Palace of Placentia, Greenwich
July 1467
It is said that a true King should never allow others to see his feelings. A strong King represents a strong country and for that reason, no subject is to ever see just how fragile he can be. Though not raised to be a King, Niklaus has always prided himself on being able to masquerade his feelings. There was something rather powerful in others not being able to read him, after all.
This occasion, however, is unlike any other. For the first time in his existence, Klaus cannot muster a care for the opinion of others. As he lays his eyes on his child for the first time, Klaus can only focus on the babe's tiny hands and the hearty cry that comes out of him. For a fraction of a second, he thinks of the other times he's stepped into these same birthing chambers to meet a child and the fear that has been gripping his for the better part of the day eases just a little. Not one of his children with Aurora sounded so strong, so full of life.
"My love," Klaus murmurs as he takes hesitant steps towards Bonnie. Skin glistening from the sweat, brown curls tied in an elaborate braid and green eyes that manage to glitter despite her obvious exhaustion, Bonnie looks beautiful and much too precious for him.
Despite wanting to recite thousands of loving words and pretty poems, Klaus finds himself speechless. Just as speechless as he was when he first saw her in that dimly lit tent in St. Albans, little more than a young witch with a generous heart. Just as speechless as he was when he saw her walk down the aisle of Westminster Abbey in her coronation robes, a proper Queen then. Now she is the mother of his child, and Klaus cannot think of anything more perfect than her image.
"She is a girl, Nik," Bonnie whispers; eyes filled with unshed tears glancing up at him. Though she already loves her daughter with more strength she thought possible, Bonnie is not a fool. Nik is a King and kings need sons to ensure the continuity of the line. They need sons to ensure peace in England, and she has failed in that. "I am sorry."
One would believe him to be disappointed for not getting his much-awaited son, and yet, unexpectedly, there is not an ounce of discontent in him. After having his heart broken time and time again, after experiencing the bitter and salty taste of grief, Klaus wonders if he can even be disappointed right now. His child lives and breathes, Bonnie remains healthy. The only emotions running through him are relief and pure joy.
"Leave us," he commands with a gentler tone than his usual authoritative one, but the Queens' ladies are quick to obey; filing out of the room in silence after the customary bow. "You continue to make the happiest of men, my Queen."
"Do you mean that? I am not a fool, I know you wished to have a son, a Mikaelson prince," Bonnie says as he moves to sit next to her on the grand bed that was specially built for her confinement. "I know her birth is a disappointment to you. I guess the feasts and jousts will have to be canceled."
"Look at me, love," he pleads as he cups her cheek; the pads of his fingers drying the wet trail left by her tears. "She is from both of us and we will love her very well. No child of mine will ever be a disappointment. Especially one that comes from you. I have no doubt we will have sons, but I am quite happy to have her at the moment."
Not at all expecting these words, Bonnie collapses against his body as the exhaustion and relief become too much to bear. Perhaps the utter anticipation of having to tell Niklaus of her perceived failure was the only thing keeping her awake and now she will finally be able to rest.
"The Lords will say that this is a sign from God, that He has decided not to bless our marriage," Bonnie says against the light cotton material of his shirt; her voice muffled and almost indecipherable.
Even though she has attempted to ignore court gossip and go about her business, it is impossible not to take notice of the mean-spirited little conversations they like to engage in. She knows they still think her to be unsuitable for the position of Queen consort, and a son would be her own small victory against them. The little witch without a drop of royal blood, daughter of an Earl, mother of the next King of England. What could be more glorious to her and disconcerting to them?
"A Queen must not concern herself with the opinion of her subjects, love," Klaus advises, raising her chin with the tips of his fingers and bringing their lips together. It is a brief, yet sweet kiss. A kiss meant to say all the words he is in incapable of threading together; meant to assure her of her position. "Now, let me see her properly."
With a hesitancy familiar to all new mothers, Bonnie lifts the babe from the padded basket and places her on her husband's arms. After being washed with rose petals and jasmine scented water by the midwife and swaddled in a soft cloth, the baby seems to be quite content.
"Oh, she is beautiful!" Klaus marvels as he adjusts her tiny body in his arms. Her dark blue eyes blink open, staring at him in such a way he wonders if she can read his mind. "We will love you very well. You shall be the most cherished Princess in all Christendom."
