AN: I am still addicted to this story, and I felt like it deserved another update immediately because it has suddenly become the poor neglected older child vying for attention. Lol.

Part 11

Norfolk had gone impossibly dark.

That was how the keep appeared to him now. All else remained the same—the feasts in the main hall continued for his knights, the people in the village farmed, and crafted, the way they used too—but all halted and hushed when he walked by. It was in the quiet anger that reverberated through him. He knew it as he felt it, and he pulsed with restless fury that grew each day.

He had not exchanged words with his brother or his sister since the day he came home without Blair.

All that Chuck Bass had feared to lose after Bosworth—his brother Eric, his sister Serena, the castle grounds and the people of Norfolk—all of them he had back. He was assured of their safety for the interminable period that Henry VII would likely reign.

The sweating sickness swept the kingdom, sweeping entire towns until only a third of the inhabitants remained standing after a day. The illness worked fast, depleted even the strongest men. Norfolk had been blessed. In an effort to regain the duke's confidence, Sir Daniel had installed a closed door rule on the Bass holdings. To protect the people, no outsider would be allowed inside the walls.

From a passing peddler that was not allowed inside, he heard news that the Yorkist fortress of the Herberts had been hit. In a rapid and violent course of two days, a mere twenty remained of the hundred and two inhabitants of the castle.

And still, despite the fact that Chuck Bass had traded Blair Waldorf for the safety of his Herbert cousin, he did not address the massive death toll in the house of York. Truth be told, he made no effort to address anything at all.

And so it came to Serena to come to her brother in tears. "When you look at me, do you regret that I was the cause of it? Do you wish that my return did not cost you the princess?"

"Do not ask me to answer it, sister," Chuck said in quiet response. "I love you too much."

Her eyes fluttered closed as more tears rose. "I am so sorry," she declared.

His breath shuddered in his chest as he looked out the window. When he said no more, Serena turned and fled the chambers. Chuck held up his fisted hand and looked down at the beaded rosary that Blair had left on the chapel floor.

Looking out from another window, behind another castle wall, Jenny Humphrey stood in the hot, humid chamber watching the fires raze huts down in the town. She had turned away the moment the doctor raised a knife, then ran the edge over the flame of a candle. Jenny had seen it done before, to skin that had before been so flawless and beautiful. The doctor cut a thin stripe through the princess' arm, enough to let blood drip into the small basin.

"Jenny," she heard the soft call from the bed.

Even if she did not want to watch her princess bleed, Jenny Humphrey turned and walked to the side of the bed, then dropped to her knees. Her eyes were drawn to the limp arm that the doctor now held to ensure that he could draw the sickened blood from Blair's body. "My lady," Jenny pleaded, "do not speak. You must preserve your strength."

She looked up at the king, who stood in the far corner of the room with a handkerchief held to his mouth. Jenny blinked away her tears, because the princess had arrived hale and hearty from enemy hands. King Henry lifted the cloth from his mouth, then told the doctor, "Have you given her herbs and molasses?"

The doctor nodded. "I fear it is time to bleed her from between her shoulders."

"Aye."

Jenny knew the king studied the disease very closely since he arrived, but the princess already seemed teetering on the brink, the bowl halfway full with her blood. "Doctor," she said, out of turn, "does she not need her blood to recover? Surely you will not take more."

The older gentleman turned to Jenny with a patronizing smile. "This is the cure, little girl. Do not question the methods of medicine."

Jenny watched in horror as the doctor placed Blair's arm to her side, and the princess' nightgown darkened red as her arm bled to the cloth. The older man turned the princess to her side, then opened the back of the gown. Jenny flinched when Blair's ashen face tightened in pain, and knew the doctor had cut into her back.

"Does she bleed?" the king asked.

"She bleeds well and fast," assured the doctor.

"That is good. Very good, Blair," Henry murmured.

Jenny cried by the side of the bed. She looked at the princess, whom she had loved since she was old enough to remember. From an early age, when her mother first took her to the Richmond castle on a job to create clothes for the little princess, Jenny Humphrey had wanted to be like her, act like her, dress like her. Jenny Humphrey had wanted to be the beautiful little girl that everyone revered.

Princess Blair did not look beautiful at all today.

"You cannot stay here," the princess whispered. "Jenny, you must flee. You are too young for this scourge to take you."

"We are but two years apart, my lady."

Blair opened her eyes. "But it is too late for me." Jenny started to protest. "Listen, Jenny. I want you to do something for me."

