The Forgotten Princess (Forgotten Royals)

Chapter Two

Never trust Yorks.

The words echoed as my heart thundered. Though I had known I was walking into a den of lions, I had been unprepared to be seated beside a serpent.

In the last months of her life, my mother had given me that warning about Yorks. After our family's suffering, I didn't question it. Even though I had once had a much warmer opinion of Richard of Conisburgh.

When I first met this son of York, he seemed like a golden knight, a Lancelot of dreams to my young eyes. He rode up to our castle, fearless of the dangers of traveling through a war-ravaged land. Our time together was brief, but infatuation had blossomed inside me. Never cruel like other young men, he would talk to me as if I were a person instead of just a girl. He joked about topics in a way that would scandalize most people. Unlike others, he could take losing to me with a gracious smile and a promise that it would be the last time he lost. Surrounded by hard-faced soldiers, he seemed like sun after days of rain.

Our families had strong connections and a small part of me had hoped for marriage. My brother had once been heir to the throne and Richard was the son of the Duke of York. A marriage between us would have been fitting. As I grew older, I understood it was impractical. Richard might descend from royalty, but he had no fortune or lands. Of course, that didn't make it impossible, just unlikely. But now I feared the gentle knight had been a facade, and he was no better than the opportunists who gathered at King Henry's court, playing lethal games with the lives of innocents.

The winter day darkened, eliminating the little light that streamed in through the windows. Shadows passed over Richard's face, obscuring his reaction to my question. Despite my hunger, I kept my gaze fixed on, waiting for him to answer.

"You are referring to the events of earlier this year?" Richard asked, his voice less than a whisper.

"Events? That's a mannerly way of saying that your siblings attempted to abduct my little brother." I took another drink of my wine, allowing it to spread warm courage through me. "Perhaps it's nothing to you, but your family ruined mine."

He shot a look toward the king. "I wasn't involved in that."

I curled my lip. "Would you have me believe that your brother and sister were up to their ears in intrigue and you knew nothing?"

His head lowered a bit. "My siblings... think little of me, Lady Anne. They wouldn't have wanted my involvement."

His words threw me. For months I had worked myself into a rage against every member of the York family, but particularly him. It hurt more that I had once considered him a friend.

That I once wanted him to be something more.

"I have trouble believing it," I said, keeping my voice as muted as possible. "You visited my stepfather and lady mother during it all."

Despite my anger with him, I didn't point out that he brought missives to my family. I wasn't one to shy away from a rightful accusation, but still didn't want to bring the wrath of the king upon him. If the Lancaster king could execute an archbishop in a brutal manner, he wouldn't think twice about doing it to a young man.

Instead of giving a passionate declaration of his innocence, Richard stared at the king's banner.

"God's bones!" I huffed. "Can't you even deny it?"

A part of me wanted a denial. I wanted to believe that not all men would hurt others for power. I wanted to believe his kindness had been genuine, and he hadn't just been playing with me. It was a childish hope, the kind that my little sister would have.

But I still hoped.

"Do I deny that my family uses me?" He let out a defeated sigh. "Of course I'm a pawn when they need it. But if I were guilty of what you say, wouldn't I have been punished like my siblings?"