The year is 1464.
The War of the Roses rages on; a great showdown between Lancaster and York.
Yet, asleep in her bed, fiery-haired Melissa Woodville dreams of splintered shields, broken swords, and the resounding screams of wounded men in the Battle...
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THE CHATTER FILLED the air as soon as they were out of the duchesses' earshot. Melissa closed her eyes as her sisters began talking over one another, gasping and gossiping over the words that had just been spoken. The only ones who were silent were her mother, Elizabeth, and Melissa, herself.
"Why was she so mean?" Little Catherine was wondering, yanking on Melissa's sleeve inquisitively.
"They say she's a dragon in disguise." Martha whispered, eliciting a squeak from Cat, who shook her head in denial.
"Well, whatever she is, her words were awfully nasty." Mary declared, looking to the still silent Elizabeth, who seemed to be lost in thought.
"We will not ponder upon her poison." Their mother seemed to gather herself from her stupor. "Go to your father, girls. Melissa, Elizabeth, and I have much to discuss."
"But--!" Catherine began to protest, only to stop when Anne shepherded her away, along with the rest of their sisters.
After the younger girls had left, Jacquetta turned to Melissa expectantly.
"Where can we talk?"
"Follow me." She murmured, still rather baffled by the turn of events.
The three silently made the trek to Melissa's chambers, the red-head leading in front of them. Courtiers flattened themselves against the walls as the Woodvilles passed, staring inquisitively at their new queen, torn between admiration and disgust. Feelings for Elizabeth were, quite apparently, mixed.
Once they had reached the doors to her chambers, Melissa pushed them open and walked in. Everything was as she had left them that morning; her bed tidily made, small velvet pillows scattered on top of the soft emerald sheets. Her little vanity, covered with ribbons and small hair adornments stood to the corner, a series of three chaises at the opposite end of the room, accompanied by a small table which had a vase placed on it, containing the rose Richard had given her at the festivities. It was all but wilted now, but the girl could not bring herself to part from it.
