castile's heir, Princess Joanna. Marie could be the key to getting that dowry money you so desperately want to obtain from the marriage between Catherine and Arthur," Harry explained and for a moment, Henry felt as though his son had a point, "Father, I would like to marry her. England is in turmoil, and this will see off any challengers to the throne."

"You and your sense of duty warms me," Henry replied in a calm tone.

"But papal dispensation is required, I know. However, we would surely obtain it. Marie's father was anointed by the Pope himself. I believe he will most definitely give us the dispensation," Harry continued on and Henry nodded in agreement.

"We shall speak more fully about this as we—" Henry began to tell his son, only to be cut off when Lizbeth let out a loud, pain-filled cry as she clutched her belly.

"Lady Mother?" Harry asked his mother worriedly.

"My love?" Henry asked Lizbeth in concern when the woman cried out and bent forward.

"The child is coming early," She informed Henry as she screamed in pain, "Henry!"

"Are you certain?" Henry asked in concern as Lizbeth held onto him for support.

"Yes," Lizbeth gasped in pain as she nodded her head.

____

Lizbeth was laid out on the birthing bed by Henry as Margaret stood at her beside with a few midwives and a horrified Meg.

"Is it always like this?" Meg exclaimed, a terrified look on her face.

"Henry, go!" Margaret demanded, knowing it wasn't allowed for him to stay.

"Henry, stay," Lizbeth cried out as the midwives stripped her of her clothes, "Please, stay."

"I'm not going anywhere, my love," Henry assured his wife as he moved closer to her, "Not now, not ever. I am here."

"Henry, it is not right—" Margaret began to argue, but Henry was quick to snap back.

"I'm staying!" Henry argued in a stern tone.

"Father, what's happening?" Meg asked worriedly as Lizbth screamed in agony.

The midwives handed Lizbeth rope to grab onto as she pushed in a kneeling position.

Henry sat beside her, holding her arm for comfort while Meg stood off to the side, looking horrified.

"Dear cousin, I'm here," Maggie suddenly spoke up as she entered the room, a worried look on her face.

She knew Lizbeth's state all too well and she was not going to survive it. She just knew it.

"No," Lizbeth cried out, shaking her head, "Why is she here?"

"You asked for her, my love," Henry reminded Lizbeth, a puzzled look on his face.

"Well, I take it back," Lizbeth argued, frantically shaking her head, "She hates me! She will ill-wish my child as she ill-wished me. Would you take this son away from me as well, Maggie? Will that satisfy you enough after taking the lives of my mother and your brother?"

"Nora was my mother, too, Lizbeth. Maybe not by blood, but she raised me. I lost a mother that day as well," Maggie argued as she stared at Lizbeth in disbelief, "Despite that, I would never ill wish your child, though, Lizbeth."

"Get out," Lizbeth managed to get out as she turned to shook Maggie a hateful glare, "Get out! I don't want you here."

Maggie stared at Lizbeth in disbelief, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "Get...Out!" Lizbeth screamed before she was overcome with pain once more.

"Go!" Henry shouted at Maggie sternly, "Go back to Stourton. She doesn't want you here. Go."

As Henry continued to comfort his wife, Maggie walked out of the birthing room with a saddened look on her face.

Lizbeth screamed at the top of her lungs, wailing as she continued to push.

Soon enough, her child was born and Lizbeth became concerned when she heard no cry.

"Bring the child to me," Margaret demanded in a stern tone, "Bring him to me."

"What is it?" Lizbeth asked worriedly as they laid her back down on the bed, "Is it healthy? Is it breathing?"

"It's a boy, Mother," Meg told Lizbeth, beginning to cry since the child wasn't alive. She sat down beside her mother, grabbing Lizbeth's hand as she continued to cry.

After blessing the child, Margaret wrapped the lifeless body in a small cloth before turning to face Lizbeth.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Lizbeth questioned, a deeply concerned look on her face, "He's dead."

Leaning downwards, Henry pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead as she began to sob. "I want to hold him, please let me hold him," Lizbeth pleaded and as she quietly cried, Margaret made her way over to Lizbeth while holding the woman's stillborn child.

She placed the lifeless baby boy in his mother's arms as Lizbeth, Henry, and Meg cried. After a few moments, Margaret took the child back.

Lizbeth rested against Henry, continued to cry with her eyes closed. "I will be with Arthur by nightfall," She managed to get out and both Henry and Meg were quick to tell her not to say such things.

"No, Mother," Meg cried out, shaking her head pleadingly.

"I have to take our baby boy to Heaven and reunite with Arthur and see my brothers," Lizbeth spoke up, turning to look up at Henry as he held her close, "I pray to God that I am forgiven for my sins."

"Do not talk like this, Lizbeth," Henry pleaded, refusing to let Lizbeth die, not after everything they had gone through together.

"Tell Maggie," Lizbeth spoke up, beginning to cry, "Tell her I am sorry for all the pain I have caused. There is not a day that passes that I do not regret what I did to wrong my family."

"No, you will tell her yourself," Henry argued in a stern tone, "I am the king and I command you to stay strong and survive this. You will be well and live a long and happy life with me, Lizbeth. Twenty-three years is surely not enough for us."

