The Sunne in Splendour: A War of the Roses Timeline

Good Edward, wallow in your shame and loneliness! He can’t be too upset about his marriage if he is STILL fathering children out of wedlock!
 
March 1478.
March 1478. Nancy, Lotharingia.

Charles shivered as he walked into the throne room, followed by his mother and her advisors. It had been over a year since his father died and yet, he still wasn’t used to the idea of being King of Lotharingia. He was just eleven years old, not even of age by Canon law and he couldn’t believe he ruled over such vast tracts of land in Europe. Yes, his mother did rule as regent in his place until he reached the age of eighteen as was his father’s wish, but she did it in his name. He still had to sign some of her orders, to stamp it and his hands trembled in fear every time he had to.

He climbed into the King’s old throne, wearing his best cloth-of-gold hose and his golden coronet as he still wasn’t crowned. Besides his advisors and his lady mother, there were some of his courtiers present, staring at him with serious eyes that made him want to run to his rooms in fear. The English ambassador bowed before him when he finally sat down, his mother taking a small chair beside him and Charles nodded at him to start speaking.

“Your Grace,” said the brother to the Earl of Rivers, Edward Woodville, who was pardoned after his brother Anthony’s failed rebellion against the King of England. “May I be the first to offer you a good morning this merry Monday?”

Charles nodded. “Good morning, master Woodville,” said the King, as his mother instructed him to do. “I believe you will have quite the merry Monday.” He stopped to take a deep breath. Charles was painfully shy and the sight of all of his nobles staring at him made him want to cry. He wondered if Filip would ever feel such fear, which he didn’t think so, since Filip was braver than anyone he ever met. His brother was just eight and already could ride a horse perfectly, speak French and Dutch with fluency and was already deep into his Latin studies. Charles knew his father wished Filip was his heir, and maybe he would have been a better king, but the Lord made him heir to all of the Burgundian lands. “It is my decision to maintain my betrothal to Lady Cecily of York, as was agreed between my lord father and the King of England.”

The betrothal with Marguerite de Lorraine would cost him more than it would gain, especially since René d’Anjou had died and taken the promise of a willed-over Bar with him. Cecily of York came with a dowry and no threat of a war with Austria or England. Charles and his mother, mostly his mother, had decided it was best to maintain the betrothal with her.

Edward Woodville smiled and bowed, clearly happy to write about the good news to his king. Charles took a deep breath and felt his mother’s hand squeeze his wrist in a comforting measure.

“However,” Charles continued and the claps that had risen from the witnesses quickly stopped, eyes turning back to him, “It is my desire to regain the lands that Louis de Valois stole from me.” Picardy, Artois and Eu were a great desire of every man in Lotharingia, the stolen counties that ought to be regained by the threat of a military force. “With a promise of military assistance in a coming war, I would be pleased to marry her upon my fourteenth birthday.”

“Your Grace, though it would please my king greatly to see his daughter as the Queen of Lotharingia, what would endear him to entering a foreign war?” asked Edward Woodville.

Charles hesitated. They hadn’t prepared for this and he didn't know what to say, how to convince the English to join their war. Thankfully, his mother leaned sideways and whispered in his ear, her warm breath hitting his neck.

When she backed away, Charles turned to the English ambassador, who had arched an eyebrow in confusion. He gulped and murmured, "Your king has lost much to Louis XI and it is time to take them back, master Woodville." Charles took a deep breath. "Any lands conquered by English soldiers, save for those claimed by the Burgundians, are his. My brother-in-law, the Duke of Brittany seeks his independence and swears to join us, so we won't be alone."

When he finished, Charles chewed the inside of his cheek, observing the face of the ambassador. He betrayed nothing, none of his inner feelings and Charles waited and waited until he bowed and nodded.

The King of Lotharingia let out a relieved sigh.

--

Cary Castle, England.

A servant filled Richard’s goblet with more wine as well as Henry's, taking his leave soon after. The Duke of Somerset slowly drank, observing his friend. Richard was pensive, staring at the flames in the hearth at Henry's residence, the fire casting shadows over his face and Henry stared at him.

His friend had come to meet his godson. Arthur was now a happy lad of a year and three months old and Henry and Annie both felt it was time to baptise him, since he had already survived through the dangerous months of infancy. Their mothers were godmothers and Richard was named as his godfather, which made Francis quite jealous when Henry told them both. His other friend still came to the ceremony though, as did Hal Stafford who recently married Margaret Talbot, the daughter of the 1st Viscount Lisle.

