The Diary of A King's Mistress

28th January, 1668

        I had a recollection come to me in the form of a dream night of last. The night I met Miguel. He was only a month or two my elder but my father found him to be a great matrimonial prospect. His father was also a doctor, but one of legal account. Miguel was killed the night our village was attacked. Fire blazed on the roofs of the village residences as smoke blinded even the stars. Miguel was gallant and stalwart but contumacious. He got caught in a scuffle with the men who attacked the village and was impaled through the heart. Father performed his autopsy but I was unable to see him. I saw sketches and heard what they said about the condition of his body and my imagination caused me to drown in horrific visions. This morning, it caused me to wake in a sweat. My bedding was completely sodden from this dream. There was something that caused me to shake. Oliver had been present. He too was killed so violently that it made my stomach sick as I awoke. 

        My mind was suffocated with ideas to make Oliver stay. I was to marry the King, but truly loved Oliver. There, I said it. I love him. I love how he sacrifices skin on his hands to just be with me. I love his eyes and large body and how he caresses me so tight but enough so it is perfectly comfortable. I love his kiss and how he sucks my lip to make it soft yet rough. I love him truly and completely and need him with me always.

        I made my way through my chambers and eventually to the King's chambers. He was surprised to hear my presence and welcomed me with a forceful kiss that I endured once again. I explained to him that I would marry him in one condition; we would not consummate our marriage. His expression was of shock and anger. He wrapped his tight grasp around my throat and I used my sharp nails to have him release me. An utterance was said in which he favored forceful women during intimate activities. I could not hide my disgust and he noticed. A hateful and lustful look was placed in my direction but he agreed to keep me chaste until at least our wedding night. We set a date for three days from now. The final day of January of the year sixteen-hundred and sixty-eight.

        When the stars grew dim and the moon was bright, Oliver made his way to my chambers. As I extinguished the torch, he made his way from me. Only greeting me with a glance. I explained to him the events of this day and he stood up quick and began muttering foul language as well as horrid comments underneath his breath. I placed my hand along his cheek and he closed his eyes soft and smirked yet pulled from me. There was a distance he placed between us that made my heart ache. I made my way to him and forced his lips unto mine and bussed him. His fingers lingered upon my strings as I pulled myself against his thorax, I could feel him breathe in deep and harsh. I had felt him tense against me and had him sit upon the bed and covered his eyes with a thick ribbon that is used to tie the curtains for the balcony window. As I tied it behind his head, I arched my head around to his lips and kissed him.

        His grip tightened upon my legs as I placed one of my knees upon the bed and the other standing firmly upon the ground. He refused to raise his hand past my knee so I chose to influence him. Within seconds, I removed my dress and was left in just my corset. I moved his hand to the strings and he jumped up and removed the ribbon from his eyes. He told me how I deserved a ceremony before intimacy reached its full capacity. I had many feelings at this moment. Many of them were of embarrassment and humiliation, but some were of anger and confusion.

        I hid myself from him and ordered him to leave. But as I covered my body, I looked to him and saw sadness. Complete and unmistakable sadness.