Vinzenza was a city holding its breath. Everyone knew dark titbits about the Order and its presumed warlocks, but the one tale everyone agreed to be true was that Lord Eduard, the young scion of House Conetti, the highest ducal house in the land, second only to the royal house, upon attaining his majority at age twenty-one, would be named Prince Consort by the Order and take his place beside the queen, a woman twenty years his senior.

No one could agree on what, exactly, the nature of the prince consort's relationship to the queen was to be. Some whispered, after several flagons of some foul beverage, that the prince consort was to be a true husband to the queen, not a ceremonial one. Such whispers were met with mixed horror, disgust, and titillation. Truly, the prospect of the great queen, a handsome woman twice the young Lord Eduard's age, debasing herself by lying with a husband so much younger - barely even a man, really - was a topic of silent unease throughout the city.

The key subject of these rumours paced her chambers that day, agitated and apprehensive. Occasionally, she would look sharply at one of her ladies and demand, "Will he hate me? He will. Oh, he'll hate me," before walking away, once more muttering about allowing the Order to keep the information from Lord Eduard until he came into his majority. If he had grown up knowing - for the Foretelling had shown at his birth that he met the criteria - understanding it was inevitable, he would be able to take the role on with more comfort. As the queen's prince consort and true husband, he was to accompany her in wielding the power of Vinzenza to break the curse that had lain upon the land for nearly 300 years.

It would be a shock. The idea of becoming a husband to a woman so much older, whom he knew well, would not be welcome. How could it be? Even in the relatively broad socially acceptable range of sexual practices, where men routinely took wives twenty years their juniors, women did not do the same. Such a practice was taboo in Vinzenza in those years. Even a symbolic marriage between a much-older woman and a young man would be abhorrent to the people, no matter how much it might be explained to them that only through this union could Vinzenza be saved. It was a dangerous thing the Order had demanded of her. More for her than for anyone. And yet...the tightness in the queen's stomach spread southward, a flutter of anticipation that made her squeeze her thighs together momentarily. She flushed with embarrassment. Had it been so long, that the prospect of bedding Lord Eduard made her body react so easily?

***

I stretched luxuriously and looked out the window. Not bad for some introductory exposition, I thought. In my career as an author of historical fiction, this book, featuring the story and adventures of Queen Jacqueline and Lord Eduard, was to be the first in a new historical fantasy series, and I found myself wrapping the freedom of the fantasy setting around me like a fur stole. Such freedom!

I looked back at the screen. I needed to do some research this afternoon on Renaissance Italy, which held the historical inspirations for my fantasy kingdom of Vinzenza. I needed to dig deeper, really get a sense of the culture, both inside and outside the nobility, so I could decide what to keep and what to change for my world. A glance at the clock had me out of my seat and headed for the kitchen. Speaking of young noblemen, the first of my Thanksgiving guests, my best friend, Sasha's, kid, was due in tonight. Sasha had called that morning to say she and the rest of the family would be arriving Thanksgiving Day because of a mix-up with the tickets. Gabe was at school just an hour away, and the food at mine being better than university food, he was still planning to arrive the day before. I knew he'd been homesick this semester, so I wanted to make sure his favourite dishes, linguine with clam sauce and a luscious chocolate torte with ganache icing, were ready to surprise him.

The sauce started, I headed to take a shower and change. Gabe had texted to say he would arrive soon, so there was just time to shower and get dressed before he got here. I adjusted the rainwater taps in the walk-in shower and eased my neck around in a slow circle under the water. The writing was going great, but I had to admit, the hours sitting at the desk, staring at that screen, were not great for my neck and back. I'd have to see if Gabe would massage my neck and shoulders for me after dinner. He'd learned to do that from a YouTube video in high school because his mom had really bad neck trouble. He quickly became famous for it through our whole circle of friends, all of us writers who spend long hours hunched over keyboards. Yeah, he was a good kid. And he knew it, too, the little brat. I gave a little chuckle.

A familiar voice came from the doorway. "I know the rain shower is great, but I didn't think it was a laugh-out-loud kind of thing," Gabe chuckled. I jumped and whirled toward the door, using my arm to clear a path to see through in the glass door. "Kiddo! You're early! I'll be right out!"

"Don't rush, Miriam, it's cool. I can keep you company while you finish," Gabe replied, strolling into the bathroom and taking a seat at the vanity. The opacity of the shower walls made it so only my outline from the waist up was even visible, and I wasn't particularly prude, so we were both comfortable with his staying.