April 9, 1483.

 Palace of Westminster.

The soft glow of twilight filtered through the heavy drapes of the chamber, casting long shadows across the room. A young boy sat beside the bed of a dying man, his expression tense with grief, overwhelmed by his inability to change what was happening.

His father was dying.

And nothing could be done. In that moment, Edward felt a sense of powerlessness unlike anything he'd ever known in his princely life.

"Edward, you've finally arrived," the man said, his voice weak as he tried—and failed—to sit up.

"When you become king, get rid of that habit of doing things late," the dying man's voice, though faint, still held its sternness.

"And a king should never show grief in front of his subjects, so get rid of that too," he continued, speaking as if in a trance. Edward remained silent, his heart heavy, until his father paused to catch his breath.

"Father... please stop. Surely there must be another way?" Edward's voice trembled as he spoke for the first time since the conversation began.

"Even the blindest man can see that I won't be escaping this one," his father replied, a half-hearted chuckle escaping his lips.

He was the king and patriarch of York, a title he had held for 21 years. He had fought countless wars, living on the edge of death more times than he could count. But now, death had finally come for him, and he knew it. The strength had left his body—this was the fifteenth day he lay on his deathbed, and he knew he wouldn't last the night. He was certain someone had poisoned him, but the poison was too potent to fight.

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He looked at his son, who was about to be thrust into this cruel world. His greatest regret was his inability to protect him until he was strong enough to survive on his own.

"Ed, I'm sorry I can't be there for you and your siblings, but you must survive. Push through for them... and for your mother," his voice barely more than a whisper.

Edward fought back tears.

"One more thing before I go..." the man lifted a trembling hand and pointed to a book on the table beside the bed. "That's our family heirloom, passed down from king to king. No one will be able to read it after you take it—assuming, of course, that I'm already gone."

Edward took the book from the table. It was small, about a hundred pages, bound in red leather with no title. As he flipped through it, he saw that all the pages were blank. But after hearing what his father said, he knew they wouldn't remain empty for long. As soon as his father died, ownership would pass to him, and the secrets within would be revealed.

Though unwilling, he knew there was no other way.

"After I'm gone, make sure to memorize it well. Then lock it away somewhere safe."

After saying this, the man closed his eyes, as if drifting off to sleep. Edward slowly stood, turning to leave, but before he reached the door, his father spoke one last time.

"People who play stupid games... get stupid rewards." With that, he fell into a final, peaceful sleep.

Edward quietly closed the door behind him and walked down the long, empty hallway. His father's words echoed in his mind. A drop of something wet landed on his hand—he touched his face and realized he was crying.

'Father, I guess I can't become a great king like you.'

Wiping his tears, a sense of purpose began to rise within him.

'Even so... I'll try my best.'

"Are you crying?"

A little girl stood in front of him, her emerald eyes gleaming with amusement.

"I'm not. You must be seeing things," Edward replied, quickly brushing away the evidence.

The little girl was his sister.

"Liar."

…

Meanwhile, in the room Edward had just left, a woman entered and sat in the same chair where he had been. Her expression mirrored his, filled with sorrow.

"Looks like you're leaving before me," the woman's voice was hoarse.

"On the bright side, it means I'll be preparing myself for when you join me," the man replied, though he was too weak to open his eyes.

The woman broke down, weeping.

"Protect the kids... for me alright, honey."

And with that, the room fell silent.

She stayed by his side, determined to be with her husband until the very end.