The Queen’s Rival

Written from Tonbridge Castle

My dear long-suffering sister,

I have seen Ned. I have spoken with him. I have held him in my arms.

Such a change in him. He has become as impressive as one of the old Plantagenets, burnished with a gloss of knightly glamour.

Perhaps now Richard will come home.

Suddenly all is falling back into place, but we may not come out of this unharmed. It is so easy to forget that the evil counsellors are our own cousins. The lines of family through Neville blood and marriage are very tight, yet we would sever them without compunction. Sometimes it worries me that we can be so unthinkingly zealous. Blood will assuredly be shed.

And then I recall that we are fighting for our own survival and our rightful place in this realm, which they would deny us.

Your sister, renewed by hope,

Cecily

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