Chapter One: Forgiving the Past
Readers of My Story
may recall my old foes the Grey Men, the Palace bureaucrats who found me insufficiently royal in every way: my dress, my bearing, the friends I kept. They did what they could to make my life a misery, with a strong assist from myself, of course. After leaving their milieu, I'd had no contact with any of these gentlemen for an age -- until last year, when I strolled down a street in Mayfair and passed an art shop. There in the window sat an original portrait, by a well-known painter, of one of the top courtiers.
I didn't think twice. I bought the portrait and sent it to the...