A vibrant historical novel chronicling the turbulent life of Elizabeth of York, Henry VIII’s mother and the first queen of the Tudor dynasty, from the New York Times bestselling author hailed as “the finest historian of English monarchical succession writing” ( The Boston Globe ) “Superbly readable and engaging.”— Historical Novels Society Elizabeth of York is the oldest daughter of King Edward IV. Flame-haired, beautiful, and sweet-natured, she is adored by her family; yet her life is suddenly disrupted when her beloved father dies in the prime of life. Her uncle, the notorious Richard III, takes advantage of King Edward’s death to grab the throne and imprison Elizabeth’s two younger brothers, the rightful royal heirs. Forever afterward known as “the Princes in the Tower,” the boys are never seen again. On the heels of this tragedy, Elizabeth is subjected to Richard’s overtures to make her his wife, further legitimizing his claim to the throne. As if in a fairy tale, Elizabeth is saved by Henry Tudor, who challenges Richard and defeats him at the legendary Battle of Bosworth Field. Following his victory, Henry becomes king and asks Elizabeth to be his wife, the first queen of the Tudor line. The marriage is happy and fruitful, not only uniting the warring houses of Lancaster and York—the red and white roses—but producing four surviving children, one of whom, Henry VIII, will rule the country for the next thirty-six years. In The Last White Rose, Alison Weir captures the personality of one of Britain’s most important consorts, conveying Elizabeth of York’s dramatic life in a novel that is all the richer because of its firm basis in history. “Weir tells the story through Elizabeth’s eyes, narrating it in the first person. As with all her books, it is superbly readable and engaging. I doubt we will ever tire of the Tudors, not while we have novelists like Weir to bring them to life.” — Historical Novels Society “Weir provides a realistic feel for the worry Elizabeth’s family experiences as their fortunes shift, especially after Richard III usurps the throne following King Edward’s death, and her brothers disappear while in his custody. The story gives a coherent, convincing picture of the treacherous political climate and its many players and reveals why Elizabeth plots to marry Henry Tudor. . . . . Weir’s thorough approach to her subject is impressive, as is the sumptuously recreated atmosphere of late-medieval royal life.” — Booklist “A detailed and rich portrayal . . . [Weir] flawlessly presents a fictionalized account.” — Devon Life “A notable Tudor historian, Weir vividly brings [Elizabeth’s] story to life in The Last White Rose .” —The Free Lance–Star Alison Weir is the New York Times bestselling author of the novels Katheryn Howard, The Scandalous Queen; Anna of Kleve, The Princess in the Portrait; Jane Seymour, The Haunted Queen; Anne Boleyn, A King's Obsession; Katherine of Aragon, The True Queen; The Marriage Game; A Dangerous Inheritance; Captive Queen; The Lady Elizabeth ; and Innocent Traitor, as well as numerous historical biographies, including Queens of the Crusades; Queens of the Conquest, The Lost Tudor Princess, Elizabeth of York, Mary Boleyn, The Lady in the Tower, Mistress of the Monarchy, Henry VIII, Eleanor of Aquitaine, The Life of Elizabeth I , and The Six Wives of Henry VIII . She lives in Surrey, England. Chapter 1 1470 “Wake up, Bessy! Wake up!” Elizabeth stirred, roused by the unfamiliar whisper. What was her mother the Queen doing here, shaking her? It was usually Lady Berners who came to wake her with a smile and a “Good morning, my lady Princess.” But Mother was not smiling, and Lady Berners, holding a candle aloft, was standing in the doorway with Mistress Jakes, the wet nurse, who had baby Cecily in her arms. With them was Grandmother Rivers, holding a sleepy little Mary by the hand. They were all dressed for outdoors. But it was still dark and, beyond the narrow window, there was no sign of dawn breaking. “What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked, instantly awake. “Shh!” the Queen hissed, putting a finger to her lips. “We must all be very quiet. Get up and I’ll put you into some warm clothes.” Mother was dressing her? Her lady mother, whose queenly hands never deigned to do everyday tasks? Something must be badly amiss. Mother gave a faint smile. “I and my sisters had to shift for ourselves before I became queen.” She lifted Elizabeth’s night-rail over her head, put on her smock and her green woolen winter gown and wrapped her cloak around her, pulling the hood down over her face. Then she took her own cloak from Grandmother Rivers and wrapped herself in it, concealing her swollen belly. She turned to the other women. “Let us go.” There was an urgency in her lowered voice. “My lady, what’s happening?” Elizabeth asked, completely bewildered. “Hush! I will tell you later. Now, not a word. We all have to be very quiet.” The four women hurried the ch