"Anything!" the maid exclaimed, her voice tremulous with sincerity.

"Take Cat. Go to Norfolk." The princess' eyes squeezed shut as the wave of dizziness hit her—from the sickness, from the loss of blood, it did not matter. And then, she continued, "You must reunite with your brother. He has been broken since he lost you."

The princess had told her of the disgruntled knight the very moment they talked upon her return. But Jenny had one mission, and even longing for family would have interfered. "My lady, I must serve you."

"You and I both know, Jenny, that I will slip into a slumber from which there is no waking." Blair's eyes drifted closed. "I wish—I wish I had done so many things I did not, Jenny. I wish I had stayed there." Jenny frowned, because the princess could not possibly desire that prison. "You must go."

The words caused Jenny's throat to close, and she reached for the princess' hand to kiss. Blair pulled away with as much strength as she could. "No. We do not know how it catches. You cannot bring this illness into Norfolk."

"Leave the chambers, girl. I wish to spend a moment with the princess."

Jenny rose by the order of the king, and she curtsied, then back out. When she closed the door behind her, she burst into tears. Jenny sobbed into the sleeve of her dress. After a good long cry, her face was wet and her nose full. A handkerchief was held out to her. She took it and then recognized the lord who had returned with Henry when they sought the princess.

"Thank you."

The lord waved a hand in gesture for her to keep the cloth. "Like everyone in this accursed hell, she is dying," his voice rumbled. "I have seen forty bodies burned today, perished of the Sweat."

Jenny shook her head. Her princess could not be burned in a pile of corpses.

"I caused this to happen," he admitted quietly. "Norfolk is untouched by the disease. If it had not been for me, she would not be dying."

Yet if anyone understood commitment and loyalty to your master, it was she. "You did what your king asked of you," Jenny offered. "There is no wrong in that."

Both looked up when the door opened and king stepped outside. Nathaniel bowed low, and Jenny dropped into a curtsy. "Rise." They did, eager for the king's words. Jenny was eager to step inside and see to her mistress. The king looked at her. "My sister wished for you to go to Norfolk. Lord Archibald is tasked to take you."

"My lord," Jenny gasped, "I have sworn my life to serve the princess." She rushed to kneel in front of the king. Jenny clutched his beringed hand. "I cannot leave her now."

Henry pulled his hand out of hers, then patted her head. "You are out of your vow, Jenny Humphrey. I will gather what is left of my court and we shall move to London. The princess is gone."

Jenny turned wide eyes at the door. She picked up her skirts and prepared to race back to the princess' side. But Lord Archibald caught her arms and pulled her back. "Jenny, Jenny," he repeated, his voice calming. "You should not see her now."

"Take the girl to Norfolk," the king told Nathaniel. To Jenny, he handed a small leather pouch. "Take this to Chuck Bass. Tell him it is a keepsake. Be well, little Jenny. Be soothed by the knowledge that you have served the princess well."

Jenny closed her eyes, and the tears fell like rain. She looked back at the chamber doors, then at Henry's back as he entered. "I have to get Cat," she remembered. Jenny turned frantically to look for Blair's white pet. "Help me, my lord. We need to find Cat!"

The next day, they pounded on the gates of Norfolk. Sealed shut, hostile to travelers, they found no warm welcome into the village. Nathaniel called out to the soldiers who guarded it.

"Sir Daniel says no travelers! Our apologies. There is another open village two hours ride west."

Jenny called out. "Tell him it is his sister, and we have a message for the duke from the king himself." Her voice was proud and arrogant when she claimed the honored position of a messenger, only to be met with a suspicious scowl.

"Jenny," Nathaniel cautioned, "saying the name of Henry here will not get you the appreciation you want, Jenny. Not here."

It took several minutes, and then, the gates creaked open and Sir Daniel stepped outside. "Jenny?" he exclaimed.

Jenny turned and regarded the young man that she barely recognized. "Dan?" her voice was uncertain.

"Aye. Tis I." Jenny gasped and raced to him to throw her arms around him. Dan caught his sister in his embrace, breathed in the scent, marveled at how much she had grown. "They said you had a message for the duke."

Jenny nodded. "But I can only give it to him myself."

Dan glanced at the soldiers who watched them closely. "I cannot allow you inside, Jenny. Not with the threat of the Sweat." Sir Daniel looked up and recognized Lord Archibald. "What are you doing here?"

Nathaniel set his jaw. "I have come to protect your sister on the way, so that she can deliver Henry's message safely."

