Richard knelt and kissed Henry’s ring as the king sat on the very throne Richard had dared to touch not twenty days before. “I swear to Almighty God and all His saints that I will honor you, Henry, as my sovereign lord until the end of your days, and that I shall do nothing to hurt or diminish your reign or royal dignity, nor do anything or consent to anything that might lead to the endangerment or ending of your natural life. So help me God.”

It was the first time Dickon had seen King Henry since Ludlow. There at least, the king had looked like a soldier. Today, a thin, limp figure, with a passive face, and drab in his brown robes, he looked more like a mournful monk than a monarch. Young as he was, even Dickon could contrast the king with his magnificent subject Edward, earl of March, who now stepped forward and knelt. Ned looks like a real king, Dickon thought to himself, as his brother’s strong voice echoed in the chamber while giving his pledge. It was odd he had not thought the same of his father.

Henry ratified the agreement in a soft monotone—not like a king at all, disillusioned Dickon thought. To Dickon the king seemed as dejected as the boy often felt when rebuffed by George or ignored by his father. Although he could not appreciate the ignominious position Henry had been put in, and how it was to the king’s credit that his voice held no malice or bitterness as he disinherited his own son, Dickon felt sorry for him.

“I, Henry, by the grace of God, king of England and France and Lord of Ireland, do recognize the claim to the throne of Richard, duke of York and his heirs, which shall be theirs at the time of my death and not before.” He looked up from the written statement, his sad eyes sweeping the chamber and coming to rest on the small boy sitting in the gallery next to his mother, the king’s friend and sometimes champion. The boy and the king locked gazes for a second, and Dickon, moved by the king’s focus on him, placed his hand upon his heart. I am loyal to you, my sovereign lord, the instinctive gesture seemed to say. A glimmer of a smile lit the king’s face before he returned to his paper and continued to read:

“I charge all persons here to put it abroad that it shall be considered an act of high treason for any person to conspire against the said duke’s life. And now, my lords, you must swear to uphold this agreement and all its particulars with the duke, as he must now swear to defend you from those who would object to it. Do you swear?”