The prodigals have returned, Edward has said before he hugs Warwick and then George. It was an interesting sight, to say the least. George seems like he wants to vomit.
For Warwick, my judgement is clear. He is a snake and I hate him. A part of me can understand him. The Rivers are merciless in their enmity. I know that the Queen has always poisoned my brother's ears against Warwick. Edward, being foolishly in love, has continuously shamed our cousin who has put him in the throne. However, Warwick has broken the bond of York brothers and ruin the reputation of my mother. Therefore, I cannot forgive him.
I am not sure what to think and feel for George. He is my brother yet act like Judas. After all that we have been through together, losing our father, brother, and so many kinsmen, I have always believe that the three of us will always be together to fight the world. Yet, he betrays it all. He has even let Warwick spread the gossip that Edward is an illegitimate and our mother is a whore.
I want to hate him yet I cannot. He is my brother. We were together in exile in Burgundy when we were just children and I once cling to him as my protector.
The Neville women had just come from the carriage. They look pale like lambs ready to be slaughtered. I feel sympathy for them. Thank God I am a man who can make my own choice. Women are always to follow their fathers or husbands.
Isabel is the palest one with her hand on her swelling belly. Anne Neville stands next to her to support her as if she worries that her sister will fell on the ground. Her blue eyes looking at Isabel with worry and protectiveness. The little sister becomes the protector of the older one.
Anne was only twelve years old but she looks so much older now. Her eyes now seem more guarded and oddly it reminds me of the eyes of wolf cubs. It does not help that her father can indeed be a merciless wolf.
Her body starting to show the feminine curves. I wonder whether it is the same girl that once told me that she never want to marry me and wish that I marry an old lady. I always feel amused every time I remember the little girl being prideful because Edward refused our betrothal. Now, with her green gown, auburn hair, and protective stance, she seems like a strong oak tree with deep roots. The keeper of his sister.
XXXX
My brother's wife keeps the Neville sisters as her ladies in waiting. She acts so cold to them as if they are not even there. Everyone notice this. Some say they deserve it for being the daughters of a traitor, neglecting the fact that Anne and Isabel did not have any choice.
I find my dislike toward the Queen grows. I once admire her beauty but this woman is so vain. She is possessive of everything including my brother. She does not mind Edward's mistresses because they come and go. Yet, she dislikes those who has his true affections, including myself.
She trust only her family. She divides people on those with her and against her as if no one can have his own independent thinking. His sons have tried to befriend me but I reject them. Their idea of having fun are drinking and whoring. I am not Edward. God knows I love Edward but his weakness for women has caused too much troubles. Unlike him, I do not intend to be drowned with the Riverses.
I find myself looking at Anne Neville frequently. We only talk several times after she returns to the court and mostly only the formal greetings. I have always been fond of her. She listened attentively to my Camelot stories during our time in Middleham. She understands my dream to be the best knight in the land. In the past, she always looks at me with admiration. Someone who really looks at me while other keep on comparing my short height with Edward and George tall statures.
I have an enduring pain in my back. The physicians told me that I have a deformity in my back that makes one shoulder higher than the other. It was not very noticeable and I can easily hide it with appropriate clothing. Yet the constant pain is often unbearable.
There are times when I don't think I can continue my military training and then I remember of a pair of beautiful blue eyes looking at me with full trust and wonder. Now the light on her eyes dimes as the Warwick family becomes part of the jokes in court.
"Lady Anne," I call on her when she walks pass me without saying anything. She curtseys while I bow to her.
"I am sorry Your Grace. I did not see you," she says and somehow I dislike that words.
"You must be thinking too much that even I become invisible for you." She blushes shyly. Her rosy face entices me. She is a rose bud ready to blossom.
"I believe all is well for you Your Grace."
"I believe so. How about you Lady Anne? Are you well? What is worrying you?"
Her eyes suddenly become guarded. Once again she reminds me of a wolf cub sensing danger against her life. Dangerous and yet adorable.
I smile to her, trying to gain her trust. "You can tell me little Anne. We are friends?"
I look with wonder as her eyes glistening after hearing my words. She is biting her lips, stopping herself from sharing her pain. Then the sadness becomes so apparent in her face that I have to stop myself from taking her into my arms.
It only take seconds before the little Anne changes into a lady as yet unknown. She blinks once. She raises her head high and then looks at me with defiance. More wonderful, when angels are so angry.
"I am Lady Anne Neville. My father is the leader of the North. My sister is a royal duchess. How can I not be well Your Grace?"
She walks pass me and I find my heart hammering. The twelve year old girl enchants me with her resilience. Undoubtedly she will be a strong woman. A woman worth of any great man.
She still have some time before becoming a fully grown woman. Years that can be wisely used to repair the rift between Edward and the Neville family. When that time come, I will ask Anne Neville to be my wife.
XXXX
"Anne Neville is to marry Edward of Lancaster."
I wonder whether I am dreaming. That just don't make sense. Anne with that Lancaster monster? The boy has ordered beheading since he was only seven-year-old.
She is meant to be with me. She cannot be that monster's wife.
I try to focus my mind on the political implications of this horrifying revelation. We have to win. Anne has to be saved. Edward of Lancaster has to die.
When we win and this war is over, she will always be safe. I will do anything to gain her love. She will be my wife and nothing will take her away from my arms.
