Let's chill. No one is happy but I swear, Ana and her baby will be fine.
The Sunne in Splendour: A War of the Roses Timeline
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
That came up in mine today as well! Creepy! I never watch those kind of videos anyways…
We'll see. She's around four months now so by may, she'll be ready to pop.
Oh i thought they meant vampire twilight and I was like "I watched all movies. What are you talking about?"
Honestly I cannot stand those movies. Yeah that is what I was talking about!
Sorry. I thought you were talking about the Twilight Zone Theme from the Sixties. Sorry about that...
That is what I was talking about… Sorry if I didn’t make myself clear.
February 1475.
February 1475. Eltham Palace, England.
Her pains began late in the morning when she was playing a card game with her Bourbon cousins, Jeanne and Gabrielle. Magdalena observed as her other ladies rushed to prepare everything for her to give birth, mindful of the short period of labour that she was prone to experiencing. As they fluttered about like frightened hens, she moved to lay on the bed, hands atop her belly as her waters slowly trickled down her thighs.
The midwife arrived only a few minutes later, surrounded by her attendants, but still, it took another hour for the Queen to be ready to begin pushing. They helped her remove her heavy dress and put on a new and fresh white shift, her hair braided to keep away from her face.
Magdalena had already run out of patience when, at long last, they helped her sit on the birthing chair, pulling her shift up to expose her legs and her swollen belly. She held onto Jeanne and Gabrielle’s hands as she finally began to push, a scream torn out from her throat.
Although it still hurt just as hard as the first time, Magdalena could tell that her labour did not last as long as it once did. It felt like only minutes had passed once she began pushing and the pain stopped, the child sliding out of her and into the waiting arms of the midwife. The cry that rose was hearty and healthy, born from a pair of strong lungs.
“A son, my lady,” announced one of her ladies. Magdalena sagged against the chair, taking in deep shuddering breaths, her skin flushed and sweaty. “A healthy and bonny son!”
“Edmundus,” she called out. “The King and I wish to name him Edmund!”
The midwife wrapped him a square of clean linen before handing her son over. Magdalena sobbed happily as she took Edmund in her arm, observing his wrinkly and red little face. He had a thick layer of fluids over his thin tuft of hair and she had to take in a big gulping breath before she pressed a kiss to his face, holding him close.
“Precious boy,” she whispered. “You’re so handsome, my beautiful and precious boy.” She kissed him again. “My sweet Edmund.”
The boy said nothing, eyes wide open as he looked around him. He had dark eyes and thin little eyebrows that seemed barely present, with thin pink lips. He was handsome and he was hers. Magdalena kissed him again.
--
“Are you sure?” asked Lady Hastings. The nurse nodded, face ashen. “No sleep? Not at all?”
“Not at all, my lady,” said Frances, who was assigned the role of watching over the royal daughters while they slept. “The Princess hardly slept through the night and what little sleep she did get, was interrupted by her constant nightmares. Lady Catherine is utterly afraid of falling asleep again for she does not wish to see those terrible images again..”
Katherine Neville, the governess of the royal children, said nothing. She chewed on her lower lip, wringing her hands together. Little Catherine of York, one of her charges, had been bereft by nightmares since the Woodville insurrection and the death of her little brother. Katherine had tried everything she knew to help her, including staying with her through the night and waking the princess when she felt she was entering a nightmare, giving her warm milk at night to help her sleep. She knew not what to do anymore.
Catherine hardly slept during the night for many months, holding on by taking long naps during the day that would affect her schooling. The Queen had told Lady Hastings before she entered her confinement to solve this problem, making it clear that if she couldn’t, she would find someone who could to take up her place as governess. Now that Prince Edmund had been born, it was only a matter of time before Lady Hastings found herself without a position which meant she had to find a solution for Catherine’s issues.
“Very well, Frances,” said Lady Hastings. “Take the Princess to her Latin lessons. I will find a way to solve this before the night and we shall speak later.” Frances nodded and made a curtsy before she turned to find Catherine and bring her to her tutor.
Lady Hastings sighed and rubbed her forehead. She knew not what to do anymore.
With another frustrated sigh, she moved away, leaving the nursery and walking through the corridors of Eltham Palace. She hoped that the movement would rouse her mind and give her new ideas. It was when she reached the room with the older children that she finally stopped.
Ceci and Dickon shared a French tutor, but they didn’t seem to be too busy at the moment, the man kneeling before Dickon’s desk as he read something the Duke of York had written. Princess Cecily, who was easily distracted, was stroking the long grey neck of Guinefort, the family dog, and kissing his snout.
Katherine pursed her lips and turned, returning to her room where she sat before her desk and picked up a fresh sheet of paper to write.
To the honourable Master Lucas,
Over the past month, I heard word that you are a known breeder of type of dog that is described as large and protective as well as possessing a docile, but courageous temperament. A dog that you like to call Mastie, or mastiff. It’s my desire to gift Lady Catherine of York, the King’s third daughter, with one of your dogs, preferably one that is already trained to stand guard and to be gentle with young children.
The price is no problem since the receiver of this dog would be the King’s own child.
I await your response,
Lady Hastings.
When she was done and the ink was dry, Katherine Neville stood up and walked to one of her page boys and instructed him where to take her message. “This must be received and read today,” she told him. “I await the response before the evening.”
The boy nodded. “Yes, my lady,” he said.
Katherine watched him leave with a quick run, wringing her hands as she worried her teeth on her lower lip. She only hoped the dog would help Catherine feel safer and comfortable in her own bed. Otherwise, she didn’t know what to do.
For now, he isn't gonna get anything, since his brother's death is still so dearly felt.
Yes! Baby Edmund is finally here! And I really hope that dog helps Catherine to feel safe in the future.