Well, Magdalena would probably be more accepted as regent than Elizabeth Woodville would be.
The Sunne in Splendour: A War of the Roses Timeline
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
As England had ZERO tradition of female regencies, Gloucester will be the Regent NOT Magdalena
It depends on whether Edward and Gloucester can reconciled, also there are examples of English queens serving as regent while their husband still lived (though definitely not for a minor son)
Not necessarily. The most preeminent and closer example who we have of a Regency for a King unable to rule is the one of Henry VI and the Duke of York was out of favour and almost powerless at the start of the crisis and still got the role of regent so here will be either Edward of Wales or Richard of Gloucester
Ned is sixteen. Wasn't fourteen often seen as the age a young king could be without a regent? Obviously, Edward isn't even dead yet and may not die for quite some time, but I don't see Ned needing a regent. He seems well old enough. It's not like today where, you're not considered an adult until you're 18.
October 1481.
October 1481. Farleigh Hungerford, England.
Richard met Cate’s eyes as she sewed by the hearth, her pink mouth twisted in displeasure. He sighed, crossing and uncrossing his legs in his seat and set his book down, looking over at her properly.
“Go on,” he said and Cate, who had turned away sheepishly, looked at him again. “Out with it. Tell me what is on your mind.”
Her needle moved far away from her embroidery hoop, arm stretching to pull the thread. “There is nothing in my mind, husband,” Cate answered. Richard smiled at her coyness, because he knew how false it really was. Cate had been his wife for many years and, at twenty-three years of age, remained just as beautiful as she always had been, though her golden curls were now hidden by her oppressive headdress.
He arched his brows and Cate smiled again, shaking her head.
"I think you ought to go," she whispered. "It's a royal command, my love."
"Bah," Richard groaned out. "Royal commands could have worked on anyone else, but not on me."
Cate rolled her eyes. "Then I say that he is your brother and he is calling for you." She set her sewing down. "He probably wishes to reconcile while he still has strength in him."
Richard stood up and walked around the room, practically pacing. "The King is strong," he said. "He is not even forty. He will survive this illness as he did all the others." In truth, Richard didn’t know if he was saying this for Cate or for himself. He might be angry with his brother, but Edward was still his kin. His children had a need of him, as did the realm. Richard didn't want him to die.
"Of course," said Cate, "And when he does, His Grace shall be greatly offended that you refused to visit him in his sickbed. It could cost you dearly, husband."
"Cost me?" Richard laughed, a high and fake sound that made him cringe. "We haven't paid our fine yet, my dear, and Edward's steward is always quick to remind us of that."
Cate stood up and walked to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He sighed, leaning back to knock their heads together. "What is a fine and debts between brothers?" she asked. Her chin touched the soft part of his upper back. “It’s possible that the King may die because of this disease and if he does, may the Lord prevent that, you will have missed your chance to reconcile with him.” She paused and Richard took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “Will you be able to live with that?”
For a long moment, no one spoke. And then… “I want you to come with me. All must know that you are my wife and the Duchess of Gloucester.” Cate nodded. Richard sighed and shook his head. “Have the men prepare our things so we may go to London.”
Cate nodded. “I will,” she said.
It's what I wonder. Whether Ned will be seen as immature enough to need a regent.
I think it's the fact that he will never forgive himself if Edward dies while they are still at odds that makes him go. And thankfully, Cate knows him and pointed that out.
Yeah, that will stay and eat at you until the grave.
Can't wait to see the reconciliation.
Ooh nice that Cate at least has a good solution for her husband's issues, I think that Richard coming to Edward may convince him that his brother didn't need to be punished, or at least he'll reduce the fine to something more managable. There is of course the possibility that this dosen't happen and Richard's nephew/Madgalena may do it as a gesture of good will towards him instead.
I couldn't reach a final decision on the matter so let's leave it as a question mark for now.
Totally forgot about this. He is annoying continental european rulers as he always did, trying to find some backing. I still don't know who should fund him so if anyone wanna make a case for either England, Portugal or Castile... feel free.
November 1481.
November 1481. Westminster Palace, England.
The air was sombre around the King’s bed. Over the weeks, the physicians grew more and more desperate in their attempts to cure his sickness, letting all who came to visit know that he was dying. Edward especially. They couldn’t deny it to him, who felt the sickness growing and rising from deep in his stomach. He knew he was in his last days, had known for a very long time and though he’d never admit it, Edward knew that he had to make them count.
They brought the children to him. Ed, Dickon, Lionel and the girls. At some point in the night, he called out for his favoured child Magdalene, only for the Queen to tell him that she had left for Bohemia in the previous year. Then, he called for Lionel again. His youngest trueborn child, the boy of just four years of age with his blonde curls and green eyes, sat in his bed and he weakly raised his arm to stroke his face and hair.
“Poor boy,” Edward whispered. Lionel clinged to the hem of his gown, frowning almost as if he was about to cry. “You will not remember me.”
