Within These Walls...Dispensation

Solemnly and sadly, he took stock of the small bodies...sons of his own deceased brother. Angelic, they lay as if sleeping, holding each other close in death as they had in life.

Sighing, he reached out and stroked Edward's flaxen hair, a glowing halo by moonlight around the head of the boy king. The flushed cheek had not yet adopted the pallor of death and was still warm to the touch.

"What would you have us do with them, my liege?" asked the Captain of the Guard. The lifeless innocents unnerved him and the sight made him sick to his stomach. He thought of his own sons, safe and snug at home in their straw beds.

"Do with them?" queried the dazed former protector, wondering how it had come to this. Tradition demanded a regal funeral with all due ceremony...but such meant questions. Questions to which he feared he could supply no answers. Perhaps it would be best, for the moment, to suppress the horrendous news.

Shivering, he pulled his sable-trimmed cloak about his shoulders and waved a pale and trembling hand toward the masonry. "Deposit them within the castle walls or beneath the floor, but be gentle and say nothing of this night."

He took a final look at the princes before fleeing from the chamber, praying that he could somehow find peace and forgiveness for his abandonment...and for his reluctance to search out the insidious perpetrators.

Doubtless history would now add yet another demeaning title to the notorious falsehoods which surrounded the last monarch from the House of Lancaster.

Richard III...hunchback...coward...murderer...and misunderstood.

Richard III

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