Chapter Text
She lied next to him with her eyes closed gently, but he knew that she was not asleep.
By the dawn of morrow, Richard would depart for the Red Plain - to face the final battle between York and Lancaster.
Henry Tudor was invading England in the name of Henry of Lancaster, who was only at the tender age of twelve.
The news shattered Anne's heart, and the Countess of Warwick didn't take it well either. Both had thought Anne's firstborn had been long deceased. Initially, they were saddened by the news of his death; now, they felt that his fate might had been better had he truly died from natural causes.
"He could be an imposter," Richard said to her one day.
Certainly, it could be a possibility; but Anne would not know, neither would Richard.
"You know that Margaret Beaufort would never intend that boy to be King," the Countess had said to her. "That lady had always wanted her son to be the King of England."
Anne had not said much regarding to this boy whom Tudor claimed to be her son.
She only shed tears.
In her belly, she was bearing a York heir; at the shore from Burgundy, there was a Lancastrian child whom she had given birth to after the death of her first husband.
Either way, whoever wins the battle, she would be either wife or mother to the King.
And she would suffer.
She could feel his hand slipping under her shift to rub her belly.
Without a word, she tugged her shift over her head. Silently, she laid there as he caressed her body.
In the end, she pressed his palm against her bump, where he could feel a flush of movement.
She was pleading him.
If you win the battle, have mercy on him. He is only a child. He knows nothing. He is only a pawn of Tudor's.
Richard said nothing.
His hand rested against her bump.
But there is only one King of England.
***
When Anne woke up, she found the other side of the bed empty. Pushing herself up, she found Richard sitting not too far away from the bed. Putting on her shift and robe, she went to him. Before she could touch him, he drew her to him and held her dearly.
Anne could feel the baby moving.
"Come back to me, Richard," she whispered. "You must come back to me."
She was holding two individuals whom she treasured the most.
And in her heart, she was thinking of Henry of Lancaster.
***
After Richard left to face Tudor, Anne settled in the sanctuary with her mother, niece and nephew, and the two daughters of Elizabeth Woodville. The Countess and Margaret of Warwick were hostile towards Bess at the very least.
"It is not her fault," Anne spoke for her. "She is only her mother's daughter."
Then again, after the war is over, which one of them - Anne or Bess - shall be Queen of England?
"Are you thinking of that boy?" The Countess asked. "You think he's an imposter?"
"I don't know!" Each time Henry of Lancaster was mentioned, Anne would throw a fit. "I don't know! He can be my poor boy Henry or he can be a boy picked up from the street! I never know him! He was taken from me since the day he was born! Even his name isn't given by me!"
It hurt the Countess to see Anne as thus, but she continued on saying, "You know if Richard wins, he has a decision to make."
Anne was about to say something, but her throat was too stuffed. Tears falling from her eyes and she whispered, "Why mother? Why? Why must children suffer as thus?"
She was only fourteen when she was married to Edward of Lancaster for the sake of political alliance between her father Warwick and Margaret of Anjou. Only weeks before she was a girl playing with dolls. Anne remembered Margaret of Anjou. The aging militant Queen was now living in France under the French King's charity. Does she know that her grandson is alive?
The late King Edward's sons with Elizabeth Woodville were also boys.
One of them too young to wear the heavy crown.
Now, she was thankful that her son Ned died peacefully from natural cause -
Suddenly, horror came to her.
"Anne, what is it?"
Anne stood numbly.
Holding onto her belly, she let out a sob.
"Oh dear God! Oh dear God!" She wept.
That dream she had while pregnant with Henry years ago.
You will have three sons. One will be King; one will die in bed; and one will die by execution...
And that Edward of Lancaster had came to her and took her daughter away as revenge.
Our son...how could you...
An eye for an eye, your daughter for my son...
Then when she had Ned, the hooded figure appeared before her and put out one candle.
Die in bed...
Now she knew.
There were three candles and one was out.
Her Ned was the one who died in bed; initially she had thought it was Henry.
That remained her firstborn Henry and this child to-be-born.
One will be King and one will die from execution.
It was out of her hand.
"Anne, speak to me!" The Countess was alarmed.
Anne only lost all the strength she had; she could've collapsed to the grown had the Countess not held on to her.
***
She was resting in bed when Richard returned London victorious. He rushed to the sanctuary to see her.
"I have to rest in bed," she muttered. "The midwives said I can't rise until the birth of our son."
"You know it's a boy?" He rubbed her cheek. "No matter, I'm happy that you are well."
He kissed her knuckles.
In the following days, he stayed by her side.
He read to her and prayed with her.
While he had Sir Thomas Stanley and his brother William Stanley executed publicly along with Henry Tudor, he did not mention anything on Henry of Lancaster.
Neither did Anne.
***
"Richard, do you love me?" Anne asked him one day.
"You know I do Anne," he replied. "I always have."
