The Sunne in Splendour: A War of the Roses Timeline
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
We just have to see how England will react to losing their holdings on the continent.
Margaret is incredibly shrewd, between her, Anne and Louis I can see the French doing quite well for themselves...
I'm being slightly nicer towards the French in this timeline considering everything I've done in the other one.
July 1474.
July 1474. Westminster Castle, England.
In the days following the arrival of the French news, Madeleine felt as if everyone was hissing at her, looking at her through the corner of their eyes with so much hate and derision when only weeks earlier, they looked at her with nothing but adoration. She wondered if that is how her cousin, Marguerite de Anjou, felt when she first came to England, her marriage a treaty that saw the English lose Maine.
How fickle are the people? It was not her fault that her brother proved himself as tricky as a fox, it was not her fault that Margaret of York had decided to throw her lot with her husband. It was not her fault. She had never wanted to come to England and married Edward but she had and ever since then, Madeleine had not set her eyes on French soil.
And if they were upset with the loss of the continental holdings, the last remnants of the Angevin Empire, so was she. Calais and the Norman cities might have cost much to maintain, but they were a matter of pride for the people, a reminder of the great holdings once held by Richard the Lionheart and a hundred others English heroes.
One day, after Mass, when the loss of Calais and the Norman cities completed a fortnight, Madeleine turned to Lady Richmond in the privacy of her rooms. “What can I do?” she asked, desperate. “I tire of being stared at wherever I go, I tire of being disrespected by my subjects.”
“Her Grace must ignore them,” said Lady Richmond. “Soon enough, they will find something else to anger them. The people of England are easily led and soon enough, something else shall offend them.”
“It’s been two weeks already,” said Madeleine, throwing herself on a divan dramatically. “The people hate me, after all I’ve done for this country and the House of York.”
“It’s easier to blame Her Grace than to blame their kinsmen lost in Calais,” Lady Rivers responded, belly large with her second child. “But Lady Richmond is right. Soon enough, they will find something else to be offended by.”
“How soon is that?” asked Madeleine. “Do they think I am happy about this? I know how important those cities were to national pride.” She licked her lips, shaking her head. “I tell you, my ladies. When I am dead and opened, you shall find Calais engraved on my heart, but because I was born in France, none shall believe me if I say so.”
Lady Richmond sat beside her. “Then prove you are not French anymore,” she said. “Prove you are one of them, as English as them all, deeply heartbroken by the loss of the continental holdings.”
“How can I do that?” she asked. Lady Richmond answered her with an eager smile. “And how will I make that possible?”
Lady Richmond looked at Lady Rivers, who had taken a seat near a table to put the weight off her swollen pregnant feet. “If all of Her Grace’s ladies work together, I believe we can have the garment done in three days' time.”
Madeleine smiled. “Perfect.’
--
Edward was listening intently in the late morning to petitions of court. Women who denounced their husbands for mistreatment, widows who asked for help against their stepchildren, orphans searching for their fathers’ lands lost during the war. With the loss of the Earl of Warwick, the politics in the kingdom ran less smoothly than they did in the past. Edward was still searching for someone who would assist him as his cousin had once done.
If he wished to be honest, Edward would admit that he was slightly distracted, waving his hand to confirm the request of the few lucky enough to receive his full attention in the fleeting moments he was able to muster them. Without Warwick and the loss of Calais, he felt depressed and hopeless.
He had taken the throne to right the wrongs of the Lancastrians, to bring England back to her days of glory and now, he saw the end of the Angevin hold on the continent. Not even Henry had managed that.
“Queen Madeleine of England!” announced the herald and Edward raised his head, as he was leaning his forehead on his closed fist and looked to the double doors of the throne room. A gasp arose from the crowd, his lords and ladies gathered together to see him dispense the King’s justice.
“Oh, Sweet Jesu,” he heard someone say. “It’s the English coat of arms.”
Edward felt his own breath being taken away. She wore a dress of velvet and wool, red and blue opposing each other. Most of her body under the dress was covered by a white fabric as if she were a penitent nun, only her face and hands exposed. In her rich garment, someone had carefully embroidered passant lions and French fleur-de-lyses with golden thread and her billowing sleeves had been embroidered with silver thread in the shape of white roses. She looked like a fiery angel as she moved, the precious materials of her garments catching the light. Atop her head, she wore a golden crown with white roses and fleur-de-lys as befitted the Queen of England.
He saw his wife’s shoulders move as she took a deep breath, Madeleine crossing the long corridor to him in quick and determined steps. When she was right before him, she threw herself down to her knees. “Your Grace, I beg your pardon for the offence I have made towards your person.”
He frowned. “And what offence is that, my lady?”
“The loss of Calais, Rouen, Fécamp, Lillebonne and Dieppe ache me just as much as they do any other Englishwoman, but to know that it was my own kin who caused so much harm to my people grieves me even more,” she said. “I ask you to pardon me with your utmost grace and mercy, my lord, for I knew nothing of my brother’s plans and would’ve done anything I could to prevent it had I known.”
He smiled. His wife truly was the most intelligent woman in the court. He stood up and offered her a hand, observing the careful way she stood up, a place in her belly as if to support herself. “There is nothing to forgive, my lady,” said Edward.
Madeleine smiled at him and looked around them, the entire court staring at them. “I am English,” she said in a high and clear voice. “I have lived and bled for this land that welcomed me so openly ten years ago. My loyalty is not to Paris or the Maison de Valois, but to my husband and the Kingdom of England.” She looked at Edward, her face flushed with the exertion of speaking such words with so much strength. “By me, your king has had many children. English children, sprouted forth from my womb. My love and affection belong to them, as it belongs to their new brother that grows inside of me.” She put her hand on her flat belly. Edward felt his heart speed up, his mouth slightly parted in awe.
“My newest son, as English as his mother and father,” said Edward, placing his hand over hers. Although her belly remained flat, he thought he could feel a mass underneath the layers of cloth, though perhaps he was only imagining it. “We will call him Edmund, after my brother and the great Anglo-Saxon king who fought against the Danish when they tried to take our lands.”
A polite round of applause rose from the court. Edward smiled and brought the hand he was holding to his lips, pressing a loving kiss to her knuckles.
“And from this day forth,” his wife continued, “I wish to be known as Magdalena, Queen of England.”
“Long live Queen Magdalena!” someone shouted.
“Long live Queen Magdalena!”
I will never not love Madeleine, or should I say Magdalena’s, cleverness and tact. She knew she was losing her grasp on the court and she won it right back with a show of English patriotism. We love to see it. The Lancaster Pretender’s gonna have a fun time trying to dislodge Edward/Magdalena now since they’re going strong and Magdalena is continuing to show divine approval for Houde York by bringing about heirs.
You go Magdalena! You exploit all the varied resources of medieval queenship: of peace weaver, public female intersession, consort-ishness of the king and fruitful continuing of God's favour of the royal house through bearing legitimate heirs of England! You go girl! 🥳
Truly, despite their military losses, the House of York has never stood stronger.
Magdalena is awesome.
I see what you did there, that's Mary I's quote.
Awww good on Madeline (or rather Magdalena) on her works to solidify the people's sentiment towards her.
Alright, okay. This is still the queen we're talking about. Chill down with the comments.
