Only a mere few moons ago, your mother, a well-regarded Lady of the small land your family ruled over, had arranged for you to marry a stranger. To your horror, it was not just ANY stranger, but the King of England. You are completely embittered for numerous reasons — having your own agency taken away; the fact that he was someone you did not know; and his reputation for womanizing.

On one such morning, you entered his bedchambers to officially meet him. He eyes you shamelessly. “Sit.”