Lynn. Right there in his living room, there she was, as if someone had put her there. But how? How could this be? How could Lynn be in his living room?

Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertfordshire, was confused. More than just moderately confused, but so much as to be lost for words. He stared at her – he couldn't believe his eyes. His first (and frankly only) love, from the little village he grew up in, when he was but a mere boy, a lanky teenager, they had shared their first kiss. And now she, she was in his living room!

"Sweetheart, I employed a new servant girl, as you can see", a cold voice dripped from the off and brought Edward back to Windsor. His wife Anne did not ask for things but told him about them. "Come forward, girl", Anne demanded and Edward found himself right in front of Lynn. She bowed demurely and looked at him obediently – yet no sign of recognition in her eyes. He stared at her more fiercely. Why did she not recognise him?

Then he remembered. Lynn was dead.

Yet, if Lynn was dead, why was she also in his living room?

"This is Bess", his wife continued, irritated by his incessant staring at the servant girl in front of him.

"Dear, it is not proper to stare at the servants. Stare at something else I you must do so", she lowly scolded him. Her husband might be of rank but he was not at all the husband she had wished for. Sometimes she couldn't believe how incredibly graceless he behaved. Anne sighed to herself. Divorce not yet being an option, this was her fate and she had to live with the consequences of her decisions. As did he.

Bess. But there surely had been a mix-up. Edward grunted his approval of her employment and left the room immediately after. Bess followed him with her eyes, his robes rustling and flinched as he slammed the door shut. How could she have already offended her new employer? She hadn't even said a word yet! Bess knew that one negative word about her from her employer could land her in the poorhouse, because who'd want to hire a servant who performed poorly when there were so many vying for that position? She had to up her game and better this instant.

He awoke sweaty from a night of nervous sleep and vivid dreams. The whole evening yesterday, Lynn had not left his thoughts. He remembered her dark eyes and strawberry blonde hair, her dimples and her chipped tooth, the hiccup sound she had made when she laughed and the smack of her lips when they had kissed. He also remembered himself and who he used to be, back in those days.

He had always been ambitious but he also had been kind-hearted and warm. He had laughed a lot with Lynn, intended to grow old with her and die a happy man.

Yet his ever growing ambition had changed all of those early dreams. He spent more and more time at court, accompanying his father, making acquaintances, making himself known. Life at court intoxicated him, it was like a drug. Lives were made or ruined at the snap of a finger or a meaningful look. Power and wealth were so close to him, so close that he just had to reach for it, had to do everything in his power to grasp it and make it stay. His ambition and good looks has led him to Anne, the cold but beautiful and very well-connected Anne, and to the position where he was now. He was the Earl of Hertfordshire, he was rich, he was a confidante to the King. It couldn't have gone any better. He forgot about Lynn and about his early dreams of a simple life. A simple life wouldn't have gotten him a Earl's title. Years later he learned that Lynn had been strategically married to the Duke of Wessex and so that was that. They never saw each other again for she died very early in her marriage during the birth of her first child. The child died as well and the Duke of Wessex did not waste any time to find a new wife. At the time, he couldn't understand what Lynn's death meant to him but now he could. The memory of her had caught him off guard, a state which was quite unusual to Edward Seymour, for he loved being in control, having the upper hand at all times.

But through her, that new servant girl standing there in his living room, looking at him with Lynn's face he remembered it all again. He felt the warmth her smile had evoked in his heart and the quiet easiness that had settled in his lungs and stomach and legs and arms. The arrival of stillness in his existence, only him and her and nothing else.

The next evening, he was sitting at his desk, waiting for his supper to be served. A small knock on the door announced the meal-bearing servant and in she came. At first he didn't know how to react. This was all too weird for him. A servant girl looking like his dead first love? Come on.

"Where is Margaret who usually brings my meals?", he bellowed at her. Visibly shaken by his rude and sudden address, Bess put the tray down, bowed deeply and tried to explain: "Margaret has fallen ill, your Lordship, and since all the others were busy they sent me to deliver your Lordship's supper." He still seemed to resent her for things unknown to her and it made Bess rather nervous. She needed to work to support herself and finding decent employment was tough.

"I see." Edward was not impressed and with an impatient wave of his hand, he ordered her away. As the door closed behind her, he leaned forward to examine his food. It looked all quite nice and tasty but...what was that? A bowl of fresh fruit? He certainly didn't ask for that! Annoyed but too hungry to call the servant girl back in, he started his meal and before he knew it, he had finished everything on the tray, including the bowl of fruit. A clementine and a peach. He did like both fruit so it wasn't all bad, but still. He didn't ask for it and he certainly didn't like servants who made their own decisions – and in this case even making decisions for him! This was not to be borne.

When Bess came in later to collect the tray he looked scornfully at her: "There was a bowl of fresh fruit on the tray which I didn't ask for."

"Was your Lordship displeased with the fruit?" Edward was taken aback by her cheek. No apology, but a question! What?! Where did his wife get this servant from? Confused and angry by this unexpected reply, he said: "No, the fruit was fine, but I didn't order you to put it on my tray." He fixated her with a cold stare: "It is pretty straightforward – you are a servant and you don't get any ideas. Understood?" This was making him uncomfortable, this whole situation. He needed his sleep, Lynn was long dead, his life was already lived, her life spent. He didn't want this reminder, this sting from the past, these questions asking what could have been. But was he such a weak man? Overpowered by some long gone memories? Was he to be beaten by some old sentimentality? Edward breathed in decidedly and vigorously. He was the Earl of Hertfordshire who had earned his title by wit and charm. If he could bear the King and his mercurial temper, he could easily overcome this.

Bess wanted the ground to swallow her whole. There goes effort, there goes initiative, there goes having a nice idea. Blushing tomato red, she bowed obediently without looking at him, apologised and left the room quickly and quietly. This week really got worse from day to day.