"Thank you." Lionel said. He dismissed the guard with a small nod and slipped the parchment inside his doublet. There would be time to read it after the wedding. At least, Lionel hoped there would be.
The great doors of Whitehall opened. Every guard in the courtyard straightened. Henry emerged with Stephen beside him.
Stephen's endless fussing had produced something magnificent. The king's ceremonial doublet had been fashioned from cloth of gold and deep crimson velvet. Pearls and gemstones caught the morning light at his collar and cuffs. The crown rested on his head.
Lionel wished Richard, Duke of Kingsmere, had been standing beside him to witness it. Whatever had passed between them, Richard had once been Henry's closest companion. He should have been there to see his friend step into history.
Instead, he was somewhere across the Channel.
