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said, “is passing out at my bachelorette party the night before my wedding. What day is this? Where am I, and how did I get here? I have got to hop to it; I have elaborate wedding plans to execute—if it isn’t too late already!”
    The king’s mother and the queen were both banging away on the bedpost now, knocking as if for dear life. “What did I say?” I asked.
    “‘Execute’ is not a word we bandy about lightly here,” explained Elizabeth.
    “I am so sorry,” I said. “I shall be more careful about that going forward.” I decided at that point to play along with the Tudor Fantasia theme that was going on around me, even if I was not quite sure how I had gotten in the middle of it or what it all meant. I thought that it must be some kind of Renaissance Faire cabaret, organized by my bridesmaids in honor of my Tudor leanings. I acknowledged to myself that it might even be amusing some other time—like when I did not have a wedding dress waiting for me to be buttoned into it, bridesmaids to be chivied, a groom waiting for me at the altar, guests to be mingled with, and a plane to London to catch, all in short order.
    “I promise to make my best effort not to say the ‘E’ word again, if you will oblige to tell me exactly what is going on. Did my bridesmaids arrange one of those ‘night in a medieval castle’ packages for me as part of the bachelorette festivities? Is that it? I must say, they did a bang-up job! This is the most authentic reenactment I have ever seen, and that is a compliment coming from me. Did I mention that I am a history professor?”
    “Your friends do not know you are here. No one knows you are here. You need not worry though—you are quite safe. You will return from whence you came in plenty of time for your nuptials, if you should decide to exe—sorry, to proceed with —them after we have all had a chance to speak with you,” Margaret replied authoritatively.
    “ If ’ ? All? How many performers are there here, and what are they going to try to pull over on me? Can we get on with this so that I can get out of here before too much more time goes by?”
    “Do not get ahead of yourself, Dolly. You must allow me to explain things to you.” As the old woman spoke, she reminded me more and more of Harry’s grandma. This made me disposed to like her, in spite of the circumstances. “My daughter-in-law and I are, so to speak, the gatekeepers here. Think of us as the ones who lowered the drawbridge for you upon your arrival.”
    “I’m most beholden to you, I am sure,” I said. “But crossing your moat doesn’t exactly float my boat. And spending the entire night here is definitely not on my table d’hÙte.”
    “You must have a little patience, Dolly. The fact of the matter is that you are here for the night; there is no escaping it. You may consider the drawbridge raised for the next several hours.”
    Not being much of a diver or a swimmer, I did not see escape in my immediate future, so I listened intently as Margaret continued. “It is imperative that you understand what my daughter-in-law and I have to tell you before you move on to everything else that awaits you here tonight.”
    “Well, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation about Henry VII, the death of his son Prince Arthur, the death in childbirth of his wife, Elizabeth of York, the ascension of his second son, Henry VIII, to the throne, and the fates of Henry VIII’s wives. That is seductively familiar territory to me because of my research work—also because of the uncanny coincidental turn my personal life has taken toward my work. If nothing else, the names would have caught my attention. My fiancé’s name is Henry, although everyone calls him Harry. My future mother-in-law’s name is Elizabeth. She had a son, Arthur, who died young. And my fiancé, like your own grandson, has been married six times before.”
    The elderly Margaret, worn out by the vicissitudes of the evening, deferred to