“I find our husbands very alike,” Queen Anna said, having herself drunk enough to untie the tongue. “Both suffered greatly in early childhood, both lost their fathers, both have mothers who were unable to care for them. It makes them hard to love but you must persist; there is no joy greater than is to be found in children, and only your husband can give them to you.” Frankie smiled and curtsied deeply, if a little unsteadily, and the Queen waved her away.

Studying her reflection gravely, the Queen assessed my tactics. I endeavored to read her face as I replaced the woman with the warrior, setting out to meet her husband, monarch to monarch. I exposed her chest to the nipple, leaving an expanse of white skin above, smooth as metal, interrupted only by the ruff that haloed her noble head.

I expected her to lose courage, to demand I reverse my work. She would not be a rare wife who did that; for all those who sought my aid, there were a hundred afraid of it. I finished by pinning her great, jeweled letters to the golden ruff. When I stood back to admire her, I could not read her expression. As we emerged from behind the screens the room fell still, despite the drunkenness of most of its occupants.

There was a long pause during which the ladies, all tricked up and slightly askew, took in the new Queen before them. Her Majesty looked so serious. After what felt like an hour, but was probably moments, she laughed. Oh, lovely sound!

Her ladies clapped, long and hard. The Queen walked over and kissed me on both cheeks. She called her musicians to play and instructed her grooms to fetch any gentlemen still waiting outside. About twenty trooped in, among them Robert Carr and my own Arthur. I chuckled like a rook as he stared at me, quite unable to fathom how I could be in the monarch’s presence. He looked around the room and then took my hand and kissed it with such fervor I was afeared the Queen would notice. She put up with a great deal without taking a lover and I did not want to earn her disapproval having just won her trust.

“If we could always be thus,” he said, enjoying the novelty of our being together in his world rather than mine. How proud I was of his love. He was a handsome man, a coming man, and many sought to betroth their daughters to him; but he was faithful to me.

Robert Carr strolled past and I could not resist calling out to him.