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The sound of Stanley’s voice calling for treason reminded him of b e t r a y a l . He should have known better. He never trusted him, not truly. It reminded him of when he was a child, and his father and his brother, Edmund, were beheaded by the hands of the she-wolf, Marguerite d’Anjou. It was the sound treason in the eyes of God and Men. He should have expected it. She should have seen it. As the Stanley’s man charged to him, he went back to that gloomy day of his childhood. He remembered his Mother falling to her feet, crying and yelling. He had never seen his Mother going mad. He had never seen the M a d n e s s of a woman until that day.
Then, as they continued to come towards him, he remembered when he was first injured in battle. He remembered how his Mother tended his wound. How she nursed him as if she was still her little baby. That day, he met a mother’s u n c o n d i t i o n a l l o v e.
When he fell from his horse, he remembered two things. First was when he fell from his horse back as a child in Warwick Castle. The s h a m e he felt that day. His brothers watched him. He was a prince of England who fell from a horse. What made it worse was that Lady Isabel and Lady Anne Neville were there present. Lady Isabel laughed, following the laughter of Edward and George. Anne did not. Anne was different. Anne got off from her horse and helped him up. She asked him if she was alright, if he felt any pain. He l i e d and said that he was okay. The pain he felt that day was just as strong as when he saw Lady Anne– the Princess Anne– as she corrected him, laying on the floor, men all around her with the hopes of ravaging her tender body. He imprisoned the man who threw her down to the grass. Her h o n o r was just as important as his.
He, as men kicked him, he remembered how he asked for Anne when she was pardoned. George as usual told l i e s, saying that Anne was grieving. A N N E. His thoughts became only now of Anne. He felt a spark of joy running through his body when he remembered when he found her in an Inn. He had never been so amused on his life. He had never seen Lady Anne dirty. That day, became the only day in his life. He took her to sanctuary where he asked her to marry him, which resulted in Anne telling him to make her his w i f e in that moment. Throughout his childhood, he expected to make her his wife, and on that night, he wedded her, and he made l o v e to her like he had never loved a woman in his life.
A few months later after making her his wife, her belly became swollen. His wife was making a baby inside of her. His baby. His son. His heir. His life. He still remembered the first s t e p s of his son. He also remembered the time when Ned first raised his hand at his Anne, his Mother. He was d i s s a p o i n t e d on his son that day. He was seven years old.
He could feel now the steel penetrating his flesh. The p a i n was insane, but not as big as the day he lost his son. The day he lost his baby. His son. His heir. Half of his life. Yet, the pain was not as strong as the day when the Death impersonated the Sun, and took his Anne from him. He was bleeding to death. He could smell his own blood, but he thought of Anne and his Ned. The day he lost Anne, he knew that he had lost himself. Without Anne, he had no honour. Without Anne, he had nothing to f i g h t for.
Suddenly, he stopped thinking. Suddenly he felt no pain. He opened his eyes and saw the field clear. There was no one.
“Am I dead?” Richard asked.
He felt so peaceful and so . . . he felt as when he had everything. He felt as when he had Anne, and his Ned.
“Am I dead?” His voice was a whisper now.
He could hear laughter now. He could hear . . . he could hear his Father’s voice. That voice, how he had missed that voice. Behind him was his brothers, and behind his brothers he saw a familiar silhouette running after a smaller silhouette.
“Papa!”
Richard now knew where he was. He was the in the Kingdom of Heaven. Ned was there, and his Anne was walking towards him. She did not say a word but he could hear her thoughts. He could read her eyes. She look like the sun. She was his old Anne. The Anne full of life. An Anne not corrupted by politics.
“You are in heaven, my love.”
With that, he followed her. Afterlife was already better than his life in Earth. He could see it. Ned was strong. Ned climbed trees and he fell from them without being harmed, and Anne. She looked as stronger as the day he married her. They were now full of live. They were living.