He peeked down at her resting on his chest and belly. She wrung her hands together. He wanted to kiss her again. “Did you worry this much in twenty nineteen?”
“Not on this level of seriousness. I thought worrying about paying the bills was hard. I—” She stared at him. Her eyes opened wider. “Nicholas, you believe me.”
“Aye. Aye,” he repeated more softly. “But I wish I did not.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice as soft as a sigh.
“Because you want to go back.”
More silence. He didn’t push.
“But, of course,” he said, “now I wish to know what will—”
“No. I can’t—”
“You will, Kestrel,” he insisted. “Was it ever proven that Richard killed the princes?”
“No, Nicholas. It was never proven.”
“Were they found?”
She looked away and then tried to get up. He grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
“Please, tell me what you know.”
Her big blue-green glassy eyes stared into his. She regretted having to tell him. “The bones of two small boys were found in the Tower in the sixteen hundreds. It was believed at the time that the bones belonged to the princes.”
“No,” he groaned, letting her go. “I had hoped…”
She drew him into her bosom and held him while he grieved the boys. His little brothers.
“Who did it, Kestrel?” he asked, withdrawing to look at her. “You must know.”
“I don’t,” she promised.
“The people of the future sound very clever. Is there no way to tell who killed the princes?”
“Nicholas, we don’t even know for sure if the bones belonged to them. They were buried after they were found. No one is sure where. There was no time to test them.”
“Their graves were not marked,” he said, tormented by the news.
“No,” she whispered, sounding heartbroken for the poor children, and for those who loved them.
“I was not there for them,” he said, telling her, and only her, his deepest regret while held in her arms. “I wish I had been. ’Twas why Edward did not make me their Protector. I was always away fighting for the House of York. I would seldom be here to help guide them. I could die at any time. But I did not die. And those battles could have been won without me. Even if we had lost because of my absence, the boys would be alive today and Edward V would be king.”
He felt the sting of his tears and let them fall. “’Tis my fault they are dead.”
“Nicholas, that isn’t true,” she comforted. “Did their father love them?”
“Of course.”
“And yet he made Richard their Protector?”
“He trusted his brother. So did I!”
“So, if he did this, then he fooled you all. Why would the thought cross your mind that Richard was busy having the princes declared illegitimate? No one suspected him of evil against the children. Not even his brother. There was no reason for younotto go fight and do your duty.”
“Aye,” he whispered. “Then to return and discover that Richard was the king and the boys were gone, I have pain and wrath deep inside of me toward Richard. Sometimes…I…I hope he dies in battle.”