Henry stopped. "What…What is it?"
Lionel looked as if he would rather be dragged behind one of the horses than speak. "Your Highness…"
"Lionel," Henry snapped, "for the love of God, speak."
Lionel bowed his head lower. "His Grace Thomas Fitzroy took his last breath, Sire," Lionel said.
"What?" Henry looked from Lionel to Stephen, as if one of them might have the decency to correct what had just been said. "What?"
Stephen made a sound low in his throat in grief. His face had gone pale and his hands tightened at his sides.
Henry stared at him, then back at Lionel. "What are you saying? I saw him before I left the palace. He was fine. He was breathing. He was…" His mouth struggled around the last words. "My son."
Movement returned to him all at once. He snatched the reins from Lionel's hand and swung onto the horse with reckless speed.
"Your Highness!" Lionel called. "Your gloves!"
