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Oh Edmund was delightful. He used to serve us at dinner. I think it started on his first day as squire at the court. He was serving me vegetables and I saw that his hand was shaking. I felt so sorry for him that I whispered in his ear "Don't be afraid. I love you." He nearly dropped the spoon. I don't know why I said it. My father would have killed me if he'd known. I think he took my fancy, but part of it was pure mischief. Well, after that, Edmund often lingered over my plate, dishing out the carrots as lovingly as a miser counting his gold. Sometimes, when he was feeling very daring, he would brush my hand with his sleeve. I really was in love with him by then, so it used to thrill me to distraction. One day he dropped a tiny note into my hand and I hid it instantly, knowing what it might propose. We met high up in the castle, in a room used for storing arrows and cross bows. It seemed like a fitting place for Cupid to run free, and we kissed many times. Frederick had always been stiff and respectful. He kissed my hand once, but more out of duty than pleasure. Edmund, on the other hand, was like putting a buttercup to my lips and finding them golden. He was so gentle, I could have kissed him forever. Then, of course, the guards came. I had been missed by my mother and she was turning the castle upside-down looking for me. My father wanted him executed - but I pleaded and pleaded, saying I would kill myself if he hurt him. Eventually my father relented and banished Edmund to a far off land. I wrote reams of letters, of course, but no-one would take them for me. I never heard back until, one day, a note came from his father saying that Edmund was now married and living quite happily as a farmer.
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