I've come up with yet another solution to their disappearance, but drafted it in the form of a letter (just because it amused me to do so):
Quote:
Dear Mother,
You sent me off to play at being Prince of Wales when I was three. What did you expect that to do to a kid? And now I am king but no one will listen to me anyway, so it was all for nothing. But perhaps not quite nothing. One thing it did was make me capable of acting on my own initiative, and that's what I'm going to do.
Little brother Richard and I have talked it through and decided you and our sisters are all power mad witches who care nothing for us or each other, and we want nothing more to do with you. After lights out tonight, Richard and I are going to sneak out and make our way to Wales. I have friends there that will take us in and we can lead a life of monastic anonymity and put my excellent education to better use than fighting endless wars.
I leave it to you and my power hungry uncle to squabble over the pieces. The survivor can make up whatever story suits best; I am sure you can find some suitable bodies to fill our places if that becomes necessary.
Your King and son,
Edward V
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