Eleanor has heard rumors, gossip among the servants, about some sort of golden statue that people are awarded for acting in something called “movies.” Eleanor is indeed perplexed. She knows there are traveling pageants with actors, and sometimes her jugglers and troubadours at the castle play out little scenes for the assembled guests, but what would a “movie” consist of? She, of course, would never think of acting. Heavens forfend! That is a role taken only by the lowest of the low, and most certainly not by countesses, such as she. The only acting she must do is in real life, when she has to act as if dreams of Lord Hugh do not haunt her every night…and as if these dreams are not now assailing her even in broad daylight…. What would he think if he were to discover the secret feelings she’s harboring about him? She shivers at the thought. Nay, she must act her heart out!