As the second son and third child of the Duke and Duchess of Somerset, much of Klaus' childhood was spent in the company of his Lady Joan, his nursemaid, and his brother Elijah. His parents were but strangers, unfamiliar people who liked to visit their Wiltshire home during Christmas. He had a Lord and a Lady to obey and please instead of a mother and a father. His daughter will not suffer from the same faith.
"And for that, my husband, you make me the happiest Queen of all Christendom," Bonnie beams at him before resting her head on his shoulder; eyes fluttering shut as physical exertion finally takes a toll on her body.
"Rest easy, love," he murmurs as he lays a kiss on the crown of her head. The baby grunts as if demanding his attention, and Klaus is immediately wonderstruck. How could one bear such perfection? "Now, my little Princess…"
"Madeleine. Princess Madeleine," Bonnie mumbles with a sigh before slipping into a deep slumber.
England will, at last, have another Madeleine in the royal family.
Palace of Westminster, London
September 1467
The wedding of Anne Bennett, the youngest of the Queen's cousins, is celebrated with more pomp than one would expect, resulting in a ripple of astonishment throughout court.
After all, as the ten-year-old daughter of a newly made baron, a betrothal to the son of a local knight was to be expected. A marriage to Henry Stafford- the young Duke of Buckingham and part of a wealthy werewolf family- however, is cause for indignation among the nobility.
"I have to confess, I am rather surprised that so many nobles have attended the ceremony. I would have expected them to feign indisposition!" Sheila comments with a smile; a goblet of wine in her hand as she glances around the room.
Westminster Hall, decorated with Arras gold cloth and silver chandeliers, is filled with familiar faces and in Sheila's opinion, none of them look very happy.
Their subdued behavior is hardly surprising to her, for she is aware of their disapproval when it comes to the betrothal. To them, a werewolf high noble, son of a prominent Lancastrian lord, should not be marrying the daughter of an Earl's second son. To Sheila, their feelings are irrelevant and somewhat amusing. After years of shunning, they will all have to witness the rise of Bennetts.
"Oh, I have no doubt they have attended just so they can continue to throw glances of pity at me," Bonnie retorts in good spirits, moving to break a piece off the rye bread.
Seven weeks after Madeleine's birth, Bonnie finds herself devoid of any feelings of disappointment regarding her daughter's sex. The babe continues to grow and thrive, as healthy as she can be. If others want to see her with dismay, let them.
"I reckon some of them are quite surprised the King did not show any hints of disappointment after the birth of the Princess."
When it was announced that Queen Bonnie delivered a daughter instead of the Prince of Wales, many of the courtiers expected the King to skulk around in shame, to cancel all the celebrations and have a subdued christening ceremony. Instead, the King surprised them all by ordering the most lavish christening and displaying his joy towards his new seed.
"Perhaps they are wondering as to how our little Annie can be married to the Duke of Buckingham. I must say, Grandmother, you astound me with your abilities sometimes. Even I did not expect you to make such quick work!" Bonnie exclaims; her tone genuine and a little curious.
After all, her Lady Grandmother managed a feat that would be considered impossible in less than six weeks.
"Well, if you must know…" Sheila hesitates and averts her eyes, a gesture that heightens Bonnie's interest. Her Grandmother is usually very open when it comes to her strategies, even anxious to show her the ways to survive as Queen.
"You scare me, Grandmother."
Sheila sighs and leads Bonnie to a more secluded corner of the Hall, hoping to avoid curious eyes and ears. Too many of the courtiers attending the feast already possess supernatural hearing, so it is only wise to attempt to be discreet.
"My power may be dormant, but it is still within me," Sheila says; her mind becoming absent for a moment, going to another place in a different time. "And sometimes, I can feel it. My ancestors called it the sight. It told me I should arrange this match as fast as possible."
"The sight?" Bonnie asks with a frown. Her knowledge of magic is limited to healing and protection spells, and realizing her utter ignorance when it comes to her magical abilities is upsetting. Vampires and werewolves have killed just to try to gain this power and here she is, neglecting it. "How can you tell?"
"It is difficult to explain, it is akin to a whisper blowing in the wind, perhaps."
"May we never live in peace and contentment?" Bonnie bemoans, hardly caring that her behavior and words are not befitting of her position.
"You are Queen of England, a country that remains divided," Sheila reminds her in a harsh whisper and looks around to check if anyone has heard her granddaughter's careless words. "You will not be able to live in peace anymore, Bonnie."
Bonnie sighs before taking a sip of the mulled wine, feeling the wine become a tad bitter on her tongue. Her Lady Grandmother's words do not surprise her, but they still have the ability to stir something within her. A sensation of sorrow, perhaps?