Richard placed his hand over Edward’s shoulder. “He will, brother,” said the Duke of Gloucester. “You will soon recover, I swear it.”
“Oh, Richard,” Edward mumbled out. He looked back at his son, who did not know him very well. None of the younger children did in truth, but Lionel especially. Magdalena kept him close at all times and the King never really cared to prevent that. Lionel was the Queen’s favourite child and Edward had other things to worry about. “Sweet boy, you must be good to your mother, do you hear me? Obey her every command.”
Lionel began to weep, sticking his fingers inside his mouth as he babbled out, “Mama!” Edward closed his eyes, the sound of the boy’s crying ringing in his head and the Queen stepped forward to take him in her arms. When Edward opened his eyes again, Richard was sitting by his side and the Dowager Duchess of York was there too, hands tightly wrapped around a rosary as she prayed. Richard was holding her hand.
“Mother…” the King breathed and Duchess Cecily opened her eyes.
“Oh, my boy,” his mother said, standing up to cup his face. “I’m here. Mother is here to care for you.” She leaned forward and Edward remembered how his mother never wept for the siblings that he lost in childhood. Little Henry, Ursula, Thomas, William and John. But she wept for Edmund and George too, in her own way.
“Where is the Queen?” he asked. His mother stroked his face, sitting at the foot of his bed.
“The Queen is without,” said Richard. “She has to attend to some important matters.”
His mother scoffed. “That whore of yours wishes to visit you, my love,” she said in a biting tone. “The Queen is there to prevent it.”
Edward closed his eyes. He had a terrible headache. “Mother, please,” Richard said, his voice flying through the room. “Let us not speak of such subjects.”
“Yes, you’re right,” said the Dowager Duchess. “You’re absolutely right.” Edward felt her hand on his face again. “It will be alright, my sweet Ted. Mother is here.”
When Edward opened his eyes again, his mother had left and Magdalena was by his side again, praying deeply. He saw that William Hastings was there as well with a forlorn face, and the Duke of Buckingham and his wife, Eleanor Percy.
Edward shifted in his bed. “Find me a paper and a quill,” he breathed out and all eyes turned to him. “I wish to write my will.”
“Do not strain yourself,” the Queen said, standing to touch his shoulder. “Recover your strength.”
Edward shook his head. He could feel his strength wafting off of him every passing moment. The physicians had applied leeches to his chest and made cuts on his arms to bleed him, and he could feel the little creatures sucking away at his skin. William Hastings offered him paper and a quill, but Edward had strength enough only to sign his name at the end. So, he handed the objects back to Magdalena, whom he trusted to see his orders done.
“In the name of the most holy and blessed trinity, I, Edward, by the grace of God King of England and France, Lord of Ireland, leave the kingdom and all my lands to my trueborn son, Edward of Eltham and his heirs,” he began to dictate. “After him, England shall be inherited by Richard, Duke of York and his heirs, Edmund, Duke of Clarence and his heirs and then, Lionel, Duke of Bedford and his heirs. Should they not produce surviving children, the throne must thus pass to the eldest surviving son of one of my trueborn daughters.” The Queen raised her eyes as she continued to write down his command, William Hastings standing behind her. “The debt of my brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester is hereby forgiven.” Richard squeezed his shoulder in thanks and the Duke of Buckingham stepped closer to observe the situation. “My wife, Queen Magdalena, must enjoy the same allowance and standing as she did in my lifetime with the lands of Devonshire and any other that my executors find necessary.” He named his sixteen executors as well, rattling off the names of those he trusted the most. His brother Richard, the Baron Hastings and the Duke of Buckingham were some of them. “The guardianship of my underage children must be given to the Queen Magdalena, and their marriages must not happen without an accord between her and my ruling heir.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “It is my wish that my trueborn son and heir, Prince Edward start his rule in the moment of my death, foregoing the need for a regency and protectorate despite his tender age of sixteen.”
He continued to speak well into the night, detailing plans for his funeral and burial at St George’s Chapel in Windsor. Magdalena squeezed his hand for Edward had long made arrangements for a sarcophagus to be built in marble where they’d be buried together. It was almost morning when he stopped at last, mouth dry and queasy and all rubbed their eyes in an attempt to not appear tired before the dying king. Edward would have laughed, had he possessed the strength for it.
Instead, he said, “Be good to each other. Work together to advise Prince Edward.” The Lancastrians were no longer a threat, with Ned married to their last heiress, but Edward would be stupid to not think his son would have difficulty ascending to and keeping the throne. Someone stirred by the door and he saw his mother entering, and the Duchess of Gloucester walking beside her. “You are all my kin, my friends and I trust you. Set aside your petty differences in the name of our boy.”
His wife squeezed his hand again. “I promise,” she said, looking at the people present. “I shall work with you all to place Prince Edward on the throne.”
Edward closed his eyes, nodding as he felt satisfied that they’d obey his wishes. Finally, he felt ready to die.
And so he did.