Her father sold her to the enemy to settle a political debt. The enemy's son was dead within a year. The man she married next may have been in the room when it happened.
Cecily was the youngest of her father's twenty-two children and would give birth to twelve of her own. Thirty-three years after giving birth to her youngest son, she had outlived her husband, all her sons, and the dynasty they had built.
He was a prince of the blood in a dynasty that had no use for princes of the blood who were not the king. His brother wore the crown. He carried the blood. He spent his entire life trying to close the distance between those two facts. He never came close.
In the summer of 1470 Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, knelt before Margaret of Anjou in a French court and asked for her help. She had been waiting nine years for someone with an army. He was the man who had made that wait necessary. They both understood what the meeting was. They did it anyway.
She gave birth on a ship off Calais in April 1470. The captain had refused to let them land. Her father was negotiating. The baby did not survive. The negotiations did.
She had been Queen of England. She died in a convent with nothing, having asked for a quiet funeral with no expense. No explanation was ever recorded. Henry VII never gave one.