She is my wife. If she were to arrive here she would not have name, wealth nor power. There is nothing she could do. [And same went for her in their home, as well. With the caveat that back in London she could very well destroy him by spreading the rumors. But it would also mean the end to her and their son Edward. Anne was tethered to him whether she wanted it or not.

There is a painful sting in Richard's chest when Silco brings up his kingmaker again. The desperation hammering into his heart like a sharp wooden stake. He hates just how mentioning the possibility of Buckingham arriving is enough to fill him with the merciless hope, clawing new wounds to his soul over the old ones. It reminded him of the days of the past when he had looked at different source of light - hoping to see a glimpse of those gentle eyes looking at his way. The memory brought a sour taste to his mouth, making Richard loathe himself even more.]

..It's not that. [Because in the end, it wasn't this connection that he was ashamed of. No, the source for it lied with himself and his own, bottomless pit of self-hate. Despite their shared similarities in privacy, Richad was not like Silco. He could not let the people see the monster that he was in broad daylight.] Why haven't you told her yet?