Sir Daniel regarded the two, then shook his head. "Call for the duke," he ordered. He looked at his sister sadly. "Jenny, this disease is real."

"I know it is," Jenny cried out. "It swept Harcourt like wildfire. We did not get sick. We are safe, Dan," she insisted.

And then, the gates opened, to the surprise of even Daniel Humphrey. He turned back and saw the duke, appearing unkempt, standing at the top of the stone steps.

Chuck called loudly, "Visitors from Harcourt. Deliver your message from Henry, and be on your way."

Behind him, Serena gasped at the sight of Nathaniel Archibald escorting the strange girl. Jenny jumped down from her gelding, then made her way up the steps to the duke. She took the pouch from where it hung around her neck, then presented it to him. "A keepsake for you, your grace, from his highness Henry VII."

Chuck took the leather pouch and pulled to open it. He dropped the content onto his palm.

A small gold and diamond heart.

Chuck drew his breath, then closed his hand around it. "Where is she?" he whispered.

Jenny strained to hear him. And then when she recognized his words, her eyes fell. "Perished from the sweating sickness, your grace. She caught it moments after she entered Harcourt." Jenny was brave, and they were enemies, all of them. She could not weep and show weakness, but could not help the sting of tears. "She said she wished she'd stayed here. Perhaps she would not have gotten sick if she did," Jenny continued. It was the only possible reason that the princess would say it.

Chuck's eyes blazed, and he raised his accusing gaze to Nathaniel. He gripped the brooch so tightly it pierced his palm. "Tell me it is a lie," he rasped at his cousin.

Nathaniel's guilt rose to the surface. He had not known about Chuck's affection for the captive princess until the day the duke delivered Blair to Harcourt, and Nathaniel watched the goodbye from the rafters. He slowly climbed the steps and then pulled Chuck heavily into an embrace. Whichever side they were in, the blood that coursed through their veins came from one, long ago Plantagenet ancestor. "I cannot say enough how sorry I am," Nathaniel said into his cousin's ear.

Chuck's nostrils flared, his face contorted at his valiant effort to contain his rage. And then, he clutched Nathaniel's shoulders tightly. With one shuddering breath, Chuck threw his cousin down the few stone steps until Nathaniel lay twisted and groaning on the dusty ground.

Serena called Nathaniel's name, then fled down the steps to check on him. She glared up at her brother.

"You," Chuck spat at Nathaniel. He turned to Serena, "you," at Eric, "you," at Daniel, "you. All of you—all of you killed her." He raised his fisted hand to his lips, where he gripped the brooch so hard blood trickled from his palm down to his wrist. And then Chuck turned and stalked back into the keep.

In Harcourt, Henry's staff and nobles prepared for the transfer to London. The population grieved, and he would take with him now a household so much smaller than the one he brought with him. Even now, a small pile burned outside.

He made his way to the chambers where no one else was allowed. He stood by the door and watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, and sent a fervent prayer to Christ.

"How does she?"

The doctor broke into a smile. "A miracle. It is a miracle."

"The princess is dead," Henry said firmly. "You and I are the only ones left who know otherwise."

The doctor nodded. "The princess is dead." The older man furrowed his brows, then asked, "But why, your highness?"

"Blair has never been hurt or taken, when no one knew she existed." Henry sat by his sister's bedside. "Now too many people know of her."

"You are king."

"And I must protect her, like my father had done before me." He reached out his hand and traced one cut on her arm, where she had initially been bled. "Whatever it takes, she will be safe." Henry thought of the grand holdings he had acquired, not far from London. She would be guarded, and no harm would come to her.

He dismissed the doctor when she started to stir. When she woke, Blair released a heavy sigh.

"Welcome back," he greeted. "I feared for your life."

She smiled at her brother. "Harry, there are more for me to do in this world."

He raised her hand to his lips. "Aye, Blair, of course. You will have a new chance. I will give you a new life." Henry brushed her hair from her forehead. "You will move about in court and use another name. You will have everything and more than you had in Calais."

"Harry, I want to visit Norfolk." He squeezed her hand, and shook his head sadly. "They were kind to me. Harry—"

"I'm afraid Norfolk is no more, Blair," the king informed her. "Razed by the disease that almost took you. Burned to ground until it stank the skies."

Blair's lips parted, and a sob tightened her chest. "Wh—" She released the heavy breath. "Wha—"

"The duke was an honorable man, it seemed. He did not abandon his people."

"Gone along with them?" she whispered.

"There is no better way to die."

tbc