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Chapter Text

"Chain her up like the animal that she is."

That usurping bastard would get what was coming to him, standing against her, the Queen of France should have led to his head rolling but no. Henry's lust for England has destroyed her family, took away her children's birthright; and Francis. Her golden boy would have made the perfect King. Now Diane's son will be the King of France and Mary will be his Queen. The little girl has been nothing but a thorn in her side, poison was too merciful for her, Catherine should have slit her throat in that bath.

The Queen of France was silently scheming and raging when the guard opened the door to her prison. Mary Stuart entered the room, nothing about her betrayed that she had almost drowned in her bath merely hours ago.

"Have you come to gloat at my demise? I hear Henry plans on making my execution a spectacle."

"On the contrary, I've come to save your life."

"Now why would I find that difficult to believe? Oh yes, you caused all of this madness in the first place!"

Catherine's rage was clear to see and for a moment Mary considered alerting the guards posted outside, but quickly thought better of it. Their conversation must be kept private.

"All I wanted was to keep your son safe! The man I love, from a Prophecy that might not even come true."

"And look what you have done instead. Changing the line of succession, putting a bastard on the throne and leaving my children with nothing."

Mary gave a sigh of frustration before sitting on the only chair in the room, her aching form protesting at the stress of the day. She raised her head to meet the elder Queen's eyes and spoke in a clear voice.

"A rider has taken my message to Paris. It contains the details of your situation and a summons to court."

Paris, the city in which her firstborn was wasting away after losing his inheritance. Her poor boy must be so lost without his mother.

"Why would you want Francis to return to court and have me released?"

"Because it is becoming clearer to me every day that Bash will not be legitimized. Rome cannot refute my cousin's claim to England on grounds of illegitimacy and have a former bastard be King of France."

Catherine's twitching brows were the only indication of her surprise. The Scottish Queen was repeating her own sentiments to her; Francis taking his place as the Dauphin once more would end her alliance with France and send her packing to Scotland. Why would she willingly give up power in France? It was certainly not to save Catherine, not after she poisoned her.

"And what exactly do you gain from Francis becoming the future king again? Your mother would never agree to losing the French alliance."

"I am not changing the marriage alliance at all Catherine. I am changing my choice of husband, I am finished playing these games. You and Henry promised I would marry Francis and I will. This time no prophesy will stop me."

Mary barely had the chance to brace herself when Catherine's fingers gripped her throat, pressing down to stop her breathing.

"You wretched little whore! Your selfishness will kill my son, you know that he will die in the first year of your marriage and yet still you will condemn him?"

"Nostradamus was wrong! Francis's fate has changed!"

Mary's cries fell on deaf ears as Catherine tightened her grip, causing black spots to appear in the young Queen's vision.

"I should finish you off now before you ruin any more lives."

"If you kill me now, Francis will never forgive you."

Mary wheezed in between choking breaths. Her threat earned her a dismissive scoff from the Queen of France and she leaned in to whisper in her face.

"He'll get over you soon enough, I am his mother. You are nothing but a pretty thing, easily replaced."

"And what about his son?"

As soon as those words left her lips, the pressure around her neck disappeared and the Queen of Scots sagged in her chair.

"What son?"

"I am carrying your grandson Catherine, the child that you have attempted to kill twice tonight."

She spat in between heaving breaths, trying to appear brave after such an assault was difficult but she managed.

"That is not possible, Nostradamus said Francis would die without an heir."

"His visions have changed. He saw them after he confirmed my pregnancy."

Catherine paced back and forth, clutching her bodice in deep thought. She didn't want to believe the girl, she could be lying to save herself and grab power. However, Mary did love her son, much to her constant chagrin. Mary wouldn't risk Francis for anything, and should she be mistaken, Catherine would have her taken care of.

"Who else knows of this?"

"No one but us and my ladies, they dress me and would have noticed soon enough."

"You said Nostradamus had new visions, what did he see?"

"He saw James as King of France, Francis will die as all men do, but it won't be for years. Please Catherine, the more we delay the wedding the farther along I will be, if my son is to sit the throne there must be no question about his legitimacy."

The Queen of France snapped up at that, her expression holding nothing but determination.

"You leave that to me, my dear. As soon as Francis returns to court, you shall be wed."

Chapter Text

"Will you marry me?"

The day had slipped from her so quickly that she hadn't told Bash the truth. With the Princes' kidnapping and Clarissa's death, there hasn't been any time. Now it had come to this, Sebastian on his knees proposing marriage. He truly loved her and Mary felt horrible taking advantage of his feelings. He has put himself in so much danger for her and Francis.

It would break his heart to know what she and Catherine were planning. It was a betrayal to ally herself with Catherine and yet she had no other choice. No one could protect her child more than Catherine de Medici. For all her faults, the Queen of France loved her children fiercely.

"I'm so sorry Bash but I can't marry you."

Confusion marred his smile and he stood up to reach for her hand. She led him to the settee so they could sit. This was one of the most difficult conversations she would have.

"Why Mary? I thought we were in agreement, I know I was having reservations but I will overcome any obstacle to be with you. I will try harder at court, prepare myself for being your King."

Tears flowed freely from her eyes and she had to force back the sob building in her throat. Bash was such a good man, why did she have to involve him in her problems?

"It's not anything that you have done or can do. The Pope will never agree to this union and I must marry the next King of France for my country. Which means I must marry.."

"Francis, you must marry Francis."

"Yes."

Mary whispered with her head down, her gaze locked on the hands covering her own. The nauseating symptoms of her condition were getting difficult to hide everyday. This moment was complicated enough without the urge to empty her stomach into the nearest chamberpot.

"What's changed Mary? Just days ago you were determined that we could wed, you kissed me in the forrest. I know you care for me as I care for you."

"Circumstances have changed Bash. I have learnt something that makes it impossible for us to marry."

"So you'd marry my brother? Lead him to death? That was the reason you pushed Henry to legitimise me in the first place."

Bash had started to pace in frustration by then, trying to make sense of Mary's refusal.

"The prophecy keeping us apart was wrong. Nostradamus had another vision."

And there it was, the reason why Mary changed her mind. Bash had been so swept up by the romance of it all that he never fathomed the chance of this to happen. He never thought about the prophecy being changed, or he became so confident that he forgot Mary's love for his little brother.

"So that's it then. You learn that nothing is keeping you from marrying my brother and you leap at the chance."

Mary closed her eyes to avoid seeing the anguish in Bash's eyes. She knew that he would be hurt by her rejection but she hadn't expected his pain to sting so much.

"Just tell me one thing, was it ever real for you? Or was I just a replacement for the man you truly love?"

At the soft question, Mary lept from her seat to reply.

"Bash no! I love you, I do. You have done so much for me, ever since I arrived."

She tried to reach for him but Bash pulled back.

"But you love him more. When it came to a choice, you chose him."

Mary's silence was answer enough for Bash and he smiled sadly at her.

"I would have loved you unconditionally, I do. I would have put you first, always. But Francis, he would never put any love above his country. He would never love you the way I do, without limits."

His eyes burned with unshed tears as he turned to leave the chambers but stopped when she began speaking.

"It's not just about love. I am pregnant with his child. If I don't marry him I'll be ruined."

If Sebastian thought that simply her rejection hurt then this news was agonising. The thought that even when he was gone, all those weeks that Bash was courting Mary, she carried a part of Francis with her. That even when she agreed to be with Bash, his brother had already claimed her as his. He wasn't sure if Mary told him to ease his pain or to cause it but one thing was certain, Bash had lost her.

"Please Bash, you have to promise not to tell anyone."

Mary cried out, her desperation clear to him. He stepped closer to her and gave her a strained smile, leaning closer to kiss her forehead tenderly.

"Be happy Mary."

Those were his parting words before he turned his back and left.

Chapter Text

After weeks apart, waiting these last few days seemed torturous for Mary. With Bash spending more and more time hunting in the woods, rumors were starting to spread questioning the strength of their union. The preparations for the Royal Wedding at Notre Dame de Paris were near to completion, the court couldn't comprehend why their next King would be so disenchanted with his future wife days before their wedding. What the King and his court did not know was that the Queen of Scotland would not be wedding the King's bastard but his legitimate son, Prince Francis. Mary was thankful for Bash's disappearances, she couldn't face him after she broke his heart. Seeing all the wedding preparations knowing who the groom was must feel terrible and Mary did not wish to witness it.

While Catherine and Mary were busy planning her wedding, Henry had been busy making arrangements for Catherine's execution. With the King adamant at making a spectacle, Queen Catherine had taken the opportunity to add the most luxurious details to the event. The Queen was surely enjoying toying with her husband, knowing that she wasn't dying anytime soon. Which brought Mary back to Francis's impending return to court, he should have gotten her letter and be on his way. She used Catherine's official seal and Greer had a talent with forged handwritings, what could possibly be taking so long?

"Mary, where is your mind these days? We have to start packing for your wedding tour now or it will never get done." 

Greer's impatience was succinct in her voice as she snapped the Queen out of her thoughts. 

"Try to understand Greer, she's longing for her prince." 

Kenna teased as she made her way over, the throne room was holding a mock feast for Catherine's execution and they were all there.

"Ah Mary, I have seated you at a position of the highest honor. As the next Queen of France, soon this court will be yours."

It took everything in her not to burst out in giggles at the bewilderment of King Henry, as far as the court knew Catherine hated her. Ever since Catherine learned of her pregnancy she has been nothing short of doting. She would hover around Mary in the hallways, have the servants send her various foods and tonics made to strengthen her child and she even gave her the ring meant for the mother of the Dauphin. 

All activity came to an abrupt halt as the signal sounded for a royal visitor, every occupant aligned in the throne room to greet the newcomer. Moments later, the sounds of heels clicking against stone were heard before their guest entered the room. Marie de Guise, Regent of Scotland marched into French Court with regality and smiled at Mary.

"French Court has gone to hell. But not to worry dear, I'm here now."

"Mother."

Catherine was waiting for Mary in the girl's chambers, arguing with Marie de Guise made it clear to her that her daughter had not shared the intricacies of their plan. She wanted answers from her future daughter. After a while Mary entered the rooms accompanied by Lady Kenna, who took one look at her and fled like a mouse.

"Why does your mother think that you are marrying Sebastian?"

"I haven't seen my mother in so long, I needed to see if she would support my decisions as Queen. She held me in her arms and promised to stand by me. She lied to my face Catherine."

"She would do anything to get you and Francis to the altar."

"Let us hope that her attempts do not complicate our plans. I do not understand what is taking Francis so long."

Mary was getting worried now, could it be possible that Francis never got her letter? Or did he recognize it as forgery and disregard the contents? Catherine noticed the turmoil of the young Queen and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Do not trouble yourself, child. My son will return at any moment, you mustn't let worry endanger your little prince."  

A smile appeared on her lips at the mention of her little miracle, it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist the urge to caress her abdomen in front of others but she had to in order to protect her secret. Oh if only Francis would hurry, she could not wait to share her news.

"Is that Lola? And Francis." 

Greer's words turned her attention to them, she could barely recall the greeting she gave her lady or even her explanation as to why they arrived together, the nerves had overtaken Mary making her more queasy than usual. Ever since she had suspected that she was with child, she had been dreaming of this moment. Of realizing that her sacrifice was for nothing, that there was nothing standing in their way. But now, with Francis merely a few steps away fear gripped her. What if she succeeded in pushing him away and he no longer loved her? Had she truly ruined everything between them as he'd warned her? Would he even care about their son or would he let her be ruined? No, Francis was a kind man and he would marry her for their child, even if their love was lost.

Soon her ladies had left them to talk.

"You received the message? About Catherine?"

"Yes. I have returned to plead with Father for my Mother's life, I leave after that and we will never have to see each other again."

The chill in his voice and the tightening in his eyes brought forth moisture in Mary's eyes, she tried to blink them away but not before he saw.

"I don't mean to sound cruel or angry, I just don't wish to seem as if I'm laying in wait for anything that now belongs to my brother."

Francis made to leave for his father's study but not before Mary reached out to stop him.

"Catherine did not send you that letter, I did. I asked you to return to Court and reclaim your throne."

"Mary what? Why?"

"Not here."

Mary clutched at the fabric above her abdomen nervously all the way to her chambers, Francis's footsteps were loud enough that she didn't have to make sure that he was following. It bode well for her if he was willing to speak with her after everything she had done. The door to her chambers was open when they reached but Mary did not pay it any mind, which was why it shook her when she saw Catherine de Medici surrounded by servants inside. The Queen clasped her hands and grinned when she saw her.

"Mary! Come sit, you mustn't remain on your feet for so long. I have been having your things packed to be sent to the Family Wing."

Whatever else Catherine was about to tell Mary would remain a mystery, as she rushed to her son when he followed inside. She embraced him heartily and peppered his entire face with kisses, Catherine's delight at reuniting with her son made sentiments bubble within Mary as well. Once the servants were dismissed and only the three of them remained, Catherine made her leave, making sure to grant them complete privacy. Francis was growing restless by the minute, every moment spent with his former fiancé was excruciating, he loved his brother and he knew how easy it would be to make a mistake with Mary.

"Why am I here Mary? And where is my brother?"

"I am going to tell you something very important but you have to promise to hear the whole story before reacting. You should probably sit down too."  

"You're scaring me." 

Francis took a seat and turned all his attention to her, like he always did when she talked.

"The truth is that Bash and I are not getting married. And there were many reasons for that change, but the largest one was that he wasn't you. It would be unfair of me to compare him to you for the rest of our lives."

"What about the prophesy? Do you no longer believe in Nostradamus's visions?"

"Francis I've made such a terrible mistake in believing in him when I should have had faith in you, in us."

She reached forward to hold his hands, relishing in his touch after so long. She could see some of his apprehension fade at her words and it emboldened her to open her heart.

"There is something else you need to know, I love you Francis. It's you, it's always been you and I know that I have hurt you by trying to protect you. None of that matters now, Nostradamus and your mother were wrong."

Tears were streaming down her face faster than Francis could wipe them away. Here she was, the woman he loved saying everything he wanted to hear from her and yet he could not bring himself to trust in his good fortune.

"How can you be sure that he's wrong? How can I be sure that you won't leave me again?"

"He said you'd die in a year of our marriage, that I would be childless and alone at court but I know that it's not true. I know that because I am carrying your child, our child, just as you'd hoped." 

Francis let go of her and for a moment Mary feared the worst but he only knelt so he could place a gentle kiss on her belly, it would soon swell with their heir, their James. He looked up at her with awe, he was openly crying, a wide smile blooming on his face. She hoped their son had his angelic curls.

"This is the best news I have heard in days Mary."

Her lips curled upward into a beaming smile and she could feel a weight lifting off her chest leaving her lightheaded with euphoria. All too soon Francis stood up to capture her lips in a searing kiss. His hands cupped her cheeks tenderly while she wrapped her arms around his waist. They remained in their embrace, neither caring for the awkward position or how much time had passed. When they finally parted for air, they remained curled up together, soaking up one another's warmth after such a long separation. Francis stroked the flushed cheeks of his Mary, his heart ready to burst with joy.

"Does this mean you'll marry me?"

He asked her.

"Yes."

Chapter Text

Winter’s snowy covers could be felt all across France, the landscape hidden beneath a frosty white blanket. The Anet Country Home which was covered with acres of once green land, now hidden beneath layers of snow. The sun’s meagre rays illuminated the walls of the castle, casting a warm glow on such a cold winter morn.

The occupants of the castle have been up for hours making preparations for the departure the next day. But not everyone had risen with the sun, as the Lord’s chambers had yet to open. The giggling maids didn’t have the heart or courage to interrupt the newlyweds on the final day of their wedding tour. That was why it was late morning when the Queen of Scots opened her eyes.

Warm knuckles brushed against her bare shoulders and down her arms, a strange sensation it was accompanied by the cool metal of her husband’s signet ring. Husband, the thought still made her giddy after two months of marriage. Mary couldn’t believe that there was ever a time when her husband had reservations, not in the way he had shown his devotion in their days away from court. She just hoped that all the mistakes that they made would remain behind them, that they would no longer hurt each other.

Mary’s thoughts came to a halt when Francis’s touch went from innocent to something more passionate, his lips laying bruising kisses all the way from her neck to her collarbone and then down her chest. Waking each other with pleasure had been one of her favourite routines that they’d established on their wedding tour. She clutched her husband’s gold curls to brace herself as he brought her to the edge, her cries echoing throughout their rooms.

It was moments later and Francis was still lying down, his head tucked on her belly, whispering lullabies to her three-month-old bump. She would start to show soon and it was lucky that they had been gone for so long that the court would have no suspicions regarding the conception of their child.

“What will he look like I wonder?”

Francis sat up to rest beside her, his arms wrapping around her and pulled the covers up for warmth. The fire was still burning near but it was so chilly that any additional heat was welcome, not that it would convince them to leave the bed to clothe themselves.

“I think he’ll look like you, I would like our son to have your curls. They are so pretty.”

Her cheeky remark earned her a pinch at her waist and a pout that she quickly kissed away.

“Well, I would like him to look like you, a French King with a Scottish name and features to match? The reactions would be amusing to witness. I wonder what my mother would think.”

The mischievous grin on his face made Francis look like the young prince that he truly was, and even though spiting the French nobility was a horrible reason for wanting their son to look Scottish, it eased her to know that Francis did care about Scotland, as he was now her King.

“Catherine would love all of your children Francis, that I am sure of.”

“I have noticed how much she has come to like you lately, all because of the baby.”

Francis was correct in his assessment, ever since she shared the news of her pregnancy, Catherine’s behaviour towards her became positively doting. Mary welcomed it now, the Queen of France was a powerful ally to have, especially after the dismissive attitude of her own mother. She could never forget the glib way in which she celebrated Bash’s broken heart, or the last piece of advice she gave her daughter. Make some heirs, as quick as you can. It is her sons that give Queens power. She even had the audacity of calling her sex a misfortune, as if she wasn’t just as capable of ruling Scotland as a son would.

“I was thinking that for our last day here, we should go riding on the grounds.”

Francis proposed.

“You mean that we take one last journey through the woods before we return to the castle and your mother hovers around me?”

“Precisely my love.”

It was hours later that they returned. Riding in the woods surrounding the country house felt so freeing for the two royals that they stayed out enjoying the fresh air till the sun set. Riding horses was not the only activity the couple engaged in as Mary convinced her husband of the adventurous act of lovemaking against a tree. It was not the most comfortable of positions but being in the open wild brought about a certain animalistic side of Francis that no one in all of France would believe if she told them, not that she would; watching Francis lose all sense before her was a sight only for his wife.

Mary and Francis were shivering from the cold when they entered the halls of their current home. A servant was made to draw a hot bath and have dinner sent up. They shed their cold and damp clothing in front of the fire, stealing a few lingering touches before stepping into the tub of steamy water. Mary let out a groan as her strained muscles eased with the warm water, she wouldn’t admit to the ache in her thighs that resulted from all the riding she had done today. However, judging by the smugness on Francis’s face he had noticed her limping. They stayed in the tub until the water turned lukewarm and their skin pruned, playing and teasing each other.

Over dinner Francis shared stories of his exploits during his time away from court. While it was a difficult time for him, some of his experiences were truly helpful. It was the first time the Dauphin had interacted with people outside the Chateau de Fontainebleau, his people other than the rich and influential nobility of France. He recalled a tale where he was mistaken for an old lady’s grandson. The woman had been half blind with age and wouldn’t let him leave, he’d had to escape in the middle of the night like a convict.

“I also won at a very risky game of cards in Paris, just hours before your letter arrived. I was quite nervous in truth, losing meant that the owner would gain not just sixteen times the wager but also the possession of- “

Lady Lola

He didn’t even remember how that particular night ended, now sharing the story brought it all back. Francis looked at his stunning bride; her raven hair curled around her face like a halo, her eyes alight with joy and it pierced his heart that he must break hers with his confession. He had promised not to hurt her anymore, but he’d also promised to remain honest with her. Mary felt the shift in his mood and frowned at him, sitting up straight in apprehension.

“Francis? Is something wrong?”

The Dauphin released a breath and locked gazes with his Queen.

“There is something I want to tell you, something that happened with me in Paris. I want you to know that I didn’t think it mattered, that you were with my brother and I’d never see you again. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You’re scaring me Francis what did you do?”

“I encountered Lady Lola at a Gentlemen’s establishment in Paris, she was there to pay her brother’s debt but he was caught cheating to win money. The owner wanted her services as payment. She is your lady and I couldn’t let it happen.”

“So, you made a wager to win her for yourself.”

Francis nodded at Mary and averted his gaze towards the hearth burning in front of them.

“I had no ill intentions, she was just a friendly face, a reminder of the life that I’d lost. We spent the night talking, there was a lot of wine involved. Eventually one thing led to another and …”

“You slept with her.”

Mary’s expression was stony, her voice measured and even though she wanted to rage and scream she didn’t, not at him. Francis moved from his seat to kneel at her feet, his hands coming to hold hers, pleading at her with his cerulean orbs.

“I am so sorry my love, at the time I did not pay it any mind but now you are my wife. If I could take it back, I swear to you I would. I hold no affection for her I promise you, I love you and I always have. Being with your lady was a terrible mistake.”

Tears dropped from his eyes onto his flushed cheeks and Mary freed her hand to wipe them away, cupping his cheek. Her other hand reached up to comb his hair in what she hoped was a soothing manner.

“It’s alright, I forgive you.”

Francis blinked in bewilderment; he did not expect her to be so generous with her forgiveness. He betrayed her, slept with her friend, Mary should be furious.

“Just like that? You forgive me? Mary aren’t you angry?”

“I am angry, Francis. But, not at you, it would be unfair of me to hold anything you did against you. We were not together then and you had no obligation to remain faithful to me.”

“You blame Lola, you must know that she felt very guilty afterwards.”

Hearing Francis defend her clawed at her and she stood up in rage. She paced back and forth in front of the hearth, hands in her hair in frustration.

“Did she now? Tell me Francis did you force her?”

“Of course not! How could you ever think it possible?”

 Francis could not understand why his wife was speaking of such a thing, he had never seen her so mad with fury, not even when he’d been with Olivia.

“Lola had a choice then..”

“Yes Mary, Lola had a choice.”

“And she chose to sleep with the man I love, knowing that I loved him still, knowing that I was carrying his child!”

And there it was; the extent of Lady Lola’s betrayal. By betraying her Queen and disrupting her marriage with the Dauphin of France, Lola had committed treason. How could Mary ever trust her again?

“She knew about the baby? Why didn’t she tell me? I asked her about you, about my mother. She never said anything.”

There was a vulnerability in Francis as he asked her, he thought he could trust her too. Lola never seemed to be the kind of person who would withhold important information. While Mary did swear all her ladies to secrecy, he would hate the thought of being kept in the dark.

“All my ladies know, along with Catherine and Bash, he had a right to know.”

Francis opened his arms for his wife and Mary happily accepted his embrace. He was glad that the truth was revealed to both of them. Tomorrow morning, they would journey back to French Court, all the politics, backstabbing and murder that awaited them was enough; there own secrets shouldn’t put a strain on their new marriage. Francis and Mary were the future King and Queen of France, expecting parents to a prince; they needed to be united and strong if they had any chance of survival.

Chapter Text

Is that my husband’s child?

The ride back to the castle was darkened with the shadow of Lola’s pregnancy, a large and terrible part of Mary wanted to return to that hut and have the bastard child taken care of. They were happy after so much grief, why did this have to happen? Why must God test her in this way?

She was afraid of the changes that Lola’s child would bring to her life, her marriage was in so many dangers. With Bash stirring up trouble with Francis, England’s unending war with her country and Henry pressuring her to claim the English throne; Mary had no respite. The midwives tell her that stress puts her baby in danger, she was a Queen, stress was part of her life. Now Lola had gone and added another problem to the pile, she knew what Catherine would advise her to do but Mary did care for her lady; even after everything that’s happened.

It was latter outside the stables when Lola had the courage to approach her Queen. The girl was shaking; if it was fear or the cold, she was not sure. She knew that she had betrayed Mary, and the only thing left to do was beg for her pardon.

“Mary, I am so sorry.”

Lola’s cheeks were already wet with tears.

“Sorry that you slept with my husband or sorry that you’re pregnant?”

It was taking every bit of self-control for Mary to resist striking her.

“Francis told me about what happened in Paris, he also told me that you felt guilty afterwards.”

“I did Mary, I swear I did. Francis didn’t think he’d ever see you again...”

“But you knew, didn’t you? My future husband, the father of my child and your future King. He was all those things and you knowingly slept with him anyways!”

Mary stormed off towards the castle, Lola hot on her heels.

“Mary you cannot tell Francis!”

She beseeched the Queen of Scots.

“And why not?”

“If you tell Francis then I essentially become his, nothing more than a vessel bearing a royal child.”

“A royal bastard.”

“Please Mary, I have made a terrible mistake, but I can’t pay for it with my freedom. I can’t be known as Francis’s Mistress”

Mary placed a hand on Lola’s shaking arm, a wave of sympathy coursed through her and for a moment she was inclined to agree. But then, she recalled the anguish in her husband’s eyes when his confessed to her his indiscretion. He didn’t have to tell her; he could have kept the secret to save her the pain but he didn’t. Francis was honest with her, he trusted her after what she did, he wanted them to trust one another.

“You will not be his Mistress Lola, I promise you.”

“Oh Mary! Thank you.”

“But I will not keep this from my husband. Francis and I will decide the best course of action together and let you know.”

Mary’s words turned Lola’s gratitude into disbelief, the lady was appalled at the proposal and could not keep herself from objecting.

“You will make this decision without me? I am the child’s mother. How would you feel if someone made decisions about your child?”

“Do not compare our children! They may share their father but my son was not a mistake.”

She could not understand how Lola could claim to be a mother when she planned on killing her baby, had she come to them with the truth maybe things would be different.

“And Lola, you gave your life in service to me, your Queen. I will protect you and your child. But I will not lie to Francis for you.”

With those final words, Mary Stuart made her way inside the castle, leaving Lady Lola with her thoughts.

That night, while Francis readied himself for bed, Mary lay waiting. She was debating on how to bring up the days events to him while silently fearing his reaction. She turned around to look at him when the covers pulled, he got into bed beside her and leaned against the pillows with a gentle smile.

“I missed you today. I have gotten so used to spending my time with you, I didn’t expect such a small distance to hurt.”

Mary gave him a watery smile and reached for his hand, pressing small kisses on his palm and wrist.

“I also heard that you left the castle, it’s too cold out. Why did you go?”

“I had Bash take me in the woods, I went to see a woman, she is known for helping ladies get rid of unwanted pregnancies.”

Francis’s smile fell at the mention of his half-brother, it twisted into a frown at the rest of her words. Why on earth would Mary visit such a woman? She loved their unborn child, what purpose could there be for her to go there?

“Kenna told me that Lola went to see the woman.”

Mary sat up against the headboard, she tightened her grip on Francis’s hand and took a deep breath, he could see the apprehension in her eyes clearly.

“I stopped her from ending her child’s life but now I wonder if I made the right choice, the procedure looked dangerous to me and I couldn’t let her suffer that.”

“So, Lola is with child, but why would you tell me that? Unless…”

Francis became rigid next to her as the truth dawned on him, his mouth opened and closed but no words came out. His hands reached for his head and clutched his golden curls, his teeth clenched tightly. Mary held his hands and gently lowered them; she silently cursed her lady when she saw the storm in her husband’s eyes.

“A bastard. This is the last thing we need. What does Lola want to do?”

“She didn’t want me to tell you, she said she needs time to figure it out on her own.”

“I am so sorry for all of this. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you how my father hurt my mother.”

Mary held cupped his cheeks and leaned up to kiss his forehead, she did not want him to compare himself to King Henry and her to Queen Catherine. They were more than just an alliance, they loved each other. Francis had not been unfaithful or carried on an affair, it was one night and it shouldn't have the power to make things so complicated.

“You made a mistake that I have already forgiven, whatever happens now, we will face it together.”

Francis’s lips curved upwards, he leaned in to kiss her and she happily welcomed him in her arms. There was no point in discussing Lola’s child any further. He had spent the whole day missing his beautiful wife and he planned to make up for it all night long.

Chapter Text

A month has passed since Mary and Francis returned from their wedding tour and Catherine de Medici was out of patience. Her daughter-in-law was now more than four months into her pregnancy and it was time for an announcement, she had planned it all. Her son would make a declaration at the First Light Banquet tonight. The Queen of France made her way to Mary’s chambers, her son spent most of his nights there so it was the perfect place to catch them and share her plans. She opened the doors without hesitation and marched into the room.

“How’s the happy trinity? Father, Mother and unborn son!”

Catherine was beaming, so satisfied with her plans that she didn’t bat an eyelash at the very naked couple on the bed fumbling to get under the covers. Mary and Francis did not understand how they were to possibly react to the Queen’s presence in their chambers or her interruption to their morning routine.

“Mother! What could be so urgent that it couldn’t wait until breakfast?”

“I have come to tell you that tonight will be the perfect time to share your bundle of joy with the court. All of French nobility will be present, along with the English delegation.”

The Queen made her way to the bed to join them, smirking at their attempts to further hide themselves. Mary sent pointed looks to her husband, urging him to get his mother to leave.

“I thought we agreed to wait.”

“We have waited long enough; an heir strengthens your wife’s position at court. As long as Elizabeth remains unwed, you Mary are the better option for England’s next Queen.”

It was true, with Mary Tudor on death’s door, the Queen of Scotland had a claim to the English throne made all the better with France at her side. If Mary proves capable of providing male heirs, she will be seen as a stronger option by many, including the Catholic Church.

“Now that it’s settled,” Catherine clapped her hands loudly, “You may enter!”

At her command, servants came into the chambers carrying a heavy trunk and set it at the foot of the bed. Catherine had them open it to reveal an assortment of dresses and finery. She pulled out a gorgeous cream gown with gold detailing.

“Catherine what’s all this?”

Mary asked her mother-in-law with amazement, while Francis smiled, content to see the women he loved finally get along.

“Your maternity wardrobe, it is time that we bring attention to your success as the future Queen of France. Wear this to the feast tonight and watch as French Court fawns over you and your heir.”

Catherine ushered the servants away and leaned to embrace Mary, it was uncomfortable for the younger Queen but she welcomed the affection nonetheless. She then left a kiss on her son’s cheek before making her departure, finally leaving Mary and Francis to make themselves decent. Both of them couldn't control their mirth at the turn their morning took and when Mary's ladies came in to dress her for they day they couldn't help but smile at the giggles that escaped husband and wife as they recounted the incident to them.

“It is with great pleasure that I stand before all of you to announce that God has blessed Queen Mary and I with an heir, for in a few months my wife will give birth to the future King of France!”

Catherine was right about the power that came with her condition. For the first time since her return from Convent, Mary truly felt accepted at French Court. She was no longer a guest, no longer simply the wife of the Dauphin. She was their future Queen in truth, and even after her husband left this (which won’t be for many years) she will forever be tied to the House of Valois by her children, by her blood. Soon after, the Queen and King of Scotland were surrounded by well wishers and tittering nobles. Only the young and unwed nobility remained otherwise engaged in the First Light tradition.

Through the crowd, Mary caught a glimpse of Lola conversing with Count Philipe Nardeen, a suitor that Mary had found for Lola in Paris during her wedding tour. If all went well, Lola would quickly wed the man and the matter of her unborn child will be settled. None needed to know of her indiscretion with Francis and her husband was more than happy with the arrangement.

“Is Lola with Philipe Nardeen? He’s the suitor you mentioned to me?”

Francis had finally excused himself from the noblemen and returned to her side. His brows were furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. The Count was not the man he would have picked for Mary’s lady.

“Why what’s wrong with him? He’s wealthy, titled and in need of a wife and heirs.”

“It’s just that it would be difficult for Lola to convince him of his fatherhood, seeing as he prefers the company of men.”

The last bit was whispered into her ear, Francis planted a kiss on the delicate skin of her neck, portraying the image of a lovestruck couple instead of partners of espionage.

“Well don’t you all?”

“In bed Mary, it makes no difference to me. but we do need to make the parentage of Lola’s child believable.”

“Hmm, then that’s not a solution at all.”

Francis wrapped his arms around her waist, settling his palms to cover her dainty hands on the slight swell of her belly, emphasised by the fit of her new gown. It brought both of them joy to be able to show their unborn babe affection openly after hiding it for so long. While Lady Lola’s complicated circumstances were a strain, he wouldn’t let it burden his wife. She was carrying precious cargo after all.

“Have faith my darling, we will find a solution.”

Together, as partners.

“You rejected the Count’s offer of courtship?”

Lola jumped in her seat by the window when the door to her room opened and shut audibly. The Queen of Scotland glared at her and paced back and forth. Mary had just learned from Kenna that Lola had refused to court Phillipe.

“Do you know how rare it is to find a wealthy noble willing to get married immediately with no delay? What a boon it is for you? Why would you not accept?”

