The Diary of A King's Mistress

14th February, 1668

        As a progeny, I had assumed love was something shared in a family. Brother to sister and son to mother. That was before I encountered Gabriel. He revealed emotions in me and conjured thoughts I would have never thought otherwise. Awaking on this day, I found his warm embrace to be as welcoming as mother's fresh pastries. It was then I discovered the land we were on was that of Fate's Whisper. My home. The same dirt roads that were covered with people I had known since I was a child, the scent of newfangled flowers and food I was unsure of origin, and the sounds of conversation among peers and elders.

        Dressing for the day in clothes they would find appropriate, I descended from the ship and to the ground. The feeling was orgasmic. This was a place I missed so deeply and I was unaware so. For years, I desired an escape. Adventure, romance, and finding myself even. Since I had accomplished this, I now ventured for the home of my family. The one beside the meadows and near the fields in which my brother and I would run and play.

        Memories of my brother were now constant in my mind. His voice was now becoming difficult to remember but I attempted nonetheless. Roaming down the pathways, I found myself direct from my home. Nothing had changed aside from the feeling I achieved when standing before it. The occasion in which I was in such a position before-I was unmarried and desperate for attention and love even though I had been unaware of this.

        Now, my palms were damp and I wiped them upon my dress. My fingers trembled as I placed my hand in a fist and knocked upon the door to find my father open it. I was amazed at what was before me. The man I looked up to had changed so greatly. Physically, he was now at least a potato bag or so heavier with longer hair that separated in the middle of his scalp and flared on either sides. His expression of my presence was as if I were my brother instead. Yet, he welcomed me. Inside my home was now nearly bare. Dust had accumulated on nearly every surface even the books that father used to keep pristine before. No portraits of anyone aside from an unknown female hung in the home and the fireplace was empty aside from some ashes in a far corner.

        As I asked the details for the time of my absence, he would alter the topic of conversation and explain to me in a philosophical way how life changes. I knew this from my latest adventures and told him how I was now in love. His response was nonexistent. My mind conjured the moment in which King Edmund had declared my father's trade for money for I. He froze like ice and fell before his knees in tears. He begged my forgiveness before I discovered documents upon his desk. The design of them told me he was now poor. It explained the lack of decor but I asked him about the portrait. He told me the woman's name was Helena. His lover whom had left him.

        My heart broke before me as his arms wrapped around my waist. His desperation made me treasure how I was wealthy with love. He was an isolated man with not so much as a proper medical tool in his possession. After he climbed to his feet, I explained to him how I would help him and he wrapped his arms around me. I was never the girl to hold a flame. But I would never forget what he had done.

        I turned to make my way back to the dock to find conversation about my family. Never in all the time I resided here had I heard anyone say my name so my ears were burning as they spoke. Using a house then a post, or anything I could secrete behind, I took advantage of as I followed the women who spoke of my family name.

        So much had altered since I left. My mother had gone mad after discovering my father with another woman. She had attempted to stab the woman on one occasion and strangle her in another. My father had become the town laugh. A once infamous doctor-known for his work particularly with abortions and surgeries, he was now known as that "old beggar from the field house". As for me, I was thought to have died or been killed by my mother conspired one of the women. Another believed I was the King's mistress. How I hated the combination of words. The other thought I married a wealthy man and never returned. I believe in a way they were all correct. Since I left, I was no longer Graceanna Hathaway. A piece of my soul was dead, I had been with the King-although not in the way they expected, and I was married to a wealthy man. But there was all so much they lacked to know.

        It makes me curious to know if they knew I had been eavesdropping. Would they have still spoke in such a way? Would they have been happy to see I was alive and well? Or would I be another theory to them?