He had convinced the Holy Roman Emperor that he was the rightful King of England. He watched from his ship as the men of Kent lured his soldiers ashore with friendly words and killed them on the beach. He never set foot on English soil.
He spent thirteen years performing a loyalty he had already decided to destroy. On the morning he betrayed it he was waiting for the right moment. He knew what the moment would look like. He had been waiting for it since 1472.