Lola rose to her feet to meet Mary’s furious gaze and clenched her jaw.

“His proposal seemed more transactional than anything, he needs to marry to get his inheritance, he won’t hold any warmth for me.”

“And you need to marry to give your child legitimacy Lola, what does it matter what he choses to do in his free time? You both have secrets to hide, you’ll be perfectly matched.”

Mary’s comment alarmed Lola, what secrets did the Count have?

“He prefers the company of men in his bedchambers.”

“So, you push me to marry a man that will never be attracted to me? Can never give me true happiness?”

Lola spat out in irritation.

“Maybe you had your chance!”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you made a mistake Lola, and now you must face the consequences of it. Why would you choose to betray me in such a way? What could possibly posses you to sleep with Francis?”

Mary cried out in despair; this question haunted her ever since she learned of their night in Paris. Lola never showed any indication that she cared for her husband; she’d never even noticed him before; unless she lied about that.

“It was a moment of weakness! He took a risk to save me, he was gallant and charming. He’s always been that for you, but for that night he was my gentle knight. For a moment I felt like the princesses that we used to read stories about and I got swept up in the feeling of it.”

That foolish little girl! All Mary could think about was what those childish dreams of hers had cost them. Francis was a good person, a decent man with a gentle heart; however, that did not excuse Lola’s actions and nor did it change them. She endangered her rule for a fleeting feeling and Mary could not let such a complication impact her life or her marriage anymore.

“I have no need for your flimsy excuses. When Philipe Nardeen asks for your hand in marriage, you will accept it. That is an order from your Queen.”

Chapter Text

Francis was still shivering; Bash had helped him lie down on the divan in front of the roaring hearth. Carrying his half-brother to Mary’s chambers was a bitter pill for Bash to swallow, while he had been in those rooms many times before; things had changed. There were personal affects now, physical proof that the girl that he coveted so dearly shared a life with his royal brother now. He could no longer say for sure if Francis had ordered him killed, but he knew that he could no longer pretend to hate him. Hours ago, when he fell into the ice all Bash cared about was saving his little brother from danger.

Bash made his way to sit beside Francis and help him swallow the vial of medicine that Nostradamus had left after examining him. As long as he was kept warm, the prince would make a full recovery.

“Have you sent word for Mary?”

Francis sneezed from the chill and was reminded of his childhood. There was a time when Queen Catherine’s firstborn would fall ill every year in the cooler months, many courtiers believed that he wouldn’t survive to adulthood and yet here he was. Little Bash would often sneak into the royal nursery to play with his baby brother, the nannies were too afraid of Henry to tattle and many were too charmed by the boy’s affection to stop those visits. As long as Francis has been aware, he loved and trusted his brother and now he wasn’t sure where they stood.

Francis sat up on shaky limbs to observe Bash, the worry and fear in his hazel gaze contrasting with the guarded tightness in his posture.

“I know that you think I want you gone out of jealousy and while it may be partly true, I trust my wife and I know that you won’t sway her no matter how hard you try.”

Oh! the entitlement and arrogance in that tone truly proved him to be a spoiled prince in Bash’s opinion.

“Then why try to have me killed? If you are so sure of yourself?”

“I did not order my guards to kill you!”

“How am I supposed to believe that after the way you acted right before your wedding. You broke my nose and essentially banished me.”

“You stole my fiancé! You were all to happy to take my life and leave me with nothing. You were my brother and instead of standing by me, you turned on me.”

That was the truth; the root of his contempt toward Sebastian. Brothers were supposed to put each other first, not conspire to destroy one another. First, he kissed Mary when she was drunk, flirted with her and put her life in danger. Then he ran away with her instead of convincing her to talk to Francis like a loyal brother should. Time and time again, he chose Mary over Francis and it hurt him to know that. Even now, Bash carried a flame for his wife, mother of his child, did his brother not care that she carried his nephew? The rumours that would emerge if the court saw how desperately Bash returned to the castle, these kinds of rumours cost Queens their heads.   

“Mary and I did it to protect you, and it’s true that I love her, I always will. But I know that there is nothing between us anymore. I did not return for your wife brother I promise you.”

Bash and Francis were now sitting shoulder to shoulder on the divan, the younger brother occasionally sipping broth to keep himself warm. The intensity of the conversation soon died down and the topic switched to their excursion in the icy meadow. They were making plans for capturing the so-called Darkness when the door to the chambers flew open and Mary Stuart rushed in. The Queen of Scots was breathing heavily, signalling her haste in arriving, both her hands were holding her abdomen while her eyes were wide with fear. She hurried over to the two brothers, giving Bash a quick hug of gratitude before sitting beside her husband.

Mary placed her warm palms on Francis’s face and neck, checking him over for any signs of injury or pain. She peppered his skin with kisses; his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead and even the back of his hands. She then took his still cold form into her arms, his head on her shoulder as she wrapped them both in her thick fur cloak, there was nothing warmer than Scottish winter clothing.

“You are a fool, Francis Valois! Trekking on unstable ice alone. What if Bash hadn’t reached you in time? What if we’d lost you? You cannot be so reckless anymore; you have a family to think of.”

Tears were now spilling down her cheeks at the mere thought of Francis’s death, of being a widow so soon, of her son being born an orphan. So many sacrifices she had made to keep him safe and he just endangered himself without a second thought. Francis raised his head and reached forward to wipe away the dampness at her cheeks, the further her pregnancy progressed the more frequent Mary’s tears became. He was now very used to his wife’s bursting emotions, Bash on the other was very uncomfortable at the scene. He was pretty sure that both of them had forgotten that they had a spectator, lost as they were in one another.

“I am fine Mary, Bash saved me. There is no need to worry yourself.”

Mary met his eyes and smiled at him with the warmth of a thousand hearths, amber flecks could be seen dancing in her glistening orbs and for a moment Bash could pretend that it was love for him that he could see, instead of appreciation for saving the man she truly loved.

“You both are lucky that Catherine is being kept busy by the Bean Queen or she would have been here hovering over you.”

Mary’s words made Bash shudder at the possibility. Catherine de Medici would surely have his head for endangering her precious golden child. He had given her plenty of reasons for wanting him dead.

“There is something else you need to know, Henry learned about your release Bash. Penelope is keeping him busy for now, but you must leave before he finds you.”

The warning held more weight now that Mary was certain that the King was acting unusually volatile. The crude way in which he asked her to pleasure Penelope was disturbing, Henry was known for being cruel but this was out of line. She was his daughter-in-law and a fellow monarch; how could he possibly believe that his depravity would be accepted? To treat the Queen of Scotland like a common whore was outrageous and it only proved that the King was losing all sense.

Mary’s judgement soon turned out to be correct as the evening’s events unfolded. Learning that Henry was the one to order Francis’s guards to kill Bash was a relief and a pain. At least the brothers could try to repair their relationship now without such doubts, even if it hurt Bash to realise that his father was truly capable of killing him. Then again, it did not take a genius to understand that Henry only cared for himself.

Poor Kenna also got the short end of the stick, her dreams of luxury and greatness squashed with her forced marriage to the King’s bastard, a man with no fortune and a made-up title; Master of Horse and Hunt. The Queen of Scots could only watch in horror at the display of madness, when Kenna had accepted her position as the King’s Mistress, she had also put herself at his mercy. While she was technically Mary’s lady, Kenna was more of a French citizen than Scottish now, making her fate dependent on the King.

Even Catherine was not safe from Henry’s madness, clearly the Queen of France held no influence over Henry’s actions. Now with Penelope pulling the strings, there was no guessing what the future held for the House of Valois. Francis and Mary glanced at each other in dread, with Kenna’s cries and Bash’s forced vows one thing was clear to them. They had a very hard battle ahead of them if they had any hope of protecting their family.

Chapter Text

The winter in France was finally over, bowing down to the emergence of spring. Most of the snow on the castle grounds had melted, giving the fresh green grass a chance to bathe in the sunlight. With the weather settling down, more and more nobles could be seen at court to enjoy the festivities meant to celebrate new beginnings. Just two weeks before, there was a wedding held of one Lola Flemming and Julien Varga. The new Lady Varga was enjoying herself at court with the rest of Queen Mary’s ladies.

In honour of her daughter-in-law and her unborn grandchild, Catherine de Medici had organised a garden party only for the noble ladies at French Court. The event was currently in full swing, with the guest of honour surrounded by giggling women, fawning over her prominent baby bump. Mary was now in her fifth month of pregnancy and glowing more than ever, the regal mother-to-be. The Queen of France knew that she had a long way to go before she could return in Mary’s good graces.

The tenuous peace between the two Queens had been disturbed when Catherine ordered the assassination of Lord McKenzie and his men, preventing news of the marriage contracts between Scotland and France to reach the Scottish Protestants. The young queen was emotional at the time, she did not understand the actions that Catherine took to prevent a complication. A part of her had to admit that the way Mary blackmailed her brought a feeling of pride in her heart, the Queen of Scots may behave irrationally, but she was learning.

Catherine made her way to Mary and her ladies, she was currently chatting with Lady Devereaux, Duchess of Normandy. The duke was a young fellow with vast holdings and a seat on the Privy Council, how he got such a beautiful young thing to marry him was anyone’s guess. The duchess smiled brightly at her Queen and offered her a seat.

“My darling daughter! What a vision you are this afternoon, especially in such a lovely gown. Whoever had it made for you must have exquisite taste.”

She was wearing a silk and satin gown, the color of fresh blood and royalty.

“Not a single soul could contest your taste, Your Grace.”

There was a sharpness to Mary’s tone that only a trained eye could decipher, certainly not the vapid ladies at court. Catherine leaned closer to tuck a lock of hair behind Mary’s ear, feigning affection.

“A delegation from Scotland has arrived, the Earl of Moray is here, Francis has greeted them and arranged for their visit. Your presence is required in the Throne Room.”

“Keep your distance then, you do have a habit of killing my countrymen.”

“You need to let it go Mary, I did it for France.”

“Forgive me if I do not approve of your methods, then again it is the Medici way is it not?”

Mary stood up with the help of Greer and gave Catherine one last veiled look of contempt before making her excuses to her guests, making her way inside the castle.

“James! What are you doing here? Is everything okay at home?”

Her half-brother stood before her after so long. She hadn’t seen him since he visited her for her fourteenth birthday at the convent. He was many years older than her and part of the few family that she had. The Earl of Moray bowed for his Queen with a charming smirk on his lips, what power his little sister had amassed for herself and yet still she was but a girl. Mary stepped forward to embrace her brother heartily, laughing when he jested about her extra weight.

“Congratulations sister, your mother and the lords are ecstatic at your victory.”

Mary scoffed at his choice of words; oh, she was aware of her victory being celebrated by Marie de Guise. She had been getting letters after letters filled with motherly advice and concern, it was ironic that the woman who was scarcely a mother to her would offer up motherly wisdom now that she was providing her the legacy that she desired. Mary knew that her mother had grand plans for power, the House of Guise was nothing if not opportunistic. In fact, in her recent letter Marie had expressed her plans of travelling to France for the birth of her grandson.

“I haven’t seen you in so long James, come, we must catch up.”

“We will soon, but first we need to talk about the situation in Scotland.”

That got her attention.

“What situation? Mother has not mentioned any problems to me.”

“The people of Scotland are rising up against the French leadership, they feel like they are being colonized by their French regent. They want their affairs run by people sharing their nationality. Your mother doesn’t see it as a problem but I do.”

“What do you wish for me to do James? Tell her to bring more Scots into her government?”

“Just one will do for now.”

Mary narrowed her eyes at her brother.

“Who? You?”

“No Mary, You. Scotland needs to see her Queen and bow to her, just as I do. You need to come home.”

It was late at night when Mary had finally gotten the chance to discuss her plans to visit Scotland with Francis, the Cardinal had occupied Mary, with King Henry losing his mind it was all the more important for the Vatican and Rome to be kept in the dark. Francis and Mary were the future of France and Scotland, it was easy to convince the Cardinal to deal with them directly. However, after observing her husband’s reaction Mary was regretting mentioning it at all.

“You cannot possibly think it’s a good idea to travel so far right now.”

Francis dropped his gaze to her abdomen to emphasize his point but he seemed to have forgotten who he married.

“The midwife says I can travel for the next few weeks actually, I only need to stay for a few days at most, and then I’ll come back.”

“I see that the issue needs attention, but why your attention personally, let me send diplomats instead.”

Yes, because sending a French delegation would be a great way to reassure her people that she wasn’t trying to make Scotland a French colony.

“My people need to see their Queen Francis!”

“Can’t it wait until after you’ve given birth?”

“Travel with a newborn? Like that’s not dangerous.”

“What about our deal with the Cardinal? You can’t leave it unfinished. I need you here Mary.”

“You can handle the affairs of France with your mother for a few weeks perfectly well.”

“You are not listening; my father is mad! France is on the verge of losing everything, if the Vatican learns of the King’s state; they will pull their support from our family. What will become of the alliance then? France needs to be strong if it’s to protect Scotland from England.”

Mary clenched her teeth in frustration and glared at Francis.

“That’s all you care about, stability for France, an heir for France and a present consort for the future King of France. In case you have forgotten; you are King of Scotland now too!”

Francis took a step back from his wife and turned to sneer at the floor, his hands in fists at his side, taking his anger out at his pregnant wife was not the right thing to do.

“Do not put words in my mouth, I don’t just care about France, I am also thinking about my wife and child. As your consort, my duty is to you.”

“I am Scotland, Francis. The sooner you accept that the better.”

The conversation with Bash rang in Francis’s ears as he returned to his chambers. He knew that there was little he could do to dissuade his wife from doing something once she set her mind to it and Mary was putting her nation above everything else, like a good Queen ought to do. There was only one way for him to ensure that Mary and their baby would be safe on their journey.

Mary was seated at her desk, surrounded by papers, trying to find a solution to the problems faced by her people. Her lips pulled thin when her husband entered, she was not feeling up to another argument.

“I have been thinking and I’ve decided that I will take you to Scotland myself.”

“Yes, but when? You made it perfectly clear how long you wanted to wait…”

“Now… as soon as possible…” Francis went to her side, leaning on the armrest of her chair, “I will have to close my deal with the Cardinal, ensure my mother can handle things here. Our visit will have to be brief and we will have to take every precaution we can to keep you and the baby healthy.”

Mary’s face split in a beaming smile and her eyes welled up with love for her husband.

“But what if something comes up here? What if your father gets worse?”

Francis cupped her cheek and stroked her temple with his thumb affectionately.

“What if my wife doesn’t realize that I love her? That she doesn’t see that I will put her first?”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, smiling at the way she closed her eyes to savor the feeling.

“Thank you, Francis. You’ll be glad that we went, once Scotland is stronger, France will be too.”

“Now start packing, and tell your brother that Scotland will soon greet her Queen and her King.”

Francis’s words filled her heart with hope. For the future of their rule and their marriage, Mary needed to trust that her husband will not only think about his birth country but hers too.

Later, it became clear that Francis’s promise was too good to be true. The English gold found on James’s footman sent her husband into a frenzy of overprotectiveness; accusing her brother of planning her death was ridiculous in her opinion. Her country needed her, her mother needed her and she would not abandon them.

“Pack my things for two weeks, I am leaving for Scotland tonight.”

It was just as he’d feared; a plot to assassinate the Queen of Scots on her voyage home. When Francis heard from the servants that Mary was leaving in a matter of hours, he sprinted off to find her. Panic was seizing him, his heart gripped with fear of losing his family. Mary Tudor truly was a heinous bitch; ordering the murder of her pregnant cousin for her throne was atrocious.

Thankfully, Mary had not left the castle yet. When he relayed the information given to him by the footman, Mary refused to see reason.

“How can you be sure that James is involved in the plot? Did his footman confess his guilt?”

Mary asked.

“No, but can you take that chance? Risk your life? Our son’s life?”

“I take that chance every day Francis, England has wanted me dead my whole life. But James is loyal to me, he will never betray me. We both want what is best for Scotland.”

“Mary please, I will take you home myself, when I know it is safe.”

He was begging now; how could she not see the danger to her life? He had already lost her once to his brother, he could not lose her to death, it was out of the question. Mary held both of Francis’s hands to sooth him, she knew how scared he was for her safety, but she was Queen of a country that needed her.

“It may never be safe, my country is in jeopardy now, my mother is in danger now. I have to leave.”

“Mary you are no longer just a Queen, you are a mother now. How can you knowingly put our child at risk?”

“I will not be at risk, Francis. I am taking every precaution. I will come home to you; please trust that.”

“I can’t”

Francis sighed in resignation and slipped his hand away from her hold.

“Guards, surround the Queen.”

“Francis…what are you doing?”

He closed his eyes in defeat, he couldn’t bare to see the betrayal on her face. He didn’t wish for it to come to this, but his beautiful stubborn wife left him with little choice. He’d rather face her hatred than face her death.

I love you and I have put you first.

Chapter Text

Come back to me…

Live through this battle and don’t let England cost me you…

The cheers were deafening, the courtyard of Chateau de Fontainebleau was crowded with celebrating men. After two hundred years, Calais was finally free from England and a French territory once more. The Queen of Scots was nervously watching the French army return, the way her and Francis left things was less than ideal and she couldn’t wait to see him again. The pit in her stomach became heavier and heavier, all the commanders were now inside, but the Dauphin was nowhere to be seen.

Leith Bayard of all people dropped to his knees in front of the King and Queen of France, Mary ran to them as fast as her feet could take her. Something was terribly wrong; she could feel it in her bones. Leith removed the sword from his scabbard and she dropped to her knees at the sight of it. She knew that sword, she had seen it in her husband’s hands when he departed.

No… it’s not possible.

He promised her.

Henry took one look at his son’s sword and drew his own, Leith’s head went rolling in seconds. Catherine had to be physically restrained and Mary…

The scream that left her silenced the world, her very soul shattering into a million fragments.  She no longer cared that all of French nobility could see her, let them watch. She would never be their Queen, for how could she be Queen of France if her King was dead.  Black spots appeared in her vision, her cheeks red and her throat raw; tears streaming down her face. When the darkness took over her, Mary welcomed it like an old friend.

Mary’s eyes opened with a gasp, she pushed herself to sit up. It was just a nightmare, leaning against the pillows, she rubbed her eyes and wiped away the moisture in them. It’s been more than a month since Francis left for Calais with the army and she’d been having the same nightmare over and over again. Her fear for his safety during war made it easier for her to forgive his actions before. Locking her up was an act of desperation, she could see that now. Francis had sent her ladies to accompany her for those two days, every luxury was moved into that prison cell to keep her comfortable but a gilded cage was still a cage. Now Mary wished that she held the foresight to lock her husband in the tower, at least he would be safe by her side.

“It’s the middle of the night Mary, are you unwell?”

Greer’s whisper in the dark made her jump, she didn’t expect to wake her. These past few days had made Mary restless at night and Greer volunteered to stay with her to watch over her. With Kenna happy in her life with Bash and Lola away from court with Julien, Greer was her only lady truly helping her navigate through the recent difficulties of her pregnancy.

“It was just a nightmare Greer, go back to sleep.”

Mary reassured her.

Greer sat up till they were shoulder to shoulder and reached for Mary’s hand. Not long after, the expecting mother winced in pain, rubbing her belly to try and calm her rambunctious child. Little James was never still, even when he was kicking her ribs, she could feel him pressing against her spine. With almost two months left, Mary was ready for it to be over, how would she handle so many weeks of such discomfort and rule a country? Her mother was still besieged by Protestant militants and all the help she had been able to send was futile, she needed to do something and quickly or her nation would be lost.

It was midday when Marie de Guise sent her a letter with a clear solution. The only obstacle was that it required the help of Catherine de Medici. With the Queen’s cousins visiting, it would be even more difficult to appeal to her fondness for her grandson. Mary was aware that she was only dear to Catherine so long as she carried the heir to France and she wasn’t about to miss the benefits it gave her. With steely determination, Mary marched or rather gracefully waddle to the Throne Room. She even swallowed down the insults she wanted to hurl at Hortenza de Medici.

Once alone, Mary showed Catherine her mother’s letter.

“I wish I could help my dear, but all of our funds are tied up in the war.”

“I am referring to your personal funds, the one I know you have hidden away in case you need to escape France.”

Catherine raised an eyebrow, her expression giving away nothing.

“I have no idea what you are speaking of.”

“Catherine please, I am begging you.”

“Do not beg, you are a Queen!”

She snapped.

“Begging gives the impression that you are weak. It invites pity and disdain. Do that and you will need a secret fund.”

Mary’s jaw clenched and eyes blazed as Catherine walked off. She had given her mother-in-law the chance to help her, to be a human being and save the life of a friend and she refused. Now she will do whatever necessary to save her mother. Mary turned to leave to return to her chambers; she had a guest waiting for her.

After her investigation proved Hortenza as the culprit behind Catherine’s kidnapping, she was still uneasy. Something was not adding up, of all the ways of getting money, why would her cousin resort to such measures? She was a Medici with plenty of other ways to get her hands on gold. No, this was Mary, she was sure of it and she would prove it.

The Queen of Scots was sitting beside the fire in a comfortable rocking chair, her hands rubbing her enormous belly in soothing motions while singing a lullaby. She was the picture of maternity and innocence, no one could ever suspect of ordering a small group of trained killers.

“Please go to sleep little one, Mama is so very tired tonight.”

A radiant smile bloomed on her face when she felt another movement, every part of her wished for Francis to share this moment with her. All day she had been enduring painful cramps and she was relieved that they seemed to have passed now.

“Busy day for you? Did you do anything interesting?”

Mary looked up in alarm at the Queen, her heart hammering in her ribcage as she pressed a hand to her chest. Her smile soured at the vengeance she saw in the older woman’s eyes.

“What a conniving girl you turned out to be.”

“Excuse me?”

“I know it was you Mary, you hired a mercenary to have me kidnapped and then framed my cousin for it.”

Fear gripped at Mary and she stood on shaking legs to brace herself for the assault that was surely to follow… a loud slap echoed in the chambers and Mary palmed her burning cheek.

“I should have you beheaded for this! Francis will learn of your treachery; what do you think he will do when he learns of your attempt on my life? He will never forgive you.”

“Catherine… you are making a mistake; I would never harm you.”

 “Oh, save your tears for someone who cares…”

Whatever vitriol Catherine was hurling at her stopped when Mary let out a bloodcurdling scream. The pain in her abdomen was back, and more intense than before. She curled into herself and her knees hit the floor with an audible thud. Catherine grabbed her shoulders to break her fall and called the guards to call for help when she saw the pooling of blood at her feet.

“Please Catherine, save my son.”

These were the last words she uttered before Mary Stuart passed out from the pain.

The sun was rising when loud cries of a newborn rang throughout the castle. Catherine went to the nursery while Greer and Kenna stayed with Mary. She had spent most of her labors in partial lucidity and lost so much blood that she needed the rest. It was lucky that Lola wasn’t present for the birth, for she was already so scared of the birthing bed, no sense in traumatizing her.

By evening, the heirs were returned to their sleeping mother after being looked at by the physicians. Being six weeks premature, the babies were tiny and weak, while Catherine was assured that they had every chance to live she worried. A part of her felt guilty for attacking Mary in her delicate condition and she decided to keep her actions a secret, no one needed to know of the events that unfolded.

When Mary finally woke up, it was midnight and only Kenna was at her side. She was rocking the bassinet next to the bed when she noticed her Queen awakening from her slumber. Kenna had someone inform Catherine and turned to her friend. She helped Mary sit up and sip some cool wine to sooth her parched throat.

“My son… Kenna where is my son?”

Mary croaked in her hoarse voice. Kenna smiled, she picked up the dark-haired babe and handed him to his mother.

“Your firstborn.”

“James!”

Mary breathed through tears and cradled her boy in her arms, her fingers caressed his face while her eyes drank him in. She was so absorbed in her baby that she didn’t notice when Kenna bent down to pick another baby from the bassinet. This one had small tufts of blonde hair like Francis.

“Mary, meet your second son.”

“Oh God! I wasn’t expecting twins.”

The new mother shifted to hold both her boys in her arms, she beamed at her second born. She knew that mothers shouldn’t have favorites, but a part of her knew that her second son would be special. James was Francis’s heir, but this beautiful boy was hers, the Duke of Rothesay; Crown Prince of Scotland. She ran a finger over his golden curls and he opened his eyes; his father’s eyes.

“Hello little love, what a wonderful secret you have kept from us. What should we name you?”

Mary had chosen the name for James, maybe Francis should name their second son. She closed her eyes and prayed for his safe return, her soul reaching for its other half miles away.

Hurry back my love, your family is waiting for you.

Chapter Text

Francis beamed at his fellow soldiers as they rode on, the high walls of Chateau de Fontainebleau getting nearer in the distance. It was the prince’s first taste of true battle and while he didn’t care much for the bloodshed, the brotherhood of fighting together for survival was something to revere. He even found a companion in Leith Bayard; a kitchen boy who was in love with Lady Greer of all people. Such a small world it was that Francis would encounter someone so close to him on the battlefield.

They soon approached the castle and he heard the crowd chanting his name. He nudged his horse forward, just a few more moments and he would be united with his family. The King and Queen of France stood at the platform to greet the army, his mother was clearly relieved to see him. Francis saw no sign of his wife when he steeped down from his horse to address the crowd.

“For two hundred years! The English occupied our port city of Calais, but no longer. Calais is ours once again! And I am proud to say that I fought alongside the bravest men in Europe.”

Across the courtyard Francis’s eyes finally spotted his Queen. Mary was wearing a black gown decorated with shimmering crystals, her ladies holding her hands in support. His speech paused and he made his way to her; after many weeks apart he’d forgotten how beautiful his wife was, how she took his breath away.

Mary rushed into her husband’s arms and smiled at the way he wasted no time in pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. His hands cupped her cheeks, the long earrings she always wore tickling his skin and his wife reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair; pulling him closer to her. Neither cared if their display was improper or if the nobles would talk. After so long without feeling the other’s warmth, all they wanted was to run to their bedchambers and spend hours making love.

“Mary.”

“Francis! You came back to me, you came back.”

“I missed you every day.”

Francis’s hands slipped down to hold her waist when he felt its trimness, his head snapped up in surprise.

“You’re no longer pregnant!”

Mary’s smile widened as she opened her mouth to respond. The spell of their moment was broken at the news of Mary Tudor’s death and that she named her sister Elizabeth as her successor.

“We will take the time to relish in our victories, knowing that one day England will be ours; crushed and then reborn under its rightful Queen. Mary Stuart!”

King Henry’s proclamation resulted in a frenzy of excitement throughout the court. Francis and Mary looked towards each other in apprehension. Things were only going to get more challenging from now.

It was a while before Mary and Francis could excuse themselves from the meeting with the King and Queen. Henry had only stopped his pestering about England when Mary literally swayed on her feet. Barely a day had gone by since the birth and with all the blood she had lost, Mary should still be in bed but she was too eager to greet her husband. They returned to their chambers and the door had just closed when Mary pulled Francis down for a kiss, her mouth opening to his as she pushed him against the door.

“I thought… you needed rest…”

“I do.”

They pulled apart and Mary led her husband to the twin cots next to their bed.

“My love, meet your sons.”

Francis’s eyebrows shot up but he opened his arms to welcome the dark-haired baby boy with a brilliant smile.

“This is James Henry, our eldest.”

The next Dauphin of France, it seemed that God granted his wish because James had his mother’s dark coloring. Holding James for the first time made Francis understand his father even less. How could he ever keep a distance from his son and heir? Even now, Francis could feel the love for this child overwhelm him and knew that he would do anything to keep him safe and happy. The spell was broken when Mary took the baby from him, only to hand Francis his younger son. The Crown Prince of Scotland had his father’s curls and his mother’s button nose.

“All this time, you were carrying twins, no wonder their kicking never stopped.”

The new parents laughed softly; their voices lowered to whispers for the sleeping babies. Francis returned his attention to his son and asked Mary what his name was.

“I wanted you to name him, since I chose James.”

“It should be something strong; what about Edward?”

“An English name?”

“If all goes according to Father’s plan, he will be King of England and Scotland one day.”

“Don’t mention him right now Francis.”

He smiled sheepishly at the stern scolding.

“Prince Edward Alexander of House Stuart-Valois.”

The Dauphin of France declared, as if recognizing his name, the baby opened his eyes and kicked his leg free of his swaddle. Mary brought James closer so that Edward could reach him, even at such a small age, the two brothers would fuss if they were parted.

“And Prince James Henry of House Stuart-Valois.”

Francis leaned in to kiss his wife’s smile and then rested his forehead on hers.

“I love you, Mary Stuart”

“And I love you, Francis Valois.”

Chapter Text

The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the skyline in shades of gold and magenta. While French Court was a flurry of activity, the same couldn’t be said in the chambers of Mary and Francis. After such a grueling battle for both husband and wife, they took some time to rest. The new parents were curled around their newborns protectively on their massive bed and slept soundly. The baby boys woke up soon and cooed, the brothers deep in conversation unaware of the weight their tiny shoulders carried. James and Edward were the future of two nations yet were only days old.

The wiggling around of the babes woke their mother. Her warm hazel eyes brighten when she noticed both her boys looking at her, while Edward had light eyes like his father, James shared his mother’s eye colour. Mary sat up and picked up James first; the tightening of her bodice indicated their nursing time and she wanted to feed her hungry babies before they began fussing and woke their snoozing father.

That was the image that Francis opened his eyes to; his radiant wife nursing their suckling boys. While he was aware that most noble ladies preferred wet-nurses for their heirs, it pleased a primal part of him to see Mary opt out of the practice. His own mother had nursed all her children herself even when she was ridiculed for it. Francis shifted himself to lean on his elbow and reached forward to caress the downy hair on Edward’s hair.

“They are so beautiful, aren’t they?”

A soft sniffle broke through the blissful silence prompting Francis to meet Mary’s teary gaze. He gently wiped away her tears, concern etched on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I want to give you the crown matrimonial.”

“What?!”

He shot up straight, the movement jostling the bedframe, eyes bright in alarm.

“It’s just… the birth was long and difficult, there was a time when no one knew if I would survive or if the babies would make it out in time.”

“Mary…”

“And all I could think of was the last time I saw you, how angry I was. I didn’t want to die; I didn’t want to leave you.”

Francis held her face in his hands, a desperate firmness to his grip that should have felt painful but only grounded her, a reminder that they were here together; alive and well.

“Stop talking like this! You are fine and you’re not going anywhere. Stop planning for a future without you.”

Mary brought one of his hands to her lips.

“But I have to think about it. If I die, my crown will pass to my infant son. My mother has lost her power and I can’t trust James or his Protestant lords anymore. There is no one to protect my legacy in Scotland, but you can! I trust you to rule my nation the way I would want to.”

“I hate talking like this”

“I do too, but if I lay claim to England as your father wants then my life will be even more a risk. I need to know that should the worst happen; you will protect my country and our son’s crown.”

Francis pursed his lips in deep thought, contemplating the future that his wife spoke of. While the thought of her death was akin to a knife in the heart, he was also guilty of making similar arrangements. He wasn’t sure how much time his father had but he knew that should he die prematurely; James would be crowned King of France. He needed a Regent, and Mary needed protection; no matter how badly Catherine wanted the role, Francis would make sure that the Queen Mother is Regent should James become King before his time.

“I just can’t believe you are suggesting this after all your opposition to the secret clause in our marriage contract.”

“That was a betrayal by our parents, this is my decision. I want you to be my King, my equal in every way.”

Francis held her free hand to place a kiss to her knuckles.

“Just as you are mine. Alright then; I accept your proposal and I vow to remain steadfast in my duty towards both my nations.”

Mary smiled softly and lowered her gaze to her now sleeping babies. She adjusted the bodice of her dress while smirking at the lustful haze in her husband’s eyes; while they were both eager to reignite their passion for one another, she was still healing from the birth and any lovemaking will have to wait. Francis picked up the boys from their mother’s arms and stood up to take them to their cots. It was time for them to get up and rejoin court, his father was surely eager to learn of their decision regarding England.

“Francis?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think Henry will do if I refuse to stake my claim?”

“In his state of mind? I can’t be sure. Are you seriously considering giving up your birthright? Elizabeth is most vulnerable to your claim now, before her coronation, father will want you to take advantage of this brief period.”

Mary got up from the bed too, she moved to her vanity and began to comb through her tangled locks.

“If I make myself my cousin’s enemy, we will both be at war for the rest of our lives. I will be content with what we have, I just want peace Francis. I want us to love each other and our family. I do not wish for bloodshed.”

Francis extracted his finger from James’s tight grip and crossed the room to stand behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders in support.

“If you don’t want to claim England then it is your decision, you are the Queen of Scotland, you are stronger than you think.”

“And you will support me?”

“I will always be at your side; you can count on me as I count on you.”

Their eyes met in the reflection of the vanity mirror, Francis’s support always meant the world to her and she felt taller at his admission.

