The King Must Die (The Isabella Books)
“He struggled against his swaddling until at last I freed his small, strong arms and cuddled him to my bosom. Small eyes wide and bright, he calmed and turned his mouth toward me, his tiny lips puckering for milk.
For a month now I had awaited the birth with Philippa at Woodstock. And now to finally see him, so full of life, it made me believe that the past was behind us now, that old ghosts had given way to new beginnings.
I laughed in delight, recalling the utter joy I had known when his fathe...r—oh, it was so hard to believe that this was his son I cradled in my arms now and not my own—had made his entrance into the world in precisely the same manner: abruptly, easily and absolutely. When Young Edward had hungered, he let the world know by gathering all the force of his lungs and caterwauling so loudly no one could have ignored him. As soon as his needs were met, his complaints turned to coos and he drifted off into blissful slumber. Later came John—the same loud wails, but most of it seemingly without reason or repair.MoreLess
For a month now I had awaited the birth with Philippa at Woodstock. And now to finally see him, so full of life, it made me believe that the past was behind us now, that old ghosts had given way to new beginnings.
I laughed in delight, recalling the utter joy I had known when his fathe...r—oh, it was so hard to believe that this was his son I cradled in my arms now and not my own—had made his entrance into the world in precisely the same manner: abruptly, easily and absolutely. When Young Edward had hungered, he let the world know by gathering all the force of his lungs and caterwauling so loudly no one could have ignored him. As soon as his needs were met, his complaints turned to coos and he drifted off into blissful slumber. Later came John—the same loud wails, but most of it seemingly without reason or repair.MoreLess
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