My marriage to the King of England had been arranged of course. I didn't see my betrothed until our wedding night but all the images my bountiful imagination dutifully provided didn't come close to doing my King service. I honestly squirmed throughout the service of Holly Matrimony mortified lest someone noticed my unbecoming anxiety.
How ironic then that my husband would decide me to be a frigid unwelcoming vessel for his passion! But how can I possibly explain to him that the Queen is a lady and should never unveil her true emotions before her Lord and husband? Thank Goodness for the King s perspicacity in calling upon brother Manfred's knowledge of the soul and flesh in chastising out my vanity and forcing me to be the sensuous wife I know I am.
I am Eleanor, Queen of England. This is my most secret story.