“You’re right, I am Scotland. I will not be a pawn for the Vatican or any King. I will do what is right for my country.”

Mary stood up with a new vigor and met Francis’s proud beam with her own. It was time to write her cousin a letter.

The door slammed shut behind her as Mary stormed out of her uncle’s chambers. Her anger and frustration visible by everyone she passed in the corridor and they gave her a wide berth. The duke of Guise was right and his logic pointed out her worst fears. She wanted to give her children a better life than the one she had but it seemed impossible; her royal blood will always make her a target and now her sons would be in danger because of it too. Her claim to England was her only card and while she was mother to the Dauphin’s heirs, she was not Queen of France. Henry had all the power and, in his madness, Lord knows how he will react to her refusal.

As if one disappointment wasn’t enough, the pit in her stomach grew with anxiety when Francis asked her to meet him in the cellars of all places. Catherine and Francis were arguing when she arrived, her husband stomped off to the side while Catherine explained Henry’s plan to invade England in a week. The King had dismissed all his advisors and was mobilizing troops for a war with the English immediately.

“But we don’t have the means, if France attacks England…”

“We will be slaughtered!”

Francis cried. He tried to convince the two Queens that they must make Henry see reason but it seemed that he was the only one not prepared to shed blood.

“You want to kill him? Murder the King of France! He is unwell and needs treatment, not to be put down like a rabid dog.”

Catherine observed the fury in her son and for a moment she caught a glimpse of Henry in his crystal eyes.

“Don’t be sentimental about a father who never cared about you.”

Francis scoffed at his mother’s words in a dismissive manner.

“I am not a child Mother. This is not about my feelings; you are planning regicide. This could cost us all our heads!”

Sensing the fight that was about to break out between mother and son, Mary stepped in to address her husband.

“What do you suggest we do?”

“We have said that he’s being poisoned here at the castle, let me take him away… on a hunt or somewhere else.”

“A hunting trip? That’s your solution?”

Catherine sneered.

“I want one last chance to reach him before we contemplate treason!”

Catherine was ready to refuse but Mary cut her off, telling Francis to do whatever he wanted quickly as they were running out of time. The Dauphin nodded at his wife and departed the cellar, leaving the two Queens to talk alone.

“You shouldn’t have agreed. We don’t have time to waste, we need to take the risk.”

“Catherine I can’t! I would be defying my husband; I can’t kill his father behind his back,”

“My husband! The father of my children. I would be killing him and handing my crown to you the moment Henry is dead.”

Mary took a step back and shook her head, this was wrong. Just this evening, her and Francis made a vow to stand by one another and be true partners. She couldn't disregard his wishes, especially when they came from a position of such reason. Catherine saw the hesitation in Mary and pulled the only card that she knew would always work on her now. Mary was no longer just a wife or a Queen; she was a mother.

“Make no mistake my dear, Henry’s greed for England will kill us all. Every member of the Royal Family will be dead when we inevitably lose; including your precious sons.”

The Queen of Scots straightened her spine and faced her mother-in-law, eyes flashing in uncontrolled rage.

“I will bathe the world in blood before I allow even a single touch to harm my children!”

She hissed, prompting a triumphant smile on Catherine’s lips. They were finally in agreement about how to deal with their mad King.

Henry Valois must die.

Chapter Text

The situation at French Court was more dangerous than ever. After the failed assassination attempt on his life; King Henry was more volatile and paranoid than before. When he assembled everyone to the courtyard and killed an innocent man, not a single person could deny that their King had gone mad. The Dauphin of France; Prince Francis, looked at the display with only one thing in mind, his father could no longer be allowed to rule.

“We can’t take any action against him now, he’s practically untouchable!”

Catherine de Medici cried out in vexation while pacing the length of her chambers. Her son was by the window trying to find another solution and his wife at his side. Francis did not hold much love for his father but he did respect him and believed him to be a great ruler. Now it seemed his father was disappointing him every day.

“You’re right, an assassination is out of the question. He has to be removed by a superior force.”

Catherine’s head snapped to him at the insinuation.

“A coup? It’s a dangerous scheme, putting power in the hands of the military is risky whether we win or lose.”

“Mother we don’t have a better option. But it would be challenging to get them to support me instead of Father. I can’t promise them anything that he can’t give as well.”

Mary turned to Francis and squeezed his arm in support.

“Henry dismissed many powerful generals before Calais, surely they feel betrayed by their King…”

“…and we can sway them to our side.”

Francis finished his wife’s thought with a spark in his eyes. This might actually work.

“And what will happen to Henry?”

Catherine asked.

“He will be imprisoned in the care of the best doctors in the world. Either he will become well enough to be a part of his family’s life or will die a natural death but the result is the same; he will never be King again.”

Francis explained and then held his hand out to Mary, which she immediately covered with her own.

“You will rule beside me.”

Once the plan was decided on, the occupants of the room went to attend to their duties. Francis got ready to meet with the generals, bidding his infant sons goodbye. He was walking with his wife to the stables when their conversation was interrupted by his parents in the hallway.

“Ah Mary, I am so glad to see you. I have arranged the display of a mock battle to show the strength of France. A naval spectacle!”

Mary observed the glint in the King’s eyes in apprehension and had to resist the urge to step away.

“A spectacle, your Grace?”

“Yes, and you are the guest of honor.”

“Me?”

Catherine grimaced at the younger couple.

“I’m afraid Henry insists, my dear.”

Henry’s eyes shifted from Mary to Francis and frowned when he noticed his riding leathers.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes, I am checking in on the injured soldiers.”

“But you will be back for the feast, right?”

 Francis reassured his father with narrowed eyes but left anyways, he was so hasty in his departure that he failed to see how eager Henry was to escort the Queen of Scots to the festivities.

It was only after the disastrous naval spectacle that Catherine and Mary realized their mad King’s plan. Why he was so attentive to her, fawning over her in front of all his court.

“When he had his greedy hands at you, he had his hands on England Mary.”

Catherine sneered in disgust.

“But he can’t really believe that Francis and I would agree to an annulment, the Pope would never grant it, we have children!”

It dawned on both women at the same time what Henry planned on doing.

“No… even he wouldn’t go that far…”

“He’s going to kill my husband, his own son!”

It was that moment that Mary understood Catherine’s reasons for such brutal actions. Faced with the danger to her family and her reign, she knew that she would do anything, make any sacrifice necessary to protect the people she loved. Henry needed to be put down before he ruined everything. She needed to do something extraordinary to ensure that France supports Francis’s claim to the throne and the coup succeeds in their favor.

The Duke of Guise was right; her birthright was her only card to play. The promise of England and a brighter France would be the cause they needed to rally support. It was with those thoughts that Mary had Greer dress her in a red gown, the gold lion pressed on the night before the jousting tournament. And when Mary walked down wearing the English Crest, she knew what she was doing. If saving her husband and his country meant that she had to declare war on her cousin, then she would gladly arm herself and point a sword at the new Queen of England.

How you’ve changed since you came back to us from convent. I miss the girl you were.

Many will; she was easier to kill.

The King is dead!

Long Live the King!

His heart was pounding, blood rushing to his ears and his entire body shaking badly. Francis rushed out of his father’s rooms blindly; all around him men were kneeling but his haze didn’t register any of it. On his deathbed, his father admitted to killing his older brother, driving a stake into his already bleeding heart. Francis didn’t want to kill his father; no matter how horrible he was, the man was his King and he was a loyal son. Seeing Henry openly seducing his wife brought a bloodlust in him that Francis himself feared; he knew in that moment that he had to protect his family and his country, no matter the cost.

Francis stopped short in his tracks when he saw Bash walking towards him; for a moment the two brothers merely paused to look at one another. They both held the same mixture of relief and grief at the death of their father. The new King of France noticed how his brother was beginning to kneel and his body snapped into action, sprinting to stop his big brother and embracing him instead. Many men will kneel to him from this day forth but not Bash, he would not let his brother be anything but his best friend and his greatest protector. Francis and Bash held onto each other tightly, neither of them ready to let go of the other.

It was past dawn when Francis left the Privy Council Chambers; he was with his father’s advisors and nobles all night. He made his way to his rooms and could physically feel the weight of his new crown.  When he entered Mary was rocking a crying Edward to sleep, singing a Gaelic lullaby in her sweet voice to calm the baby. Francis felt some of his tension lift at the sight of his family and he walked over to the pair of cribs by their window. The newborns were so small that neither of the parents had the heart to send them away to the royal nursery. Francis picked up his sleeping son from his nest of blankets and joined his wife by the window, he inhaled the scent of his baby boy and kissed the top of his head.

“He is the Dauphin now.”

Francis whispered and Mary leaned on his shoulder with a hum.

“And you are the King of France.”

“Yes…”

“I hate how it happened. Resenting my father, fearing him at the end. I saw what he did to the heroes of Calais, I saw how he touched you and I wanted to break his hands for it.”

Mary lifted her head to look up at him in surprise.

“You were at the tournament?”

“I was.”

She gave her husband a forlorn smile and kissed his neck to comfort him.

“I wish this loss didn’t burden you so much but it was God’s will. Henry’s death was out of our hands.”

At her words, Francis averted his eyes and knew that he couldn’t keep this secret. He didn’t want to burden her with his brutal choices but she was his Queen and deserved to know the truth.

“Actually, that’s not the truth.”

Francis turned to the boys’ cot and laid his son down, then he took a now snoring Edward from his mother’s arms to place him beside his twin. This conversation needed to be had without their babies in their arms, he had no wish to taint his precious boys with his sins.

“Francis, you can’t blame yourself! It was a jousting accident…”

“It was me!”

Francis blurted out, cutting off Mary in mid-sentence. The new Queen of France stared at her husband and the horror in his eyes.

“What?”

She gasped.

“I took Montgomery’s place in the joust and purposefully struck Henry in his eye.”

Francis’s words were harsh but his voice lowered as to prevent it from leaving the room. Mary covered her mouth as her eyes widened, she rushed to take him in her arms before he dropped to the floor to his knees.

“I know that I have taken a huge risk but Mary… I had to. He was going to destroy everything we hold dear. I had to kill him.”

He buried his face in her neck and cried; tears leaving her skin wet but Mary only tightened her grip on him. She held his face in her hands so she could look into his eyes, her palms lightly caressing his damp cheeks.

“Look at me darling and hear me now; you did the right thing. Henry was planning on poisoning you at the feast; he wanted you dead and wanted me as his wife.”

Francis pulled back from her embrace, his eyes searching hers for any deception because even his mad father wouldn’t have planned something so wicked.

“Why would he marry you?”

“His lust for England turned into his lust for me. Francis the way he touched me made my skin crawl.”

A fiery rage burned through him at the fear on his wife’s face, Francis wanted to bring his father back from the depths of hell to kill him again. Every reservation that he held over his actions vanished the second Mary told him of Henry’s plans.

“Will we always have to make the terrible decisions?”

Francis asked his wife.

“I think that’s part of being rulers. Every single choice I make takes me further away from the girl I was. Even today when I openly declared war on Elizabeth, I could feel my heart grow harder.”

Mary held Francis’s hand and placed it over her chest, his other hand coming to rest on her cheek in affection.

“Somehow, it’s always the woman that has to bow to the Queen. I’m scared that someday my heart will go blind and deaf, that these brutal choices will become easier to make. And I wonder if you’ll stop loving me for it.”

“Mary, no matter what happens. I will never stop loving you, I promise.”

“Even when ruling changes us?”

Francis pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin.

“We won’t let it; if we vow to be true to one another. Tell me your darkest truths and I will tell you mine, so we never have to feel alone in our marriage.”  

Mary untangled herself from him when their moment was broken by a knock at their door. It was a message from Lady Lola; Lord Julien was dead and she was giving birth in a house near the mills. Lola was asking for their help and she was afraid that neither her or the child would make it. Even though her friendship became strained, Mary couldn’t let her lady die. Lola came to France under her protection and more than that, her child was her husband’s and Mary did feel a sense of responsibility for the babe. She read the letter out loud and saw Francis lose color in worry.

“You should go to her, if she doesn’t survive you must be there to bring the child home.”

Francis was now leaning on their desk; shadows could be seen under his stormy eyes from sheer exhaustion. He looked older than his seventeen years, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Mary’s brows furrowed in confusion and she cried out.

“What do you mean you can’t? Lola is giving birth to your child! Be there when the baby comes into the world.”

“I killed my father, Mary! Every person in this castle is loyal to Henry, out of fear or reverence. The next few days are crucial to my reign, to our reign.”

Francis paced their chambers and was running his hands through his already messy hair.

“I need to be seen by my nobility as a loyal son, grieving his father. I need to be unassailable, so no one has any cause to dig around for hidden truths. I also have to deal with the evidence of my actions.”

“Francis, I understand I do but Lola might die.”

The King stopped in front of his wife to clutch both her hands in his own.

“I will send for reinforcements, doctors and guards to help her and bring her back to the castle but I cannot be seen riding off only to return with my bastard child.”

It had taken a lot of effort by him to shed his reputation of a spoilt and womanizing young prince. Francis had always put duty above all else, even if he did engage in the benefits that came with his station but now things were different. He was the King of France, wedded to a Queen and a father; he needed his people to take him seriously. None of which will happen if he leaves and returns to court with Lola and her child, people will assume that she was his mistress.

Mary felt a rush of equal parts pride and desire at his behavior. His devotion to his country were one of her favorite aspects of his character, something that made them so well-matched because they understood the pressures of ruling and the sacrifices that came with their position. Mary bent down in a bow in front of her husband, she brought their joined hands to her lips and placed a kiss on his signet ring; a gesture of love, respect and fealty. Francis felt his eyes watering at her actions and his chin lowered, humbled by his love for his wife.

“I will support you in whatever decision you make… my King.”

Chapter Text

The new King’s decision to remain in his castle proved to be wiser than even he had expected. For hours later; news spread of the plague returning to France. The entire Chateau de Fontainebleau was locked down and sealed; no one could leave or enter.  Such a deadly start to the reign of King Francis II was a talk among most courtiers as they feared for their life, however it brought them a sense of security to be able to see their new monarch personally seeing to arrangements. The involvement of the King and Queen in the preparations to battle such a contagious illness endeared many nobles to the new rulers.

Catherine de Medici was equal parts proud and disgruntled by the way her son and his wife were stepping into their role. While she was thrilled to see her son coming into his role as the King he was born to be, she had spent so many years being the Queen of France that it was unbearable to see someone else in that role, someone else sitting on a throne that was hers merely day ago. While all the royal children were quarantined in the King’s chambers, Catherine insisted on staying with Francis and Mary to help them in conducting court business.

The King and Queen sat atop their thrones, with the Queen Mother at their side as they received news regarding the plague outside the castle walls. Fires were burning everywhere in the room to clear the air, removing any possibility of an infection. Nostradamus walked into the throne room as summoned by his King.

“Nostradamus, you mentioned to my brother that you held immunity to the plague. As such, the Queen and I have an important task for you.”

Mary then went on to explain where Lola was and the delicacy of her situation, her health was in a critical state and Nostradamus was the most experienced healer at court. With the castle at lockdown, the other physicians could handle any plague victims until he returned. The midwife they sent with guards had yet to return and both Mary and Francis were worried. Catherine observed their expressions with a hawk’s eye and waited for the room to clear before speaking.

“You both have a lot of concern for Lady Lola and her child.”

“Mother!”

Francis warned her. If her son’s glare wasn’t enough confirmation, the way Mary lowered her eyes and pursed her lips told her all she needed to know. Catherine gave her son a look of disappointment before turning to his wife.

“Not even a year into your marriage! You have my sympathies, dear Mary”

“I’d like your silence more.”

Catherine swallowed back the retort but the look of pity that she gave her daughter-in-law didn’t help either. Moments later, the guards announced Lord Edward Narcisse and a dashing noble strode into the room like it was his very own. Even the way he bowed to his King had arrogance written all over it.

“Lord Edward, how may we help you?”

Francis asked; while the man was not one of his favorite nobles, his father was very powerful and the last thing he needed was to alienate him.

“With the death count mounting up…the nobles are living as if its their last day… how many are dead exactly?”

“Fourteen so far.”

“On our first day of contagion? Tell me your majesty, do you count the peasants too?”

The snarky tone grated at Mary and she snapped.

“We count every life lost. Now what do you want?”

“To add another to the pile, it’s crude but my I need to strike while my enemy is accessible.”

Mary and Francis shared a concerned glance before he asked the Lord to elaborate. Apparently, Edward’s new wife was being bedded by Piere Valon and the two men’s fathers did business together so he couldn’t strike outright. He wanted vengeance without the repercussions of angering his father.

“Throw him into the mass holding cells and say he died of plague.”

“You come here and blatantly request that we murder your foe?”

Mary cried incredulously, Edward turned to look at his King, ignoring the Queen Consort completely.

“I have no doubt that you will agree to my demands, your grace.”

“And why would I do that?”

Francis raised an eyebrow at the man’s impunity.

“Because my family provides this region with meat and grain, the castle depends on the weekly deliveries that only happen when I signal that I have been paid. If I don’t cooperate then all the nobles hiding here at court will come for your throats.”

Francis slowly stood from his throne, hand at the pommel of his sword.

“Edward Narcisse, are you threatening your King?”

“I would never attempt such treasonous actions.”

“Very well then, give me time to make the proper arrangements. It will be done.”

The noble man bowed in gratitude, this time his actions were not mocking but truly respectful and Francis smirked in return. As soon as he left, Mary stood up and turned to face her husband to demand answers for his terrible decision.

“Francis how could you give in to his demands? He wants us to murder an innocent man.”

“Perhaps my son, the King realized that he is dependent on his nobles’ support.”

Catherine jumped in to taunt the naïve Queen. She had been observing silently the whole time intending to interrupt when needed but her golden boy handled it all with perfection, even if Mary’s outbursts drove her mad.

“The King understood that he would not be threatened or fooled. I know how Edward thinks, he is satisfied with himself and won’t return to us for a while. I have bought us time to get to the truth of the matter.”

Mary and Catherine both looked shocked at his cunning strategy, honestly sometimes the way his mother underestimated him was silly. He was half Medici and half Valois, just because he was a decent human didn’t mean that he was a fool.

“What do you mean? What truth?”

Catherine asked.

“Edward doesn’t have a wife, at least not yet. He has been bragging to his peers about his engagement to a foreign archduchess for weeks. Whatever animosity he has with Valon has nothing to do with petty jealousy.”

Contrary to what people may think, men chatted amongst cards and drinking. While Francis himself might not be partaking much, he did have friends who were eager to share all the latest gossip.

“Then what exactly do you plan to do?”

Mary was impressed by her husband’s cunning display but she was also apprehensive about any clapback from the elder Lord Narcisse.

“I plan on writing Stephane Narcisse a letter, congratulating him on his son’s marriage and inviting him to court to be my advisor. We need to know if Edward is working behind his father’s back or not.”

Whatever happened between the Narcisses and the Valons had to be uncovered before Francis made any real decision, his reign will be just and tolerant. He and Mary will not bow down to the nobles as his parents had done, they will find another way.

When Nostradamus returned with the news that Lola and her baby was nowhere to be found Francis felt the guilt trickling in at his decision to stay at court. When he told them that the hut was exposed to the plague, they feared the worst had happened. Mary told everyone to leave, including Catherine, and moved to her husband. She curled into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck to console him.

“I can’t help but feel responsible for her death, for the baby she carried.”

“Francis no, it is not your fault. I shouldn’t have been so cruel to her; I was so angry and now my need to keep her away has become her end.”

They stayed that way for a while, wrapped around each other and silently mourning what could’ve been. Mary slowly untangled herself and held out a hand to her husband, lifting him from his throne. It was late into the night and it was about time that they retired to their chambers with their children. On the way, Mary could see Francis practically swaying on his feet and she tightened her grip on him.

“Francis! When was the last time you slept?”

He closed his eyes to think back on the last time he got time to rest and sheepishly admitted to his wife.

“The night before my father died.”

Two days ago, the day after he returned from weeks long war. No wonder he looked so tired.

“Francis! You cannot compromise your health like that.”

“There has been so much to do, I didn’t have the time or luxury to sleep.”

“Well you will be making up for it now, we cannot afford you to catch an illness right now.”

Mary tucked him into bed while he grumbled at being treated like his infant sons. She had the staff bring him some tea and slipped in a few drops of her sleeping tonics that the midwives gave her. The Queen of France kissed her husband as he drifted off and promised to handle things without him for the time he needed to rest; for a tired King made for a weak King.

Hours later when Mary learnt of the way Edward Narcisse poisoned the entire Valon household, she regretted drugging her husband to sleep. The noble man had killed women and children with no remorse and even threatened them with withholding food after the crops in their region burnt to crisp. She couldn’t even close her eyes or she would start recalling the bodies in those quarters; men, women and children heartlessly killed. The plague brought so much death to their people and here was a man who added to the deaths to serve himself, the injustice of it all made her want to scream. She made her decision then and there; Edward would pay in the same way he wanted to kill his enemy. She just hoped that Francis would understand her decision, or at the very least forgive her for it.

Mary Stuart, Queen of Scotland and France, faced the ruthless man with rage set into her features.

“Throw him in the dungeons with the other plague victims.”

“What will you hope to achieve from this?”

Edward sneered.

“Justice.”

As her guards dragged him away, he thrashed and screamed threats.

“My father will make you pay for this!”

He vowed but the Queen only scoffed in response.

“No, he won’t… because he will never find you.”

Chapter Text

Lola Flemming was having a very rough week as of late. It started with her husband being a lying nobody and ended with her carriage breaking down on her way to the castle; forcing her to give birth in a hut with no midwife in sight. It was only after her son was born did the team from court managed to find her. A healer and two guards who escorted her to safety when the village got hit with the deadly plague. Lola was thirsty and tired; her baby wouldn’t stop screaming from hunger and her milk wouldn’t come in. She asked the healer to find her a source of water and they stopped the now repaired carriage near a stream.

Lola was just about to leave the carriage when they heard the rustling of trees, the guards accompanying her unsheathed their swords to prepare for the attack. They were approached by a group of men in hunting gear, they were led by a handsome man of copper skin and hair the color of bark, he had kind eyes and Lola stepped out with her child to meet him in hopes that he would help her.

“What is a lady doing in the forest alone?”

He asked; his tone of voice immediately pointed him as a noble man and Lola could see her chances getting better.

“I was on my way to the castle when my carriage broke down, I serve the Queen.”

The man’s warm brown eyes crinkled as he smiled at her reassuringly.

“Well, my men and I are here to escape the plague but we can escort you through a clear path. I am Prince Louis of Conde, cousin to the new King.”

A prince; Lola didn’t know what came over her in that moment but when she heard of his relation to Francis, she knew that she had to ensure that she made herself seem important or he might not help her fast enough.

“An honor, your highness. I am Lady Lola Flemming, the King’s mistress.”

The Prince’s eyebrows shot up at the admission and for the first time his gaze shifted to the babe in the lady’s arms, the newborn was wrapped up in a sheet but even then he could see the tufts of blonde curls, the same color as King Francis II, it seemed the son was not unlike his father.

“Well then, I guess we shall take good care of our esteemed guest.”

The next day, their party departed for French Court. Louis didn’t believe Lady Lola’s words at first; all of France knew about the great love between the King and Queen, musicians had composed many ballads in their honor during the first year of their marriage. After the announcement of the birth of two princes, it became even more clear to the people that the marriage alliance was a success so why would the King have a mistress or a bastard?

When they did reach the castle, there was a small welcoming party at the courtyard with the King and Queen present. Queen Mary openly embraced her lady and held the baby into her arms, she brought the babe to her husband so he could see.

“Oh Francis, a baby boy, James and Edward would have a playmate.”

The strange expression on the King’s face confirmed to Louis that the boy in his Queen’s arms was his bastard son, and that the King’s mistress was none other than his wife’s lady. He would not be the only person to doubt the King’s sanity, for Mary was a radiant and beautiful woman, how could any man stray from that?

When his cousin invited him to stay at court for a while, Louis readily agreed. Perhaps Antoine was right and he should determine the kind of ruler that Francis Valois would make.

“I don’t know what to do with the baby.”

Francis was seated at his desk, going through the arrangements for the famine following the plague and his coronation. France was in need of severe repairs following the devastation and yet the pressing matter was that of Lola’s child, already the whispers have started.

Mary stood up from her perch on the window seat and walked over to lean on the desk.

“We knew that Lola’s child would be a complication and now with her husband dead, his parentage will be put into question.”

“He’s my son, I feel a responsibility to him, no son should grow up without a father.”

His wife observed his expression; the locked jaw, the determined eyes and knew what he wanted to do.

“No, absolutely not! You can spend time with him but you cannot claim him.”

“Not publicly, you mean.”

Mary hardened herself against the hurt in his eyes and moved closer to hold his hands tightly.

“Listen to me, James and Edward were born merely days before this child. If you claim him and say that it was a premarital indiscretion then people will doubt the legitimacy of our children too. Francis our heirs can never be considered illegitimate, it would be our downfall.”

This situation was more serious than his duty to his bastard son, it involved the safety of his wife and Queen. Francis leaned back to rest his head against his chair, deep in thought.

“And if people believe that he was conceived after our marriage, I will have cheated on my wife.”

“Yes, and I will be humiliated, known as the Queen who couldn’t keep her husband’s interest for more than a fortnight.”

Francis pulled at their hands to maneuver his wife closer to him, she leaned into him and welcomed his kiss with a smile. She was glad that they had come to an agreement about their special predicament. Mary removed his coat to reveal his tunic and helped him out of that too. She pulled away to place small kissed on his neck and moving down to his bare chest, lavishing extra attention to his sensitive skin. Enough time passed since her labors and she was eager to resume their marital relations.

Just as Francis had successfully removed her outer dress, the door to their chambers slammed open. The Queen Mother stomped inside in fury, she pointed at Mary with her expression twisted into pure loathing.

“You stupid girl! Your actions will cost us everything.”

“Mother! What is the meaning of this?”

Catherine addressed her son and informed him of the arrival of Lord Stephane Narcisse.

“He requests a meeting with you, somehow he figured out that his son didn’t die of plague.”

Mary’s hands came to her lips to muffle her gasp.

“God no!”

“Yes, your actions saved no one and nothing and cost us everything!”

Even Francis was frustrated with her; when he’d woken up from his slumber and learned of Edward’s punishment, he had been terrible angry with her hasty decision. She had just wished to show he husband that he could lean on her during difficult times, that they could shoulder each other’s burdens.

“You should have arrested him Mary, we would have made an example of him, a warning of what defying the crown meant. But now your brutality has made us a very powerful enemy.”

The smug smile on Catherine’s lips was grating on Mary’s nerves and she snapped.

“Then I will take the blame and leave you above reproach. This is my mess and I will clean it up myself.”

Francis stood from his seat and gently squeezed her hand to comfort her, there was no point in fighting about it now. He knew that Mary was faced with a difficult situation and her anger got the better of her, mistakes were made in the heat of the moment and he could forgive her for it.

“No, my love, you have done enough. I think it’s better if I treat with the nobles myself, at least for now.”

Just because she couldn’t directly confront Lord Narcisse didn’t mean that she couldn’t help her husband find evidence against him. Mary searched the quarters of Lord Valon and his family for any clues as to the nature of their animosity. Nostradamus and her guards were paying the price for her decisions and she couldn’t let it happen. She did not get a satisfactory answer from her search and was ready to admit defeat. It was only when she conversed with Lola and she did some digging for her that she got the inspiration and information to turn the tide on their struggle.

With a satisfying smile on her face, she returned to the castle to discuss the plan with Francis. She had finally found the evidence needed to blackmail Narcisse into letting go of Nostradamus and her guards. She would not allow them to face a horrific death such as being drawn and quartered.

Just before Nostradamus was going to be punished, Mary ran in the courtyard to halt the punishment. Prince Louis had volunteered to witness the act in consolidation to the man they both know was innocent. Lord Narcisse turned to the Queen of France with a most displeased frown.

“Even a queen needs grounds to stop a sentence.”

“I found Lord Valon’s journal; he wrote it all down. How you took money from the Church for your own agendas, how you silenced a Cardinal when he was about to inform on you. Before coming to the castle, he wrote a confession letter fearing that you would have him killed to tie up loose ends.”

“This is preposterous!”

“I have sent those messages to your friends in Rome. To assure the Vatican that no life, especially not one of their own could be taken with such impunity!”

The vein in Narcisse’s forehead was raised and his fists clenched when he spat at Mary.

“You just lost France for you and your king.”

Mary raised her chin in defiance and even Prince Louis was enjoying her dressing down of the arrogant noble. It was all going well until Francis strode into the courtyard with her messages in his hands.

“You intercepted my riders.”

“I thought I made it clear that you were not to interfere with the proceedings, leave us. You as well Conde.”

Francis motioned to his cousin with his dismissal.

“Francis you don’t have to bow down to him, I am your Queen…”

“Queen Consort.”

He interrupted.

“You owe me an explanation; you owe your subjects justice.”

“Mary, return to our chambers, where private discussions between husbands and wives take place.”

The Queen glared at her husband and squared herself against him.

“I am not just your wife…”

“You are not King, either!”          

With a disappointed huff, the Queen of Scotland and France stormed out, the Prince of Conde at her heels.

She was heading towards the King’s study when she was stopped by the Prince.

“Are you alright, your grace? He shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“I am grateful for your support with all this today, my lord.”

“I stand with justice and Narcisse is nothing but an ambitious liar. I tried to warn the King but he seemed to be folding to him.”

Mary sensed that Conde’s anger with her husband was less about his decision to side with Narcisse and more about his treatment of her. While she was flattered that he was indignant on her behalf, she couldn’t let him hold a low opinion of Francis.

“Francis is my husband and my King; his decisions are always for the good of his people. I trust him to do the right thing.”

“But he doesn’t respect you, I have noticed it today and even before; when I learned about his bastard.”

Mary’s eyes hardened at the words and she leaned in to whisper.

“Prince Louis, your dedication to the Crown will not be forgotten, but your words are out of line. I will not stand for any judgement against Francis’s character.”

“Of course, your majesty; I apologize for overstepping.”

                                                                    ------------------------------------

Narcisse observed the Queen’s retreating figure with a sly smile and turned to his King.

“I always did tell your father to marry you to a commoner, rich of course, but without a title she could lord over us with.”

Francis glared at him at his insult.

“I don’t like you, but your loyalty to France is unmatched.”

“Yes, and you need me to satisfy the nobles.”

Francis wiped off his smug smirk by showing him Lord Valon’s seal on the letters in his hands.

“I intercepted these letters to protect you and in return you will free Nostradamus; he is a favorite of my mother and she will hold you responsible.”

“Ah but what will I tell the nobles? They are out for blood.”

“You riled them up on your behalf, now tell them you are satisfied. Manage them and I will manage my wife.”

Narcisse stepped forward when Francis hovered the letters over a burning brazier.

“I will need more than that if you want this all to go away.”

“I invited you to court to advise me, end this vendetta and you will have a position at my Privy Council.”

The glint in the Lord’s eyes and his satisfaction spoke volumes, which prompted Francis to burn the letters. Narcisse bowed slightly in acknowledgement of his actions.

“I believe we will be good friends, your majesty.”

Mary and Francis were in their chambers, getting ready for the night. They had just put their sons to bed after a lot of fussing and tears, the boys didn’t want to sleep or be put down and Mary was getting frustrated with the babies. She hadn’t slept with her husband in months and after the tension of the day she was really looking forward to the pleasure that only he could provide. Which was why she tackled Francis to the bed when he was done undressing, laughing at the lust in her eyes until her touches turned his chuckles into moans.

Some time later, the couple was cuddled under the blankets when Mary broke the peaceful silence.

“I think you should claim your son, give him your name.”

Francis had almost nodded off when her words jerked him awake.

“Why? You were so adamant that it was a terrible idea and you were right.”

“After my talk with Lola, I realized how difficult things would be for them. And the baby already looks like you, like Edward, the older he gets the more people will see the similarities. I don’t want him to resent you or our children.”

“But people will talk Mary, your reputation…”

Mary shushed her husband and kissed him for being so sweet to worry.

“People will talk anyways, your mother has guessed, even Conde took one look at him and knew. Your name will protect him, even after you are gone. Do right by your son Francis, by my blessing, and our marriage will be stronger for it.”

Francis responded to her by trailing his fingers up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. His other hand was tangled in her raven locks and he hovered over his wife. She responded eagerly to his touches and buried her head into his neck to muffle her gasps. Their reign had just begun and already the challenges were difficult to endure; if every day was going to be as grueling today then Francis would have to make up for it by devoting his evenings and nights to the act of worshipping his Queen.

Chapter Text

The past three weeks were one of the busiest in France. The preparations were being made for the coronation of King Francis II and dignitaries were arriving from around Europe to attend the ceremony. The entire family had already arrived for the christening of Prince James and Prince Edward just days ago. The proud godparents were thrilled with their roles; Prince James Henry had King Philip and Queen Elizabeth of Spain for godparents while Prince Edward Alexander had James Stuart and the newly titled Duchess Kenna de Poitiers. Francis and Mary had agreed to choose their respective heirs’ godparents.