"Will you love me enough, to spare me..." She stopped there and choked on her words. "I can't bear it."
"I will never hurt you, Anne," he promised.
She wrapped her arm around him and played with his dark curls.
"Bess has grown up," she said, changing the subject. "We need to find a suitor for her."
She gave him a smile.
***
That night, her water broke.
Surrounded by midwives and with her mother by her side, Anne was racked with pain.
Meanwhile, Richard was praying.
One hour went by.
Two hours...
Then five...
Richard painstakingly counted the hours.
It was almost 48.
Finally, the physician and a midwife came to inform him that the Queen had give birth to a healthy boy.
But their faces were grave.
***
She was waiting her him in bed.
"Where is my boy?" Her voice was barely audible. "I want to see him."
He gestured the wet nurse to come closer so she could have a good look at their son.
"I want to hold him."
Richard had her sit up and leaned against him while the wet nurse placed the baby into her arms, with Richard holding her arms around the baby.
"Richard?" Anne asked.
"Richard," he nodded. "His name is Richard."
"I'm too weak," she murmured. "I'm afraid that I will fall asleep."
"You don't have to worry about that," he said. "I will watch over him while you are sleeping. I will allow no harm to come to him, for he is my heir, my line, and a part of you. I promise you."
Anne spoke no more.
Her eyelids fell.
She couldn't hear Richard's cries.
Nor she could hear the cries of her son.
She became lighter and lighter.
Soon she found herself in a happy place.
Two children were waiting for her, a boy and a girl.
Anne knew they are her children - Cecily and Ned.
Taking their hands, she was happy.
***
London, Westminster Abbey, 1503
Before the marble tomb of Lady Anne Neville, King Richard IV of England stood and read the epitaph curved on the tomb.
She who has been a Queen and Mother on earth
Has become a Queen and Mother in Heaven
The young King never met his mother, for she had died soon after giving birth to him.
His father the late Richard III had just won his decisive victory against the Lancastrian forces before his birth. He had executed his Lancastrian enemies, namely Henry Tudor. As for Margaret Beaufort, she remained imprisoned in the Tower until her death shortly prior to the King Richard IV's ascension. It was on her deathbed she confessed her involvement in the disappearances of the Princes in the Tower. According to those who were close to King Richard III, Margaret Beaufort revealed the location of the Princes' corpses and that the King had them privately reburied as royal princes.
After the death of Lady Anne Neville, the grieving King Richard III went to see his Lancastrian prisoner - Henry of Lancaster. By looking at his eyes, he knew he was Anne's son without a doubt. For a long time, he had him imprisoned but treated him well.
The boy hardly spoke and his eyes were rather empty.
Whenever he talked, he'd say, "I am Henry of Lancaster, legitimate son to Edward of Westminster and Lady Anne Neville. I am the true King of England."
Richard knew that to keep his crown safe, Henry of Lancaster had to go. However, he couldn't sign the order of his execution until another rebellion uprising occurred to restore the young Lancastrian heir to the throne. Now Richard knew he had to act. After all, he did promise Anne to keep their son safe and sound.
Thus, on the day after his sixteenth birthday, Richard had Henry of Lancaster executed in a private execution.
He was given a cushion to kneel on and a satin handkerchief to blindfold his eyes.
To make sure his death is painless, Richard hired a well-experienced French executioner to conduct the execution by the sword instead of an axe.
One swift and it was all over.
But Richard's health had deteriorated much since the execution.
Still, he lived on and married once more.
His new bride was Princess Joan of Portugal, whose cousin Manuel had wed Bess. Alas, through this marriage, Bess - who had been a daughter to a King, sister to a King, and niece to a King - would become a queen herself.
Richard's marriage to Joan produced one daughter, who was named Anne. After giving birth to her child, Joan herself lived in a rather isolated and religious life.
Under the love and protection of his father, young Richard grew into a slender young man who inherited the dark hair and eyes of his father. Richard III suffered bouts of ill health, but he vowed to live on until the day his son reaches majority. On his deathbed, he called out one name.
Joan of Portugal gestured her teenage daughter to step forward.
But it wasn't her he was calling out for.
The moment he breathed his last, young Richard Prince of Wales became King Richard IV of England.
***
Before his death, King Richard III had arranged a marriage between his son and Princess Catherine of Aragon, the youngest daughter of the Catholic Monarchs Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon. The ailing King saw to the young Infanta's arrival to England and received her warmly. The Spanish Princess was very smart, pretty, and strong-willed. However, many noticed that the lady at the new King's side wasn't the Spanish Infanta, but Lady Anne Howard, who grew up with the young King since their childhood.
The new King had been told the story of his half-brother, Henry of Lancaster, whom he never met.
He was too young to remember his execution.
Out of his curiosity, he went to the sanctuary where Henry of Lancaster was supposed to be interred according to Lady Margaret Beaufort.
He had the coffin opened.
It was empty.