Chapter 8 Long Live the King of England.
As the royal boat made its way down the River Thames, Tom sat on a throne.
The throne was much higher than anything else on the boat.
From his seat, Tom had a wonderful view of the street festival.
He had never seen the fair from the water before.
He was surprised at how beautiful it looked.
Tom looked over at Elizabeth and Jane.
They were talking to each other.
They didn't notice the lights on shore or the people singing.
Tom realized that they must have seen this view of the fair many times before.
It wasn't so special to them.
The boat docked, and Tom, Elizabeth, and Jane were helped ashore.
As they walked over to a large hull, the crowd parted to make way for the royal trio.
Trumpets played as they walked through the door.
Everyone bowed.
A group of guards led Tom and the girls to seats on a stage.
Once the three children were seated, everyone else took their seats.
The hall was quiet for only a few minutes.
Then a celebration began.
Tom watched from his chair on the stage.
It was an incredible sight.
People started to dance.
Colors twirled around each other.
For a while, Tom forgot all about his troubles.
He forgot that he was trapped as the prince, that no one believed him and that he would surely go to jail if anyone found out the truth.
He was happily lost in the sights and sounds of the party.
How strange that while Tom was enjoying the delights of the party, the real Prince of England was outside the hall trying desperately to get in.
Edward did his best to convince the guards that he was the true Prince, but they refused to listen.
The crowd around him laughed, of course.
Edward wondered if he would ever get used to this type of laughter.
He had heard it too many times in the past two days.
He was quite certain that he did not like it.
You must believe me, Edward said.
I am the true Prince of Wales.
It is a fraud who sits inside.
Get away, boy, a woman said.
She was trying to look inside the hall.
Don't let them bother you, a man said.
Whether you are the real prince or not, they have no right to treat you that way.
Edward looked up to see a tall, thin man beside him.
Although his clothes had seen better days, he was well-dressed.
His coat was covered with patches and mismatched buttons.
He had a kind face, though.
He smiled at Edward.
My name is Miles Hendon, the man said.
He held a hand toward Edward.
The boy did not take his hand.
He nodded instead.
My name is Edward, he said.
Yes, of course, Miles replied.
It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Edward.
Miles bowed before Edward.
Let me talk to this guard for you.
When the crowd heard Miles defending the boy, they started to laugh.
Oh, look, it's another prince in disguise.
Maybe we should help them, someone else said.
Yes, the first man said.
I think they do need some help.
They need some help into the pond.
Everyone laughed.
Suddenly Edward felt a hand on his arm.
Someone was pulling him farther into the crowd.
He let out a cry and Miles pulled out his sword.
The man who was holding onto Edward's arm let go.
He backed away from Miles and the boy.
Leave him alone, Miles said.
He's none of your concern.
Others in the crowd did not seem as willing to back down.
They moved toward Miles.
They did not seem afraid of his sword.
Suddenly a trumpet sounded.
Make way for the king's messenger.
The trumpeter called, as a man appeared near the gates of the hall.
Everyone turned to watch as the man walked inside.
Miles took this opportunity to grab Edward and carry him off to safety.
Unfortunately, this meant that they missed the messenger's news news that would have been of great interest to the boy.
Inside the hall, all the partygoers stopped to listen as the king's messenger approached.
Poor Tom, he had been perfectly happy just to sit and watch the dancers.
This had been a strange day, but he was enjoying himself.
When he finally woke up from his daydream, he realized that everyone in the room was watching him.
They were all waiting for him to say that the messenger could speak.
The trumpet sounded once more, and the messenger cleared his throat.
"'The king is dead,' he said.
The room was silent.
Everyone, most importantly Tom, stared in silence.
"'The king is dead,' the messenger said again.
Everyone in the room bowed their heads and said a silent prayer.
Then they turned to Tom."
They lifted glasses or raised their hands.
"'Long live the king!' they all cheered.
Poor Tom had no idea what to do.
He looked about the room for a friendly face, someone to tell him what to do, but everyone was looking to him to make the next move.
They were all cheering for the future king.
Tom leaned over to Hertford and whispered in his ear, Is it true that I will soon be crowned king?
Tom asked.
Yes, your majesty, Hertford said.
In a few short weeks you will be named king of all of England.
Until then, you and I will go over all the details together.
I will help you ease into your new position.
By the time you are crowned, you will know everything there is to know about being king.
Tom sat in his chair, feeling miserable. future king of England.
Whatever was he to do?
