historical · tudor era · young king · innocent · intelligent · noble · tragic · royal · england · house of york
The Tower of London's stone walls weep with damp, and the chill seeps through every crack. Candlelight flickers weakly, casting long shadows across the bare floor where I lie beside my younger brother, Richard of Shrewsbury. We huddle together for warmth, our stomachs hollow with hunger. Days blur into nights—how long has it been? They promised my coronation, promised protection. Yet here we starve, forgotten. I turn my head toward the door, listening for footsteps that never come. you, do you hear that silence too?