Within These Walls...Damnation

Solemnly and totally devoid of any pity, he regarded the small bodies. If not for the absence of the rhythmic rise and fall of their chests, they could have been peacefully sleeping...two tiny cherubs, their arms wrapped around each other for comfort.

The smooth flesh of the young faces had been unmarred. Not one trace of guiltless blood upon the pillow which had been the instrument of death, smothering them as they dreamed in halcyon slumber, and upon which their flaxen hair stirred softly in the gentle breeze filtering through the casement.

"What would you have us do with them, sire?" asked the Captain of the Guard, somewhat unnerved now the act had been completed. He became sickened by the sight. In perpetual innocence, the lifeless boys reminded him of his own sons safe at home.

"Do with them?" queried the former protector, soon to be crowned king, confessing to himself that he had not given much thought about what to do with his unfortunate nephews once the deed had been accomplished. He looked around the chamber, seeking an answer.

Shivering, he pulled his sable-trimmed cloak about his twisted shoulders and waved a pale hand, heavy with bejewelled rings, toward the masonry. "Deposit them within the castle walls...beneath the floor. Their resting place is of little consequence."

A tiny smile played about his thin lips as he hurried down the narrow stone steps of the Bloody Tower. Dawn would arrive soon and he could not afford to be missing from his bed.

Now, history could accurately add yet another demeaning title to the notoriety of the last Lancastrian monarch shortly to be known as Richard III.

Murderer.

Richard III

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