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.
It was the day Edward V was supposed to be crowned. "Bastard slips shall not take deep root." That was the sermon text chosen for the twenty-second of June 1483.
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.