The delegation from Scotland included the Queen Mother, Marie de Guise; the Lord Regent, James Stuart and Lord Bothwell. The new grandmother hadn’t put James down for a moment, even though the younger twin was the Duke of Rothsay, the Scottish dark coloring and his name endeared him to the Scots. The two princes were happily enjoying the attention and a petty part of the Queen of Scots basked in the praise given to her boys when all Lady Lola’s child did was cry. Francis’s bastard son seemed to know that his presence caused contention because the child never quieted or let his mother rest.

At the moment, Francis was in a meeting with his council while his wife and sons enjoyed the sunny day out with their mothers. Catherine and Marie were quite the amusing sight, fighting over the privilege of smothering their grandsons with affection.  Even Mary’s ladies were enamored with the boys, Kenna would tell anyone who would hear that she was godmother to the Crown Prince of Scotland. The Queen of Scots rose from her seat with her ladies to take James from her mother, the little boy was beginning to fuss and it was better to tend to him before he turned from a sweet babe into a monster child.

Marie stood to walk with her daughter back into the castle, she had been waiting for the chance to get her alone for days but the Queen was extremely busy. They fell into step with one another and Mary could instantly tell that her mother wished to talk.

“What is it, Mother?”

“I wanted to discuss your decision to agree to the Crown Matrimonial. Sweet heart, giving your husband the chance to benefit from your death is foolish.”

Mary stopped short at her words and turned to glare at her.

“Do not accuse Francis of such monstrosity, he loves me and has always protected me. His first act as King was to send troops into Scotland to drive out your enemies!”

Marie gave her daughter a forlorn smile and reached forward to run a caressing hand through her hair, with all her talk of leadership sometimes she’d forget that her daughter was still a girl, a girl who was madly in love.

“I worry darling, you made such a fuss when it was first suggested by Henry.”

“Yes, I did! because I didn’t trust Henry or Catherine with my life… but Francis is not his parents Mother, he is devoted to me and to Scotland.”

“His devotion is clear to see, if he wasn’t set on claiming his bastard. Tell me Mary, why is that traitorous whore still alive?”

“Mother! Lola made one mistake and she is paying for it; her family learnt of her indiscretion and have disinherited her. I didn’t want to fan the flames by having my husband’s rumored mistress beheaded.”

Marie scoffed at her daughter.

“Her actions were treasonous and she should be dead. Tell her to stay out of my sight if she wants to live. Remember Mary, Francis’s love for you protects Scotland. Don’t ever do anything to jeopardize that.”

Mary rolled her eyes at the useless lecture and opened the doors to her chambers, grateful that she finally had an excuse to get rid of her mother. She handed her golden baby to his nanny to get cleaned up before readying herself for his feeding, in the past week her sons had finally changed their feeding times so they no longer demanded her attention together, blessing her with some relief.

Marie de Guise rummaged through the chest of extravagant gifts she had brought for her grandsons and procured a leather-bound book with a smirk.

“Darling daughter, I have brought you a gift as well.”

Mary’s curiosity got the better of her and she sat next to her mother after having just changed out of her corset. She carefully accepted the tome and opened it to reveal the first page, displaying some very explicit images. She quickly snapped the book shut with a squeak and glared at her mother.

“What in the devil’s name is this?!”

Marie’s expression resembled the cat who go the cream and she could see that her daughter was close to exploding.

“A little something to help you keep your husband’s attentions…”

“Erotica??”

“I was a Queen too, I know that the act can feel like a chore, this will spice things up, keep his eyes from drifting.”

Mary stood up in indignation, his hands fisted at her sides as she snarled at her mother.

“How dare you slander my husband? Your King!”

Her mother rose to her feet and held her arms, fixing her gaze on her amber eyes.

“Mary, I want you to be secure in your rule here, I want you to be happy.”

“Mother, I am happy, Francis is an honorable man. He will never forsake his vows.”

"I believe you, but I worry."

"Mother, you must trust me. If not as your daughter, then as your Queen." 

The two women exchanged a glance of understanding, Marie pulled in her daughter in an embrace. Moments later the doors opened and Francis entered the chambers, he seemed out of breath, his hair tousled. He observed the mother and daughter duo with some confusion.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all.”

Mary smiled reassuringly at her husband. The Queen Mother of Scotland quietly excused herself to leave them to their discussions. Mary held out her hand to Francis and he clasped them together. He looked like he was in desperate need of a stiff drink, maybe she should suggest Bash to take him on a hunt, they could invite King Philip and James Stuart while they were here. Her husband deserved a break more than anyone.

“What is it, my love?”

“Lord Narcisse has stopped this week’s grain shipment.”

Mary felt the familiar loathing at the name, she wished they could get rid of the man for all the trouble him and his family has caused.

“What for? The coronation is tomorrow, we are hosting international royalty, this is a disaster.”

"I think he is testing me."

Francis admitted with a sigh.

"Testing you? You are his King, not his pupil. What will we do?"

“I have sent for grain from our family lands in Anjou but it won’t arrive fast enough.”

“We will figure something out and when we do, I’ll tighten Narcisse’s leash myself.”

Francis bit his lip at her ferocious tone and pulled her closer, mayhap it was time for a break.

“You know what it does to me when you defend my honor.”

A sly smile spread on Mary’s lips and she leaned close to place a kiss behind his ear before whispering.

“I have something that you’d enjoy even more.”

Perhaps there was nothing wrong with adding some more adventure to their intimacy, after all making heirs was a large part of their royal duty.

Chapter Text

The morning of the Coronation began with a special family breakfast, it was a rare moment for the House of Valois to be together at Fontainebleau and Catherine was determined to invite all of her children. The King of France and King of Spain sat at two heads of the long table with their wives to their left, while Catherine sat to her son’s right, her little Henri and Margot next to her; Claude chose to sit far from her mother and next to Bash and Kenna, she still hasn’t forgiven her mother for keeping her away from court in the past four years.

Nine-year-old Charles had cajoled and complained until he was allowed a seat next to his sister-in-law, the Queen. It was a running joke in the family that Charles was infatuated with the Queen of Scots, always stealing her attention whenever he could.

“Mary, when can I see my nephews?”

Charles asked in a sweet voice, earning a smile from Mary and a mock glare from Francis.

“Your nephews are sleeping, little brother. Once they wake, you can join them in the nursery.”

“I have a present for them, I want to be their favorite Uncle.”

While the adults laughed at his ambitions his younger brother Henri shouted his objection with red cheeks.

“I am their favorite Uncle; they laugh when I play with them. You only make them cry!”

Claude and Kenna paused their bickering to pay attention to the feud developing between the young brothers, Catherine scolded both of them sharply. Even since the babies were born, Charles and Henri seemed adamant at continuing their rivalry for favorite Uncle, no one had the heart to tell the boys that the infants were too young to choose favorites. For once Catherine prayed that her children would stop competing with each other. First it was Leeza and Claude and now it was Charles and Henri, Francis was the only child that didn’t bother her, which was why he was her favorite.

The fighting seized when Francis broke it up, the boys weren’t very close to their father but their older brother was a different story. Francis and Bash were the only paternal figure in their lives. Bash chuckled at the stubborn look in the boys and couldn’t help himself from teasing.

“There is no need to fight gentlemen, for we all know that I will be their favorite, everyone loves Uncle Bash.”

Sensing the shift in mood, Philip jumped in too.

“Sebastian, need I remind you that the Dauphin has me as Godfather? James will have the best that Spain can offer.”

“I’m not sure how much I appreciate you buying my son’s affection.”

Francis regarded his brother by marriage with a twinkle in his blue eyes, pleased at his fondness for his godson. He had made Philip James’s godfather for two reasons, one being that he was Leeza’s husband and the second being that he knew the might of Spain. Should something happen to him, Francis wanted Spain and its armada to back James as King to ensure his safety.

Queen Leeza rolled her eyes in a manner similar to Catherine, not that she’d ever admit to being anything like her estranged mother. This measuring contest between the men was getting boring and she exchanged an exasperated glance with Mary at their antics. Leeza was always friendly with the Queen of Scots, when they played with Bash and Francis, the two girls were always on the same team. It made her happy to see the love between her brother and his wife, seeing as their connection for clear to see even as children. Mary had grown into a strong Queen just like Leeza and she admired her for it.

The same couldn’t be said of her opinion of Kenna; Sebastian’s wife was nothing but a gold digger and a whore. It was not a secret that she used to be King Henry’s mistress and Leeza held a deep hatred for any woman that bedded her father. Her parents’ dysfunctional marriage was the root of every problem in their family and Bash’s wife was a constant reminder of that. Leeza rose to her feet, bringing all the attention to her and raised her wine glass to her brother.

“To King Francis! Let’s not forget that we are here to see you crowned as our monarch. May God bring you the strength and faith to be a proud Catholic King.”

The family toasted to their new head with a chorus of ‘Hear, hear’.

Francis stood with a flattered smile and cleared his throat before addressing his family.

“Thank you, all of you, for supporting me on such an important day. Today I make you a vow.”

He gestured to every family member, “As long as I am King, you will always have a home here, the Crown will always protect you. I will not forsake my family, by blood or by marriage.”

The rest of the breakfast continued without a hitch and soon the family went their own way to ready for the coronation to be held in the evening.

Francis and Mary were coordinating with Bash and Conde to find the missing Protestant prisoners. Mary had struck a deal with a German duke in exchange for the release of German Protestants imprisoned by Henry. The complication came when the prisoners disappeared before the deal could happen. Bash had so far been unsuccessful at locating them but Mary decided to ask Prince Conde for help. As much as his behavior unnerved her, his sense of justice and religious tolerance made him the perfect man for the job.

Francis was reluctant to aid the protestant duke, uncertain about the message it would send to his very powerful catholic nobles but these were the same nobles too afraid of Lord Narcisse to sell the Crown grain behind his back. Narcisse was clearly a thorn in his side, he was trying to prove his importance by withholding grain and Francis was annoyed by it. He’d thought that giving him a position at the Privy Council would appease him but it felt like he was proving himself to the Lord. He did not need to prove that he was a good ruler, in mere hours he would be anointed by God and the church as King, he just needed to get through the day.

Relief came in the form of the missing prisoners and Francis felt the pressure easing. His cousin was indeed a friend of the realm and must be rewarded. After confirming the exchange with the duke, Mary and Francis made their way to their chambers. They had to get ready for the coronation. They passed by Lord Narcisse on the way and just couldn’t resist. Francis confidently strode to greet the Lord.

“Good day, your majesty.”

“And made even better, my lord,” he gestured his wife, “Why don’t you tell him, my love?”

Mary lifted her head to look down on Narcisse in triumph.

“We have located the German prisoners and traded their liberty for much needed grain. A boon for France, don’t you agree my lord?”

“Is that all?”

Narcisse spat through his clenched jaw. Francis narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

“No. I understand that you’d like to teach me how to rule, to judge if I am worthy of my throne. Well, I’ll tell what I’ve learnt; a King needs to know who his true friends are and keep making new ones all the time. Luckily, there are so many to choose from.”

“Without betraying your old friends, I trust.”

“Your position on my council makes it clear that it is not I who has betrayed a friend.”

“Haven’t you?”

Mary stepped in, offended at the tone the man was using in front of her husband.

“I don’t think my husband needs a lecture from you on betrayal.”

“Are you accusing me of something, Queen Mary?”

The disdain in his voice made it clear that her title was not said in respect.

“Of many things, my lord but let’s start with a betrayal of promises. Unless your grain has already arrived?”

Narcisse scoffed at her remark and turned to Francis.

“Your Consort speaks for you now?”

The King’s eyes blazed, his answer spat with venom.

“She is my Queen! And she does, in every matter, you’d do well to remember that. Because there will come a time when you will need our friendship, I assure you.”

Mary looked at her husband with pride and watched as the serpent of a man folded before his King and Queen. And an hour later when the cardinal crowned Francis as King, her smile was the widest. Mary could envision the future that they would create together as King and Queen of France and Scotland, a bright future with a just rule. When the Queen’s crown touched her head, she made a promise to herself that one day she would return to Scotland to crown her Francis as her King. So that they may rule together as equals, their love and loyalty forever cemented as a part of history.

Long Live the King!

Long Live the Queen!

Chapter Text

The King of France and Scotland was in his study with the Dauphin sleeping in his arms. Three months had passed since his coronation and he’d only gotten busier every day. A huge part of him wondered how his father found the time to juggle his mother, Diane and any other girl who was unfortunate enough to catch his eye. Francis and Mary hadn’t had a peaceful night alone for weeks, if it wasn’t their countries that needed them then it was their infant boys. His bastard son, Jean-Philipe took a liking to his step-mother and godmother, many times Lola would leave the boy with his half brothers so they could play.

A large part of Francis was glad for the distance; he didn’t want his wife to know how much his regicide was haunting him. Caroline, Jean’s nanny was being possessed by his father hell bent on exposing his crime to the world. So much time and effort had gone into ensuring that no one could suspect him; pardoning and bribing Montgomery to remain quiet, designing solid alibis and keeping Mary in the dark about the details. If anyone found out about his hand in the King’s death or even that his wife and mother were planning an assassination, they would all be beheaded.

Francis was reading through the reports of Protestant and Catholic violence in different regions of the country making a mental note to have Bash and Leith investigate the matter before it reached their castle gates. A soft gurgle and sneeze alerted him to the raven-haired baby in his arms, little James was staring at his father, his amber eyes still hazy from his nap. Fall was upon them and the winds were slowly losing their warmth, it was pleasant for the adults but his first born wasn’t responding to the change positively. James was very similar to Francis in build, according to his mother and his repeated sniffles made it clear that he would be frequently sick until he was older. The little boy was feeling poorly and would cling to his parents at all times and refusing him resulted in tantrums that were next to impossible to tame. Mary was busy helping with Lady Greer’s upcoming wedding so Francis had happily accepted the responsibility of his firstborn.

James loved been shown off in his father’s embrace, he still remembered how he sat in his lap while he held court in the throne room. Many disgruntled citizens had softened when they laid eyes on their Crown Prince and his gummy smile. James had also shown his favor for his father’s gold crown, any chance he could get to touch it would be met with many giggles. Francis sat his son in his lap and straightened out his blanket, tucking the velvet and fleece fabric tightly around him to keep the prince warm and toasty. James was dressed in a warm doublet of a beautiful navy, decorated by small embroidered fleur de lis.

“Good morning, your grace. Shall we find your mother? You must be famished!”

He cooed to his son and kissed his red nose, resulting in laughter that sounded like bells. Francis got up from his seat with a groan, his muscles stiff after hours of remaining in one position. The two men left the study in search for the Queen of France but they were stopped by the Duke de Poitiers and Lord Bayard; granted land and title for saving his King’s life.  

“What is it? We are in a bit of hurry.”

The smile on the King’s face died when he heard of the attack on a group of Protestants by Catholic extremists. The attack was an hour’s ride from the castle.

“Go out there and find out what happened. I will not tolerate violence, no matter what prompts it.”

Francis clutched James tighter to his chest and strode towards the throne room to meet the men gathered there to share their grievances. Mary was already there with his mother; Queen Mother Catherine de Medici observed the scene with an eagle’s eye. The Protestant guests placed the body of a young man brutally beaten to death by the attackers on the barn, the King immediately pressed his son’s face to his shoulder to shield him from the terrible sight. The Prince of Conde parted the crowd to rush to the boy at their feet with an urgency, he fell to his knees at the sight and cradled the boy’s head in his arms.

“Do you know this boy?”

Mary asked.

“He is my sister’s son, my nephew!”

The prince cried out at his unjust murder. Whispers began at the display and Francis called for the room to be cleared. He ordered the arrest of these aggressors so that they may be questioned.

“Will you punish them? This is an attack on my family, on the Bourbons.”

Conde demanded. Catherine moved from her place beside the thrones and turned to Louis.

“Why would they target your family? You are Catholic are you not?”

“I am, but my brother the King of Navarre is not and my sister is close to conversion herself.”

Louis stepped closer to Francis.

“You must give justice to these men or the divide between the Protestants and Catholics will tear this country apart.”

“I will not react without proper proof. England and Scotland have been facing this struggle, protestants replacing Catholic rulers, I am in not hurry to bring this battle to France.”

“It already is in France, your majesty.”

Mary could see that Louis was being ruled by his emotions and was quick to lash out but shouting at the King of France could result in trouble so she cut in.

“Louis, rest assured that this type of violence will not be tolerated in our rule, we will see justice done.”

After the seeing the clear divide between the two religious’ factions, Francis could admit that the struggle would be great if he were to be a tolerant King. Narcisse’s machinations proved that remaining neutral would alienate his catholic nobles who pretended to bow to him while holding great power and influence. The other issue was his father’s possession of Jean’s nanny. Just now he was on his way to lock her up until he found a way to get rid of Henry, she’d openly sat on his throne in front of the entire court.

“I knew you’d come.”

“Who am I talking to? Caroline or my father?”

Francis nervously asked the nanny.

“Months I have spent in this maid’s body while you walked free, I always knew you would be my usurper but I never thought you’d be my killer too.”

“Father please, leave me be.”

“Why should I? You murdered me!”

“You gave me no choice! You lusted after England, after Scotland and after my wife. You knew that you couldn’t have any of them as long as I lived so you planned to poison me. You were going to kill me!”

Francis shouted, his face red from the exertion and tears prickling his eyes. A strange smirk appeared on the nanny’s face.

“Is that why you struck a lance in my eye?”

“Yes!”

The words escaped him without thought. A year later, Francis would name this moment as the cause of his ruin. Because when he turned around, Stephane Narcisse was standing there having heard everything. Even when the lord knelt at his feet to present his neck, Francis’s decency stopped him from taking the man’s head, his need to be a better man than Henry drove him to spare the most dangerous man at court.

“It seems you are not your father after all.”

“As long as I’m never given reason to be.”

Later, when he learned that Narcisse freed Caroline; he regretted his moment of weakness and stormed into his chambers with the intent to end him.

“You did all of this, paying Caroline to coax a confession out of me, while you were conveniently listening.”

He growled at the noble, he was leaning casually on his chair as if he wasn’t about to threaten his King.

“I have been waiting for you, my King.”

“How did you figure it out?”

“Several Generals mentioned you planning a coup a day before Henry died. That coupled with your swift pardon for Montgomery while you pretended to grieve your father was enough for me to dig deeper.

Francis leaned over, his palms on the desk and fire in his eyes.

“You cannot convict me on the ramblings of a madwoman.”

“Yes! I can’t, that’s why I have Montgomery, who will tell all of France of your treason when I command or should something happen to me.”

Knowing that he was losing the battle, Francis switched tactics.

“What do you want? More power? Do you want my crown?”

“I want what I had with Henry; I want a King who listens to me!”

“A puppet you mean, following your every command.”

“I know what is best for France, you and Mary will destroy this country with your ideals.”

“Blackmailing me won’t be what’s best for France.”

Stephane straightened in his chair to meet the King’s eyes with challenge.

“You will stand with your Catholic nobles from now on or I will release the details of your regicide. I don’t want to do this but I must.”

“I have already shared my plan to punish the men responsible.”

“With your wife, who will be in as much danger as you if I reveal your secret. Even if Mary doesn’t know...”

“She doesn’t and never will.”

Francis lied through his teeth, thankful that he could convince him of that.

“Even so, no one will believe that your loving wife had no clue. Both your heads will be on spikes, I know you are very romantic together, a love story for the ages as the poets say so I’m sure that you would do anything to protect her.”

Francis clenched his teeth, his helplessness dawning on him. Narcisse was enjoying the King’s fear tremendously, satisfied with himself for holding such power. The King steeled his eyes and glared at his with contempt and loathing.

“I will make a written announcement immediately.”

Stephane’s smirk deepened.

“You have made the right decision.”

Francis was seated before the fire in his chambers with his head in his hands. He could recall the hurt and disappointment on Mary’s face when he told her he’d changed his decision, dismissing her arguments like she was nothing. He was so afraid for her; he’d lied to Narcisse when he said she didn’t know about Henry’s death but he feared that he would notice if he kept confiding in her. He had killed Henry to save his country, his marriage and his family, now his actions would slowly make him loose it all. He had never felt more helpless than when his wife was threatened if her refused to cooperate.

Mary came out from behind the changing screen in a beaded porcelain nightgown, her long raven hair shining with the oils she applied, she was so beautiful, so good.

“I love you Francis, and I promised to stand by your decisions., to support you. But I don’t understand why you didn’t discuss it with me? We are partners are we not?”

“I don’t want to discuss this. My decision is final.”

“Why not? You let the murderers of the boy free, your cousin’s nephew. He was just a boy. How could you stand for it? As a king and as a parent; the whole day I kept thinking of his mother, how I would feel if it was one of my sons in his place.”

“Mary please. I can’t do this with you right now.”

“You used to share things with me, we were on the same page. What changed?”

Mary beseeched her husband.

“I made the call that was best for my people.”

“Your decision will inflame the protestants to retaliate. I’ve seen this happen in Scotland; this will not end well for us Francis.”

Francis could no longer bare to hear the truth and rose from his seat to walk away from her. She held onto his arm to stop him, her eyes searching his face for a sign of the man who was so adamant at justice this very morning. He wretched his arm free, unable to bare her touch while he was actively betraying his promises to her and everything that they stood for.

“It was a decision I made as King for my country. It’s not my concern whether you agree with it or not.”

Mary’s eyes widened at the harshness of his tone.

“Not your concern? I am your wife, your Queen. Where is the man who promised me that we’d rule together?”

She snarled.

“That man has realized that it’s time to grow up, to be leader instead of a love sick schoolboy. Time and time again I have chosen to be a good husband instead of a good king. All of that ends now.”

Francis’s words felt like he was reaching into her chest and crushing her heart until it was broken and bleeding. Her legs gave out and she sat against the chaise, her hands clutching her chest. Hot tears escaped her burning eyes. She placed a palm over her quivering lips to muffle her whimpers.

“Barely a year since we’ve been married, my mother warned me this would happen, but I refused to believe her. I told her, you love me and you’d never hurt me.”

“Mary, I don’t say this to hurt you. We are royalty and I can no longer afford to rule with my heart.”

“Now that you have your precious heir, you have no use for me. I understand now, why you’ve been so distant, spending all your time with James, ignoring me.”

Francis tried to keep his composure but seeing her in pain because of him felt like he was killing a part of himself. He wanted to fall at her feet and beg for her forgiveness, tell her that it was all a lie and tell her how terrified he was. He knew that he had to keep her at arm’s length to protect her and when he saw the insecurity in her eyes, he found the perfect opportunity to get her to hate him.

“I am sorry that the truth came out like this, I tried to make things work but I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

“Pretending to love me, you mean.”

Francis swallowed the bitterness of his lies, he looked away from her so that he could find the strength to shatter both their hearts. Narcisse was right; he loved Mary and he would do anything to protect her, even if it means ruining their marriage. He could have her hating him for eternity as long as she was alive to do it.

“Yes, pretending to love you. Now can my interrogation end?”

Mary stood up from her seat on shaking legs and made her leave. She couldn’t bare to be in his presence for a second longer. So, for the first time since their wedding, Mary spent the night in a separate chamber.

Chapter Text

Today would go down in memory as one of the most absurd days ever. It had all started ordinarily enough, like any other day for the past week had been. Mary would wake up in the Queen’s chambers alone and dedicate her entire time to Scotland and her children. Mary was actively avoiding Francis after their last conversation; hearing the man she loved tell he that he only pretended to love her for the sake of their countries was a painfully bitter pill to swallow. She knew that if she spoke to him again, she would either break down in tears or throw something at his head. They were married and it couldn’t be undone, which meant that she would spend the rest of her life loving someone who did not love her. The thought brought another wave of despair and Mary pushed the pain down. She had found the perfect excuse to get away from the castle, Catherine was leaving to meet with some nobles soon.

Their trip took a terrible turn when their carriage was attacked and they had to escape with their lives. Walking around the forest in her navy gown and those uncomfortable shoes left her feel in blisters, Catherine made it painful for herself by falling into a squirrel trap and injuring her foot. When they caught a glimpse of a nearby village, they leapt at a chance at safety. Mary and Catherine rested in a pub, their concealed identities making things difficult but it was either work like peasants or get their throat slit by them.

After hours of working for Mary and sitting around for Catherine, they were able to afford a meal. In French Court, even her ladies liked to tease her about her time at the convent but now her common upbringing was helping her survive in the real world. Catherine tore into her food at a ravenous speed, Mary had to force herself not to laugh at how undignified she looked but it seemed her mother-in-law had no reservations about poking at her.

“So, my dear, tell me why you were so eager to get away from the castle?”

“I was not eager, I simply wished to see more of my country, I have never been to Beauvais.”

Catherine shot her an unconvincing stare.

“You practically cajoled me Mary, don’t lie to a liar.”

Mary sighed, she knew that unless she gave a satisfactory answer, the questions would continue.

“I just needed to put some distance between me and court.”

“The court or my son?”

“How could you possibly know?”

“You think I’m unaware of what happens under my roof? I have bribed every servant for the past week who knew that you were sleeping in separate chambers, to keep them silent.”

Mary lowered her gaze at the sharp tone, she felt like a sentimental child in front of Catherine. She never gave a thought to how her decision to stay away would appear to the court, no one could doubt the strength of their alliance or it would open them to enemy attacks.

“Mary, what did my son do that was so terrible that you can’t even go near him?”

“He told me that he no longer loves me.”

Her admission resulted in the Queen Mother of France to let out peals of hysterical laughter, she failed to see the humor in the situation. Mary tried to get her to stop, they were attracting attention from other patrons and some very dirty looks.

“Catherine! stop it, it’s not funny.”

“It is funny that you believe such a pathetic lie.”

Every single doubt in Mary’s mind came to surface at Catherine’s words. Ever since Francis claimed to not love her, she had been going mad trying to find moments where she could see him pretending but she couldn’t. Francis was one of the few genuine people at French Court and it didn’t make sense for her not to be able to tell when he was feigning his feelings for her. She knew her husband and she knew he loved her, she had to believe that or their entire relationship was a forgery. Even the thought of that crushed her very soul.

“But why would he lie to me?”

Catherine shrugged in response.

“You tell me.”

“He has been keeping secrets from me, he doesn’t share his problems with me. If this continues, what will our marriage become?”

“Normal.”

“Francis and I always said that we would be different, more than just an alliance…”

“It’s a romantic notion Mary, no matter how much you love each other, you are rulers of separate countries, you can’t always be on the same side.”

Catherine’s words held merit and for the first time Mary was genuinely inclined to heed her advice.

“Then what can I do? How do I move forward with this?”

“If Francis wants to keep secrets, you let him. In time, either he will unburden himself or you will learn to live with the distance between you.”

Mary was startled when Catherine held her hand across the table and looked at her with a warmth in her eyes only reserved for her children.

“The crown we wear is heavy, if you want to survive as Queen, do as I do and line it with velvet.”

Mary leaned against the window in the King’s chambers, she had just gotten back from nursing her babies and was waiting for Francis to return from the stables. Catherine had held him back after they returned safely to the castle, no doubt giving her son a piece of her mind. A smile graced her features at the King of France being scolded by his mother like a child.

She could still feel the warmth of his arms around her when he found them on the road, there was such desperation in his eyes as he clutched her to his chest, holding her tightly as if he was afraid to let her go. If she wasn’t already convinced of his lies then his actions proved his true feelings for her. When Francis entered the room, he was taken aback to see her. He walked over to her so that he was leaning on the other edge of the window in front of her.

“Not knowing where you were today, whether you were in danger or not. I could not have borne losing you, of anything happening to you. All I could think about was how I may never get the chance to tell you how much I love you.”

Mary stared at Francis with much of the week’s anger, the earnest glimmer in his eyes almost made her jump into his embrace but she stopped herself.

“You lied to me. You made me doubt your love.”

“I didn’t mean those words; I didn’t even mean them in the moment Mary. I was just so afraid for you; I wanted you to push me away.”

“Why? What has you so terrified? You have been haunted by something for weeks and you won’t tell me. Whatever it is, I will fight at your side!”

Mary stepped closer to hold his hands in her own, savoring the feel of his warm skin after so long.

“I wanted to handle it myself, to unburden you.”

“You said that we’d share our darkest truths, tell me what is wrong.”

Francis raised their clasped hands to his lips to place kisses on her knuckles.

“It’s Lord Narcisse.”

Of course it was, that man was a walking threat to their rule from the second that he learned of his son’s death. Mary had never regretted any decision more.

“Remind me again why we can’t kill him?”

“Mary, he has Montgomery.”

His words nearly stopped her heart. Such information in the hands of their enemies could only mean their deaths. Narcisse had the power to destroy them with this. Francis continued to tell her of all of Narcisse’s tactics to trap him. The measures he had taken to coax a confession out of him.

“This is a disaster! He could have you executed.”

“He said he’ll keep it quiet, as long as I cooperate.”

Mary mulled over the words for a second when she realized what the lord wanted from them.

“He’s blackmailing you; he wants a Puppet King.”

“Yes, that’s why I freed the catholic attackers.”

“Oh, Francis what are we going to do?”

Francis snapped his eyes to meet her gaze and shook his head.

“We will not do anything. I told him you knew nothing of this, that’s why I’ve been pushing you away. As long as Narcisse thinks that we are estranged, he will assume that you are unaware. Mary, I will not have you punished for my crimes.”

 Mary stood on her toes to meet his lips in a soft kiss, her hands left his to entwine in his golden curls. The passionate way in which he protected her filled her heart with such joy; after days of discord the feeling of being loved like him made her dizzy with ecstasy.

“We will trick Narcisse, maintain the charade at court and spend our nights loving each other.”

She whispered to him, lovingly touching their noses together.

“I was thinking of telling Bash, of working with him to find Montgomery. If I can get rid of his witness, he has no real proof against me.”

A part of Francis hated the murder of an innocent man but he did betray his king, the punishment for which was death. Mary cupped her husband’s cheeks and looked at him in the eye.

“Whatever Narcisse makes us do, we will share the blame together, I don’t want you to feel guilty for it. We will shoulder this burden as partners.”

Floored at her words and hating himself for ever doubting her, Francis wrapped his arms around her and brought her close to his chest. He inhaled the comforting floral scent of her hair and sent a quick prayer to God, to help him protect the people he loved and forgive him for the decisions he would have to make. Mary leaned to rest her chin against his heart and beamed at him before her face set in determination.

“We will do whatever we have to in order to trick Narcisse and once we get rid of the evidence; he will be drawn and quartered for daring to blackmail the King of France.”

Catherine was right when she said that Mary had changed, she was no longer just a girl. She was the Queen of two nations and God save anyone who tried to her harm what was hers; she will rain hellfire on Narcisse.

One way or another, Stephane Narcisse will pay.

Chapter Text

Days following their adventure were some of the happiest that Mary had been since their coronation. The act of distance in front of the court paired with sneaking touches brought both the King and Queen back to the days of their courtship. Thankfully Lord Narcisse had not pressed too much or interfered in the daily court affairs and Mary had yet to tell Francis why. During one afternoon of tea with her ladies, Lola confessed to a rather kinky flirtation with the man who was blackmailing their king, not that her step-son’s mother knew that. Mary and Kenna did agree that Lola had terrible taste in men though.

After getting ready for the day, the Queen made her way to the royal nursery to wake up her darling stars from their slumber. The door to the nursery was slightly ajar and soft twinkling giggles could be heard from inside. Mary felt a smile form and opened the door, revealing the King of France on his back on the rug with three six-month-old baby boys trying to tackle him. While they were too little to jump onto his stomach, they made up for it with enthusiasm.

Francis noticed her between his own laughter and sat up carefully so the boys wouldn’t jostle themselves. Her four boys looked up at her with equal grins of mischief; her affectionate James immediately raised his hands to be picked up while Edward tried to crawl in her direction, babbling his version of Mama. Even though Jean was happy to play with the boys, he never actively chose to be near Mary, especially when he could be with his father.

Mary balanced the twins in her arms, not wanting a fight so early in the morning. The two princes were always well behaved and adored each other, but even at such a young age they would compete for their mother’s attention. Francis held onto Jean tightly before getting up and walking over to his wife, he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on her lips. His gaze dropped down to the low neckline of the gown she wore and his smile turned into something less appropriate for a nursery.

“You look absolutely ravishing this morning, my love. Is your plan to torment me all day?”

Mary smirked in response; her husband pushed her hair behind her shoulder to release it from Edward’s tiny hands.

“If we have to pretend to be at odds, I might as well give my husband something to look forward to.”

When Francis leaned in to kiss the smug smile off her, Edward pushed his father’s face away with a cry that sounded very much like a no. The King narrowed his eyes at the Duke of Rothsay only to be rewarded by a toothless grin.

“Excuse me Sir, but she was mine first.”