Henry brought his goblet to his mouth, sipping some. “I hear there is talk of war again,” he murmured and Richard nodded, though he didn’t turn to look at him.

“As long as there is a healthy king in London, we will go to war against France,” said Richard. “My brother is no different than those that came before us.”

“So you don’t think the King will succeed?” Henry asked and Richard shrugged.

“Does it matter what I think?” he said. “Edward will go to war either way. He’s desperate for glory and fame, as well as extremely restless.” Richard shook his head. “Those born during war cannot abide by peacetime. It was only a matter of time before he found a reason to drag us away to the continent once more.”

Henry nodded, then shrugged. “Maybe this time, it will work,” he said. “The French king is utterly distracted by his rebellious vassals, whereas England is united. Maybe we will finally recreate the empire of our ancestors.”

“Perhaps,” said Richard, shrugging, “But they will have to do it without me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not getting younger, Harri,” said Richard. “None of us are.”

“You’re six and twenty,” Henry responded, not understanding what was going on. “You’re not exactly an old man.”

Richard sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and Henry could finally see how truly tired his friend was, how old he seemed to age at that very moment. “I won’t make old bones,” the Duke of Gloucester whispered, looking almost ashamed of himself.

“What are you saying?”

Richard shook his head, setting his goblet aside with a mournful gaze. “My back is getting worse every year,” he murmured. “The physician told me that it is already limiting my ability to breathe and one day, it will mean that any common chill might take me.”

“But this doesn’t mean it will happen tomorrow,” said Henry, disbelief clear in every word of his voice. “You may still come to France and win glory to your name before your retirement.”

“And what if I die there?” Richard asked. “My children will be orphans and anyone with an ounce of power might try to steal their wealth and custody with my passing.” He shook his head again. “And even if I go to France, they will be alone for months, maybe years and I can’t let that happen. Not this soon after Mary’s passing.”

“Not if you remarry,” said Henry. “I know it hasn’t been a year since the Duchess and your son perished, but by remarrying, your children won’t be alone. Even if you stay in England, the new duchess might relieve some of your duties and cause you to worry less for your children.”

“And who can I marry?” said Richard. “There aren’t many available matches for a man of my age.”

“You’re a royal duke,” Henry responded. “Any woman would be glad to marry you.”

Richard only looked at him without saying much. Henry wondered if his words even had an effect on him.
 
“My back is getting worse every year,” he murmured. “The physician told me that it is already limiting my ability to breathe and one day, it will mean that any common chill might take me.”
To be honest I've always wondered if Richard's scoliosis really was that bad. I seem to remember that contemporaries didn't particularly noticed it and that all that crookback thing was exaggerated after his death.
 
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To be hontest I've always wondered if Richard's scoliosis really was that bad. I seem to remember that contemporaries didn't particularly noticed it and that all that crookback thing was exaggerated after his death.
I read some reports that were quite... conflicting about it, so I'm going with what seems to me to be the most likely, considering the apparent level of his scoliosis on his skeleton. Of course, it is said that with a different type of clothes and armour, it wouldn't be noticeable and yes, the crouchback was definitely a Tudor invention.
 
Ah damn, Richard is not we.ll physically or mentally, and while I can't fault him for not wanting to remarry, Henry raises a good point, a wife could at least mean his children grow up with some semblance of family life... Great chapter as always!
 
Ah damn, Richard is not we.ll physically or mentally, and while I can't fault him for not wanting to remarry, Henry raises a good point, a wife could at least mean his children grow up with some semblance of family life... Great chapter as always!
Of course, he should remarry! It's only the matter to whom.
 
Charles probably made the correct choice here, though I hope he spares poor Marguerite of Lorraine, maybe she can live out her days in a country convent? Great chapter! One slight thing, if Arthur is over a year old, they definitely would have baptized him by this point. Catholics believed (and I believe they still believe, though I cannot say, for I am not Catholic) that infants should be baptized ASAP, so they can enter Heaven if they die.
 
Charles probably made the correct choice here, though I hope he spares poor Marguerite of Lorraine, maybe she can live out her days in a country convent? Great chapter! One slight thing, if Arthur is over a year old, they definitely would have baptized him by this point. Catholics believed (and I believe they still believe, though I cannot say, for I am not Catholic) that infants should be baptized ASAP, so they can enter Heaven if they die.
The baptism thing really seems to have varied. At one point, French royals weren’t being baptized until they were like 6 or 7 years old.
 
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