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Queen Elizabeth, Queen E-liz-a-beth?
“Forgive me, Prime Minister. I was lost in thought. Remind me where we left off.”
I truly was lost in thought. May of 1429 had turned out to be unusually warm, and the azure sea beyond the reception room windows dazzled the eyes. Eight years had passed since I, Elizabeth von Schilfod of Eubach, had become the wife of the crown prince, and then the first queen of the kingdom of Eubach. Eight years in which I had become a woman like few others.
I was thirty-eight. A dangerous and beautiful age, when girlish lightness gives way to mature, heavy luxury, but the fire inside does not fade—it only grows hotter and steadier. My silver-ash hair, arranged in an exquisite high coiffure, revealed a sculpted neck, and deep within my green eyes, like emeralds in a setting, rippled wisdom and sly knowledge. A single mole above my sensuous lips gave my appearance a special piquancy.
I was still damn good-looking. My breasts, once proud and firm, had now grown heavy with the weight of years. They had already begun to yield a little to gravity, but that languid, natural fullness lured far more strongly than girlish innocence. Heavy and very attractive, they swayed with every breath, demanding to be touched. And my wide, truly feminine hips flowed smoothly into a waist, promising a reliable rear and passionate embraces. In my scarlet gown with a deep neckline, adorned with emeralds, I was the embodiment of mature, dangerous, and incredibly alluring beauty.
Our meeting was taking place on the second floor of Kronvil Castle, in a small reception room where I, the first queen, held my working audiences. One could say it was my office. It was located directly behind the throne room, where my young husband—the current king of the small kingdom of Eubach—sat.
It was an exquisite room: the walls were painted with a delicate floral pattern, and opposite the entrance door were four large separate windows with beautifully embroidered tapestries and azure tulle that reached the floor. In the central part of the window behind my back was a door to the balcony, from which opened a view of the entire city and the endless azure sea. As a young bride to the king, I had seen this landscape and fallen in love with it forever.
In the center of the room were two sofas facing each other, and between them a small coffee table. On it stood four teacups, and as a snack, colorful macarons prepared by our castle chef were offered.