But now, the procession was reaching the Tower, its gleaming walls freshly limed for the occasion and the pointed turrets of the massive central White Tower festooned with banners. The fortress guardian of the capital city was ready to receive another king of England into its royal apartments for the traditional coronation eve. Richard was duly awed. His brother would be crowned on the morrow, and Richard was to be initiated into the Order of the Bath that very night.

How had Lady Fortune smiled on the house of York in such a short time? Richard pondered this question as he waved and smiled to the cheering citizens, as well as how Edward had miraculously come to be king at all.

Richard had been so happy to see his family again that in the euphoria of reunion he had suppressed his need to know how such a thing as two kings was possible. One day, kneeling beside his mother at prime when Edward was elsewhere, he whispered: “Don’t cry, Mam. I miss Father, too, you know. God is looking after him now—and Edmund—and I pray for them daily.”

Cecily turned her head and gazed thoughtfully at her son through her tears. “Thank you, Richard, I shall take comfort from that,” she answered, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

As the small family group returned to the duchess’s solar to break their fast, Richard sneaked his hand in Cecily’s. “Tell me how Ned came to be king, Mother,” he pleaded. “No one else will take the time to explain. Messire de Gruthuyse in Bruges told us Ned had won a victory, but what happened to King Henry? If the king was not killed, then shouldn’t Henry still be king?”

It was a story Cecily never tired of repeating and one which, no doubt, had become embellished in her proud maternal mind. But before she could begin, suspicious George, who had noticed the tête-à-tête, had poked his head between them, asked: “Are you talking about me?”

“You are not always the center of our attention, Georgie,” Cecily reminded him with a chuckle, unwittingly filling George with resentment. “Dick…I mean Richard was asking why your brother is now the king. I assumed you both had heard all about it at Duke Philip’s court, but I am certainly happy to regale you further.”

“I know the story,” George boasted and stalked off, leaving Cecily perplexed.