❝you think Achilles was of impressive descent?
touch me one more time❞
The one where King Edward IV is captivated by Charlotte Neville and their love has far-reaching consequences. For Charlotte had a place in Edward's heart no one could tear her fr...
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Charlotte must have known that he was nearby.
During the first couple of hours, she made an effort to stifle her screams for his sake, not wanting him to know how much she was suffering, but as her labour dragged on, she no longer had the strength to pretend and her agonized cries tore through the apartment.
He longed to be by her side.
He knew that he could be of no real use in a birthing chamber but he could give her his hand to squeeze when the pain became too intense, or perhaps he could help bathe her to cool her.
He didn't know how long he sat in Charlotte's apartment, deaf to anything his brothers might have said to him and keeping his gaze trained on the heavy velvet curtains that separated the room from Charlotte's bedchamber. It was probably a matter of hours, but it felt as though he had been there for days, the sound of her screams in his ears. From time to time, one of Charlotte's ladies, usually Marie or Aimee merged to bring him news, but all they ever said was that it was going as well as it could be expected to, and that Charlotte was bearing up, and he could only take their word for it, as he had only the vaguest idea what to expect.
They had not needed to summon Doctor Hatteclyffe, which he took as a good sign.
After what felt like an eternity, he heard Mistress Granger's authoritative voice demand that clean linen be brought to her and, moments later, a slapping sound and a wailed protest.
Mistress Granger said something else, but he couldn't make it out. He listened intently for Charlotte, hoping to hear her say something that would indicate to him that she was safe.
Before he could process what was happening, he heard Charlotte cry out again, more loudly than she had before and then there was a flurry of panicked movement.
He ran into the room, and was by Charlotte's side in moments, slipping one arm under her shoulders and taking her hand in his, squeezing it encouragingly. Her face was pale and drawn with pain. One of her ladies must have braided her hair when her labour began, in order to keep it out of her eyes, but more than half of it had fallen free by now, and it clung to her face in loose tendrils.
"What's wrong?" He demanded without looking at away. He only had eyes and ears for Charlotte. He winced involuntarily as her grip on his hand tightened painfully but he wouldn't pull away from her. He could see that the muscles in her belly were tight with the effort of pushing their child into the world.
Mistress Granger scarcely spared him a glance, evidently deeming it a waste of time to try to send him out of the room and focusing her attention on Charlotte.
"You need to push for me, m'lady," she instructed briskly, massaging the swell of Charlotte's belly gently. "I can see the head crowning... the little one has a fine head of dark hair."
