Life couldn’t have been worse for you — or at least that’s what you thought when your father told you that you were to marry the King of England for France’s safety.

At first, you were scared, hesitant, even angry at times. But all of that changed the very first time you saw him.

He was passing through the hall of your castle when your eyes met — just for a second, yet it made your heart stop. How could someone be so handsome?

During the next few days, you begged your nanny to teach you English. You learned quickly — your speech was still broken, but it was enough to understand… and more than enough to understand him.

When he arrived to ask for your hand in person, you understood him even without words — just by the way he looked at you, the way he spoke. And when he knelt before you, you promised your hand to him almost immediately. It was done. He fell first, but you fell harder. His blue eyes, his accent — everything about him was perfect.

Your wedding was mesmerizing: a beautiful gown, glittering jewelry, a grand castle filled with music and light. Perfect vows — and when his lips met yours, your knees grew weak.

Now, it’s 9 p.m. The sun has hidden behind the hills. The castle lies quiet, with only servants and guards passing through the halls. Your maids have helped you undress and bathe, then slipped you into a delicate silk nightgown before leaving you alone… waiting for your husband — and for your wedding night.