“Sorry darling, you’ll just have to learn to share.”

Their blissful morning soon hit a snag when Narcisse accosted them in the middle of breakfast. He was insisting that Francis sign an edict forcing every French citizen to openly declare their faith to their King. It was clearly an attack on the protestant citizens of France. A terrible bloodshed would follow if Francis were to sign the edict; Mary noticed the self-assurance in Narcisse with thinly veiled disdain and knew that they would have to move heaven and earth to protect their people. Thankfully, the noble was quickly dismissed when the arrival of Princess Claude was announced.

Claude was always travelling the French countryside on diplomatic missions to represent her brother and the crown. In reality it was a mutual agreement they had come to in order to manage the tension between the Princess and the Queen Mother. Catherine held a grudge against her daughter that Mary did not understand and wasn’t about to investigate, some things were best left alone. Mary appointed Kenna to organize the welcome banquet for the Princess, with the snows of December thick outside, all activities were held in the castle and the Duchess was proving to be quite the talented event planner.

It was a long while before Mary and Francis had the chance to discuss the edict. They rode out to the now frozen lake on the palace grounds, it was shrouded by trees so it became the perfect place for their secret rendezvous.

“With Claude returning, we didn’t talk about the edict.”

Francis had his hands in the pockets of his thick coat, a gift from his brother-in-law James, he kicked a patch of snow in frustration at their dilemma.

“I don’t want to sign it. It’s inviting the persecution of French protestants, regardless of their faith, they are my people. I can’t sign their death warrants.”

Mary felt a wave of pride at his show of integrity and honor. She placed her gloved hands on his shoulders and leaned up so they were nose to nose.

“We will find a way to refuse the catholic nobles. And even if we don’t, I will stand at your side.”

“I am so blessed to have your trust, Mary. If only we had protestant nobles to neutralize Narcisse.”

His words gave Mary an idea.

“Francis you brilliant man!”

“What?”

He laughed at her excitement.

“We need protestant nobles to come forth and pressure you not to sign. It will buy us the time we need to keep Narcisse at bay.”

“And how will we find someone brave enough to stand up to me?”

Mary raised her head, a warrior’s determination set in her amber eyes.

“Darling, you leave that to me.”

The rest of the day, Mary worked with the only noble with protestant ties that she knew; Louis of Conde. For some reason, the prince was very eager to prove his loyalty to her and initially she had some reservations but now she was grateful for such a faithful subject. Louis introduced her to many nobles that were secretly protestant and all of them felt threatened by the edict. With the help of her husband’s cousin, she urged the nobles to stand up to their catholic counterparts and convince the King against signing the heinous edict.

The next morning during a court session in the throne room, Narcisse arrived with his usual pomp and swagger. He was followed by the French nobility and was holding the document of the edict.

“King Francis on behalf of all your catholic nobles, I humbly ask that you sign this edict for the good of France.”

Mary was observing the scene from a distance to show her disapproval, she was accompanied by Louis who was just as apprehensive about the edict. The only difference was that Mary knew the kind of pressure her husband was under, Conde just thought that Francis was a poor King. It pained her to see someone she was beginning to respect hold such little trust in her husband.

“Every noble at court is in favor of this edict your majesty.”

Narcisse’s deep voice boomed in the room. Mary turned to Louis, nervous at the display and whispered to him.

“He doesn’t have any support, you said that our plan would work.”

“If he gives in then we will soon have a religious war on our hands.”

Louis squared his shoulders and marched over to his King, he glared at Lord Narcisse before addressing the nobles.

“Not every noble is in favor of this edict. I am a noble, a prince of the blood and I see this law inviting the persecution and bloodshed of our citizens whose only crime is that they share different beliefs. This will not stop the protestant faith from reaching the nobles because it already has.”

He pointedly turned to the secret protestants behind Narcisse, urging them to take a stand with him.

“I am protestant! I do not share your beliefs but I am loyal to my King and my Queen. It doesn’t matter what one’s faith is, we are all French. I am standing here to ask you to be a King that protects all of his people.”

Francis nodded to his cousin to acknowledge his bravery but before he could take advantage of the speech. Narcisse rebuffed the attempt with a scoff.

“As gallant as your show is Prince Conde, you are but one man. My King, you mustn’t let one man lead you astray.”

The King opened his mouth to reply with an apology when another noble came to stand next to his cousin. Soon, the protestant nobles were not just limited to Louis and it gave Francis the opportunity to delay the signing of the edict.

“The boldness of these men shall not be forgotten and they will be protected by the crown. In light of this new development, I will retire to further consider the gravity of this law.”

The nobles filed out of the room, Mary walked over to Louis to thank him for his support and sacrifice.

“While I am filled with gratitude for your interference, I have to ask. Why risk yourself in such a way? You can never go back from such a public declaration.”

Louis smiled at Mary with warmth in his chocolate eyes.

“My Queen asked for my help and I did everything I could.”

“The crown is lucky to have such a friend, my lord.”

He gave her a bow before leaving.

Soon only the King and Queen were left in the throne room. Mary went to her husband with a triumphant beam.

“I really didn’t think Louis would go to such lengths but I am so glad our plan worked. We should reward our cousin, oh to see the anger on Narcisse’s face.”

Mary was suddenly cut off when Francis placed a hand on the back of her neck to pull her close into a deep kiss, lingering longer than was appropriate, leaving his wife short of breath.

“What was that for?”

She whispered; her lips curved upwards.

“I am so proud of you, my brave warrior queen.”

“I only wanted to give you a fighting chance. So that you can do right by our people.”

“I never wanted to sign the edict and now, thanks to you I don’t have to. We both know it is wrong, and with the nobility divided. I will not be pressured or blackmailed.”

Francis kissed his wife once more before heading to his study to complete his duties for the day. He still had to find Montgomery; he had his page summon Bash and waited for his brother.

The doors to his study burst open with the kind of impunity only one man could show before the King.

“I told you that there would be consequences, now you are listening to Conde of all people. But no matter, we are still in majority. Sign this edict and the Catholics will never have to lose their power.”

Francis leaned against his desk and regarded the man with narrowed eyes.

“I have made my decision. I will not be signing this edict; I will not invite such brutality and bloodshed in my first year as king.”

“You do realize what is a stake here, don’t you?”

“I have heard all your threats and there are lines I will not cross, not even to save myself. I will no longer take orders from you; a compromised king is not a king at all.”

Stephane cocked his head and curled his lips into a predatory grin.

“While I admire your courage, you are forgetting that it is not just you who’s at risk here. I know you will not endanger the lives of your mother and wife.”

“Even you cannot attack my wife and mother without proof. You will turn every Scot and every Medici against you.”

The noble’s grin widened as he shared the details of how he pieced together the evidence that Catherine and Mary tried to have Henry poisoned during private mass days before Francis killed him in the joust.

“So, you see King Francis, all three of you will be beheaded. And once you’re gone what do you think will happen to your family?”

Narcisse placed the edict document on the desk behind Francis and opened it for him to sign.

“Sign it and no one has to know. Because when you are gone, no one will protect your siblings. And your precious sons? Your heirs will be assassinated for your crimes before their first birthday. Refuse me and the House of Valois will end, your entire line reduced to nothing.”

Francis followed his wife after she stormed out after confronting him about his decision to sign the edict. He didn’t know how many of their words were for Narcisse’s ears and how much of her anger was genuine. He was disappointed in himself; he couldn’t stand Mary’s disapproval too.  When he reached their chambers, Mary was pouring wine into two goblets, she silently handed one to him before sipping a generous amount herself.

“I assume that Narcisse got to you?”

“Yes.”

“All this effort for nothing. The protestant nobles have essentially painted a target on their backs, Louis changed his faith to prevent this…”

“I really do think you should return to Scotland, take the children and leave.”

Mary’s head snapped to look at him in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth open.

“You were serious about that? Francis, I won’t leave you to fight alone.”

He crossed the room to hold her hands tightly.

“He knows about yours and Mother’s poisoning attempt. He has the proof needed to have all three of us killed. Mary, he threatened my entire line; my brothers and sisters, my sons. Our children are not safe here”

“And they will never be safe as long as Narcisse draws breath. We must work even harder to get rid of him.”

Mary argued, she grabbed onto her husband’s shoulders to steady his shaking body. How dare that man threaten her children?

“Francis, look at me.”

Her husband’s eyes were haunted, no longer the bright blue that shone like a summer sky, they were dull and lifeless.

“How many terrible decisions will I have to make to protect my family?”

“Ask Catherine, she’ll tell you it will never end.”

“I was ready to give my life for my people, call his bluff. But I will never put you or my family in danger, I will protect us, Mary. You must believe that.”

Mary stood on her toes to kiss his forehead and pulled him in for a warm hug.

“I do believe in you, my love.”

And she always will.

Chapter Text

The repercussions of the edict soon showed colors when the Vatican’s officers began forcefully rooting out the protestant Christians of France. Tensions were high between the faiths so it was no surprise when the protestant congregation sent their priest to stand up to the crown. He boldly threatened the King and Queen with a bomb ready to attack the catholic citizens if the Cardinal was not deposed from France. Francis sent Bash and Conde to investigate and search for the priest’s comrades, leaving him alone with Mary.

“Perhaps I should go too, reassure the people and hear their grievances.”

Mary proposed.

“And tell them what? That you opposed me at every turn before I made a mess of things? No Mary, it’s too dangerous.”

“Francis, I want to help. This is our doing, the least we could do is show our faces to smooth things over.”

Her husband observed her pale and ashen face, as much as her ladies were experts with cosmetics, he could see the signs of her recent illness. She needed to see a physician, not trek the country to try and fix his mistakes.

“You leaving in your condition is out of the question. You need to rest, my love.”

“I told you it’s nothing serious.”

Mary protested at his overprotectiveness but his worry convinced her to retire to her chambers. Francis was stressed enough with the current situation, the last thing Mary wanted was to burden him too. She kissed her husband before parting ways.

Francis had just reached his study when his bastard son’s mother entered the room. His relationship with Lola was complicated; she’d betrayed his wife and for a while he was too angry at her to consider forgiveness. But he loved Jean and she was his mother, there was a level of affection in his heart for the woman who let him be a part of his son’s life. Lately she became a great help, her disturbing flirtation with Narcisse gave Mary a chance to keep tabs on him. She’d even assisted him in placing an English cipher at his home without asking many questions.

However, something in her stance made him think that she was not very happy with him.

“You used me against Stephane! I thought that your rivalry was merely political but you lied to me.”

Lola accused him, her face red with anger.

“Lola what happened?”

“Stephane told me what you did. He said you killed Henry.”

Francis’s eyes widened at her confession and he moved to pull her away from the doors. He spoke to her in a hushed voice.

“Not so loud! How much did he tell you?”

“He admitted to blackmailing you to make sure you made the best decisions as king.”

His eyebrows shot up at the defensive tone she was using. Lola was actually accepting of that man’s actions.

“And you see nothing wrong with him blackmailing me? Your king and friend? The father of your child.”

“I don’t know what to think Francis. You lied to me, does Mary know?”

“Absolutely not! And she can never know.”

While Lola was Mary’s lady, her affection for Narcisse made her untrustworthy and he couldn’t let the snake know of his queen’s involvement.

“Can’t you make peace with him? He’s doing it for the good of France?”

Francis let out a sardonic laugh at how easily she had been manipulated.

“For the good of France? Is that what he told you? He threatened my entire family! Mary, my mother, my siblings and my children. All of my children Lola.”

Lola was taken aback by his harsh tone and her heart sank as she realized what kind of person Stephane truly was.

“He threatened our son?”

“Yes. I’m guessing he didn’t mention that to you.”

Knowing that Stephane was willing to threaten children to control the king made Lola less willing to listen to his lies. So, she promised to help Francis with whatever he needed to get rid of him.

Hours later, they learned that the priest was nothing but a decoy by protestant extremists who wanted to provoke the crown into giving them a reason to attack. When Francis released him to be treated and returned to his family, the radicals killed the priest on the way. Bash was injured in the skirmish, an arrow lodged in his shoulder. Francis and Mary were out for a ride when they learned of the attack, thankfully Conde had a townhouse nearby that Bash could retire to.

The situation was even more dire than they’d expected. The protestant extremists had hung their dead priest upside down on a cross like a heretic. The display was clearly meant to inflame every protestant to act in defiance to the catholic church and the crown. Blood will flow was the right sentiment and fear gripped at Mary as she realized that France was slowly facing the same fate as Scotland.

It was nightfall when they returned to the castle. Francis had visited Jean and Lola before going to see the princes, the boys were thankfully asleep because he was sure that Mary didn’t have the energy to put them down. His wife was dead on her feet after their long day and he was glad that she saw Conde’s physician after Bash was treated. The King frowned when he entered their chamber to find it empty, the doors to their private balcony were open.

Mary sat on the bench bundled up in furs to keep the chill out. His wife gazing at the crisp night sky with a solemn look. She turned to give him a soft smile with watery eyes, prompting him to briskly walk to her side, sitting down beside her.

“I know that today was not easy, but you must trust that I will protect you from anyone who tries to harm you.”

Mary reached for his hand to hold in her lap, her head resting on his chest as she listened to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. A yawn escaped the queen and her husband chuckled at how similar she looked to James in that moment. He started to comb her hair with his fingers, stroking the raven strands to lull her into relaxation.

“You’ve been getting so easily tired lately, what did the physician say?”

“He said it’s normal for someone in my condition.”

Mary lifted her amber eyes to meet his cerulean gaze, an unspoken emotion in them that he couldn’t comprehend.

“What condition? Are you ill? Is it serious?”

“Francis calm down, it’s not bad news.”

Her lips curving into a brilliant smile.

“Calm down? You have been so sick; your stomach hasn’t settled in days; you get tired and you said you’ve been experiencing sensitivity too.”

Mary moved her head from his shoulder to give him a kiss, his mouth instantly opening to hers. His grip on her hair tightened while his wife held onto his collar to steady herself. They pulled apart once air became a necessity, neither of them willing to loosen their hold on the other.

“You oblivious man; I am not ill at all, I’m pregnant.”

It took a second for Francis to register the words and his blinked to clear his head from the lustful haze.

“What...Are you certain?”

“Yes! Catherine was the one to figure it out, I was going to tell you on our ride but things got so out of hand.”

“My mother knows? How far along are you?”

“A few weeks, it’s still early but I want to tell the court. Any good news will be welcome in such difficult times.”

Francis tightened his grip on her at the thought of the state of their country.

“Your guards will need to be doubled, so will your tasters. I will not let anything happen to you or our baby.”

“You are going to be insufferable now, aren’t you?”

Mary feigned irritation but her twitching lips and twinkling eyes gave her away.

“You are carrying precious cargo, my love. Now come, lets get inside, you must be tired and cold.”

Francis rose to his feet and lifted his wife in his arms, eliciting a shriek from her that was followed by giggles. She took advantage of their position to tug on his earlobe with her teeth and whispered to him.

“I can think of a way you can warm me up, but it won’t involve any sleep I’m afraid.”

Her husband’s eyes darkened at her proposition, his steps becoming faster as he made his way inside and gently tossed her on their bed. They were in for a long night of celebrating.

Chapter Text

The Queen of France and Scotland released an irritated huff before peeling her gown off and stomping towards her wardrobe. Lola and Kenna observed the scene with bewilderment at her terrible mood, not wanting to be at the end of Mary’s ire they remained in place while she searched for a different dress. Perhaps it was the combination of nursing and her pregnancy but she didn’t remember her bust becoming unbearably tight this early into her previous pregnancy. Mary was progressively becoming more and more ill-tempered, all of court steered clear of the Queen but her manner was taken in stride by the nobles, after all she was once again with child. The French nobility took it as a show of superiority over the baren Queen Elizabeth, their greedy hands all the hungrier for England after the distress between the two faiths following the edict.

Mary and Francis were trying to find ways to locate the protestant extremists who were responsible for inciting violence but they had yet to be successful. Bash was working together with Louis and Leith to minimize the damage as best as they can. There was so much responsibility on their heads that the expecting parents hadn’t truly had the time to enjoy their growing family. That was going to change tonight; Catherine had advised them to hold a banquet to formally introduce their children to court. With James and Edward nearing their seventh month, they were old enough to be seen by the nobility as the future rulers that they were.

When the queen was finally dressed into a looser gown, her ladies took their leave to resume their duties. Kenna was seeing to the arrangements of the festivities while Lola was spending the day with Stephane in order to gain as much information as possible; the girl who once betrayed her monarchs was proving to be quite talented in the art of spying. Instead of waiting for Narcisse to slip Montgomery’s location, Francis recently came up with the ploy to goad him into shifting him. Should their plan succeed, all they’d have to do is follow whoever had the task and reach their destination.

Mary spent her morning overseeing the court and receiving guests while the King and his Deputy were busy with state matters. She was beginning to notice the suspicious glances of her mother-in-law but she ignored them, with Catherine so busy trying to marry off Claude she didn’t have much time to interfere in their lives. It made her curious as to the reason behind Catherine’s eagerness to wed her daughter off, especially to suitors that bring no advantage to their family. The Queen Mother did have a queer relationship with her daughters, she swore that she loved them but she never seemed to do right by them. Sometimes it felt as if she was a better mother to Mary than to Claude. The thought of daughters made her rub her palm on her flat abdomen; while it would be politically better for them to have a son, both Francis and Mary were hoping for a princess.

The Queen was soon on her way to her husband’s study when she ran into Lord Narcisse. The man actually bumped into her as he strode out of the King’s study. He was muttering to himself with urgency, his body wrought with tension. When he noticed just who he had crossed paths with, his eyes widened and he snapped at her with a sneer.

“Your husband is out of his mind! Be a good Consort and make him see reason.”

Mary was flabbergasted at his tone, not once had she seen the man in such a state. Before she could respond, he was on his way. She shook her head and continued to walk till she reached her destination. Inside the study, Francis and Bash were sharing a bottle of scotch, the beverage was native to her homeland and her husband had taken a liking to it ever since her brother shared it with him at their wedding. The brothers were wearing matching grins of satisfaction and tipped their cups in her direction.

“What exactly is going on? Does this have something to do with Narcisse rushing out like he was on fire?”

“What happened is that our king is one hell of an actor! He even had me convinced that he isn’t fit to rule.”

Bash’s words were dripping with glee. Francis responded to the praise by giving them a dramatic bow which made her laugh at their antics.

“Do you think it’s enough to convince him to send for Montgomery?”

Mary asked.

“I’m not sure actually… do you have something in mind?”

Francis regarded the furrow of her brow which usually meant that she was up to something.

“I was thinking about a way to soften the blow of the edict, showing our religious tolerance. I was thinking of an interfaith marriage; between Claude and Louis.”

The two brothers exchanged a glance, the idea itself had merit. Not only will it inflame Narcisse but it will set an example for France to promote harmony between the fractions.

“My mother will never go for it; she’s made no secret that she hates the Bourbons. She won’t like the idea of Conde having a stronger claim to the throne.”

Mary dismissed the concern with a wave of her hand.

“Catherine is not the head of our house; she will have no choice but to bow down to any decision you make. And as far as his claim goes, we will soon have three heirs to succeed us, pushing any Bourbon claim further away from the throne.”

Bash, who was listening to their brainstorming silently, jumped in with another complication.

“How will you convince Conde to agree? Even if Claude does her duty, you will have to deal with Conde. He might refuse.”

His words stumped Mary but Francis shrugged off that concern.

“He’ll do it if Mary asks him to.”

“Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”

Mary glared at his insinuation.

“Mary, you cannot tell me you haven’t noticed it yourself. He’s enamored with you; he has helped you time and time again at great risk to himself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Francis. He’s simply loyal to his cause.”

Even though Bash could see that annoying a temperamental pregnant lady was not the wisest course of action, he couldn’t help but agree with his brother.

“No, he’s right. Conde has a thing for you.”

Mary turned to her brother-in-law with a glare, her hands on her hips reminding him of his mother.

“I liked it more when you were at each other’s throats.”

“So, it’s settled then; I deal with Claude while you charm Conde.”

“I don’t know Francis, if he really does care for me then it’s extortion. I feel uneasy taking advantage of his feelings.”

Francis moved from his seat to stand before his wife, his hands reaching for her to steady her nerves.

“It’s a good plan. Our cousin will be known as the savior of France and have a future only friendship with you could give him. You will convince him, I’m sure of it.”

He settled his gaze on her, his eyes shining like crystals and a smile on his face that she could never resist. Edward inherited the same smile and just like his father, was never afraid to use it to his advantage.

“Alright then; I will talk to Louis and you will deal with Claude.”

The rest of the day went by very swiftly. Mary and Francis were able to get Louis and Claude to agree to an engagement. They were planning to announce the news at the banquet tonight in hopes that their message would get across to the protestant extremists. Their plan bore fruit when Sebastion came to Francis with the news that Narcisse had sent his man to retrieve Montgomery. Francis went in search of his wife while Bash prepared for their departure.

He found Mary in their chambers trying to sooth a screaming James. The Dauphin had come down with a slight fever and cold, he was inconsolable so the nannies had to call for his mother. When she saw the urgency in her husband’s steps, she paused her movements to walk over to him, even the prince quieted as if he sensed their tension.

“Francis, what is it?”

“Bash and I are leaving to find Montgomery.”

“Now? It’s only hours till the banquet, people will notice your absence.”

“I won’t be long, but if I don’t come back in time just make up an excuse.”

Mary placed a hand on his cheek, a forlorn smile on her lips.

“Things will get better after today, won’t they?”

Francis leaned in to kiss her forehead.

“I will protect you; I promise.”

“Please be careful; remember that you have a family waiting for you.”

The banquet went without any disturbance, the babies were thankfully on their best behavior, even if James never left his mother’s arms. While many nobles asked about the King, his wife feigned an illness from overworking that would be cured with a night of rest. Mary announced the engagement between Louis and Claude, she didn’t even notice when the prince slipped out of the castle in the middle of the festivities.

After the banquet was over, little James and Edward were put to bed; at least Edward was, James clung to Mary and refused to let go, kicking up a storm every time Mary put him down in his crib. So, breaking her rule of no babies in their bed anymore, Mary tucked her son into her blankets and curled up next to him before drifting off to sleep.

The castle that Francis and Bash returned to looked nothing like the one they had left behind merely hours ago. There was a commotion that had nothing to do with the night’s festivities made them alert and they unsheathed their swords. Instantly it became clear that their home was under attack. Without a second thought, Francis sprinted towards his chambers as fast as his legs could take him. If the reason behind the attack was his actions, then he had to make sure his family was safe.

The guards posted outside the door were dead and their throats slit open, a muffled sob made them burst open. The King of France saw red at the scene in front of him, the animal about to rape his wife never got the chance. One moment, the Queen could feel the violent and dirty fingers inside her and the next her attacker choked on his own blood. A sharp point was visible at his throat as the sword penetrated into the back of his neck only to come out the other end, a brutal death befitting the crime. Mary’s hands were released when Bash killed the man holding her down. The third attacker was merely knocked out, that one would be tortured for information. Bash silently left the room to check on Kenna and make sure she was unharmed.

Mary was shaking; her wrists and neck red with bruises, her lip split and her cheek swollen from the punch to her face. Her attackers had come into her room hoping to kill Francis in his sleep but got angry when they didn’t find him. The man who tried to rape her was Severin, his son was the priest that had been killed and was set on revenge. He and his men beat her until she couldn’t stand anymore. He wanted to kill her unborn child, a son for a son he said. When he got bored with his assault, he had his men hold her down so he could break her further, ruin the Queen of France.

“Mary… look at me. You’re safe now. I’m here.”

Her husband was kneeling on the floor in front of her. She hadn’t even noticed that she was gripping the bedframe so tightly. She flinched away from his outstretched hand.

“Please. Don’t come any closer.”

She couldn’t stand to be touched, especially not by him. What Francis had walked in on, her husband and king saw her in such a shameful state. How could she ever recover from it? And their baby; she could feel her child slipping from her womb. Her insides felt aflame and she couldn’t even stand on her own. But she knew that she couldn’t let him touch her, she was tainted and she didn’t want to see the dismay in his eyes.

There was a knock on their door and Francis reluctantly left her side to answer it. Catherine stood outside with Edward in her arms, she was worried about her children and the nanny told her that James was with his mother. She walked inside to see the Queen of France curled into herself on the floor, broken and blue, her nightgown ripped and stained with blood. She turned to her son in horror.

“Was she raped?”

“No… I killed him in time. But Mother, she won’t look at me or talk to me. Why is she afraid of me?”

Catherine couldn’t bare to see the agony on her son’s face, it broke her heart to know that her daughter was facing the same fate that she faced herself. The entire castle had seen the bodies dragged from their wing, if they didn’t control the damage done here, the whole world will hear of this attack. She asked her son to give them some space and handed her grandson to his father. Walking over to kneel in front of the shaking girl, the Queen Mother of France held out her palm.

“Mary… it’s Catherine. I know that you don’t want to be touched right now and that’s alright. What happened to you was a terrible tragedy but you are alive and your attacker is dead.”

It was a moment before Mary lifted her gaze to look at her, her eyes bloodshot and swollen.

“They came here looking for Francis, they wanted to kill him. They got angry when I told him he wasn’t in the castle, they attacked me. He hit me but I didn’t make a sound, I couldn’t let them know that James was hidden under the covers.”

Hearing that diverted Francis’s attention from his wife and mother to the small lump on his bed. To think that his first born was in the room while his mother was attacked brought bile into his throat that he had to force down. He slowly moved to check on his son, not wanting to startle his wife with any sudden movements.

“Mary, the men who hurt you were seen. You must clean up and face your court. Hide any evidence of what happened tonight, any trace of their hands on you.”

“Mother!”

Francis hissed from the bed at the same time that Mary let out a cry at the mere prospect of being around people.

“These next moments will define your place in history, my dear, whether you will be remembered as a victim or a survivor. What they did tonight will die with them, they tried to take away your pride and your strength but nothing can take that away from you. Not ever.”

“Please leave me be…”

She begged through her tears.

“I will help you get through this; you will survive this just like I did. You will get up and you will brush this off. You have to Mary; for yourself, for Francis, for your children and for your nations. They tried to diminish a king by degrading his queen but they will not succeed. We cannot let those animals win.”

Catherine moved closer to her and extended her hand again.

“Take my hand, trust that I can get you through this. You are stronger than you know and you will survive this. I promise you.”

Mary reluctantly took the offered hand and let her mother-in-law help her to her feet. A cry of pain left her lips at the sudden movement and she felt liquid trickle down her legs, she closed her eyes and leaned into Catherine’s arms. She didn’t need to look to know that blood was flowing down from her womb.

“They killed my baby.”

The Queen of France whimpered.

It was a while before Mary was presentable enough to hold court. Catherine had sent Francis out of the room to see to the rest of the castle before helping his wife clean and dress. She slipped her an herbal remedy for the pain and to slow the bleeding. She helped the Queen down the stairs to the throne room, only leaving her side when she was seated on her throne. Francis was already there, waiting for her to address their court and prove herself unscathed by the night’s events.

“My loyal subjects! I reassure you that your King and your Queen remain untouched.”

The strength in her voice reverberated through the hall and the crowd cried out in relief. Francis met his mother’s eyes with jaws clenched but understood the importance of this show. He had to physically hold onto the arms of his throne to keep them from trying to comfort his wife, he could still picture the fear in her eyes when he tried to touch her, the way she had recoiled in his presence.

“These murderous traitors who invaded the castle tonight; have achieved nothing, have altered nothing and they will die for nothing.”

Every lie that left her lips tasted more bitter than before; her thighs were still damp with blood that was sure to stain her cushion seat. Her face was covered with cosmetics to hide her bruises and her dress hid the fingerprints on her wrists and around her throat. Her husband stood up slowly; his body stiff with barely contained rage as he addressed his court and all of his people.

“It seems I have been remiss in communicating with my subjects. I realize that I have been misunderstood, that any fraction of men think that they can attack my castle, my home, my family and the people under my protection and can get away with it.”

His gaze landed on Lord Stephane Narcisse; the man truly responsible for the attack, for the horror that his wife had to endure and for his daughter’s death. He wanted him to hear the consequences for his actions; he would make every single person involved to suffer the way his family was suffering. They will taste true fear soon enough.

“My mercy has been mistaken for weakness for too long and it ends tonight. I will hunt down every person responsible for this and have their heads on pikes before the day is done. And should anyone ever think to betray their King again; may God have mercy on them, because I certainly won’t.”

The time for being a merciful and tolerant ruler was over. If France needed a ruthless King, then they will get one; so that no one ever dares to harm his family ever again.

Chapter Text

Mary woke up to the sounds of metal chains clanking in the courtyard, the doors and windows to the room were wide open so her new guards could ensure her safety. She got out of the covers with shaky limbs, the drugs Catherine gave her helped with the pain and got her to sleep but now they were earing off. Francis was on a warpath; every protestant linked to the attack was thrown in the dungeon to be interrogated and he’d personally enjoyed cutting pieces off her attacker. Her husband hadn’t slept at all and thankfully he was too busy to come and see her. It was so irrational to feel such a way, he’d saved her from a terrible fate and yet she couldn’t bare to be near him. Just the thought of another person’s touch brought her back to Severin and his hands; touching her in places only her husband had ever touched her.

Her old rooms had been prepared in the early hours of morning as she couldn’t stand to be in those chambers any longer. Mary dressed herself in a simple navy gown; with long sleeves and a high collar to cover the fingerprints visible on her pale skin. The bleeding had finally slowed down enough that she could walk without leaving stains but the pain was still there. Mary wasn’t sure what hurt most; her attack or the loss of her daughter.

Sometime later; Kenna, Greer and Lola came into her room with the twins. She was nervous about admitting what happened to her but she knew they’d have questions. James took one look at his mother and held out his arms while Edward stayed with his godmother. Mary held her baby to her chest and inhaled his comforting scent, James was another reminder of the worst night of her life but he was her son and even if she’d known how it would break her, she still would have chosen his safety over hers.

“Why have you changed rooms? You and Francis told us you weren’t harmed."

Greer asked and Kenna shot her a look. Her sister-in-law and lady took a seat beside her, making sure to keep her distance. The sorrow on her face made it clear that she knew; Bash must have told her.

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

“No Kenna, it’s okay. The truth is that I was attacked and nearly raped last night. Francis killed them in time but I lost the baby.”

Greer and Lola stepped forward to embrace their friend and queen but stopped when she flinched at the movement.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t bare to be touched right now.”

“Oh Mary! What can we do to help?”

Greer felt guilty about hiding her husband’s involvement with the attack, knowing how terribly Aloysius’s choices impacted her queen gripped at her heart. They had come to French Court to help Mary and all of her ladies ended up disappointing her and hurting her.

“Francis will make everything alright. He will punish everyone responsible and I will get my justice. You just have to keep this a secret.”

“A secret? Everyone will notice that you lost the baby.”

“We’ll make up a story Lola, you needn’t worry. I just need your support for now, the coming days won’t be easy for me.”

As if the babies could feel the tension in the room, they began to fuss. Kenna stood up to rock Edward while James was passed on to Lola. If her ladies noticed how quickly Mary distanced herself from her first born, they didn’t comment on it. The truth was that after the events of last night, Mary didn’t see a way out of her grief. How could she be a good mother and a good wife if she couldn’t protect herself or her daughter?

 “And Lola?”

“Yes?”

“Could you take care of my sons while I’m recovering? I just… I can’t…”

Lola rubbed the back of her son’s half-brother to sooth him, placing a kiss on his dark hair as his cries subsided and smiled at her friend.

“I will love them like Jean.”

“Thank you.”

Her ladies stayed with her for a while to give her company but soon took their leave when a maidservant came in to bring her medicines; the herbs were designed to put her to sleep so her body could heal. The sooner her bruises disappeared, the sooner she could resume her court duties without having to hide them.

Lola left the babies in their nursery before going in search of Francis. When Mary mentioned him punishing everyone responsible, she immediately knew that he would target Stephane as well. Lola had information of his many hiding places that could be useful to the father of her child. Recently, working with Francis to spy on Stephane made her realize what an amazing man he truly was. He was honorable, charming, intelligent and very attractive; their queen was a lucky woman and so was Lola because she was sure that Jean would be the best parts of his father. Already, her son had the golden curls and cheekbones that resembled the King.

Over the months, Lola and Francis had set up an amicable friendship that made her feel safe at court, even if it ruined her chances of ever finding a worthy suitor to marry. Which was why Lola wanted to see him; he must be devastated by what happened to his wife and was surely in need of a friend. The king was thankfully in the throne room and it was empty enough for Lola to help him. She greeted him with a reassuring smile and took stock of his appearance. While he had changed into his leathers, there were clear indications in the bruises under his eyes and the state of his hair to know that he hadn’t had a wink of sleep.

Overcome with compassion for her friend, Lola walked over to embrace him. The gesture was met with stiff arms and confusion but was soon accepted as a means of comfort. Francis pulled away to search her face for any clue as to what prompted the sentiment.