"Your Grace, your Grace! I am sorry to barge in such a manner, but you must see this!" A young squire exclaims as he runs into the hall, breaking off the lively music and Bonnie's thoughts. The whole court halts their actions to focus on the red-faced man and his expression of pure astonishment.
In hurried, yet hesitant steps, Bonnie follows Niklaus as he walks towards the courtyard. What they find is something nobody could ever expect to see again.
The old King Richard. Wearing simple clothes that in no way reflect his past station and devoid of any jewelry, Richard bears an unhealthy pallor and looks emaciated. His dark blonde hair is dirty and his eyes, vacant. Bonnie finally understands why one would call him witless.
"Poor Richard," Sheila whispers. Despite her current loyalty to King Niklaus and the vampire cause, she still holds some endearment to the King who sought to help her family.
"Your Grace, I bring this traitor to you!" Warwick bellows before dismounting his horse. "He believed he could hide in Scotland, but I found him!"
The expression of satisfaction on his face is so clear that Bonnie has to grit her teeth to keep herself from displaying her displeasure. As much as she has attempted to build a sort of friendship with Warwick, Bonnie knows any step he takes is calculated with ultimate precision. The man has been absent from court for the past weeks, probably licking his wounds from being humiliated with the Burgundian alliance. What would have enticed him to put such a blatant display of loyalty?
Her husband, however, does not seem to have such reservations, for he rushes forward to envelop the man in a hug.
"And you have brought him to face justice for what he and his wife have done to Father!" Niklaus exclaims as he pats Warwick on the shoulder, a clear sign of approval. He then turns to the nobles who surround them. "He shall be taken to the Tower! Let it be known that I will offer him mercy and respect. And you, cousin! You must celebrate with me! Mulberry wine, perhaps?"
Warwick smiles as he sees the loyalty shining in Niklaus' eyes again. What could be the best moment to introduce the subject in his mind? At least now he will have the King's ear and not even his witch will be able to set him astray.
"Actually, I would like to speak to you first, if that is possible."
"Of course, cousin. I do not think I would be able to deny you anything!"
And that is what Bonnie fears the most, Niklaus' blind loyalty.
The capture of old King Richard has transformed a rather subdued wedding feast into a wild revel after the vampire loyalists got a hold of another barrel of wine. Not excited to celebrate Warwick's great achievement, the Queen retires to her rooms early. Even though her young ladies seem to be dismayed to leave all the excitement and gossip of the feast, being around lecherous drunks seems rather improper to Bonnie.
Besides, being with her daughter in the comfort of her richly furnished chambers is a much more enticing activity. At seven weeks, Madeleine is as pretty as a cherub with her chubby cheeks and dark brown curls.
"There you are, my disappearing witch," Klaus says, feet rooted on the entrance of her inner chambers as he admires the lovely scene before him.
"Have you missed me, love?" Bonnie asks with a crooked smile; a shade of pink spreading across her face as she realizes the boldness that tints her words.
"I see you have found a better companion for tonight," he gestures to their daughter, who now slumbers peacefully on Bonnie's chest. "May I join you?"
"Oh, husband. Have you tired from Aumerle's incessant boasts about his latest hunt?"
The laughter that fills the room; unexpected and joyful, causes her lips to curl in a smile and Bonnie to feel as warm as the mulled wine she has been sipping during the feast. Even after months after the wedding, part of her is amazed that they still are husband and wife, trusted confidants and not merely King and Queen.
"I happen to believe you two are far better than listening to Aumerle and Wessex," Niklaus says as he begins to disrobe; each elaborate piece of clothing thrown to the floor until he was only in breeches and a simple white shirt.
"Are you to spend the night here? I have missed you, my King."
Being away from Niklaus for months due to confinement was far more painful than Bonnie ever expected, and she just longs to be near him once more. They may not be able to be together as husband and wife tonight, but his mere presence is enough for now. A suspicious side of her mind wonders if he has taken any mistresses at the time; a thought Bonnie is quick to snuff it out before it can grow any further. She will not allow baseless doubts to poison her mind.
"I am, love," Niklaus answers as he pushes the inordinate amount of covers to the side. "I believe your presence is the only thing to soothe my mind at this moment."
Even while distracted by the rise and fall of Madeleine's chest and her fluttering heartbeat against her own skin, Bonnie cannot help notice something amiss in him.
"What happens in that mind of yours, husband?" Bonnie wonders as she turns to look at Niklaus in the eye, attempting to understand what ails him.