"A year longer than what my mother and father had together," Lizbeth spoke up softly, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Ah!" She screamed out, feeling a sharp pain in her gut, "Henry, it hurts. It hurts so much. Please, make it stop."

Henry's lips parted, trying to contain his tears as he turned to Meg. "Meg, go fetch your brother and sisters," He insisted and Meg nodded, rushing out of the room.

She sprinted down the hallway, screaming for Harry and Kathy.

    Inside the birthing room, Henry knelt beside Lizbeth's dying body. He cried as he grasped her hand in his, unable to hide his sadness anymore. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Lizbeth, not after everything they had been through together. Twenty-three years was not enough for him.

"There has never been another for me. Nor will there ever be. You are the love of my life, Lizbeth," Henry spoke up softly, choking back a sob.

Lizbeth gasped as she closed her eyes, images of her family plaguing her minds, those she had lost and forced to forget.

"I would be alone with you, Henry," Lizbeth demanded as she found herself surrounded by midwives.

"Leave us, please," Henry demanded and the three midwives immediately obeyed.

___

"Mother!" Meg had called out as she, Harry, Kathy, and Mary ran down the hallway as fast as they could to their mother's dying bed.

Kathy felt horrible. Just like with Arthur, Kathy had ill-wished her mother and hoped her to die and now, it was happening.

She didn't actually mean it.

Perhaps she did at the moment she said it, but not anymore. Lizbeth was still her mother. Even if she despised the choices her mother made and how she treated her children, she was still her mother. Now, she was dying and the last thing Kathy recalled was getting into argument with her mother that led to her getting smacked.

____

"He cannot marry her," Lizbeth whispered to Henry softly as she tightly clutched Henry's hand, "He cannot marry Marie. She will be the end of you all. I just know it, Henry. The marriage between my father and mother brought the end of the York dynasty. Do not let Marie and Henry's union bring about the same to our dynasty. I beg of you, Henry. He cannot marry her. If he does, the Tudor line will end. The shadow of the Tudor curse casts a shadow upon us all but a marriage between our son and Marie will ensure that it happens to them as well."

"Stop now," Henry pleaded, crying as he spoke to her, "You are delirious, my love. You do not know what you are saying."

"Henry," Lizbeth whispered to her husband softly, gesturing for him to move closer to her.

He obeyed her, allowing her to whisper into his ear. Once she finished, Henry pulled away from Lizbeth, a horrified look on his face. "What?" He asked and began to sob as Lizbeth placed a hand on the side of his face, "Why, Lizbeth? Why would you ask such a thing of me? I will not—"

"You must," Lizbeth pleaded, beginning to cry as well as she spoke in a whisper, "Please, Henry. For me, you must."

"What will I do without you, Lizbeth?" Henry cried out, his forehead pressing against hers.

Lizbeth smiled weakly, staring into Henry's eyes as she softly cried. "Live a little while longer," She whispered to him and Henry smiled sadly, "I have loved you, Henry. Oh, have I loved you. Ever since the day we met as children. It didn't matter what you did, I always loved you and if there is a life after this, I swear to you, I shall love you then as well. You must promise me, though. Promise me you will do what I ask of you."

"Lizbeth, please. I love you. Do not ask this of me," Henry pleaded softly and before Lizbeth could reply, she could hear someone calling out to her in the distance.

"Mother?" was all Lizbeth had said before she took her last breath.

Henry's eyes widened, watching as Lizbeth's eyes became lifeless and her body still. "Lizbeth?" He called out in a whisper, only to get no answer.

"No," He cried out, shaking his head pleadingly, "No, don't go. Lizbeth, please don't go..." He trailed off, beginning to sob as he leaned against her and grieved over his beloved's death.

"Father?" Kathy called out as she was the first one to enter the room.

She rushed forward, only to cry out as she laid eyes upon her mother's corpse. She didn't get to apologize.

"No," Kathy cried out, shaking her head, "No, no, no. Mother!" She fell to her knees, clutching her stomach as she screamed out.

Mary and Meg cried as they sat at their mother's bedside, grieving their mother's death.

Harry knelt beside Kathy at the foot of their mother's bed. He didn't cry out, but tears filled his eyes as they laid upon his mother's corpse. He was stunned speechless.

He thought she would have been fine as she was taken away by his father after she had gone into her labor.

Harry turned to Kathy, grabbing ahold of his sister as she sobbed loudly. She was taking the death nearly as hard as their father.

She thought it to be her own fault.

Harry hugged her and Kathy dug her face into his chest, screaming and crying and everything in between as she grieved her mother's death.

Her mother was gone.

Elizabeth Plantagenet, the last living child of Edward and Nora was now dead. After forty-four years on this earth, she was gone. Just like the rest of her family.

Was it all worth it, had been the last thing Lizbeth had asked herself as she laid dying. Was Henry and the throne worth losing everyone she ever truly loved?

She never truly got that question answered and now, she never would. She was dead, just like her mother.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

RIP Lizbeth. You gotta admit, most of y'all might hate Lizbeth by now but it's kinda sad to see her go 😭 Most of you have been reading since the first book. We remember when she was born. We watched her be born and grow into an adult more than ANY of Nora's children and now, she's dead. The last of Nora and Edward's children together.