“Mary told us what happened, Francis I am so sorry.”

His entire body tensed at the mention of Mary.

“Not as sorry as I am, if only I was a few moments early, my daughter would still be alive.  And Mary, she hasn’t spoken a word to me since then. I have no idea how to reach her.”

“Francis, you can’t blame yourself, the only people responsible are the ones who attacked us last night.”

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder to get him to look at her.

“Give Mary some time; your love for each other is one of the most beautiful things I have seen. You will get past this.”

“Thank you, Lola. Now if you’ll excuse me, I still have to oversee the interrogations.”

Francis brushed past her but she stopped him before he could leave.

“I actually came to give you information. When he was wooing me, Stephane took me to an estate he called his sanctuary. If he has gone into hiding…”

“Then he’s surely there. Tell Mary where I am if she asks, I’ll be back soon.”

Francis’s lips curled into a predatory grin as he rushed off for the stables. There was no time to waste, finally the man that orchestrated the ruin of his family was going to pay with his. He wouldn’t kill him, not yet but Francis has recently learnt that there are fates far worse than death. Stephane Narcisse valued his power, his wealth and his influence above all else, once Francis was done with him, the lord will one by one lose all he holds dear.

When Mary; Queen of France and Scotland woke up from her drug induced sleep, Catherine was at her bedside reading from the family Bible. The Queen Mother looked troubled and restless, all her children were suffering one way or another. Mary got up with some help from her mother-in-law and put on some warm layers at her insistence.

“You need to come outside and see the traitors being punished.”

“Is that what helped you? Seeing their bodies hang? I already saw my attackers die Catherine. It doesn’t change anything; my daughter is still dead and my skin still marked by his touch.”

Catherine held out a hand for her to take to support herself, it brought her relief to know that Mary could accept her touch. Her son was putting on a brave face but Catherine knew that their distance pained him deeply; she didn’t have the heart to tell him that he may never get his wife back. The Mary that they all knew had died last night along with her child, and whoever she will now become was in the hands of God.

“It won’t change anything yes, but seeing justice done will help you feel safer.”

When they reached the castle courtyard, many of the traitors had been hanged by the King’s command and under the supervision of his Deputy. Bash greeted both the queens upon their arrival, they were joined by Prince Conde moments later. After his engagement announcement, Louis had fled the castle not wanting to be married to Princess Claude. He couldn’t help but feel a pull to the fiery queen, she was so different to all the other woman in France that he couldn’t help but fall for her. Especially when he saw how she was blatantly mistreated by Francis, he claimed to love her and yet dismissed her brilliance and her support. If Mary was his wife, he would cherish her like no other, he would even remain faithful to her.

Louis handed Sebastian the information he gathered about men that might have funded the attack, Francis had asked for his help and while he disliked the man, he couldn’t miss the chance to help protect Mary. His gaze landed on the castle gates and he noted something that wasn’t there when he’d left. Three heads were mounted on pikes for all to see; Louis’s features twisted in distaste at the barbaric practice. Surely it was an order from the King, Francis was being uncommonly beastly following the events of yesterday.

His eyes shifted from the brutal display to Mary to see her reaction. Louis was expecting anger or indignation that was usually there when she was displeased with her husband’s decision but nothing was there. The beautiful queen was paler than the snow, her eyes widened in panic and her entire body shook. She wrapped her arms around her abdomen, like she was protecting her empty womb from the memory of last night. Louis turned to Bash, barking at him to take those heads down.

“Can’t you see that it’s upsetting her?”

He was about to continue his rage when her sweet voice cut through.

“Is that Severin? And his accomplices?”

Bash stepped closer to Mary but was prevented from touching her by Catherine, her icy glare landing on Louis as if he’d been the one to wrong her.

“Mary, Francis ordered all three of them to be displayed as a warning.”

“Take them down.”

Mary’s voice shook with the effort, no one could see but the bruising on her throat made it hard to speak.

“Bash, take those bastards down, NOW!”

Catherine tried to sooth her but she was pushed away as Mary ran away from the scene as fast as her weak legs could take her. Louis didn’t wait for anyone before dashing off in her direction, she was clearly distressed by something and he would help her. He followed her to the stables where he was told that the queen went out for a ride.

He covered the castle grounds twice before he ventured into the woods where he finally saw the queen’s horse. Mary was sitting on a rock in the midst of all the snow, she resembled a nymph in her navy gown and thick cloak. Her shiny dark hair flowing like a dark river down her back, Louis was so busy drinking in her ethereal beauty that he failed to see her stand up until there was a dagger pointed at his chest.

“Good Lord! Mary.”

She relaxed a bit when she recognized him but still stepped away before he could come close to her.

“Please leave Louis. I wish to be alone.”

“But Mary, it’s dangerous for you out here. Let me take you back home, where it’s safe.”

Mary scoffed at his words; safe, no where was safe anymore and it never will be. Seeing those heads made her realize that no amount of justice or revenge will undo what she endured. Nothing Francis did would change the fact that she was utterly damaged and she was already tired at the thought of pretending that she was okay when she was crumbling to pieces.

“I don’t know what home is anymore Louis.”

“I didn’t mean to pry but I heard how close the attackers came to your rooms and I was worried. You must be shaken.”

Louis raised a hand to comfort her but she physically recoiled away, flinching at his proximity. His eyes rewidened as he recognized her demeanor; Louis wasn’t a stranger to brutality and violence against women and he had noticed such behavior during his battles before.  He took a step back and watched as she visibly relaxed at the distance.

“Mary, forgive me for prying but…”

“Then don’t!”

She snapped at him.

“Those heads, you recognized them, knew their names. They got into your rooms, didn’t they? They attacked you.”

“Stop it please. Go away Louis!”

“Mary did they… were you?”

“No!”

Louis was taken aback by the anger in her tone, she had never screamed at him before. Her eyes softened when it dawned on her how she had reacted. There was no point at lashing out at Louis when he just wanted to help.

“They tried to but Francis made it in time, he saved me.”

“But you don’t feel safe.”

“The attackers were very brutal and it was a traumatizing experience. It was an act of war against my husband, which is why no one can know what truly happened. You cannot tell anyone.”

“I don’t give a damn about your husband Mary! It is you who is suffering for his terrible decisions.”

She was surprised to see such a passionate display on her behalf and Francis’s warnings came to mind. He is enamored with you; for the first time she could see the truth with her own eyes. Now his hatred of her husband made sense, not a single man at court would openly defy the King as he’d done and it was out of his feelings for her. She had to put a stop to this now; Mary was in no condition to entertain the affections of this man, or any man in truth.

“Louis your animosity towards your King has to stop.”

“He put you in danger.”

“We are royalty! We are always in danger. I have been hunted by the English since my sixth day, I am no stranger to a target on my back.”

Mary fisted her arms at her side in frustration at the situation. A curse left her lips and she clutched her belly when a painful cramp overtook her, her eyes burned at the pain and she could feel the warmth of blood trickling down her legs, staining her thick stockings.

“Mary? Is everything alright?”

“I need to return to the castle.”

She spoke through clenched teeth and bit back the agony as she straddled her horse. Louis noticed the trail of blood that followed her steps on the white snow.

“You’re bleeding!”

“Yes, which is why we need to go back.”

Without giving him a second look, the queen galloped away, leaving Louis to ponder at what truly happened the night before.

Francis returned just before sundown with a chained Stephane Narcisse in tow. He had Leith throw him in the tower before he made his way inside the warm castle. His mother stopped him in the hallways and explained everything that happened in his absence. The moment he learnt of his wife bleeding all the way back home he rushed up to her room.

Mary was in bed, huddled under the covers to keep her warm. Kenna and Lola were at her side but they took their leave when he entered. He gave them a quick smile, thankful for the privacy. His wife was fiddling with her fingers, her eyes lowered purposefully to avoid his gaze. Francis took tentative steps to her bedside and slowly sat at the foot of the bed atop the covers.

“Mary please… why won’t you look at me?”

He begged her and when she did meet his eyes, they were no longer the shining brown he loved but muted and dull.

“Every time I look at you, I’m reminded of last night. It haunts me that you saw me like that, helpless and tainted.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks to mirror the wetness of his own eyes. Francis placed a hand over his chest to try and sooth the ache, his beautiful, strong queen reduced to this.

“Don’t say that. You are not tainted; you were wronged by evil men who have been punished for their crimes.”

“I thought that seeing them brought to justice would fix me, would soothe the grief of losing her but it didn’t.”

“Mary, let me help you. Let me take away your pain.”

“This notion that we could put the pieces back together; we can’t Francis. Our daughter is dead and so are the men who hurt us but nothing has changed. I am just as broken today as I was last night.”

Mary wiped away her tears when she could no longer see through them. Speaking with Louis made her see that he was right; their enemies wanted to hurt Francis so they hurt her because he loved her. If they had any hope of surviving this marriage then they needed to behave like true monarchs.

“I think we should live separate lives.”

His entire body went rigid at her words.

“Why would you say that?”

“I can’t be a wife anymore; I can’t live in fear of our enemies hurting me to get to you.”

“You blame me for what happened, that my choices brought this violence into our home.”

Mary shook her head.

“I don’t blame you for doing what you had to, I said I’ll support you and I will.”

“So why? Why would you want us to live apart? We are not like my parents, we love each other. Mary please don’t make me do this. I love you and I know that you love me.”

She wanted to melt in his arms, to wipe away his tears and listen to his heart lull her to sleep. She wanted to go back to the person she was yesterday but she couldn’t, which is why she needed to put this distance between them, for both their sakes.

“Look where our love has brought us. I’m so sorry Francis but I need this, I will still be your queen but I can’t be your wife.”

Francis sighed in resignation, wiping his tears he got up from his perch and held her stare.

“I don’t want to do this, but you are everything to me. If this is what you want then…”

“It is…”

“Just don’t shut out the people who love you, you shouldn’t be alone.”

“Thank you, Francis.”

He turned his back to her and squared his shoulders, putting on a brave face he left his wife in her room.

It was night fall and Mary couldn’t close her eyes without seeing the images of her attack. The feel of those hands, his breath in her face and the anger on his face as he delivered blows to her womb, killing her baby girl. She tossed and turned in bed before she gave up, walking over to her door to ask the guards to send for some warm mulled wine from the kitchens.

She waited in front of the crackling fire of the hearth, soaking in as much warmth as her shivering form could take. Soon there was a knock on the door and her maidservant came in with a tray. She handed her queen the beverage and produced two letters from her pocket.

“This was found under the carpet in your old chambers, your majesty. It must’ve been slipped in the night of the attack.”

The first letter was on a simple parchment with her name on it, while the other had a seal on it that she couldn’t see clearly.

“And the other?”

The maid handed her the letter before confirming.

“That is from the King.”

Mary thanked her before dismissing her for the night. She opened the mystery letter first, not sure if she wanted to read anything Francis had to say. The contents surprised her; she hadn’t expected Louis to be so bold with her. His frustration and behavior made more sense, he must’ve thought that she was already aware of his affections. That she’d gotten the letter and was dismissing him. She wasn’t sure what to do; this letter indicated that he genuinely cared for her and she didn’t want to hurt him by confronting him. She also had no intentions of reciprocating his feelings.

She was a married queen who couldn’t afford even the rumor of an affair, she also couldn’t be around men after her attack. She would just distance herself and hope that he gets the message, remove himself from her life for good. Mary threw the letter into the fire and watched as it burned to ash before her eyes. She sipped her wine, finishing two cups before she found the courage to open her second letter.

Francis had been in such pain when she asked for them to lead separate lives. How could she make him understand that she was no longer the woman he fell in love with? How could she take his love knowing that she could no longer make him happy like he deserved?

With great reluctance, she opened the seal and unfolded the thick parchment. She braced herself for the onslaught of bubbling emotions that her husband’s words would bring her. He always did hold the power to touch her heart.

Dear Mary:

You have made a difficult decision for our future and I confess that living like my parents isn't what I wished for us. You asked for time and space, and while there is nothing, I wouldn't do for you, this I find impossible. You shouldn't have to face your pain on your own when the people who love you are at your side.

I once made a vow; to pressure you, to argue with you and to love until my dying day and I will honor that no matter what.

You are my light Mary, and no matter how much darkness or distance comes between us, nothing will diminish that light. Know, that whatever the future brings, I will be by your side when you need me.

So, I will love you from a distance as long as it takes. I have always been more patient than you, even we were children.

I am here for you and I always will be.

Love, Francis.

She wiped away the few tears that had escaped her eyes and folded the letter, only to notice the writing at the back. Scribbled on the back of the page was a small note.

Look outside your window.

I wanted to show you fireflies but this is as close as I could get.

For our beloved daughter.

Mary folded the letter with a watery smile, her heart swelling at the sweet gesture. She opened the shutters to her window and let out a gasp, her hands coming to cover her mouth as she was overcome with emotions. The entire sky-line was lit with little bursts of flaming lanterns, casting a golden glow in the cold night sky. The light in the darkness, just like Francis had written.

She was reminded of two children who would outside on the south lawn for the fireflies in the summer, how the little girl would cry when they didn’t come but she had never given up hope. She had known that as long as her prince was with her, waiting for the fireflies together, no darkness could ever touch her.

Chapter Text

Two weeks passed by in a blur and by then most of the mess created by the attack was brushed under the rug. It was the end of January and the hope was that the rest of the year wouldn’t be as harsh as the beginning had proven to be. The rumor mill at court had already guessed that the Queen wouldn’t be giving birth in the near future and the family was thankful that they didn’t have to make an announcement. The House of Valois was not at it’s best at the moment; Catherine was acting strange; Claude had contracted a mysterious illness and the younger children had been sent away to their family estate in Anjou to keep them safe. Sebastian and Kenna were keeping the family from tearing apart by playing the mediators as it had become clear that their sovereigns were too lost to be of any use.

Francis was either locked away in his study with a mountain of paperwork or in the nursery with Lady Lola; she’d taken the role of mothering the two princes in the queen’s absence. Mary spent most of her time in her rooms, catching up on reports from Scotland, the state of her nation was not great and it was only a matter of time before she’d have to return or risk losing her crown. It felt like the entire castle was in mourning without knowing the cause; their King and Queen may put on a show of unity but those closest to them saw the cracks in their marriage.

The early morning found the Queen of France seated at her window, surrounded by thick blankets and dressed in her fur robe to keep out the chill. She was reading through her daily letters from Scotland and writing responses to her Regent. Her womb had finally healed completely and with the pain subsiding to a dull throbbing in her heart, she could pretend to move on from her loss. She had asked her husband for distance and while they were physically living separately, he didn’t miss a single chance to remind her of his unending support.

Her vanity held a vase of different flowers that Francis would have sent along with her breakfast; every morning since that night she would find a single flower on her breakfast tray accompanied by a note. At first, she had been angry at his persistence and had thrown away the blooms but as the days passed, she began to cherish the little tokens of affection and they became the highlight of her day. Today’s flower was a single blush pink rose and the note saying;

You have the heart of a warrior.

Never forget that.

The little messages were a comfort to her and a reminder that someone believed that she was more than her fears. She had begun to save those notes in her desk alongside her journal; Kenna had suggested keeping a journal where she could write down the most difficult parts of her day as a way to prove to herself that she could get past it. It was something Kenna did when Henry was slowly losing his mind and she was terrified of him.

A knock on her door made her drop her quill, she wasn’t expecting anyone. The door opened to reveal her husband with an armful of firewood, Mary rolled her eyes as he made the excuse of her cold hearth. He was silently tending to the fire and if his persistence wasn’t so irritating, it would be endearing to see the King of France and Scotland waiting on her as her personal servant.

“Francis this is not what I meant when I said separate lives.”

“I am not doing anything other than making sure you’re warm.”

“This has to stop; you coming here every other day with something to keep me comfortable won’t change anything.”

Francis stood up from his perch before the hearth and crossed his arms behind his back.

“I promised to give you the time and space you need but you cannot ask me not to worry about your welfare. You are my wife and you are still recovering, it is my duty to look after you.”

“I don’t want to give you false hope that things would go back to the way they were.”

The tightening of his eyes was the only indication that their conversation was bothering him.

“Trust me, I have no hope. And I didn’t just come to tend to the fire; you haven’t visited the nursery in two weeks. The boys are inconsolable and they want their mother, Lola is at her wit’s end. Please spend some time with them.”

Mary pushed down the guilt seeping from her dead heart, she knew what a terrible mother she was being but she couldn’t do it. Going near those perfect boys only ripped open her wounds, she feared her presence would taint them with her darkness too. She needed to leave, needed to get away from the suffocating expectations of the people around her.

“I was actually about to leave; I have yet to visit our chateau in Chambord. Getting away from the memories here would do me some good.”

A small smile graced her husband’s features and he stepped closer to her.

“We’ll go with you, just the four of us.”

“Actually… I was hoping to go alone.”

“Oh, I see. Well then, I’ll arrange extra guards for your protection. So, you have a safe journey.”

Francis left his wife’s bedchambers feeling defeated and disappointed. He held no hope of their reconciliation but he didn’t expect her to harden herself against their children’s needs. Mary was such a wonderful mother to their boys; nurturing and generous with her love, knowing that even that was tarnished made him realize how utterly damaged their family had become.

As if he wasn’t burdened enough, the Vatican was proving to create more problems at court. Their interference made them begin hunting every person with a certain brand, it was a baseless generalization and persecution of people who may or may not be innocent. What was even worse was that somehow the Prince of Conde was accused of having that brand. Whatever feelings he had for Mary, Francis believed that his cousin was a good man, he had no intention of harming anyone in France.

Which was why it was a relief to him when Bash told him that Mary helped Conde escape in her carriage to avoid an unjust punishment. He was worried about her safety but was ultimately proud of his wife, even after all she was going through, she was still fighting for what was right.

“Francis what will you do now?”

Bash observed his brother’s thoughtful expression, wondering what he was up to.

“I want to remove the Cardinal; Mary and I cannot rule with him hovering over our shoulders. If she’s fighting the Cardinal’s witch hunt then I will too.”

“But going to war against the Vatican?”

“Not war, just something to loosen their grip. So that when Mary returns; she sees the King she married and not the coward Narcisse forced me to be.”

Bash gave his brother a smile and gripped his arm in support.

“Well then, let’s get to work, shall we?”

Mary made her way upstairs with Greer at her heels. She was greatly regretting accepting King Antione’s invitation to his debauched party; she’d only agreed out of a diplomatic courtesy, it would’ve been seen as offensive for the Queen of France to refuse the hospitality of the King of Navarre. Especially considering France was Catholic while Navarre was Protestant, with the current climate it would not do well to create such friction only because she felt uncomfortable at such displays.

“The nerve of that man! Inviting the Queen of France to such a gathering.”

Greer scowled as she helped Mary out of her dress, her friend’s indignation on her behalf eased her tension.

“It’s alright Greer, Conde warned me that his brother was an adventurous man.”

“And you went anyway, Mary why would you push yourself like that? After what you’ve been through.”

“I didn’t want to offend King Antione; he is a royal consort with a claim to my husband’s throne. Catherine says he’s dangerously ambitious.”

After she had changed into her night gown and robe, Mary went to sit by the fire. She stared at the fire, deep in thought, soon her eyes started to burn as her frustration at herself washed over her. She pressed the heels of her palms over her eyelids to get rid of her tears. Greer came to sit beside her, her presence a balm to Mary in the moment.

“I feel so lost Greer; like I’m drowning and there’s no way out. I can’t stand to be near a man, or feel their touch.”

“It’s normal, after what you’ve endured, it will pass.”

“Will it? I wasn’t raped Greer, not really yet I still feel this way. No one can understand what I’m going through, it’s isolating.”

Greer tentatively placed her hand to hold Mary’s to offer her support.

“You are strong Mary; you will get through this. And in time all of this will be a distant memory.”

“I hope so Greer. Because I don’t like the person I am becoming. This distance that I’ve put between me and my family I hate it. My children needed me today and I ran away.”

“You are a good mother Mary, don’t be too hard on yourself. Just take it one day at a time and soon you won’t have to try so hard anymore.”

“I feel like I’m sleepwalking Greer; and I don’t know how to wake up.”

“If your heart wants to sleep then let it; you can’t force it to recover. Many things can be forced out of duty, but not the heart.”

The words brought a sob to her throat and all the tears she was keeping at bay burst out of her. Greer opened her arms to her friend and clutched her tightly in her embrace; Mary buried her head in her shoulder and wept.

They stayed together until the sound of the party began to die down. Greer took her leave to retire for the night while Mary got ready for bed as well, taking her medicines before sleeping was a routine now until the physician was certain that she’d healed from her miscarriage. She was just about to get under the covers when someone knocked at her door.

Louis was waiting outside her door after his encounter with Lady Adalie made him see how deeply he loved the queen. Mary opened the door, surprised at his presence at such an hour.

“Lord Conde, I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“I wanted to say goodbye, and express how grateful I am for your help today.”

Mary stepped back to let him inside.

“You have been so helpful to me in the past, it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

“I’m sorry for the party, I’m sure you don’t want to stay here long. Will you truly return to French Court after you leave Chambord?”

“Where else would I go?”

“You could return to Scotland, haven’t you ever wanted to go home?”

Mary gave him a smile at his concern but was ultimately nervous at being alone with him, she knew that he was a good man but her irrational fears didn’t stop.

“Scotland is facing just as much unrest if not more.”

“But in Scotland you don’t have a husband whose choices put you in danger!”

Louis voice was sharper and angrier than she’d ever heard.

“How dare you?”

“I pieced it together Mary, that day in the snow you were bleeding and then days later rumors began of your miscarriage. It was the attack, wasn’t it? They killed your child because of your husband.”

“You have no right to judge Francis! You have no idea what his motives were or how much he is suffering because of what happened to me. No matter what you believe, I love my husband.”

He took a step back when she screamed at him, her eyes shining with angry tears.

“I was just trying to look out for you.”

“Your concern for me is improper and I don’t trust it. Not after I know the truth of your heart; I read your letter.”

“Mary, I tried to get it back. I swear…”

“I know. Which is why I didn’t mention it before.”

“I had no intention to seduce you, I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I want to believe you Louis I do; but your anger towards Francis makes it difficult.”

Louis mulled over her words in his head before sighing in defeat and nodding at his Queen.

“You’re right. I have no true knowledge of your marriage and it is wrong of me to comment on it.”

“Thank you.”

Then, the Prince of Conde bowed to the Queen and bid her farewell. He hoped that the next time he saw her she would be happier than she was now.

As fate would have it, their next meeting was the very next morning when the Cardinal’s representatives surrounded Antione’s estate demanding he surrender his brother to be punished. Mary; in a stroke of painful brilliance suggested that they burn the mark on his shoulder to remove the evidence. It would give them the chance to return to court where the King could jump in on their behalf.

She was mesmerizing; the way she stood up for him and taunted the delegation. If his brother wasn’t watching with a hawk’s eye then Louis might’ve fallen at her feet in gratitude. Mary was a true Queen; one that men would willingly throw themselves into the fire for.

The gates to Chateau de Fontainebleau opened for the Queen’s carriage and Mary Stuart stepped out with a renewed sense of purpose. The rush of power that came today after defying the Vatican reminded her of the Queen she was when she first came to court, touching Conde gave her the courage to make a human connection. If she could touch Louis to ease his suffering then she can surely touch her husband. Perhaps it was time to step up instead of burying her head in the sand.

Her heart filled with even more hope when she saw the Cardinal and his delegation leaving, hearing Bash say that it was Francis’s doing brought a smile to her face that was mirrored in Greer.

“See Mary, even so far apart you and Francis were working in tandem.”

She rushed off to find her husband; not noticing the dark stare of Louis following her. Mary made her way to the nursery; his page told her that he was with the babies. When she opened the door to the nursery, Mary’s smile faltered at the sight that welcomed her.

 There was a small bed in the nursery; she’d had it moved when the twins were still adjusting to sleeping away and she would have to sleep with them. Lola and Francis were laying on the bed, fast asleep with all three of their sons. Jean was laying on his mother’s chest while James was sleeping in Francis’s arms; Edward was laying in the small space between them. The Duke of Rothsay was wide awake and cooed at the sight of her, he raised his arms and wiggled his little body to sit up.

Mary quickly picked him up before he woke everyone else; she tried to dismiss the jealousy that crept up at the sight of her husband and her friend in bed together. She knew there was nothing untoward going on, nothing to be suspicious about but it still hurt to see them behaving like a family.

Even though they were not very loud, Francis woke up the second that Edward’s body left the bed. He sat up slowly but his eyes widened in alarm when he saw his wife. He opened his mouth to explain himself, he was aware how bad the situation would look but Mary shook her head at him. She placed Edward in his crib and picked up James so that her husband could get up. She put the sleeping baby back in bed next to Lola, before coming to kiss her second born whispering to him.

“Mama and Papa are going to talk but we’ll be back soon.”

The baby might have only understood a few words but he didn’t cry when they left the room so they took that as a win. Mary led her husband to their balcony so they could speak privately without fear of being overheard.

“Mary I am so sorry for what you saw, I promise this was nothing more than two very exhausted parents.”

“It’s alright Francis.”

“You don’t look like it’s alright.”

Mary’s face was pinched like it was when she forced false smiles for the nobles at court.

“It’s just… seeing you together like that reminded me of a happier time. Of the life that we had before…”

“Before the horrors I brought into our lives.”

Francis finished her sentence with a resignation that made her heart clench. She stepped closer to him, ignoring the anxiety creeping up her body she held his hand.

“Mary what are you doing?”

“I touched Louis today.”

She admitted softly and saw how his nostrils flared at the thought of her touching another man.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought I couldn’t stand the touch of a man ever again, but when he was in pain, I touched him to ease his suffering. I made a human connection and it made me realize that if I can touch him then I can touch you.”

Francis was completely still; his heart pounding loudly in his chest at his wife’s words. It brought him hope to feel her skin after so long. Mary dropped his hand and raised her palm to cup his cheek, feeling his warmth and hearing his breath leave in puffs. The sound of his breathing brought back those terrible memories and fear crept up her spine.

“Mary stop! You’re shaking.”

He stepped away from her touch; her eyes were widened in terror and her entire body trembled.

“I would do anything to fix things between us but I will not make you force yourself into something you are not ready for.”

“You don’t understand Francis, I have to do this. I have to push past my fears or I will never get better. I just want to be okay again.”

“And you will but we don’t have to rush anything. We can take it as slow as you need.”

He held out his hands for her, it was a second before she took them but didn’t move closer to cover the distance between them.

“It’s just the sound of your breathing, it brings back memories.”

“This is enough for now; if I only get to hold your hand for the rest of our lives; I’ll die happy.”

Mary shook her head at the romantic sentiment.

“Be serious.”

“I am. Mary, I loved you way before we kissed, I fell in love with your heart. I won’t lie, making love to you makes me happy but I would be just as content listening to you talk all day.”

“You truly mean that.”

Francis squeezed her hand a little, his eyes crinkling with affection.

“I love you and I would wait for you, as long as it takes.”

“You would have to be very patient; it might be a long time.”

Mary’s anxiety withered away without her noticing how long she had been holding his hand; she beamed at him.

“I am a very patient man.”

His grin matched her own, Mary couldn’t remember the last time she had truly smiled and it brought her hope. Maybe she could still have the future she had envisioned for them. Maybe she was not as broken as she believed and even if she was, she had wonderful people around who were there to pick up the pieces, to catch her when she fell.

Chapter Text

Days passed since Mary vowed to try; and while there was some tension in the beginning with reconnecting with her babies, Mary managed to make things work. She was still not ready to share her room with her husband again and she could see that the illusion of separate bedchambers was stirring up gossip that hurt Francis, even if he never mentioned it to her outright. Since she began joining the family for breakfast again, her daily tokens were now delivered before she woke. Today; her husband had left her a Hyacinth with soft petals and his note brought a flush to her cheeks.

-The universe was made just to be seen by your eyes.

Whenever she asked Francis where he was getting those messages; he would smile mischievously but never answer. She had asked her ladies to add the flower to her braid that morning; she was helping Francis distribute Narcisse’s land today and seeing her appreciating his gift would make him happy and less likely to murder the bastard.

Lord Narcisse was leaning over the maps to his holdings when she reached her husband’s study; sharing the details of the accounts with the king. Mary’s hands itched with the need to claw his face after all the suffering he had caused but she kept her impulses to herself, seeing him squirm as he gave away his wealth was almost as satisfying.

“Lord Narcisse! How lovely to see you finally cooperating and helping us for a change.”

Stephane turned to her with a scowl.

“Queen Mary, you seem in high spirits.”

“Watching you carve off your empire has that effect, remind me again; which crime did you confess to?”

“Embezzlement, your majesty. I am guilty of taking funds from the crown.”

“Ah! Embezzlement; a suitable choice for someone of your stature. If you had been guilty of, say; blackmailing us. We would’ve taken your lands and your head.”

The Lord bowed to his Queen and King with clenched teeth.

“I am grateful for your mercy, your majesties.”

Mary turned to her husband; who was leaning against his seat and watching the exchange with thinly veiled glee.

“Francis; I think it’s time the king takes trusted council, as such Lord Narcisse should be outside the door.”

The King smirked at his wife; she was clearly enjoying toying with the man just as much as he was.

“Thank you for your assistance; Narcisse, you may go.”

The Queen watched him leave with sharp eyes and only turned to her husband when the door had completely closed and they were all alone.

“I’m guessing the best parcels of land will go to Narcisse’s allies; they won’t follow us blindly; we’ll have to buy them off.”

“I’ve already signed off on that, these are vast holdings and I am thinking of gifting some of these lands to the protestants they were originally taken from.”

Mary pulled a chair to sit across from Francis on his desk, she studied the lands he was alluding to carefully.

“We’ll have to make sure to send the right message regarding the protestants, especially so soon after the attack.”

Francis had established himself as a brutal King to cross after the attack and while the violence wasn’t something she enjoyed; she wasn’t naive enough to think that it wasn’t necessary. As long as their people loved and feared them with equal measure, their reign would be secure.

“You’re right, which is why I will only give them to protestants who have proven their loyalty to us.”

“Like Lord Conde you mean. He has been nothing but loyal, he kept my secret when he had no reason to.”

Francis frowned at the mention of his cousin, he scratched his chin thoughtfully at her suggestion.

“He is loyal to you, not to the crown. We both know how he feels about me.”

“I didn’t tell you what he said to me so you’d find reasons to hate him.”

He sighed at her annoyed tone.

“I don’t hate him; I am just worried that a noble with a claim to my throne is discontent with the way I rule and instead of discussing it with me, he is harassing my wife.”

Mary glared at her husband at his particular choice of words.

“He is not harassing me; he was expressing concern.”

“What about his letter? Was that concern too? Sneaking a love letter under your door like that was dangerous. If the wrong person read it, it could’ve endangered your life.”

“Francis you’re overreacting! You are both being stubborn fools and I am so tired of it.”

Her husband’s eyes softened at her distress and he relaxed his posture, holding out his arm across the table in a silent offering, Francis smiled when she accepted his touch.

“What do you suggest I do?”

“Start with the new holdings, then invite him for a drink and talk. Let your cousin see the kind of King you truly are.”

“While I don’t share your optimism, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have more allies.”

Whatever retort Mary was about to give at his agreement was left unheard as a messenger interrupted them with information regarding Lady Castleroy. The Queen read through the message and rushed off to find her lady and friend. The accusation against her was seriously disturbing and Mary wanted to hear it from Greer herself.

The next morning after breakfast, Mary made her way to the castle courtyard. She had sent a messenger to Conde’s country home but when she learned of his return to court on business, she decided to share the news of his new estate in person. Louis had just dismounted from his horse when the object of his frustrating desire strode towards him in a beautiful white gown, her raven hair was arranged in an intricate braid that was decorated with small red flowers. He had heard from the servants that she was receiving an enormous number of flowers recently and it irked him to know that they were probably from her husband.

“Louis! Welcome back to court, I hope you will stay for the Winter Ball. I know it’s a bit later in the season but with the tensions high, you understand.”

He smiled at the flush on her cheeks and nose from the cold.

“Did you get my letter?”

“Yes, and while I’m honored that you thought of me; I can’t accept these lands.”

Mary frowned at his dismissal and followed him inside the hallway, away from the chilly wind.

“Why can’t you accept it? It’s a gift from your King.”

Louis scowl deepened at the mention of his cousin.

“I don’t want anything from Francis.”

Mary reached forward to clutch his arm to get his complete attention, displeasure clear in her pursed lips.

“Louis; we talked about this, your animosity towards him has to end. Can’t you see that he’s trying to make amends?”

He scoffed and pulled away from her grip.

“Making amends is not the same as buying my loyalty. I hold no respect for the man, not after all the bloodshed he caused because he was too afraid to anger a few nobles.”

“The circumstances surrounding his decisions were complicated, but he’s trying to be a better leader.”