"Nothing that would interest you, love. I do not wish to ruin this beautiful night with my senseless musings," Klaus says with a wave of a hand, hoping it will settle the issue.
At the moment, his mind is little more than illogical thoughts and doubts he dares not share with anyone. Hardly a subject of polite conversation.
"I do happen to love your senseless musings, Nik," Bonnie murmurs, moving closer to him until her head rests on his shoulder until his scent is all she can sense. "Are you concerned with King Richard in the Tower?"
While the loyalists have celebrated the capture with a fiery passion, believing it to signify the quashing of any hope to a werewolf restoration, Bonnie knows better. Even her naïve mind knows that having Richard locked up in the Tower can only be a temporary strategy.
"For so long, Richard was a shadow in my reign and I have believed that once I had him under my control, I would be undoubted."
"But you are, Nik!" Bonnie assures in a loud whisper; a hand splayed on his face to make sure their eyes meet. "You are an anointed King, my love. None can doubt the legitimacy of your reign."
"And yet, I still wonder when they will attack. That evil bitch and her son," he mumbles the last words; a golden ring bleeding into the blue of his eyes. The anger that swirls within him is quiet yet palpable.
"Warwick was able to capture Richard, I've no doubt he will get Margaret and her son soon enough," Bonnie comments; able to swallow her pride for a moment. Anything to give him peace of mind. "Are you to give him a brand new title as a reward?"
"As a matter of fact, there is something else Warwick has asked of me. His girls for my brothers," Niklaus says in a lighter tone as if the matter is of no consequence. Bonnie, however, has a hard time concealing her astonishment.
"He wishes to marry Elena and Victoria to Finn and Kol?"
Even the possibility sounds baffling as soon as the words leave her lips. Elena and Victoria as royal duchesses, linked to the royal family. Bonnie may not be the greatest strategist when it comes to the rather treacherous English court, but she is wise enough to understand the dangers such union poses. Surely he must see it too.
"Yes, and I am inclined to grant his request, my love," he answers; his voice already taking on a cajoling tone.
Still asleep, Madeleine lets out a small cry, breaking the silence in the room. The sound of whispers carried by the wind is also there, telling something Bonnie cannot quite understand. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the feeling of dread envelops her body, leaving her cold and bitter. A sign she cannot ignore.
"Nik, you cannot allow such match to happen!" Bonnie urges as she tries to rid herself of the sick feeling still within her, to no avail.
It is then that she understands he Lady Grandmother's words. The sight.
"My love, Warwick has been my most faithful supporter ever since I was nothing but a boy," Niklaus reminds her, just as she expected him to. "He continues to support me even after everything. Do you understand why I cannot deny him?"
Perhaps, if Niklaus were not the King, Bonnie would be able to shout until she could make him see reason until she destroyed every thread of that blanket of loyalty wrapped around him. However, he is her King. Her monarch before he is her husband. So she will have to make use of carefully chosen words and a soft tone.
"Those two girls will one day inherit one of the greatest fortunes in the land. Having them so close to the throne…" Bonnie trails off, not daring to voice the most disturbing thought that seems to be haunting her.
Since Elijah had forfeited his and his descendants' right to the throne; a decision made official by Act of Parliament, Finn, the Duke of Clarence remains the heir to the throne until they have a son. Warwick's influence is already far too great and it would become impossible to bear if he succeeds in making both of his daughters two of the highest ranked ladies in court. No, they must keep his blood away from the throne.
"You forget that he is the one who put the crown upon my head, love," Klaus reminds her with a light chuckle, failing to understand her anxiety.
"Then give him titles and more lands to display your gratitude and appreciation," Bonnie whispers; bringing the knuckles of his right hand to her lips. "You are the King now."
A kiss morphs into a wordless plea. He nods after a moment of hesitation; a King silently submitting to his Queen
"Thank you, Nik. Truly."
The English countryside may be peaceful and just so beautiful in the spring, there is something quite alluring about being at court. As much as Victoria loves to keep to her books, ensconced in Warwick Castle or Middleham, she cannot help but become wide-eyed with every glittering detail at Westminster Palace.
Unlike home, where she and Elena spend most of their days praying, practicing embroidery and appropriate dances, the Palace is filled with excitement. Feasts are served during the evenings when the King is in a good mood; entertainment never lacking. It is almost as if London is a whole different country.
"You believe the Queen will request us to join her household?" Victoria wonders out loud; her nimble fingers halting the needlework to stare up at Elena.
