A Thorn In The Rose: A War Of The Roses TL

Finally the Lancastrian are over… At this point Edmund can rule in peace and his son will inherit also the Lancastrian claim by his mother as Margaret is ahead of her paternal cousins (and all the three male ones are already dead at this point)
 
Chapter 212: Kettering: The King Enjoys His Own Again

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Chapter 212: Kettering-The King Enjoys His Own Again

January, 1470


“I want letters sent to London, to York, to Canterbury, to Winchester, to Berwick, to Caernarfon, to all the great seats and towns of England announcing what has happened. I want them sent to Ireland as well.” Edmund said. “I also want letters sent to Edinburgh, to Paris, to Nantes, to Burgundy. Let the whole damned world know what has happened.”

He might be a little drunk, he could admit that to himself, but the war was over. Edward of Lancaster was dead, his mother was dead, Northumberland and his son were dead, Somerset and his brothers were dead, Clifford had died, Devon would be executed. The Lancastrians were finished. This was it.

“What about the bodies, Sire?” Essex asked. The man had served loyally, that he was still alive was a marvel.

“Bury them here.” Edmund said. He would not give them the grace of a burial in Westminster Abbey.

“Sire.” Essex replied.

“What happens now?” Edmund’s brother Thomas asked. Thomas had fought valiantly during the battle. He’d finished off Northumberland apparently, and taken down the man’s son as well. It was quite the feat of arms.

Edmund took a breath then said. “Now we rebuild. England must heal. There will be time for the trials of those who betrayed us, but for now we must act to unify the Kingdom.”

“How will you do that?” Thomas asked.

“Parliament will pass laws that will enable the reunification to take place. We will build roads; we will stimulate the economy. We will bring about reconciliation.” Edmund said. He had detailed plans but for now he would talk in broad strokes. He was tired. He could get away with that.

Thomas looked as if he was about to ask something else, so Edmund held up a hand. “I know you have questions brother, but for the time being put them to one side. They can be addressed later, when the time is right.”

Thomas sighed. “Fine, but what are we going to do now then?”

Edmund looked at Hastings who clapped his hands. Two singers approached then, alongside someone carrying a lute. The lutist started to play a melody, and the singers sang the beginning of a song that was as old as time. “Let rogues and cheats prognosticate. Concerning king's or kingdom's fate. I think myself to be as wise. As he that gazeth on the skies. My sight goes beyond. The depth of a pond. Or rivers in the greatest rain. Whereby I can tell. That all will be well. When the King enjoys his own again.

Edmund smiled as some of the men joined in on the next few lines. “Yes, this I can tell. That all will be well. When the King enjoys his own again.”

It felt good to be alive.
 
Not true. And Richard of York had recognized Henry VI as King for many years.
Yes, but then he went down the whole ‘Rightful King’ act, so he could avoid that label. Edmund would still be calling his Father a usurper by recognising Henry VI as King.
 
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