Francis was a lucky bastard that would never deserve a wife so perfect in Louis’s opinion and hearing his sweet Mary make excuses for the man made him sick.

“Please stop Mary, I can’t hear you defend him anymore, for once I’d like to see him defend himself.”

A few things shifted in Mary’s posture at his words. At first, she was taken aback by the resentment in Louis’s words but then something flashed in her eyes and they narrowed. Her chin was raised and her jaw clenched while she spat the words like fire.

“Defend himself? Francis doesn’t need to defend himself to you; he is your King! Your purpose is to serve him with loyalty, not question his choices for the world to see.”

Mary stepped closer to him and spoke the next few words softly.

“I know you care about me Louis, but if you wish to remain my friend then you will give my husband the respect that he deserves.”

While Louis had no intention of sucking up to his tyrant cousin, he couldn’t have falling-out with Mary. Not only was he hopelessly in love, he also had a mission that involved getting her away from Francis so she’d confide in him. She won’t be easy to seduce but he realized that he couldn’t get her to fall for him if he antagonized her every time they talked.

“Alright, I will do as you say.”

Louis’s promise to Mary lasted only as long as his next meeting with the king. It was at the celebrations, Francis approached him while he was watching the Quarter Staff match being displayed for their enjoyment.  The arrogance with which he walked towards him, wine glass in hand and his ridiculous hair made him want to smack the superiority away. He stood next to him in his opulent white clothing that matched the enchanting dress Mary wore. Francis addressed his cousin with barely controlled rage.

“I hear you have issues with my rule.”

“Excuse me?”

“You refuse my offers of lands? Of diplomacy, for what? You have a problem with the way I handle discord?”

“I have questioned a few of your acts of oppression as of late.”

“Do you know where I hear your complaints?”

“Mary tells you.”

Louis stated nonchalantly, but soon regretted it when Francis turned his sharp gaze to him.

“Yes; My wife tells me. Mary and I have no secrets between us.”

The King leaned closer to his cousin, his voice dropping to a whisper before continuing.

“This obsession you have with my wife needs to stop cousin. She may be too kind to suspect you but I have no qualms about having you punished for trying to seduce my Queen.”

The words; my Queen were said with such possessiveness that Louis couldn’t help himself.

“You have a lot of nerve questioning my intentions. I am only looking after her welfare; someone has to protect her. Seeing as her husband has failed in that task completely.”

Francis closed his eyes and inhaled; he prayed for patience. He could not kill his Conde for his words no matter how much he wanted to, this was a celebration and the entire court was present.

“I warn you cousin; your words are ignorant and unwise.”

Louis merely smirked in response.

“Why don’t we leave our words aside and air our differences sportingly. You play Quarter Staff, your majesty?”

The celebration was soon halted; the audience watching with bated breath as the King of France and Prince of Conde faced off with their wooden staffs.  At first the fight could be dismissed as two men engaging in friendly sporting but it became clear to the entire court that there was discontentment between them when the prince decked his cousin in the face.

Francis glared at Louis at his audacity, he ignored the sting in his cheek and charged forward with his staff with a new vigor. His attacks becoming more and more aggressive until he blocked Louis’s blows and used his shock to jam his foot at his staff, breaking the wood cleanly in half. Francis pushed Louis away with a scowl and turned to meet his wife’s eyes across the room.

Mary had observed the fighting with equal parts worry and indignation; this blatant display of male ego had done nothing but stir harmful gossip. The way that Louis had looked at her after making her husband bleed made it obvious that the cause of their animosity was her. While she was glad that Francis won; she couldn’t help but give him a look of disapproval when he locked gazes with her. He frowned at her before leaving the festivities altogether, giving her no choice but to follow after him.

At first, neither husband nor wife spoke a word; Francis sat still on the chair in his study while his wife silently wiped his cut cheek with a damp rag. The creasing of her forehead betraying her emotions; while Mary didn’t want to scold him like a child, she was greatly displeased with his actions that evening.

“I am sorry; I shouldn’t have let him provoke me.”

“And yet you did.”

“I saw you two talking in the courtyard today and I had to confront him, but I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand.”

Mary shook her head at the hopeless situation, tossing away the rag before meeting his eye.

“You should’ve been the bigger man. Francis; what could he have possibly said to rile you so badly?”

“He questioned my ability to protect you, I know that I failed you but to hear it from him…”

Francis had closed his eyes to hide the shame he felt at his failure from his wife; she leaned closer to him and ran her fingers through his hair to sooth him.

“Oh Francis! He is wrong; you did protect me. Louis was way out of line and I will talk to him; make him see reason.”

His head snapped in attention; he immediately rejected the idea.

“Absolutely not! No more talking to him, the entire court is talking about his attachment to you. You can’t be seen going anywhere near him.”

“The court is talking because of you; your anger and jealousy caused this!”

Mary retorted, she would not obey him, Louis cared about her and she just wasn’t ready to let him go. There were very few people right now that made her feel safe and she wasn’t about to jeopardize that to stop some inconsequential tongues from wagging.

“Mary, try to understand the severity of the situation; when you heal as I have every faith that you will, any rumor of infidelity would put doubt in the parentage of our child. Doubts like these cause wars, wars that end with Queens getting beheaded.”

Francis could see that she wanted to argue further and he reached for her hand to calm her with his soft caress.

“You and I both know that our heirs were conceived before we wed; you have spoken time and time again how we can never let anyone question your virtue.”

“I did say that, but what does it matter now? We’ve been married for more than a year now.”

“It would only take one noble mentioning your engagement to Bash to paint you as someone I know you are not.”

“Francis believe me, I have no intention of doing anything that would mark me as unfaithful but I will not allow your fears to police who I give my friendship to.”

He exhaled in frustration; Mary was so loyal and protective toward people who earned her trust. He knew it would be next to impossible to convince her to end her friendship with his cousin but he owed it to her to warn her of all the terrible repercussions.

“I just want to keep the people I love safe.”

Mary reached the hand he wasn’t holding to cup his cheek, the soft pads of her fingers caressing the roughness of his sparse beard.

“I know, darling. And no matter what anyone says, you have protected us fiercely.”

They sat there in silence for a while, merely holding hands and drawing comfort from the other’s presence.  Moments like these gave Mary the hope that maybe someday she would feel safe enough in her skin to love her husband the way he deserved, that someday she will let go of her guilt and fears to be the mother that James and Edward wanted her to be.

The King and Queen rejoined the celebrations hand in hand in unison; the onlookers were full of anticipation at how they would respond to the scandal that was the competition. The first thing Mary did was ask Lola to present herself as a suitable match for Louis; she was beautiful and smart, Mary hoped that giving the prince a chance to find happiness with someone would curb his urge to defy her husband like he has.

When Mary returned from her conversation with Lola, the floor was cleared of courtiers and only her husband remained. At first, she was a bit confusion but her frown quickly transformed into a smile when the musicians began playing a familiar melody. She crossed over to take her husband’s hand, letting him pull her into a dance and while she loved that he kept his distance to prevent them from touching to much, she wished for the day when he’d no longer have to hold back.

“I can’t believe you remember this song!”

“I could never forget that day; dancing under the stars of the Louvre Palace. Your beauty outshining the entire night sky.”

“I liked the ceremony at Notre-dame too.”

Mary admitted to her husband, remembering their wedding vows and the support of everyone that mattered. The love shining in his eyes as they became man and wife after so much strife and hurt.

“That’s only because I cried.”

Francis’s admission resulted in a triumphant shriek from his wife, many nobles had joined in the dancing and some looked at the Queen’s outburst with amusement. It was clear that their dance had put a rest to any unsettling rumours.

“I knew it! You have denied it for a year but I knew those were tears.”

“I just couldn’t believe my fortune; marrying you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

She teared up at his heartfelt confession but just as she was gathering the courage to lean into her husband’s embrace, they were interrupted by some terrible news.

Her friend and lady, Greer Castleroy was connected to the protestant attack on their castle and no matter how hard she and Francis tried they couldn’t save her. After much persuasion, Greer and Aloysius were allowed to keep their lives but under the condition that they would forfeit their wealth. Greer lost her position as Mary’s lady, their farewell heart wrenchingly tearful. Mary didn’t know what would happen to her lady after tonight but she prayed that Greer would find a way to survive the terrible situation; and eventually forgive her for not doing more to help.

That night, Francis came to visit his wife while she was readying herself for bed. He knew that the night’s events caused her pain, she was slowly losing her Scottish ladies to French politics and he hated that.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for Greer.”

Mary was seated before her vanity combing her hair when she heard him, turning around she met his gaze solemnly.

“Me too… my ladies have had such a hard time at court. Sometimes I wish I’d never brought them here so they’d be spared. I am just so tired of losing the people I love.”

“Is that why you don’t want to stop seeing Conde? Because you feel like you’re losing your friends?”

“In a way, I just feel so alone sometimes, like no one is in my corner.”

Francis kneeled in front of his wife, seating himself on the floor at her feet.

“You have me, you will always have me.”

“I know; but sometimes France needs you more than I do. Is it wrong to want something that’s just my own? To have someone who’d put me above anything.”

It was selfish of Mary to say that to him but she couldn’t help but unburden herself before him.

“I wish more than anything that I could put you and our family above our nations but we can’t. We are royalty, we have so many luxuries yet are bound by duty.”

Maybe someday, after their children were old enough to rule, they could abdicate and settle in a cottage. Somewhere warm and beautiful where they would have no duties except those that they vowed for one another.

Mary got up from her seat with a sigh; there was no point in talking like this. Happiness is the one thing we Queens can never have. She remembered when Catherine had said that to her and it was becoming more and more true with every passing day. Francis observed his wife with furrowed brows, wanting to ease her burden in some way but not knowing.

“Would it be okay if I stayed with you tonight? No expectations; just to watch over you as you sleep. To keep you company so you don’t feel so alone.”

He gestured to the divan beside her bed with a rueful smile.

“I could sleep here, happily.”

Mary contemplated the offer for a while before her lips curved up and she nodded in agreement.

“Thank you; Francis, I’d like that.”

And so, after weeks of separation and distance following their trauma, Mary and Francis slept in the same bedchamber. While they had a long way to go before, they could return to the kind of intimacy they enjoyed before, it was a step in the right direction. As long as they kept taking those small steps forward, they had hope for a brighter future.

Chapter Text

Night after night; following the Winter Ball, Francis would sleep on the divan in his wife’s room. While it was extremely uncomfortable and not as close as he’d like to be, he was happy at the progress they’d made in the past few weeks. Just last night, Mary had allowed their nine-month-old princes to sleep on the bed with her. Not much sleeping had occurred between the parents or the babies; James and Edward had recently started to take wobbly steps and they were taking full advantage of the soft bed to show off their skill for their mother. The night passed by with giggles and laughter, the babies only fell asleep near dawn when they’d finally tired themselves and their parents.

It was just after breakfast when Prince Conde came to them with the news that his older brother, King Antione of Navarre would be coming to court for a routine visit. Louis pointedly avoided meeting their eyes for very long; after the scandal that was the Winter Ball, Mary kept her distance from Louis and even encouraged him to court Lola. As far as anyone knew, the handsome couple was greatly enjoying their time together but it felt like both of their hearts were elsewhere.

That afternoon, Mary was getting ready to receive Antione in the throne room when her husband entered the chambers with a large scroll in his hand.

“Are you sure it’s a routine visit? My last meeting with the man was very unsettling, I’m not sure he can be trusted.”

Francis frowned at the reminder of Mary’s visit to Antoine’s residence; the way she had mentioned her experience made it clear that the man had very outrageous tastes when it came to entertainment. He was not sure what kind of trouble his cousin would cause at French Court; one Bourbon was enough to get on his nerves.

“My ambassadors confirm that he came to pay respects to the new King and renegotiate peace treaties.”

Mary pointed to the scroll in his hands.

“What is that?”

Her question made him perk up and he almost skipped to her, opening up the paper to reveal a map and placed it on her desk.

“It’s an enclave of the Loire Valley; the best vineyards and orchards in France are there, it’s filled with luscious greenery and beautiful streams. The poets call it the Eden of France.”

Mary smiled at her husband’s enthusiasm.

“That sounds beautiful Francis, but…”

“I know how difficult things have been for you and with the court readying for Spring, I couldn’t help but thinking about giving us a new beginning too.”

Francis beckoned her closer so he could show her the abandoned chateau that initially piqued his interest in the area. He shared his plans to expand the property to convert it into a vacation home for their family, a place for them to escape the pressures of court. A place for Mary to get away from the bad memories that the castle held for her, a place for her to heal without anything impeding her recovery.

“I want us to have a place we can escape to, somewhere that’s just ours.”

Mary leaned her head against his shoulder and held his hand, he was so thoughtful and loving with her, trying so hard to help her get past her fears. But she couldn’t help but worry that his hope would be crushed when he realized the extent of the demons in her head.

“But what if we go there and things don’t get better? What if I can’t go back to the woman you fell in love with?”

Francis smiled at her and reached his and up to smooth her wrinkled forehead, his fingers lingering on the white lilies adorning her hair and reveled in the fact that not once did she flinch at his touch.

“Mary you can never go back to that girl; and that’s okay because I find myself falling for you every day, I love every version of you.”

“I am trying so hard.”

“I know, my love and I have every faith in you. You are a survivor and the strongest person I know.”

King Antoine was a shrewd and ambitious man, that much was clear in his demeanor as he demanded they pay up for French refugees in Navarre with such honeyed words that both Francis and Mary were disarmed by his charm. They retired to the king’s study to go over the details of the situation. They were in the middle of discussing a peaceful outcome when Catherine de Medici stormed into the room.

“Don’t even think about giving him a dime. French refugees in Navarre, what a joke. More like he threw away all his money and his wife cut off his purse strings.”

Mary immediately opened her mouth to argue when Catherine stood behind her son, gripping his shoulder to emphasize her point.

“How many times have your father and I warned you about the Bourbons? They are not your friends, and you would be a fool to lower your guard around them. Henry didn’t thin out their supporters so you’d let them get close to you.”

“Louis is a Bourbon, and he has been nothing but loyal to us.”

Mary’s protest was met with a scoff from her mother-in-law but her husband nodded in agreement.

“Conde doesn’t have any inclination towards my throne nor an interest in politics. Antoine on the other hand is an ambitious bastard, he got his throne by marrying the Queen of Navarre, he’s the one we should be worried about.”

“So, we’re in agreement, refuse the man and send him packing.”

“No Mother, I will first find out the truth and investigate what is really happening in Navarre.”

While Catherine was dissatisfied by the decision but Francis could tell that his wife was pleased with his approach. He had no intention of letting Antoine bring any threat to his sovereignty but he wouldn’t condemn him because of bad blood between their families in the past, his decisions would always be based on facts and rationality.

Francis and Mary soon went on their separate ways to attend to their duties. Mary was helping Kenna with the Winter Ease Ball tomorrow and while Kenna was perfectly capable of handling things on her own, Mary wanted to keep her company. Bash had confided in Francis about his rocky relationship with Kenna and not one to keep secrets from his wife, the king had spilled the beans to Mary about the details of their fight. Mary was trying to help her friend navigate the situation without making things worse. Kenna could be her own worst enemy and the last thing she needed was to do something to hurt Bash even more. Which was why she approached her after she saw Kenna on a stroll with Antoine.

“Kenna, where have you been? I thought we were meeting for tea to discuss the seating chart for tomorrow.”

Kenna tried to be evasive in her answer but stopped when she noticed the knowing look in her friend’s eyes.

“You saw us; it was completely harmless. Antoine was being a bit inappropriate at first but I put a stop to it.”

“The fact that you are addressing the King of Navarre by his given name is not doing you any favors.”

Mary remarked.

“You don’t get to judge, not after your friendship with the Prince of Conde.”

Kenna’s words were harsh but true, Mary reached for her hand, squeezing it in a show of solidarity.

“It’s not about judgement Kenna; Antoine is clever and we can’t be sure of his intentions so please be careful.”

“I always am Mary; I’ve learned to look after myself.”

The rest of the passed by quickly with the shocking news of Catherine’s illness. Mary had sprinted into Catherine’s chambers when she heard her screaming out for Francis; her heart had leapt into her throat at the mere thought of something terrible happening to her husband. Francis dying was one of the greatest fears she had, she had once changed the course of nations just to save his life. Mary had long ago admitted that her decision to marry Bash and changing the line of succession was a selfish one. She wasn’t sacrificing her happiness so that Francis may live, she was ruining his life to save herself from the grief that his loss would bring her.

Those dark thoughts were clouding her mind for hours; when it was time for bed and she saw her husband getting ready to sleep on that uncomfortably small divan, her heart protested at the distance between them. Hearing Catherine mentioning Nostradamus’s prophecy brought her back to the time when all she cared about was that she couldn’t bare to lose him, especially with the knowledge that she was at fault for his demise. She needed him close tonight, needed to know that he was alive next to her and feel his warmth through the night. Mary picked up the courage to broach the subject.

“I wanted to thank you; for all you’ve done for me and all you’re doing. For being patient with me.”

He looked up from adjusting his pillow to smile at her.

“The new chateau isn’t just for you, it’s for all of us.”

“And it’s a wonderful idea but I’m not just talking about that; I mean that you’re happy sleeping on this divan, night after night. Close enough that I don’t feel alone and far enough that it doesn’t make me uneasy.”

Francis sat down, warmth melting his azure eyes, the love reserved just for her and their children.

“We’ll do things in our own time, my love. There’s no need to rush, if you want me to sleep here for the rest of the year, I won’t object.”

“It just seems silly, doesn’t it? For you to be so uncomfortable when there’s a perfectly good bed here, big enough for both of us.”

Mary was hesitant with her request, unsure of his reaction.

“You mean tonight?’

“Unless you’ve grown fond of that spot, in which case…”

Francis was already up, slowly walking over to his side of the bed. The molten blue of his eyes had darkened into a color she was very familiar with, the heat of his gaze made her cheeks flush and her heart hammer in anxiety.

“I only mean for us to sleep.”

Her husband lowered his gaze before nodding his head.

“Of course, darling. Good night.”

At first, his presence brought her the comfort she needed to close her eyes and give into the exhaustion of the day. Sometime in the middle of the night, Mary’s eyes opened when she was startled by the sound of soft snores. His breathing was heavy in his sleep and she tried to calm her mind by remining herself that the sounds were coming from Francis, this was her husband, the man she loved and the man who saved her. He would never cause her any harm and yet, every time she closed her eyes she could see Severin hovering above her, the venom in his eyes as he brutally killed her unborn child and the sound of his heavy breaths.

Hold her down! Let’s see how this bitch likes being on her back.

Mary jumped out of the bed in terror when she couldn’t take it anymore, her movement jostling her husband awake. She was curled up on the divan, her arms around her to hold herself together. She was shaking and her eyes were wet with unshed tears of fear and frustration. Francis got out of the bed but kept his distance, he could see how scared she was.

“What happened?”

“I am so sorry; it’s just… the sound of a man’s breath next to me brought back those memories.”

“Mary…”

He whispered into the night; he hated feeling so helpless and unable to bring his wife the comfort she needed.

“I wanted this, to feel you next to me… I needed this to work.”

She cried out.

“What can I do to help?”

Mary sniffed and looked up at him.

“There’s nothing you can do, nothing that will help.”

“I can tell you that what happened to you was a horrible nightmare. The nightmare is over now, and the men who hurt you will burn in hell for eternity.”

Francis opened his arms in invitation; offering his comfort if she wanted it. Mary slowly walked over to him and accepted his warm embrace with a sob. Her cheeks resting on his neck, his skin becoming damp with her tears but he only pulled her closer, stroking the back of her head. He held his wife silently for what felt like hours before she pulled away while wiping away the tear tracks on her face.

Francis returned to his place on the divan while Mary curled up under the covers, he watched over her until her breathing evened out. Tonight was enough to make them both see that there was no point in pushing themselves before they were ready.

While their night had not gotten the way they’d wanted, Francis and Mary had gotten closer after their shared moment of comfort. It was clear to see by everyone at the Winter Ease Ball that evening when the King and Queen danced together with nothing but joy in their smiles. The Queen seemed to feel lighter than ever and she was practically glowing in her wine-colored gown, her hair swept up elegantly and adorned with red and purple carnations.

At this point everyone at court was aware that the blooms in the Queen’s hair were gifts from her husband, this had created a trend where many noble ladies would demand flowers from their husbands. Not everyone was the King of France and not everyone had access to fresh flowers in such cold weather and Francis could admit that he enjoyed that he’d set a standard for romance at court.

As fate would have it, nothing good could last for monarchs of two nations. When Lord Narcisse pulled the King and Queen aside to share the result of his investigations it shattered their good mood. King Antoine truly did need money because of the French refugees but what was even worse was the rumor that England had offered them the help they needed. In exchange for helping Navarre, Queen Elizabeth wanted to place troops in Navarre, making it easy to attack France. If they refused Antoine and he accepted England’s offer, they could invade France at any moment they chose.

They needed to find out if the information was true before making any decision and there was only one person who could give them confirmation. Mary swallowed a grimace at what she was about to do but she knew that it was the only option she had.

“You are asking me to spy on my brother? Why would I do that?”

Louis demanded.

“I know it’s a lot to ask and it puts you in a terrible position, but it concerns the security of this country.”

Mary tried to explain the urgency of her request.

“No; absolutely not.”

She was taken aback by his blunt refusal, not once since she had known him had Louis been so short with her and she didn’t like how it made her feel. She knew that this would be hard, they hadn’t talked much following the scandalous match with Francis but she had hoped that he cared about his country.

“Louis this is about France.”

“You have meddled in my personal life enough but I won’t betray my family for you. You don’t reciprocate my feelings; you made that clear when you began flaunting your romance in my face…”

“I did no such thing!”   

Louis didn’t acknowledge her outburst.

“Don’t take advantage of my affection for you, don’t treat me as if we’re intimate when we’re not. If you really want information then hear this; I don’t know what Antoine is doing with England but if I were you, I’d give him the money he wants. He is like all Kings; he can be bought.”

Louis stormed off, not bothering to look back. Mary was disappointed at the events and she caught her husband’s eye across the hallway, shaking her head she made her way to him. It seemed that they’d have to confront the King of Navarre directly.

That night, after the party had died down and after their meeting with Antoine, Mary and Francis retired to her chambers. Hearing Antoine confirm that Elizabeth wanted her gone was a blow, a reminder that she would look over her shoulder for England all her life. Her claim to the English throne had made her a target since the moment she drew breath and now the decisions her and Francis made to protect their family had made Elizabeth their enemy for life.

“What could I do to made Elizabeth believe that I don’t want her throne? That I don’t wish to topple her, I just want to be left in peace.”

Francis left his perch on the desk to walk over to her near the fireplace, he had been pouring over the map to the chateau that they couldn’t build anymore. Not after the money that they’d have to pay to Navarre.

“There’s nothing you can do to convince her. For the rest of our lives, we will be her enemies. All because I had to kill my mad father, I tried to save us and what good did it do except ruined everything.”

“It’s never going to end, is it? For the rest of my life, I will be looking over my shoulder for her. I won’t even get the illusion of safety.”

Francis couldn’t stand to hear the pain in her voice and it pierced his heart to know that his actions were responsible for it.

“I know that I can’t take back the decisions I made but I am doing everything I can to fix things. Our alliance was to protect you and Scotland and I will honor that, I believe that we will get past this.”

Mary’s frown deepened at his words and she sighed in defeat.

“I thought so too, last night you held me and I believed that I would get better. But now, all I see is that no matter how hard I try things will get worse. If it’s not a nightmare than it’s England, if not that then merely hearing you breathe sets me off.”

“Mary it will take time for things to get better, and in the mean time I am here for you. Isn’t that what marriage is? For better or for worse?”

The earnestness on his features made her sacrifice even more difficult but she had to do what was best for him.

“I am so tired Francis! I am tired of trying to let go of all this guilt and fear, and every time I think I’m free of those memories, I look at you and they come flooding back. Your face is a constant reminder of the worst moment of my life, a reminder that you saw me like that.”

“Please Mary, whatever you are about to say, don’t.”

“I have been so selfish; making you wait for me, the woman you love is dead Francis. I am drowning but I won’t pull you in with me, I refuse to make you as miserable as I am.”

“But separate lives? It won’t work for us, the danger of that still stands. I will not let anything harm you, not even rumors.”

Mary’s lips curled in a sad smile at his protectiveness and she made her way to sit beside him in front of the roaring hearth.

“I want you to be free, to find love and happiness with someone who can love you the way you deserve. Kings have done it in the past.”

He turned to her with eyes gleaming in sorrow, her face was blotchy with red rimmed eyes and he could see that she was in just as much agony as he was.

“How can you send me to another?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her hand rising to cup his cheek, her thumb caressing the soft wisps on his skin.

“Because I love you and I’d do anything for you. Even if it means stepping aside for someone better.”

Mary leaned forward to place a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth before getting up.

“I’m going to spend the night in the nursery, you can stay here for now.”

The message was clear; this was the last night Francis would spend in his wife’s chambers. Mary left the room as quickly as possible; it was only when she reached the doors of the nursery, did she remove the hand covering her mouth to muffle her cries. A loud sob echoed through the empty corridor as the Queen of Scots fell to her knees against the wooden door, her whimpering cries disappearing in the darkness.

She had truly done it, set her husband free from their vows. She didn’t know what their marriage would look like now, how she’d stand watching him love another woman but she knew one thing, there was nothing that she wouldn’t do for Francis.

Chapter Text

It was a lovely day at French Court; the sun was becoming warmer as the days became longer and soon the winter snows would start melting. As such, as Snow Day was planned for the courtiers; filled with sleighing and hot beverages for everyone to enjoy. Mary and her ladies had dragged their sleighs up a mount of snow on the castle grounds before climbing on. Ignoring the protests of Catherine and the nannies, Mary suggested the babies to enjoy the activity too. Edward was curled tight with his mother just like Jean was with Lola. Kenna had gotten the privilege of sleighing with the Dauphin of France; little James was wiggling in his Aunt’s lap in glee.

As soon as the sleigh began sliding down, the laughter and giggles of the ladies and the boys echoed throughout the clearing. Edward was clapping his hands in delight and Mary had to tighten her grip to keep him safe while he enjoyed himself. After two rides, they decided to take a break and enjoy some hot cocoa.

Mary and Kenna walked over to the serving table and grabbed their mugs of the sweet beverage. Edward tried to paw at his mother’s drink and pouted when he was denied, the Queen sneakily dipped her finger in the cocoa and offered it to the little prince. At nearly ten months, the babies had begun to eat some solid foods and her heir had developed a fondness for sweets. At Mary’s direction, Kenna did the same thing for James, while the Dauphin had no certain taste for cocoa, he did have a habit of wanting the same things that Edward would get from his mother.

Mary felt eyes on her, making her turn around to meet the familiar gaze of her husband. The time since the night she ripped out both their hearts to protect herself moved so slowly, every time she would see him, she felt like she was under water with no way out. She quickly moved to avoid him and smiled thankfully when she was approached by none other than Louis of Conde.

“Prince Louis, are you enjoying yourself with Lola?”

She was rewarded with a bashful smile from him.

“Lady Lola is wonderful. I actually came here for your permission to take her to see my estate in Conde.”

Mary’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at his request. If Louis was taking Lola to his estate; then that meant that things were getting more serious between them then she anticipated. A strange feeling of jealousy bubbled up in her at the thought that he no longer had any feelings for her. She wasn’t sure if it was Louis’s relationship that made her feel like that or the fact that it was Lola, Mary’s complex feelings towards her lady often confused her.

“I am pleased that your courtship is going well, of course you have my permission. I wish you all the happiness.”

The rest of the morning was spent in the same festivity but the Queen’s fun was interrupted by the arrival of her uncle Christian de Guise. The duke had the audacity to ask for his position back as the Magistrate of France after the way he ran for the hills the second he heard of the plague. Mary didn’t know why her Uncle came to court but one thing was certain, it was not to protect her from the Bourbons. If Christian really did care about his niece than he would have returned after the castle attack to offer his support. Mary was relieved of dealing with him when Catherine sent an invitation for a family luncheon and a huge part of her enjoyed reminding the man that while she was part of the royal family, he was not.

The entire family was seated in the dining hall when Catherine sauntered in with Lord Narcisse of all people at her side. They had thought that Catherine was afflicted with Syphilis when in reality she was being poisoned; by the family Bible of all things. The same Bible that Henry read constantly, causing him to go mad. It was staggering to learn the truth; to know that every terrible fate that befell the House of Valois in the past year was a result of an assassination attempt on the King of France.

Francis was right all along and no one listened to him; Henry was being poisoned. He wasn’t mad but simply ill and had they figured it out earlier, Mary and their daughter would have been spared. Whoever was responsible for the poisoning ruined his rule and his family and when he caught them, nothing would save them from his wrath. It was as his mother said; no one messed with their family and got away with it.

The Queen of France knocked on Conde’s door and waited for it to open. Her heart was hammering in her chest at the news her husband and brother-in-law had shared with her; they were accusing Louis of poisoning the King of France. She did not know how she was going to convince him to stay at court but she knew that she had to try. If the Bourbons really were responsible for the horrors that came into her life than she knew that she could never trust Louis no matter his actions after meeting her.

“Mary! What are you doing here?”

Louis opened the door and was shocked to see her; she hadn’t actively sought him out in weeks.

“I came to ask you to postpone your departure.”

“Why?”

“Francis and I wish to host a dinner for you and Antoine, to thank you for all your help. A proper send off before you leave for Conde.”

“I’m sorry, I’m confused. You want me to delay my plans for a party?”

“Francis feels bad about your fight at the Winter Ball and wishes to make amends before you leave.”

Louis narrowed his eyes at the Queen; while he hadn’t known her for long, the way she was fiddling with her rings made him suspicious of her intentions.

“I don’t believe you. Especially that you and Francis thought of this together.”

“And why is that?”

“Mary your personal life is very publicly displayed at court; everyone from the servants to the nobles are aware of the estrangement between the King and Queen.”

Her face fell at the reminder of the distance between them and she suddenly wanted to leave; to hide from Louis’s piercing gaze.

“I wasn’t aware you listened to gossip.”

“I don’t, but when I can see the truth with my own eyes it’s no longer gossip. I am sorry that it didn’t work out with Francis, I know how hard you fought to get back together.”

Mary’s eyes lowered sadly at the words.

“Sometimes love just isn’t enough.”

Louis squared himself against her, there was something about this woman that disarmed him but he wouldn’t let himself be her pawn any longer. He courted her lady because she wanted him out of the way, if she wanted him to be in her life than she would have to admit that he mattered to her.  

“I ask again; tell me honestly why you want me to stay. Don’t give me the excuse of politics, if you don’t want me to be with Lola, then tell me the truth.”

Mary knew what he wanted to hear from her, he had challenged her to acknowledge her feelings for him. And it was true, if she had never met Francis then Louis would be an ideal match for her.

“You’re right. I don’t want you to court Lola.”

A smirk appeared on his face.

“I’m glad to finally hear the truth from you.”

Mary couldn’t stay in his presence any longer and she fled as fast as her feet would take her. She felt a mix of emotions at their encounter; on one hand she was guilty at having manipulated him into staying for an interrogation but on the other, she was irritated that he made her confess her attraction to him. She was even more angry at Francis for putting her in such a difficult position in the first place.

Which was why when he came into her room to escort her to the dinner that evening, she was so short with him. She dismissed his compliments and pointedly ignored the sprigs of lavender left on her vanity. Her husband needed to understand that their relationship was truly over and nothing would change that. She couldn’t keep having the same conversation with him over and over again.

They were just about to leave when Bash came inside to reveal the information that Narcisse uncovered from his network of spies. Turns out that the man who poisoned the Bible, Fredrick Monsieur not only worked in Louis’s private army but he also got paid by the man to absolve his debts; days before Henry started showing signs of madness. What was even worse was that when he returned to Conde, the man was killed so they didn’t have physical proof, they had no choice but to confront the brothers.

Francis strode into the dining hall with the Bible in hand, his nostrils flared in anger at the sight of the Bourbons. It irked him to know that him and his family paid the price for his father’s tyranny. He dropped the scripture in front of Louis with a thud.

“Open it! Read us a passage.”

Louis uncovered the cloth covering the book with a scoff.

“The Bible, is this some sort of joke?”

Francis pointed to it.

“My father read it often, so did my mother after he died. His Valet; Fredrick Monsieur poisoned it.”

Louis and Antione straightened in their seats in alarm, heads snapping to glare at the Valois in the room.

“Are you accusing me of regicide?”

Francis arched an eyebrow at his cousin.

“Are you guilty of regicide? Fredrick served under your command in Spain, did he not? He returned to your region after my father’s death where he was conveniently murdered. Tell me cousin, did you order him to poison the King?”

Instead of answering his cousin, Louis turned to Mary. Betrayal etched into his expression as he regarded the Queen.

