The Favourite ★★★★½

Dearest Samuel,

I am hardly surprised that a man of your particular talents has won an audience with Queen Anne. Her Majesty is sure to grant you a warm reception. I hope you'll forgive my presumptuousness, but as a friend older in years who has nurtured a sense of duty toward you, I am obliged to offer a word of advice. Like anyone of noble blood, Her Grace is not without her peculiarities and I should hate for you to, out of ignorance or inexperience, unwittingly provoke one of her famous tantrums.

Please do not mistake me! The queen's changeable mood by no means points to a weakness of character. You must have heard of her crippling ailments, including a case of gout that confines her to bed for days at a time. Despite the efforts of a cavalry of England’s finest physicians, her pain continues unabated and without relief. How terribly she suffers! Without hope of an effective cure, Her Majesty's only recourse is the pursuit of frivolous diversions that might briefly allow her to forget her symptoms. Perhaps you've heard of her celebrated collection of rabbits and have questioned if such an eccentricity could possible be true. I assure you it is! Her Grace's goodness is never more apparent than when she is fawning over these cherished companions. They aren't the most agile of creatures and you will do well to watch your footing, lest you accidentally trample one.

In matters of state, you will find Her Grace's head easily turned. She defers most regularly to her confidante Lady Churchill, a striking character (and conspicuously clever for a woman) whose position at court is second only to the queen herself. I implore you to seek out Lady Churchill's favour, for no good came of anyone foolish enough to set themselves against her. Those envious of her influence spread wild gossip of an improper relationship with Her Majesty, but to indulge such a notion is no less a sin than treason. Imagine accusing one's own sovereign of lechery! How quickly they forget Her Grace has been anointed by God.

As with any court there are, of course, those whose shady dealings are not beholden to our great queen and which occasionally slip past her ever-seeing eye. If it becomes necessary to form allegiances and establish loyalties, I ask that you do so wisely after private reflection. Remember that God favours those who embed His word upon their heart. If you should feel attacked or conspired against, ask Him for the wisdom to answer cruelty with kindness in the knowledge that to do so is to bath in His guiding light.

I should like to end this correspondence with a final word of advice. If you should happen upon a maid by the name of Abigail Hill, whom I believe is stationed in the scullery, be sure to visit her humble quarters one evening for delicious mouthfuls of her exquisite cunt, which spasms so pleasingly against one's tongue and which expels its flowing nectar with indiscriminate fervor.

Obligingly Yours,

Lord SoAndSo

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