Though her voice is without feeling, Victoria is quite anxious regarding this particular matter. Her Lady Mother does not seem to have much appreciation for the Queen, but Victoria thinks she would very much like to be a part of Her Grace's household. All of her ladies look so elegant in their uniform gowns and they are so refined and worldly.
"I certainly hope not!" Elena snorts with derision and brings a hand to her mouth as if to cover the rather unladylike sound. "I do not imagine I would like to serve a witch."
Being a lady-in-waiting to the Queen may offer its perks, such as the opportunity to have Her Grace's ear and to have an advantageous match arranged. Elena, however, is a Neville. And a Neville will not serve a witch.
"Besides," Elena continues with a little mischievous smirk, setting her embroidery work aside. "Mother has informed me that Father has much bigger plans for us."
Victoria's brown eyes widen in surprise as she rushes to sit by Elena's side on the padded bench.
"Tell me!"
"You mustn't tell anyone, promise?" Elena says with a grave voice. The whole court has a penchant for gossip, even the servants. If even a single lady hears of it, the whole castle will know by nightfall. "Father will ask the King his permission for us to marry his brothers, the Dukes."
"Truly?" Victoria asks; a dainty hand resting on her chest as to calm her fluttering heartbeat. Certainly, these are quite important plans. Far more important than becoming a lady to the Queen.
As daughter to Alaric Neville, Victoria has not once doubted she would marry well. Wife of an Earl or even a Duke, perhaps. A royal Duke, brother to the King himself, is more than she could ever expect.
"Father is the most important noble in the court and I doubt the King could deny him after he's brought King Richard," Elena beams as she stands up and twirls around in childish glee. "We will be royal duchesses, Vicky! Isn't it marvelous?"
Before Victoria can answer, the sound of a slamming door reaches the solar, followed by a familiar masculine shout. Both girls look at each other as they recognize the culprit for the ruckus that is taking place. Their Lord Father does not sound pleased.
Placing a finger over her lips, Elena pads to the door. With wide eyes and obvious anxiety, Victoria joins her sister as they listen in on the conversation.
"But how could he refuse this?" Lady Joanna questions in obvious astonishment; her voice even becoming quieter than usual.
It hardly makes sense to her. The King owes his crown and position to her husband. If not for him, Niklaus would be little more than a traitor's second son; living the life of a pauper after Richard takes away their lands. It would only be sensible for the King to reward his most loyal courtier and agree to the match.
"I do not know," Warwick responds with gritted teeth. This was not supposed to happen. With his deal with France ruined, the King ought to give him this. If not for friendship, then to soothe his pride.
"A way to publicly humiliate us!" Joanna cries out, slamming both hands on the oak table. This time, there is no doubt of her fury; not a hint of the proper lady she was raised to be. "She marries her countless cousins to husbands that are far above their stations, leaving no suitable matches for our daughters!"
The young start-up Queen, devoid of allies in court, has decided to tie her blood to the most prominent families in England. Despite her distaste for this blatant social climbing, Joanna did nor begrudge the Queen for it, considering it to be a rather intelligent strategy. Until now.
As noble ladies who stand to inherit one of the greatest fortunes in the entire land, Elena and Victoria must make suitable marriages. For them, a betrothal to a lowly knight or a baron would be beneath them and an utter humiliation.
"Do not despair, wife, for I will find a solution," he assures her with full confidence; his mind already conceiving strategies and plans.
He has not rebelled against a weak King who would lead England to the brink of destruction, losing men of his kind, of his blood, for nothing. Margaret was a French woman who knew nothing of their customs and attempted to rule England through her husband. Alaric would be damned if he allowed such nonsense to take place again.
Berkshire, England
October, 1470
Restless from the day's journey, Bonnie is much relieved to step out of the carriage and be able to move again. The crisp breeze of autumn morning touches her face, and she sighs in delight. The scent of nature-the trees and the wet soil - permeates the air, reminding Bonnie of her utter love for nature.
"Mama, bees!" Madeleine squeals as she sees the tiny animal flittering around yellow wildflowers. "Beautiful bees."
Bonnie smiles as she watches her eldest lean down; her blue eyes narrowing in curiosity as she extends a hand to the bee.
Three years have passed and much to the pleasure of Their Graces, the beginning of a new season has been blessed by the arrival of a new daughter. A little more than a year after the birth of Madeleine, Eleanor comes into the world. She is a tiny and quiet babe that barely whimpered as the midwife bathed her and put honey in her mouth. Alice, the youngest, is the exact opposite. Loud and demanding, one would think she was sired by the King alone.
