Westminster Palace, London, England, Winter 1454

                                    

                                          
The Christmas season descends on court soon after we arrive back home from Grafton and I throw myself into the festivities. The two years prior Christmas had not been much fun as it had been the first that I had celebrated the holiday without my parents present and the second because the joy of the holiday was almost forgotten due to the illness of the king. Because of this, I am determined to make the most of this time. 
I busy myself ordering presents for my relatives and friends. For Elizabeth I get several boxes of silk that she can make into whatever type of dress she wants. I gave each of my ladies in waiting a new silk dress and I buy Lewis and Anthony philosophy books from Byzantium. I get Jackie a copy of the Odyssey and I gift Anne and Mary gold necklaces and the other young Woodville girls porcelain dolls. Then for the younger boys I gift new boots and toy swords, something I think will be greatly appreciated by them. I get Alice Chaucer and my aunt Anne valuable books of hours that come from the convents in Florence. I also send gifts back to my family in Italy and Burgundy. To my Burgundian relatives I send books of hours and small purses of gold for the children and for my Italian cousins I send English toys like tops and jacks as well as jewelry for young Bianca. I also ask my aunt Lucrezia to send me updates on my new cousin, young Giuliano who was born in the October of 1453, and by all accounts, had been developing into quite the handsome young baby.
I also take this time to remember my spiteful great aunt who is living with my young godson at Windsor Castle desperately praying for her husband to wake up. I pity her. As I exalt in my new status as Edwards betrothed, I cannot help but think that Margaret at one point must've been so very much like me; a young girl with such a happy future to look forward to. How terrible it must've been for her that fate gifted such a cruel hand. For her I send a ruby bracelet and for my godson I give an assortment of leather balls and toy horses and soldiers.
I hope to influence him to become as great as a warrior as his grandfather was, I write to Margaret. By the way that she does not respond I can only guess that she is in no mood for thinking about her son's chances of being a warrior. 

The night before Christmas celebrations for the birth of our Savior are suspended as we observe the solemn Christmas mass. I stand next to Cecily Neville and Alice Montague as I teach Alice's youngest daughter Margaret how to properly hold the candle. The little girl doesn't yet know what to do with it and find herself dripping with hot wax. It starts to burn her fingers and I have to take it away from her, Alice sending me a grateful look at her little girl starts to peel away the dried wax off her fingers. 
After the mass is concluded and the priest says his special Christmas blessing everyone at court retires early out of reverence to the holiday and the significance of it in the church. Christmas makes me miss my family in Italy more. I think of my uncle Carlo, the illegitimate son of my grandfather who my grandmother helped raise as her own. He is a priest, a cardinal in the holy church. Was he saying Christmas mass right now too? Or my aunts and uncles and cousins and my father singing along to the hymns and carols of the church too? I try to pull my thoughts away from that as I follow Cecily, Alice, and their children back into their rooms.
My distraction plan isn't going as I thought though, as the Edward, Edmund Ruthland, the Duke of York and Earl of Salisbury come in and tell their children that they must get to bed. 
"You must hurry," Edward says with fake urgency, "or else Father Christmas might skip the castle."
I look up at him confused. "Father Christmas?"
All the sudden the little children look at me as if I've committed some mortal sin and exclaim, "Eliza, you don't know who Father Christmas is!?!"
I look around the room to see that the adults liked shocked as well before I say, "No, I don't know who Father Christmas is."