The Diary of A King's Mistress

18th January 1668

        Last night I dreamt of the man I had aided. I know if the king were to know that it would peradventure mean torture. For this day, I assayed not to think of the man but it was a true challenge. His dreamy light eyes and perfect smile caused my heart to burst from my ribs. Thinking of him for only a moment caused a notion I should not be having since I am practically betrothed to the king.

        The King requested my company for a morning stroll and I granted him it. Unlike other days, he seemed distant as if I had upset him. I feared maybe he discovered the man in my room. My palms became sweaty and my heartbeat raced and I avoided eye contact with him even when he attempted to talk to me. Eventually, he stopped me and asked what had troubled me and I made an excuse saying I was just unable to sleep well due to the distance between my family and I. It appeared that he trusted my explanation and offered me some herbs to assist my inability to sleep. I agreed in hopes of keeping my words validated.

        He returned me to my chambers after the stroll and gave me a kiss upon the back of my hand. I was unable to contain the blush of my cheeks. His smile warmed my heart but I imagined it to be Oliver.

        This admiration has occupied my mind so extremely that I am unable to think of anything else. It has only passed one day but I feel as if my path has intertwined with his. Similar to that in the literary world, he was the hero that the damsel fell for...the only difference was I was no damsel...