Her little girls are not the boy England so desperately needs, the Prince of Wales to secure the future of the Mikaelson line, but to Bonnie, they are as perfect as one can be.
"Now, come, Maddie!" Bonnie calls out before her overexcited daughter becomes too worked up to continue on their journey. "You too, Ellie!"
Dressed in a simple white cotton shift and mildly entertained by the different surroundings, Princess Eleanor turns to her mother after the dandelions fail to capture her attention.
"But I do not want to stay in the carriage, mama!" Madeleine complains as expected; little face frowning in what is the beginning of a tantrum.
Lady Finch, the governess entrusted with the Princesses' care and overseeing the royal nursery, quickly senses her charge's disposition becoming disagreeable. Not wishing to appear incompetent in front of the Queen, she is fast to take action.
"Your Highness, if you come into the carriage, you will be able to see the ponies quite soon!" Lady Finch assures; a smile crinkling her round face when the suspicious Princess walks toward her. The promise of ponies seems to be enough to mollify her.
"And we need to be in the carriage to travel to Windsor Castle so we can see your father," Bonnie reminds them, hoping the thought of finally seeing Niklaus will cheer them up.
"Papa?" Eleanor asks with a confused expression as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.
"Yes, he is on Progress and we will join him. Wouldn't you like that, Ellie?"
Bonnie takes the little girl into her arms; a sense of tranquility enveloping her as Eleanor rests her head on her shoulder.
"Papa," she mumbles; dark brown curls flopping and eyes blinking as the small girl attempts to decide if she should remain awake or not.
"I know you miss him, my love. We shall be there soon enough," Bonnie whispers, perhaps to assure her own peace of mind rather than her young child's.
"Bonnie!" A familiar voice calls out, and Bonnie has to squint to see that it belongs to her father.
A rather unexpected sight, as the Earl of Derby and his brother, Baron Lisle, should be accompanying the King on his journey to Windsor Castle.
"Father, Uncle," Bonnie greets them as she hands Eleanor to her nursemaid. "What are you doing here? I expected to see you much later in the day."
Both men exchange concerned glances in what seems to be a silent conversation. Bonnie raises an eyebrow as she stares them down, hoping it will compel them to enlighten her on the situation.
"The King has instructed us to escort you and the princesses to Windsor Castle," Rudolph finally explains; his lips curling into a forced smile that inspires no sort of confidence in Bonnie.
For all of his faults, her father was never an adequate liar. And admirable trait in him that Bonnie most appreciates now.
"There is a rebellion and His Grace wants to ensure you are not harmed in any way," her Uncle says after noticing the hesitation in his brother.
"A simple rebellion was enough to urge you to come escort us? Windsor is just a few more hours' travels," Bonnie questions with a light chuckle, dismissing her previous feelings of unease.
Revolts are nothing new or significant in Niklaus' reign. Malcontent peasants in northern countries are aplenty, as some of them still keep their werewolf loyalties.
"There is something different in these rebels, Bonnie," Rudolph says in a quiet, ominous tone and this time, Bonnie feels her guts twisting with something akin to dread. "It is said there are thousands of them and they are well equipped with brand new boots and armors."
"Who could…" Bonnie begins to ask but interrupts her own words as realization dawns on her. The answer to her question is quite obvious. Who else has the fortune to arm thousands of rebels, who else has retired from court after an open display of his grievances towards the King?
"My dear niece, it would seem that Warwick wishes to live up to his honorific. He kingmakes once more."
A/N: A new chapter and I didn't even take that long! First of all, I wanna thank you, my amazing readers who take the time to review and let me know I am doing something right with this story! You probably don't know it, but every review makes me smile. I know some of you were disappointed that Bonnie didn't give birth to the Prince of Wales and that others plot against her, but you gotta understand that the nobles do not see her as one of their own and they are not at all keen on having their influence diminished. At this point, most of the plot points are based on history.
Now there are three little princesses and the King will have to deal with a rebellion sponsored by the Earl of Warwick, so there will be plenty of action and nobles plotting to stay on top and some coming for Klaus' crown! I didn't outright say who wants to be the new King, but I think you'll be able to tell.
And by the way, y'all should have a little more faith in me! Did you really think for a moment that I would ever put Elena with Klaus? Don't worry, there will be no such thing in this fic or any other fic that I write, lol!