The words of the Lady Margaret drummed in her ear. "Would she not do anything to protect her children?" Night after night, Elizabeth slept fretfully trying to determine her next steps. "What is it, Lizzie, a bad dream?" Henry would ask, concern etched across his face. Elizabeth woke up wide-eyed and shaking. She heard Lady Margaret's words, but she also heard the stern warning of the Spanish ambassador, de Puebla, that the alliance between her son, Arthur, and princess Catherine of Aragon would be severed if certain guarantees were not meant. All challengers, legitimate or false, must be eliminated so that not one soul would doubt the legitimacy of King Henry's claim nor would they doubt the union of England and Spain. Spain would not send their prized princess to be wed to an illegitimate thief of the throne. Elizabeth knew what that meant, but she did not want to contemplate it.
She had already begged Henry to save the lives of both her cousin, Teddy, and the Prince Ri...the pretender, Perkin Warbeck. She had tried to avoid the inevitable, to hang some lowly delinquent in the name of the pretender, but de Puebla knew the truth. How? Maggie - it had to have been her. No longer the weeping, wilting flower, she had played the role of the spy, proffering information to the Duchess of Burgundy who, along with her coterie of conspirators, planned to overthrow the king, directly jeopardizing the future of her son.
She had to stop this. All their carefully calculated plans would be destroyed if she did not make her move. The words again of the Lady Mother again rang in her ears. She had confronted the Lady Margaret with the fact that she was a murderer, a cold-hearted woman who consented to the deaths of two innocent boys. No, two boys that threatened the reign of her son...her son who was now a king, a husband, a father.
For the longest, Elizabeth resented Henry's robbery of the throne that rightfully belonged to her brother, Richard. She and her mother initially worked together to formulate a plan to undermine Henry's rule, to be patient and bide their time until they could strike. However, as the years passed, her heart softened to him. Her mother had noticed the change very early on, particularly after Arthur's birth. There was something in her that began to feel for Henry. Somehow the idea of revenge became less palatable to her after the birth. In order for Arthur to have a chance to inherit, she realized that she and Henry needed to cooperate to ensure that he is accepted and respected by England. During this partnership, feelings, ineffable at first, began to rise slowly within her. What she had heard about the Tudors from her mother seemed an elaborate tale. Henry was not a cruel, dictatorial sovereign looking to corrupt England. In fact, he was a young ruler searching for the best ways to lead the people, to be a proper overlord for all.
She watched the guards drag Teddy, the deposed Earl of Warwick, outside on that fateful day. The boy had been locked in the Tower for years, a symbol of the repressed York rebellion. He was simple, a young, gullible man who could barely form a coherent sentence much less mastermind a plot to escape, gather forces and reignite the insurrection against the king. But he signed his name on the parchment acknowledging his treason. For that, he had to pay the ultimate price. The pretender walked with more confidence, he knew his fate but he seemed more resigned. Had he been smart enough to set aside this foolish claim and taken the offer of mercy she offered both he and his wife, her hand would not have been forced. By foolishly clinging to this charade, she had been left with no other alternative.