“And who do we have here?" he asks in a high-pitched voice that I’m sure he thinks comes across as charming.

“Juliet,” I respond, trying not to cringe as he brushes his lips across my hand.

"What is your relationship with the King, beautiful Juliet?" he asks, continuing his flirtation with a flirtatious grin.

I try to look coy even though I’m sure that I fail miserably. "I'm not sure what you mean," I respond with a wink. My answer seems to excite him. I have to make sure to keep my face clear of the revulsion I’m feeling. I had forgotten how bad dental hygiene was during this time period. The invention of toothbrushes should have been done much earlier.

I spend the next few hours using all the charm I have in my possession, which granted I didn't feel was very much. Refilling his wine glass constantly is also one of my top priorities.

But it actually isn’t hard work. He prattles on for most of the time, very interested in talking about himself. He also likes to talk on and on about how wonderful Spain is and how much better it is than England. He makes sure that his voice is just loud enough for James to hear.

James for his part, politely ignores his statements. This makes me even more suspicious about what’s going on. At one-point James exchanges a look with Richard who is sitting a few seats away from us. Richard excuses himself and leaves the room. James shoots me a warning look that I need to continue paying attention to the Spanish Ambassador. I immediately begin to flutter my eyelashes prettily at him, which makes him seem to lose focus for a second on what he was talking about.

Richard is gone for half an hour. When he finally returns, dessert is beginning to be served. I see Richard give James a small nod.

And now I was even more intrigued.

I see Francesca watching James intensely, looking back and forth between him and Richard suspiciously. She obviously has no idea what’s going on either. I feel a certain sense of satisfaction that she has been kept out of the loop as well even though I knew practically nothing too. It was petty of me, but again I had already started acknowledging I wasn’t exactly a saint. I’d never claimed to be such a thing.

When dessert was done, James stands up, and the whole room quiets. Smiling regally, he holds out his arm for me to take. Apparently, my job was done for the night. I give my regard to the ambassador, who looks quite forlorn at the fact that I am leaving. Evidently, he had been under the impression that James had lent me to him for the evening.

A revolting thought.

We walk out of the banquet hall. James keeps silent until the doors close behind us and we can hear the room’s occupants start to talk again, most likely about me again. We begin to walk with some urgency in the direction of his quarters.

Just then the door slams open from the room we had just left. It’s Francesca. Dressed in all of her Queenly finery, she looks stunning. But It was the beauty of a cobra just before it struck and gave you a fatal bite.

"James,” she calls after us sharply, a look of hatred crossing her face as she glances at me. “How dare you embarrass me like that by bringing that...that slut to an official dinner,” she spits out, raising her hand to slap him across the face.

James looks calm in the face of her rage, catching her wrist before she can strike him.

"Why dear wife, wasn't it your idea for me to bring her tonight?" he says with a small, satisfied smile.

“I have been understanding of your dalliances from the very beginning," she says. "But at no time have you ever brought them with you to a State function. What will my Father say when his Ambassador brings news of what happened tonight back to Spain? It could jeopardize the treaty. I’m sure the people would be happy to know that their Ruler is more interested in keeping his dick happy than keeping food on their tables and war away from their borders.”

James looks confused. "I’m not sure what the issue is. It appears that he was as taken with my Juliet’s charm as I am," he says, that same amused smile on his face.

Her face gets even redder. She begins to open her mouth again, a loud screeching indicating that we wouldn't be happy with whatever came out of her mouth.

"I suggest you go back in there and finish entertaining the Ambassador as is your duty," he says, the suggestion coming out as more of an order. “Although I would suggest keeping away from his bed. Your lackluster bedroom skills would probably do more harm to the relationship between Spain and England than anything else would.”

"I would sleep with one eye open," she spits out, shooting me a look of such revulsion and disdain that my goosebumps pebble across my skin. She’s a lunatic.

James turns us back around and begins to walk us away from a still seething Francesca, signaling the end of the conversation. I don’t relax until I hear the banquet hall doors close behind her.

We walk the rest of the way back to his chambers in silence.

Soft candles have been lit around his room and I take a moment to bask in the romantically lit room, savoring the lovely smell of James that is always present in the room even when he’s not here.

I turn to ask James to start explaining what happened tonight, and I’m stopped in my tracks before I can say anything.

There are many defining moments in life; I’ve had my fair share, James featuring in many of them. When his eyes met mine for the first time in that apple orchard was one of them, another when I knew I loved him, another when I lost him. The truth is, love is a puzzle piece. It either fits or it doesn’t, and we did. He became my life so easily, and with a resounding pop every other possibility vanished from existence. All of my tomorrows used to be in his hands.

That’s no longer the case, its split up in five sets of hands now. But still the thought of losing him again . . . it’s unthinkable.

I know though, standing in that room that’s flickering with candlelight, while he looks at me as if I’m the sun, the moon, and the stars all in one...I’ll remember this moment forever.

“I love you,” I whisper so softly that at first, I don’t think he can hear me. I say it now, knowing that I meant it the first time I said it to him, but what I feel now with all the experiences that I’ve had… it’s made it mean more.