Maid of Norway, Queen of Scotland: A Plantagenet Britain Timeline
- Thread starter pandizzy
- Start date
You're a girl of culture. That was my intention, but hopefully their fates will be better that a cuckold failure of a king gutted by a boar, and an honorable man who did not stand a chance in court beheaded by his own sword
But he's not, really. The Brus/Bruce family held lots of lands in England too, so he can legitimately claim that he's answering the King of England's call to arms. OTL, before Longshanks tried to take over Scotland, many lords on both sides of the border fought for both Scottish and English kings - the bonds of family and the rewards of warfare generally outweighed any national loyalty, with most lords not really considering themselves either Scottish or English (or, often, French) but instead just 'Lord of xxxx'.
Chapter XXVIII - A Sorrowful Goodbye
September 1294. Beaumont Palace, England.
Margaret stood at the steps of the royal residence, the wind snapping her skirts. She closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again, looking at the crowd of people that prepared to leave. Hundreds of men said their goodbyes to wives, daughters and sisters under the eye of the Lord, their female relations giving them what could be a final blessing. The King and the Prince sat atop their horses and Margaret heard the women around her whispering about King Edward’s decision to take his son with him to France.
It was unnatural, certainly. Prince Édouard was a child, just like her. Should children go to war now? Was that the state of the world?
And everything sounded so unfair. Margaret couldn’t stop thinking that the King had done this to punish her for refusing to call her armies. He took Édouard away from her, supposedly to teach him how to rule, but she was sure it was to prevent her from having her betrothed by her side. He was taking away her chance to grow and fall in love next to her intended husband.
She met the Prince’s eyes and he pressed his mouth together in a sad expression. Margaret tried to look sympathetic and happy, but she was sure her smile had come off as off-putting. Édouard raised a hand in greeting and she raised her own, recognizing his gesture.
The King was expected to arrive in France before the end of October and had left his cousin Edmund of Almain as regent. Rumours said he considered the Queen to be too young, as she was just one and twenty years of age. And the unfortunate timing of her latest delivery was counted against her, as she hadn’t been churched yet.
Margaret knew the regent would let her stay in lavish accommodations. He had no choice but to. They had met before, when he welcomed her to England, and Margaret was aware that he knew how important her marriage to Prince Édouard was. He wouldn’t wish to see her leave, even if it would be difficult to keep her in England without her consent.
The previous night, she had come to a realisation. The King and the regent could not offend Scotland by forcing her to stay and neither could she permit herself to never return. If she did, she’d betray not just her heart, but her country and her father, who agreed that she would one day marry Prince Édouard.
When the King ordered his men to resume their departure, Margaret gestured for Lady Egidia. Her eyes continued focused on Édouard, who smiled sadly as he coaxed his horse into a trot and left, following behind the King. She didn’t know when he would return and her heart stuttered painfully into her chest.
Egidia stopped by her side, her face twisted in a sour expression. Margaret waited until the King and the Prince were out of sight before she said, “I want to return to Scotland.”
Her governess frowned. “My lady?” she asked in a gentle voice.
“There is nothing for me here,” Margaret said. “The King and his son will fight in France for what can be years and I have no wish to stay in a foreign court, waiting for their return.” She looked at Egidia and then turned her head slightly, to look at her Scottish household standing behind her. Many men had left for the war due to their family’s lands in England, but most had stayed. She turned back to Egidia. “It’s time we come home.”
Louvre Palace, Kingdom of France.
The tension in the air was thick as each person dined in silence, the candles flickering in nerves, as if they too were afraid. Edmund, Earl of Lancaster held tightly to his knife as he sipped from his wine, eyes never leaving the face of the youth that sat across from him. The hairs at the back of his neck were raised in nerves and he was acutely aware of the guards that surrounded them.
He looked back at the man before him. King Philip, a tall and willowy male with slick black hair and blue eyes, long-fingered hands moving carefully as he ate the food offered. He wore expensive red velvet, but his face was neutral and serious. Beside him was Queen Jeanne, a plump and plain woman with auburn eyebrows and a maternity smock, as her latest pregnancy had just been announced.
Beside him was Edmund’s wife, Blanche, the Countess of Lancaster and once Queen of Navarre. She was quiet, but she could feel the strained air around them, thick enough to cut through with a blade, and her nervous eyes went between her and Jeanne, and then to Philip, as if trying to decide who would loosen the first arrow.
Jeanne looked at Edmund, pale skin flushed. “Is there something wrong, father?” she asked in a gentle voice. “You’ve barely eaten.”
“I’m not hungry,” Edmund answered. He smiled tightly at her before returning his eyes to the King. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
The King said nothing for a moment before he smiled, though the grin did not reach his eyes.
“My dear father,” he said, “If you’re bothered by something, then I’d be happy to send my personal doctor to see you.” He brought a spoonful of soup to his mouth and Edmund thought to throttle him, if only his stepdaughter was not present and carrying one of the man’s children.
“It’s not my health that bothers me, Your Grace,” Edmund said. Blanche gripped his wrist as a silent warning, but he shook off her hold. “It’s the disregard that you have shown to my family, to my niece, that was betrothed to your son.” And it was a legal agreement that bound Constance and young Louis, Edmund knew. The King of France had broken the laws of God and men for his ambition.
“I cannot explain to you that which does not matter,” Philip answered. “The children are mine to do with as I please, my father, and to arrange their marriages as befits France’s interest first and foremost.”
“The day a duke’s daughter comes before that of a king is the day I grow cold in my grave.” When he finished speaking, Edmund stood up. “Come, my lady. It’s clear we have no love left in this court.” Without looking, the Earl of Lancaster left the room, determined to put all that was French behind him.
He is! Hopefully the carpetian line won't flame out so absolutely spectacular this time!
She's expecting Isabella right now if the timeline will remain the same!
I really loved this chapter!
So, it seems that we will have two homecomings soon, with Edmund returning to Englsna, and Margaret going back to Scotland, with both leaving lands they made a home for themselves (and found love in, though I am not really knowledgeable about Blance-Edmund relationship, I think the small interaction they had makes it clear they at least care about each other), after grievous insults they received (or thought to receive, in the case of Margaret)
So, it seems that we will have two homecomings soon, with Edmund returning to Englsna, and Margaret going back to Scotland, with both leaving lands they made a home for themselves (and found love in, though I am not really knowledgeable about Blance-Edmund relationship, I think the small interaction they had makes it clear they at least care about each other), after grievous insults they received (or thought to receive, in the case of Margaret)
Sing me a song about the maid that have gone, say can that maid be the Queen. Saddened by soul, she rode on a day, over the road to Scotland 🎼
Probably they are not away very long. Probably 1 - 3 years at most. But even on these times for child already one year was long time.
“Dude, where’s my Mar”? -Edouard once he returns to England