The Forgotten Princess (Forgotten Royals)

Epilogue

Richard

Was this a game to you?

Her words from that Christmas haunted me almost a decade later. For someone who had such fury at people playing with the lives of her family, she learned to do the same. But she was always careful with her moves, never risking more than she could afford to lose.

But she misjudged her last move and died giving birth to our son. Memories of her lifeless body tormented me. I tried remembering her as the defiant young woman in the Lancaster court, dressed in white, forced to be her own champion, since no one else would do it for her.

I wanted that to be my last memory when I died tomorrow.

An unfinished letter laid on a table by the chessboard. I needed to send it, but was unable to find the words to finish a goodbye to my children. Only a little afternoon light trickled in from the window. Noises drifted from outside, taunting me with the world I was about to lose. Sweat drenched my shirt, not from nerves, but from the suffocating room. I took a deep breath and almost choked on the musty air. All I wanted was to breathe in the flowery scent of the woman I loved more than anything.

The gray walls of the chamber serving as my cell could not distract me from the ghosts of my past. My mother who abandoned me in a world that didn't want me. A father who never claimed me. My first child, named for that fucking king who probably was glad to hear of the babe's death, if he cared at all.

Anne. The first person in this world who really saw me. One of the only people who ever loved me.

King Henry's cold gaze haunted me. No longer Prince Hal, he now had his father's name and his stolen throne. He was preparing to depart for a great war with France. The kingdom loved him and if he had his victory, he would be remembered forever. If he had his way, my wife's legacy would be forgotten.

When I died, would anyone remember Anne?

I looked at the crucifix on the wall. I should probably pray in the last hours of my life. A bastard traitor like me needed all the prayers possible if I didn't want to spend an eternity in hell. But praying didn't save my wife.

I expected to spend the next few hours alone, so surprise jolted me when the guards let in a visitor. Anne's servant Catrin entered, followed by my three-year-old son and four-year-old daughter.

"How did you ever get permission?" I asked Catrin after embracing my confused children.

She tossed her head. "My lord, do you think I never learned how to play clever moves after spending so much time with your lady wife?"

I let out a soft laugh, then patted the head of my son, Richard. Hopefully, it would always stay on his neck. I would have to pray that he inherited his mother's clever way of playing the game.

My son began babbling childish things, happy to see his father. Isabella gave me a more solemn look, staring with her mother's eyes. She had far too much wisdom for her age. Her responses were muted when I asked her questions about the trip and what she thought of Southampton.

"How did you ever get here in time?" I asked Catrin when the children had fallen silent.

"You were supposed to be departing for France, your lady wife thought you'd want to say farewell to your children." She raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you did not tell Countess Maud that you were planning regicide with your pack of fools."

Anne's faithful servant had never approved of my remarriage. But before Anne gave birth to Richard, she made me promise to remarry if anything happened to her.

"And make sure it's a more sensible match than me," she had said. "Someone with money or property. An ally if the day ever comes."

Despite my reluctant promise, it took me three years before I could bring myself to go through with it. And now I would be leaving Maud Clifford as a widow of a traitor. Perhaps I shouldn't have bothered.