When my uncle called me to court I was only too eager to come. There was the promise of new dresses and jewels and even more wonders in store if I agreed to come. Of course, I was sad to leave behind my lover, I’d grown so accustomed to his caresses, but the promise of new dresses and jewels was just too tempting to resist.
At fifteen, I am positively ancient. It’s a pity I’m still single because I’m so beautiful. When I found out yesterday my friend was to be married, I turned green with envy! But I’d still rather be me than her. I’d rather be at the king’s court serving Queen Anne, even if she is plain and wears frumpish gowns and speaks only German.
They tell me the king already wants out of his marriage. Maybe he’ll knock off another head, I suggest, and the court laughs at my witticism. I am very popular at court, even more popular than my cousin Anne was. We don’t mention her in my family, of course, not since her execution. But I still remember how very high she rose and how very, very low she fell.
I know I can rise even higher than she did. Uncle says all I have to do is seduce the king. It won’t be easy pretending to be infatuated with a fat smelly old man, but all I have to do is think of the new dresses and jewels I am sure to receive and I know I can do it. All I have to do is think of my lover’s attention on me, his hands on my thighs and his mouth on my mine, and I can put up with the fact that the king is old enough to be my grandfather and that his kisses are really very sloppy and messy.
Truly, it’s horrifying when you think about what a lecher he is. But since he’s the king everyone bows to him, no matter how terrible he behaves.
Uncle told me he’s pleased with my comportment and that the king is certain to propose to me. But how can a married man take another wife, I protested. Surely even the king can’t commit bigamy. My uncle just called me a silly lamb.
I think it should be very nice to be queen. I’d be able to buy new dresses and jewels every day. I think I would make a good queen.