AD1036
Edward eyed the coastline before him as the ship bucked and twisted with the waves. It had been too long since he’d last seen the country of his birth. For a moment, he allowed himself to hope and believe that the words sent by his mother via a messenger who’d slipped free from England to reach him in Normandy were both genuine and possible.
They’d seemed simple enough. A request, no a plea for him to return to Winchester and finally claim his birthright as the true heir to England, descended from the long-line of the Wessex royal family. Well, for he and his brother to claim their birthright. Even now, Alfred was attempting the same journey as his from Normandy, only towards a different location in England and from Bolougne. As much as the thought of going home drove them, Edward argued against travelling together. Two æthelings, throne-worthy son of England, in the same boat or flotilla was asking for problems. It was better to be wary and travel separately.
The English people, and almost all of the great lords and ladies of the kingdom, didn’t know him or his brother. The English had been forced to languish under the commands of a Danish-born king for nearly two decades. Edward hoped they’d relish the return of an English-born king to rule them, even if they were strangers to one another.
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