Richard steepled his fingers, deep in thought. He could not believe it had come to this. George’s life had begun with all the promise of privilege, charm, intelligence, and a happy marriage, but he had squandered a goodly, noble life for vainglorious ambition. His own antagonism towards George notwithstanding, Richard was angry at George for putting Edward in such an atrocious position. Fratricide must surely rank among the very worst of sins, and yet it would seem Edward had no choice but to condemn his brother. As well, he was adding that sin to regicide, Richard realized. Thoughts of Henry returned him yet again to the hideous scene in the Tower. It was true the regicide was on his hands not Edward’s, but he had chosen not to inform the king of the fact. Let him believe he is guilty, Richard thought spitefully, he deserves to carry the weight as well. Once again, he was reminded of his boyhood conversation with King Henry about the responsibilities of kingship. ’Tis a curse and a responsibility that is too heavy for one man. I am no God, although sometimes I must act as though I am.

Richard glanced at the gray-faced Edward, looking years older than thirty-eight, and knew now what the dead king had meant. His stomach churned at the thought of Edward’s terrible burden. Aye, Henry was right, I am glad I am the fourth son; I could never be a king.

Will Hastings approached with a pitcher to refill Edward’s cup, and the familiar ritual suddenly struck a wrong note with Richard. He did not doubt Will’s loyalty, but he abhorred his immorality. It was said that when Edward tired of a mistress, Hastings would then enjoy her. What had his glorious, golden god of a brother degenerated into?

Richard shot out a hand and stopped Will’s pouring. “My brother needs a clear head, my lord. I thank you not to add to his already troubled mind.”

Will was clearly offended, but he stepped back and looked to Edward, who, however, seemed preoccupied. “What must I do?” the king asked with desperation in his voice.

Richard took a deep breath and stated: “He is our brother, but he is a traitor. If I were the judge, I would condemn him.”

Edward slowly nodded. “I have done my best to save him all these years. Our mother has been here begging for his life in the names of our father and dead brother, and Meg’s pathetic letters have been arriving weekly since December.”

“I, too, might have asked mercy for him, Ned, but when I think of all the ways he has threatened the safety of the realm and tried to seize power for himself, I find I have no pity left for him.”