The Diary of A King's Mistress

22nd January, 1668

        I awoke this morning to find the King requesting my presence. My chambers had been cluttered with dresses of all origin from the finest from France to the most unique from Japan. There was a beautiful lace dress made entirely of a lilac color that seemed feminine and clean-this was my choice. I then placed a flower in my hair that I found on my balcony left there by Oliver. The petals on the flower made me believe it had been handled incredibly with care-this was how he made my heart feel-cared for and loved even protected.

        As I made my way to the King's room, I heard guards discuss the King's angry attitude due to a political deal that had turned sour. Two men opened the doors before me and I inhaled a deep breath before entering. The King was pacing with his hands behind his back and clenched fists. He demanded for me to sit upon the bed and be patient as he thought. I did as he requested but not without looking around the room. Maps, letters, contracts, even paintings of other women were strewn all throughout, a few paintings made my cheeks blush.

        About an hour passed before the King came over to me and placed his hand over mine. His eyes were in a state of vexation as his hands were fast and rough. King Edmund began his hand upon my cheek, it was a revelation to discover his hand attempt to move upon my leg under my gown. As a lady, I found this to be incredibly uncomfortable and I moved myself from his presence and moved to the opposite side of his chambers. His expression then grew angry and he came to me and held me tightly in his grasp nearly shaking sense out of me. When he released me, I fell to the floor dizzy and bedim vision. I felt as if the floor would crumble beneath me. The King then picked me from my ill position and used his hand to express his anger, leaving a red impression on my cheek. I held my cheek and ran from his chambers, running down the corridor quick and not taking one moment to look to see if he followed or had me followed. My escape led me to the forest, where I then was taken against a tree by a man who placed his hand over my mouth. I used my teeth and bit on his finger to force release which I was granted. As I pulled away, I saw the man to reveal it to be Oliver. He stood in confusion and waited for an explanation-one I was not willing to grant.

        I swear at least five minutes passed before the silence was broken. First, interrogating my presence in the dark forest-then his reason also. He explained to me how he was venturing to see me but it was a story I did not believe. Claw marks on his skin caught my eye-the origin consisted of possibly a savage animal or a wild lover. My mind was disgusted at both thoughts. Oliver then took my hand and led me deeper into the wood, causing a wave of strange contentment over me. His hand over mine felt as if it would swallow it up although it also felt as if it belonged there.

        Oliver brought me to a small hut made from stone and straw. Smoke omitted from the chimney as the smell of fresh pastries aroused my nostrils. He led me inside to reveal a quaint cottage filled with paintings of far away places, documents of all ranges, knives and other weapons I was unable to name hiding but glimmering against the candlelight, and a clothes chest resting at the end of the bed. He explained to me how there was little food but there would be more by morning. To be frank, I found myself in a state of confusion. Why would a Lord live in a small cottage when he could reside in a castle far too big for a man of his romantic status.

        As night fell, I felt as if I was growing more comfortable around Oliver. I could feel his eyes fall upon me on more than one occasion as I moved about the cottage. My fingers wandered over the maps and documents as my eyes looked to the paintings. He explained to me how he sailed in every ocean at least once, seen every constellation recorded at least once, but never  had a place to call home. It made me sad to think this. A handsome, charming, sensual, intelligent man being alone with no permanent residence. It also made me nervous. My nerves were set aside as he lit more candles. The flames reflected on his face and complimented every alluring feature from his soulful eyes to his chiseled muscles.

        My comfort was quickly shaken when I realized my place. I was here on the King's favor not my own and to leave without knowledge of my location would risk my life and possibly even my kin's. I demanded he bring me back to the castle no matter what was awaiting me. As we rode to the castle on his horse, I noticed my tower. It was the tallest of them all and I was confused on how he was able to climb such height. I also noticed thorns outside of the balcony-confusing me twain as to how me remained uninjured. I brought his hands to me to see marks and scars and blood upon his hands-perfect indents of thorns.

        This enraged me. A man I hardly knew climbed a tower every day- cutting and injuring himself just to see me. This also made my heart jump. A man I hardly knew placed himself at pain's door every day so I was able to be in his company. For this, I kissed him on his cheek as I jumped from the horse. In his eyes, even in the dark lit just by torches, I could sense he was happy.

        I slid through the servant's quarters and attempted to sneak into my room only to be caught by Lillian. Her look casted disapproval and confusion to me. She explained how the King had all of his guards out looking for me and he grew angry and took his frustration out on a wall. This made my pulse race and not in the way Oliver made it. In a way that I genuinely feared for my well-being...a type of racing that caused everything in my body to shake even my soul.

        Lillian and I said our late morrows before I retired to my chambers. As I did every night, I slid underneath my covers and shut my eyes tight holding back tears. Only Oliver and his touch saved my dry eyes.