“Is this why you wanted me to stay? So, you could put me on trial? You are a manipulative woman; aren’t you? I thought you were better than them but you are every inch a Valois!”

“Louis please…”

She couldn’t help but regret hurting him in such a way.

“Don’t speak to her like that!”

Francis cut in.

“Just tell the truth Louis.”

Mary asked softly.

“This is outrageous! How dare you make such blatant accusations against my brother?”

Antoine demanded but Bash quickly cut in with proof.

“We have witnesses who saw you, who will attest that you paid off his debt.”

“I didn’t pay him. He asked me for money but I refused, he fell into terrible habits and his debts were a bottomless pit. I had nothing to do with this.”

Francis scoffed at his explanation.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Is this revenge for my dealings with Elizabeth? Are you trying to rid yourself of us?”

Antoine cut in with anger in his voice. He was furious are the way Francis had treated them since their arrival but he was also glad at the turn of events. Maybe now his naïve little brother will come to realize who his true friends were, he needed to see that the Queen of France was just as duplicitous as her husband.

The altercation came to a halt when Catherine and Narcisse came to them with the proof that it was Christian de Guise who poisoned Henry. It put them in a terrible position with the Bourbons and the divide between their houses would be difficult to mend. Francis and Bash did what they could to ease the tension but the damage was done. Louis left the room in a fit of rage and even Antoine’s empty forgiveness wouldn’t make things better tonight.

Louis heard the telltale clicking of heels on the stone floor and his body went rigid when her scent surrounded him on the balcony. He felt angry and betrayed, he needed to chose his words carefully or he may end up caught in her web of lies again.

“Louis I am so sorry, I never believed you were guilty but I needed to find a way to prove your innocence.”

He couldn’t stand seeing her doe eyes widened as if she was the victim.

“Do you think this is some kind of game? You play with me, pushing me away and pulling me in and now you have betrayed me.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you but I had no choice. Francis is my King and he asked me to keep you here.”

“And manipulating me into believing that you wanted me was the only way? I love you Mary, but my feelings don’t matter to you.”

She tried to reach for him to make him see the remorse she felt but he pulled away before she could touch him.

“I will not be lied to and humiliated in such a way again, if you ever cared about me, you will stop interfering in my life.”

He strode away from her, leaving her on the balcony to think about the kind of person she was becoming. He was walking the hallways to his chambers when he was interrupted by his brother. Antoine put a hand on his back and was ready to scold his brother for his outburst at dinner when he was cut off by the rage on his face.

“You were right. About Mary, about the Valois, about all of it.”

Antoine smirked at Louis, finally his brother could see the truth of his new friends.

“Welcome back brother, I have been waiting for you.”

“I thought Francis was a weak King who bowed to his nobles but he is just as tyrannical as his father. And Mary, she’s worse than her husband, pretending to be innocent and noble while hiding a viper underneath.”

“I thought you loved her, brother.”

Louis shook his head and scowled.

“I loved the woman she made me think she was; I saw the truth of her today and she is just as shrewd as Catherine if not more. She and Francis deserve each other.”

“Are you ready now? To do what must be done to protect the House of Bourbon, to avenge our family against the House of Valois.”

Antoine watched in pride as his brother rose to the challenge, his jaw set in determination.

“I know where my loyalties lie. I will join you brother and together we will make them regret making an enemy of us.”

Some time ago, Antoine had asked him to seduce the Queen and he had refused but now he was ready. When he was done with her, she would fall at his feet and know that everything happening to her and her husband was her fault. He would make her fall madly in love with him and that would be her downfall.

Chapter Text

The Duke of Guise was buried with all the honors of his post that morning. No one at the funeral mentioned a peep of his betrayal against the Crown. Marie de Guise has travelled all the way from Scotland with her delegation to attend the funeral of her brother and check on her daughter. The rumors of discontentment between the King and Queen had reached the Scottish Court as well, which meant that the problem was serious and the Queen Regent of Scotland wasn’t about to let her daughter ruin the alliance she spent years forging in less than two years.

Mary was accompanied by her mother back to her chambers. The entire funeral service was an effort in restraint, Louis and Mary had come to an understanding about the state of their relationship with one another and she was giddy with anticipation. The idea of pursuing a new romance was dangerous and exhilarating at the same time. Maybe this would help her overcome her feelings regarding her trauma and her marriage, Louis made her feel new and energized. His affections were once uncomfortable but now they flattered her, giving her a chance to find herself again without her past weighing her down.

She knew her mother had noticed her subtle glances because she could feel Marie’s disapproval. The Queen Mother dismissed all the servants in the chamber and closed the doors. She turned to her daughter with equal parts disappointment and disbelief.

“I had hoped that the rumors were just that: rumors.”

Mary groaned internally at the lecture that was to follow.

“Mother, stay out of it.”

“When I heard that Francis no longer visits your bedchambers; I couldn’t believe that my daughter could be so foolish. Yet I can see no sign of your husband in this room so it must be true.”

Marie was harsh with her words but nothing would stop her from talking some sense into her daughter.

“Circumstances have changed and our marriage is different now.”

“Different how? Is it that tramp Lola? I did warn you about her.”

“Mother don’t find fault with Lola, I told you before it was one night and a terrible mistake.”

“Choosing her as your lady was a mistake. If it’s not the rumored mistress then what?”

“I released him from our vows, we could no longer be happy together so we decided to have separate lives. Francis is free to find love elsewhere.”

It took all her restraint to resist the urge to strike her daughter.

“You stupid girl! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“How dare you speak to me in this manner?”

“Did you think twice before handing your husband the license to kill you?”

Mary’s brows furrowed in confusion at her mother’s fury.

“What are you talking about? Francis would never hurt me or Scotland, he is an honorable man.”

“He is a King who will always choose his nation above all else. His love and devotion towards you keep Scotland safe. Did you think what would happen if he no longer cared about you?”

Mary didn’t think about that, she didn’t think it would matter because she knew the man Francis was.

“Mary this wouldn’t be so serious had you not signed the Crown Matrimonial. I warned you against it but you were in love at the time and now you have given France the chance to benefit from your death. He can kill you and rule our nation with nothing stopping him.”

Marie didn’t understand what caused the strife in her daughter’s union but she wouldn’t let her terrible decisions endanger their rule.

“What do you want from us, Mother?”

“I want you to do the job I sent you here to do. Your duty as Queen so that the Scottish delegation can put these whispers to rest back home, make you less of a laughing stock. I expect the news of another heir soon.”

Her mother’s words hit a nerve in the Queen of France and she couldn’t help but think about the repercussions of her decision to live separate lives. Would Francis really stop protecting her and Scotland when he found happiness with another woman? What could she do to secure her position as Queen so that she may find her own happiness with Louis?

Francis came into her chambers with flushed cheeks and heavy breaths. He and Lola were trying to wrangle the boys for their afternoon nap, the little ones had no intention of going down without a fight. Now that they had begun to crawl and take tentative steps, it was even more difficult to calm down when they teamed up against their parents. While Francis was happy to rekindle his friendship with Lola, he couldn’t help miss his wife during the chaos. Those moments were supposed to be shared by them as a family.

“How is Marie de Guise? Mother told me she was just with you.”

Mary tried to hide her grimace but knew she failed when Francis sent her a sympathetic smile.

“She was furious with me, with the status of our union.”

“Ah, I feared she would be.”

There was a strained silence that followed them; after the way Mary kept pushing him away, she knew it was only a matter of time before their conversations became stilled and awkward. That didn’t change how much it pained her that they’d come to this; there was a time when she couldn’t spend a moment away from him and now; she couldn’t stand being in his presence. To drown in his expectations and the memories that her broken mind associated with him. Maybe her mother’s insistence was a good thing, the push she needed to see if there was something left to salvage from their relationship, one last attempt before she truly gave up on them.

“Mother wants us to have a child and soon.”

Francis was taken aback by the words and the clinical way in which she spoke them, she couldn’t even sleep next to him without getting flashbacks, how on earth were they going to conceive a child?

“We already have a child, two of them in fact.”

“We need spare heirs in case of a tragedy, babies are so fragile and having as many heirs as possible would strengthen our position. It will make me a better option for England and keep me safe from Elizabeth.”

He shook his head at her.

“This is your mother pressurizing you. You are not ready for us being intimate.”

“This is not about me and my fears, this is about our duty as King and Queen.”

Mary insisted, she stepped closer to her husband and held his hand.

“Mother is right, this is the best way for me to protect my rule in Scotland.”

“I can’t believe you are basing this decision on international politics. James and Edward were conceived with love, with passion. What would this encounter be?”

“Francis I am ready.”

His heart bloomed with hope and his eyes twinkled.

“Are you saying you’re ready to give us a chance?”

Mary lowered her eyes to avoid seeing the affection in his.

“I am saying that I am ready for us to perform our duty.”

His eyes tightened at her rejection but he swallowed back the hurt before answering.

“Duty; I see. I’ll have to think about it, and I believe you should too.”

That evening Francis publicly entered his wife’s bedchamber. His mother had convinced him to let Mary take the lead on their physical relationship and trust that she knew herself better than anyone. If she wanted to try being intimate then he was going to respect her choice, truthfully, he didn’t need much convincing to make love to his wife.

Mary was leaning against the bed in her white nightgown and her hair loose when her husband opened the door to enter. Her skin prickled at the sight of him, her heart pounding against her ribs in fear and anticipation. She was determined to rein in her demons tonight and open her heart to him, she needed to know that she tried everything.

He came closer to drink in her beauty in the glow of the candle lights scattered across the room. She was shaking and he couldn’t help but feel like they were about to make a terrible mistake.

“Are you sure about this? You’re shaking.”

Mary gave him a weak smile.

“I’m just a bit chilly.”

He picked up her shawl from a chair nearby and wrapped it around her to give her warmth. Mary inched closer to Francis, placing a hand above his heart and simply breathing in his scent. There was something so comforting about his quiet strength, his willingness to protect her that she wished she could sink in his embrace with nothing tainting her.

Francis tried to remain as still as possible; he was taking his cues from Mary, letting her lead tonight. The delicate hand on his chest moved to touch the skin of his neck, nudging him closer to her. Soft lips touched his and Francis sighed into his wife’s mouth. To kiss her after months felt exhilarating and he didn’t notice when his hands went to hold her waist, her curves flush against him.

Mary felt the familiar rush of desire, making her lightheaded and overcoming any other emotion. She pulled him closer until her back was against the soft pillows of her bed and she was laying down. Francis hovered over his wife, his knees on either side of her hips and searched her for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. All he saw was her flushed cheeks, tousled hair and her pupils blown wide. He leaned down to kiss her and let his hands slowly trace her side, instantly Mary went rigid. His fingers paused their caress and he pulled back to face her.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s your breathing, as I long as I look at you, I’m fine. I need to know it’s you. Can you talk to me?”

Francis nuzzled against the sensitive skin of her jaw and whispered soft encouragements against her skin. All the little notes he had been leaving her turned into sweet confessions as he tried to remind her that it was her husband that was loving her. For a while, he could tell that she was enjoying the attentions but it all came to a halt when he touched the skin of her inner thigh.

She flinched loudly and no matter how hard she tried to hide it, the damage was done. Francis knew exactly what flashed before her eyes because he was there, he was the one who killed the last man who touched her there. He jumped off her and moved to sit beside her as she sat up.

“I can’t do this to you, not like this.”

“We have to try harder.”

Francis vehemently opposed the idea.

“Not tonight, I will not cause you any more pain. We can try next month.”

Mary walked off to pour herself a drink, hoping the wine would dull the ache in her chest.

“No, I don’t want to wait.”

“Mary! We need more time; you need more time. What’s the urgency? I understand the need to secure our rule and yes; another son would put a rest to all the gossip but what are the odds that we would conceive tonight?”

“I need to show the Scottish delegation and my mother that I take my duty seriously.”

“And this is the only way? Why are you so adamant tonight? You don’t need to traumatize yourself to strengthen your position as Queen. I will protect you.”

Mary shook her head and tightened the shawl around herself for an excuse to hold on to something.

“I can’t trust that you’ll protect me or Scotland. Not in the months or years to come, what if I anger you? If we live separately, you will love someone else. What if you move on and no longer care about my nation?”

“You’re talking nonsense! That will never happen. I will always love you and I refuse to move on with others.”

Francis cried out in frustration; he couldn’t understand why she was pushing him to take a lover when he was nothing but devoted to her. That was until he remembered the events of the previous weeks and how angry she was when he made her manipulate Conde.

“It is not my infidelity that frightens you; it is my reaction to yours. This is about Conde; has something happened between you two?”

His realization proved correct when her eyes widened at being caught.

“We have done nothing!”

“Emotional cheating is still cheating, Mary. He loves you that I know. Do you love him?”

Mary heard her husband’s voice crack at the question.

“I don’t know if I have it in me to love anyone ever again. I know I can’t keep living like this; barely a queen, a wife or a mother. I want to be free of the shackles that is my life.”

“You mean our marriage; I didn’t realize my love was so suffocating to you.”

He sneered at her.

“I am so messed up that my mind links you to that night. I am sorry but I can never move past that. Does that mean I am cursed to live my life without love?”

“If it pushes you into his arms then yes. I will not allow you to destroy our life for your desires, I forbid it. You are not simply a woman; you are a wife and a mother; a Queen. You will not stain our children with an affair.”

Mary glared at his harsh words, an urge to scream took over her senses.

“How dare you? I have been trying so hard to connect with my sons, I will not stand by and let you accuse me of being a bad mother.”

“You barely spare a glance for James and spend all your time doting on Edward. Barely a year old and your favoritism has made him jealous of his brother. How can you treat him like that? You know what James is to me, to us. He saved us when you were ready to throw it all away for superstition.”

“Because he was there!”

“What does that even mean?”

Francis couldn’t believe they were fighting about this.

“If James wasn’t sleeping in that bed that night, I would have fought my way out but I didn’t. I made a choice to protect him instead of myself. I chose your heir over my daughter and now she is dead!”

A pin could be heard following her confession and her hands flew up to cover her mouth in horror; Francis’s features were twisted in haunting bewilderment. He blinked once, then twice; his lips unable to form words until he whispered into the silent room.

“My heir; did you just call him my heir? I can’t believe you said that.”

Mary’s eyes were wet with unshed tears as the gravity of her declaration dawned on her.

“I didn’t mean those words; Francis I swear.”

She tried to reach for him but he recoiled from her presence like she burned him.

“Yes, you did. I could forgive you for blaming me, I blame myself but James? Your son? This isn’t the woman I married. Who are you becoming?”

“Francis just let me explain.”

He stepped around her to the door.

“I can’t hear another word; I am so disappointed in you Mary.”

Francis briskly walked out of the room, not bothering to spare her a second glance and ignored her attempts to apologize.

It seemed that Mary couldn’t catch a break; when she relayed the failure of her night to her mother; she was furious. Marie de Guise scolded her daughter like a child but all it did was push her to the conclusion that she was finished waiting to live her life on other people’s terms. Her mother was dying and Scotland needed her more than her children or her husband. Not that Francis would welcome her affections ever again; even if she didn’t have feelings for Louis, what she admitted to her husband about her firstborn was a sin he might never be willing to forgive.

She would never reveal the secret to anyone but hearing his disappointment throbbed like a dull ache in her heart. It was a good thing she had Louis’s love; he had no expectations of her beyond her company and her heart. He was willing to listen to her without pushing her to make any decisions, he only wanted her to unburden herself.

Which was why it was a great relief to Mary when he vowed to help her return to Scotland under Francis’s nose. If she made it seem that she was willing to pursue an affair with him, then that was mostly true. She was honest with her husband when she said that she was unsure if she could ever love anyone but something about Louis’s unconditional love and support made her want to try with him.

Chapter Text

The sun was shining brightly over the stone walls and lush grounds of Chateau de Fontainebleau; the snows were just beginning to soften with tiny blooms scattered on patches of newly uncovered grass. While the air was still chilly, it paired perfectly with the warmth of the sun. The weather was perfect to hold the most long-awaited event of the year; The Dauphin’s Wine Tasting invited every noble in France to court in honor of the new King and to taste the nineteen-year-old vintage bottled the year Francis was born.

 The Royal Family was in the hallway to receive the multitude of guests arriving for the banquet; the King was greeting the nobles alone while the Queen stood further away with her ladies to discuss the tasks they had to complete before the event.

“Why aren’t you and Francis greeting the guests together?”

 Lola’s question caught her attention and Mary stopped staring at her husband to turn to answer her.

“Our estrangement is already visible to the court, there’s no point in trying to force interactions when neither of us want to be near one another.”

After their fight two nights ago, things were going terribly. Francis was furious with her and would make any excuse to prevent being in her presence. She didn’t mind most of the time, seeing as it gave her the chance to meet up with Louis in hidden corners of the castle. They hadn’t made any moves to make their relationship more physical but their conversations somehow felt even more intimate than lovemaking. When was the last time her husband sat down to listen to her talk for hours? Louis listened to her with no interruptions and made no attempts to give her any advice. It felt like she could share her darkest secrets with him without fear of judgement.

Kenna was making a list of all the nobles arriving to form an updated seating chart when she noticed that more and more lords were arriving with women too young to be their wives.

“Is Francis with Count de Grace? Who is that with him? It’s not the countess, do you think he brought his Mistress.”

“Actually; dear Kenna, he’s hoping he brought the King’s Mistress. I had hoped that you of all people would grasp the meaning behind this even. The tasting is traditionally a selection for the Royal Mistress.”

Catherine cut in with a wide grin, a large and spiteful part of her enjoyed the discomfort that appeared on Mary’s face when she heard her. After the way Mary was pushing Francis away it was nice to see that her son’s wife cared enough to be envious at the prospect of a mistress.

“Francis doesn’t want a Mistress!”

Lola replied with a frown, she noticed the way Mary went rigid as Catherine explained the true purpose of tonight’s banquet.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I seated so many of these ladies next to us, I won’t let any of these pert little opportunists anywhere near Mary.”

Kenna was harsher with the defense of her queen and snapped at her step-mother-in-law. Mary turned her attention away from the beautiful young ladies being dangled in front of her husband and motioned for her ladies to calm themselves.

“It’s alright Kenna, I can hardly take offence to it, seeing as I’m the one who suggested we live apart in the first place.”

Kenna stomped off muttering about altering the seating arrangements while Catherine walked over to where Stephane Narcisse was introducing his niece to Francis; that man didn’t miss a single chance to grasp at power. Lola and Mary were left in the hallway to talk.

“Are you really alright with the Tasting?”

Mary let out a sigh before plastering on a smile.

“Of course, our marriage is over. What Francis does is of no consequence to me.”

Lola’s brows furrowed in sympathy; her friend was not a very convincing liar.

“You realize that a single word from you can put a stop to this? If you tell Francis how much it’s bothering you, he will dismiss the event.”

Mary shook her head, brushing of her lady’s concern. From across the room, she caught the eye of Louis and all her negative emotions washed away. Maybe what she needed was to skip the Tasting and spend the evening with the prince instead. There was no point in watching numerous women try to get into her husband’s bed.

Moments later, Francis was done evading the veiled glances and innuendos, he excused himself. He crossed the hallway to face his wife after days of avoiding her presence. Mary seemed troubled and a part of him hoped that the attention was making her as jealous as the thought of her and Conde made him.

“I am sorry for all of this Mary. If I knew the kind of attention the Tasting would invite, I would have cancelled the event.”

Mary narrowed her eyes in suspiciousness at his concern, he didn’t seem to be as angry with her as before and she wasn’t sure if she could trust the change of heart. After what she let slip about her irrational feelings towards James, she wasn’t sure if she forgave herself, she didn’t expect Francis to forgive her either.

“I’m surprised you care about my feelings; I thought you’d still be angry with me.”

Francis shook his head at her confession.

“I was angry yes; but I am more upset that this is what you’ve come to, blaming a child for an attack done by grown men.”

Mary averted her gaze to hide from the displeasure and judgement in his eyes.

“This is why I wanted us to be free; to put the horrors of the past behind us and heal away from each other.”

His nostrils flared at the reminder of her desire to be with his cousin. Every time he thought that they were getting somewhere, Conde was lurking in a corner trying to weasel his way into his wife’s good graces and now he had finally succeeded in capturing her heart. When he noticed them stealing glances, it took all manner of civility to stop himself from killing the self-righteous bastard with his bare hands.

“I already told you my decision; there is nothing else to say on the subject.”

“So that’s it then? You can just decide how I live my life?”

“Yes! I can decide; this is my court and as such, you will not disgrace yourself or me by entertaining an affair.”

Mary crossed her arms over chest and scowled at her situation.

“Don’t you find it ionic that women from all of France are being paraded around for your pleasure while I cannot have what I desire?”

Francis scoffed.

“Don’t speak to me about your desires for another man. And you’re right that we live in a society where a Queen’s infidelity is considered an act of treason, seeing as any child you bear must be considered legitimate. I am trying so hard to protect you when Conde would cost you your head.”

Not wanting to hear any more, Mary stormed off. It hurt; hearing the harsh truth from him but the reality of their lives was this, Francis could have as many affairs as he wanted while Mary had to be a faithful wife. It was unfair and she wanted to fight against it.

That was why when Louis agreed to run away to Scotland with her, she took it as a sign that maybe they were meant to be together. She pushed away her confusing jealousy at the prospect of Francis’s Mistress and let Louis’s affection wash over her. He was her future now and anybody else was irrelevant.

They skipped the Dauphin Tasting Banquet to go meet her agent in a far away inn. The agent told them that he needed two to three weeks to prepare for their departure and safe journey to Scotland. It was blissfully overwhelming for Mary to realize that after so many years in France, she was finally returning home to her birth country. She would be at her own court surrounded by people loyal to her and not her husband. She would be able to pursue a relationship with Louis, free from all the burdens of French Court.

“I can’t believe it Louis! I am going home.”

She beamed at him, her hands reaching out to hold his.

“I am glad to see you so happy.”

“I am happy; and I will be even more so when we reach Scotland so we can begin our lives together.”

Louis’s grin widened at her excitement. He truly had no intention of staying in Scotland to be her dirty secret for long but seeing her so overjoyed at the thought stirred enough guilt in him to try to save her life. Surely her ruined reputation and her war with England and France would have to be enough. He recalled the conversation he had with Antione prior to leaving the castle.

“I have arranged a meeting with Elizabeth’s envoy this evening, this is your chance to be King.”

“I can’t today; Antione, I am leaving with Mary to meet her agent. For safe passage to Scotland.”

Antione scowled at the refusal but bit back the retort and asked nicely instead.

“And why are you running away to Scotland with her when you could be King of England?”

“I won’t be staying long, but this way I will be close enough to meet Elizabeth in person. I can also determine the level of influence Francis has at Scottish Court.”

The King of Navarre patted his brother on the back at his quick thinking.

“Well done little brother! Rumor has it that many traditional nobles despise a woman’s rule and look to Francis, especially the Catholic nobles.”

“I will marry Elizabeth on English soil and return to France with her army and mine, together we will rule France, Scotland and England.”

“Four nations under Bourbon rule as it should be. You and I will rule half of Europe Louis.”

Mary cupped his cheek to bring his attention back to her, he noticed that her forehead was creasing and she was biting her lip. He couldn’t let her have any second thoughts.

“What’s bothering you?”

Louis asked.

“I will have to leave my children behind; there is no way to run away with the boys. Taking Francis’s sons without his consent will be an act of war, it would be considered treason.”

“I wish I could help. Maybe in a few years you can ask them to be brought to you, after things settle down.”

Mary mulled over the idea but shook her head sadly.

“I might convince Francis that Edward should be in Scotland but even if I fight tooth and nail, I will never get James. He is the Dauphin and no one would agree to Francis relinquishing his heir, I cannot separate the boys.”

Louis brought his hands to her face, holding her tightly.

“I will find a way to bring your sons to you, I promise.”

His sentiment was rewarded with a smile and she leaned on her toes to press her lips to his. A small peck that turned more passionate by the second. Louis smirked in satisfaction at her wanton cries, if there was one thing that he was exceptional at, it was making woman mad with desire. Even the Queen of France and Scotland was not safe from his charms and allure. It was only a matter of time before Mary realized what a fool she truly was.

When Mary returned to the castle it was midnight and everyone had retired to their chambers so the halls were fairly empty. That gave her the chance to sneak into her rooms without being seen. She had stopped Louis from taking things too far tonight but she felt hopeful by her progress and it solidified her resolve, her healing truly was because of the Prince of Conde. A note was placed on her nightstand when she entered her room; it appeared her husband required a word with her first thing in the morning.

After a night of restless sleep, Mary knocked on Francis’s door merely hours after sunrise. Coming into the chamber she was attacked would have once sent her into hysterics but she was pleased to know that it didn’t affect her the way it did months ago. Francis was seated at the chair by the window nursing a glass of scotch, he turned to her when he heard the door close. He finished his drink before standing to face her.

“I have done nothing but think about what you said that night, about your feelings for Conde.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“But I did, you should know that I slept with Lady Amelie. I regret it now, but at the time I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me.”

Francis was staring down at the carpet so he didn’t see her face pinch at his admission.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I talked to Lola and she made me see things differently. You are free to be with Conde with my protection, he is yours.”

Mary was bewildered at his words, where was the man who refused her yesterday?

“What’s changed? You have been so against it.”

Francis looked at his wife with glassy eyes and features set in pure agony, his voice cracking as he spoke.

“I love you Mary, and I would do anything to make you happy. Even if it means releasing you from our vows so you can be with another.”

“What about you? What will make you happy?”

“Not another woman. Yesterday was a mistake I will never repeat, I won’t take a mistress.”

Mary was confused.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want my sons to grow up believing that it is acceptable behavior for a man, even for a King. Adultery is a sin, no matter who commits it.”

The last bit was a jab at her actions, Mary understood that Francis was upset with her but she wasn’t in any position to take offence. It was daunting, the final nail in the coffin for their marriage. There was a time when she believed that their love would last forever but it was nothing but a dream now.

“I’m sorry we’ve come to this.”

“Just promise me two things.”

Mary blinked back her tears and nodded.

“Anything.”

“Be careful Mary; don’t be obvious and for God’s sake never get caught. I can squash rumors but I cannot protect you if there is physical proof of your infidelity.”

“If we are seen you mean.”

“If there is a child.”

Even the thought of Mary laying with another man was enough to tear his heart, how was he going to survive her affair? To know that another man would see her the way he once did, to touch her in places only he knew about.

“You said two things.”

Mary wanted to end this conversation and leave; no matter what happened she would always love Francis in some way and it pained her to see her happiness killing him. He took a deep breath and raised his chin before continuing, something in his stance suddenly seemed powerful and regal.

“You will not shirk your duties as my Queen or as Mother to my children. If there ever comes a time when you chose Conde above this nation or our family; I will have his head and I can’t promise not to enjoy it.”

The guilt she felt at hurting him faded at his threat; his pain had shifted into anger in an instant and it made her indignation rise. Mary chose to back down and take his protection with grace instead, he was sacrificing his needs to give her what she wanted. She would accept his terms with no hesitation; she bowed her head at her husband in agreement.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

That was what they would be from now on; King and Queen but no longer husband and wife.

Chapter Text

Three weeks later; it was finally the day that she’d been waiting for her entire life, to return home to Scotland and reclaim her throne. Mary had finally found the strength to overcome her fears of being with a man and it was all because of Louis. If she didn’t love him before last night then she surely did now, he gave her the power to find herself and her heart again. She would always be grateful for him and by tomorrow they would be on the boat to Scotland where Francis’s presence would no longer haunt them or make her feel guilty.

Mary redressed in her gown and left the abandoned chapel where she had secret rendezvous with Louis. The sooner they returned to the castle, the sooner they could prepare for their departure. It killed her to leave James and Edward in France but with the way that they cried in her presence lately, maybe it was best for her to put some distance between herself and her sons.

Their journey back was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Lola. She was out of breath and flushed from the exertion of running from the castle. Catherine had been on a rampage and she had looked ready to kill when she didn’t find Mary in her chambers so Lola volunteered to bring her back, a part of her was truly afraid for her friend’s life.

“Lola; is everything alright? You look troubled.”

“Mary it’s Francis.”

Dread crept up Mary’s spine and she exchanged a glance with Louis, the Prince was scowling at the mention of her husband.

“What about Francis? Tell me what’s wrong Lola!”

“He collapsed last night; he is very ill Mary.”

No… please God, not him!

“Is it an infection? Will he be okay?”

Lola shook her head in dismay.

“He’s burning up and he hasn’t woken, the physician isn’t very hopeful.”

“I have to go then, be with him.”

Mary didn’t wait for a response from Lola or Louis before practically sprinting back to the castle. She didn’t know how she made it to the King’s chambers without bumping into someone, her vision was already blurred with unshed tears. This is not what she wanted to happen, Francis couldn’t be dying, he couldn’t leave them. Catherine was in the room with the court physician and the moment she appeared in the doorway, he was dismissed by the Queen Mother.

“Can he hear us?”

Mary asked softly.

“His ear was bleeding and he might never wake up.”

Catherine was seated at her son’s bedside but stood up to face Mary with accusatory eyes.

“Where were you when the King collapsed? Were you whoring yourself to the Bourbon Prince?”

Mary looked at her feet, feeling the judgement of her glares.

“This is all your fault Mary! The last thing he heard before he collapsed, was your betrayal. Nostradamus did say that you’d be the cause of my son’s death but I never knew that you’d kill him by breaking his heart.”

If Catherine had stabbed her in the gut, it would’ve hurt less than the notion that Francis was laying unconscious in his bed because of her. The Queen Mother gave her a glare full of loathing before striding out of the room, leaving her with her husband.

Mary sat at his bedside; reaching to hold his hand in hers. His chest was rising and falling, his golden hair splayed on the pillow creating a halo around his pale face. Were it not for the sickly hue of his skin, he’d look to be merely sleeping peacefully.

“Please wake up Francis… if you can hear me, just know that I never meant to hurt you just as you never meant to hurt me. You have to live; James and Edward need you, I…we need you.”

If the worst were to happen and Francis passed away, France would face civil war. James was the Dauphin and the next King but Mary knew Catherine. Chances are she has already called Charles to return to court from Anjou, she would never let Mary rule as Regent for the next fifteen years, especially after learning of her betrayal. Her son’s throne would be usurped by his uncle and Mary would have to return to Scotland without an alliance; she’d have to make a new one. How could she marry someone else? How could she love someone else?

That’s when it dawned on her that she was already making plans to love and build a life with Louis, she had already betrayed her husband. Mary got up from Francis’s bedside and made to leave the chambers so Catherine may return to her son, when he woke up, Francis wouldn’t want to see the face of the woman who tore his heart apart.

Mary took the responsibility of court matters for the day; they’d fooled the nobles into believing that the King was hunting to make sure that no one knew of the instability of France. Kenna was gone to find Bash; if these really were the final hours then Bash needed to say goodbye to his brother. Mary was in the King’s study with Louis hovering over her, she didn’t know why he would prefer to be amongst state paperwork but his insight with management of principalities was helpful.

They worked in silence for a while before they were interrupted by Admiral Sene who arrived with urgent news regarding Scotland. Her brother James wrote to her explaining that her Protestant enemies were mobilizing an army with English support to wipe out Mary’s Catholic supporters back home. The situation was dire and they were in desperate need of help; troops and funds.

As soon as the Admiral left, the Queen turned to her lover in despair.

“Louis what do I do? I have to help my people, if I don’t act now my allies will be slaughtered and my crown lost to Elizabeth.”

“Then act; let us leave for Scotland now, before it’s too late.”

There was an urgency in his tone that she couldn’t understand, why was he so eager to leave so quickly?

“We will be sailing into a warzone Louis; I will need an army at my back and the only person who can command an army of that size is the King.”

The King who is dying in his bed. Louis thought about the consequences of his suggestion before making it, should Mary do what he tells her to her allies in France will betray her the second Francis is dead.

“Mary, with Francis in such a terrible condition, right now the King is you. You have the power to mobilize troops for Scotland.”

Hope blossomed in Mary at his words and she immediately began preparations for a military advance. She would take an army to Scotland with her and leave by nightfall, her country needed its Queen. Sometime later, Lola had joined their planning after putting the twins to bed and leaving them under heavy guard. Mary didn’t trust Catherine or Narcisse with her sons, she couldn’t put it passed them to have her babies killed so Charles could be King of France.

“Two thousand troops in Scotland means less protection for our borders.”

Mary was placing figures on the war map, she wanted to find a way to take troops that wouldn’t leave France defenseless.

“Those are just potential threats whereas Scotland faces a real war.”

Louis tried to reason with her.

“This doesn’t feel right, how can I leave France defenseless? My husband’s country, a country that I’ve come to love.”

Louis opened his mouth to argue but Lola cut in instead.

“Mary, how could you not? Scotland is our home; these people need our help. They are all friends and family; you cannot turn your backs on them.”

The queen turned to her friend to see her expression filled with resolve and determination, she nodded at her patriotism and agreed.

“You’re right Lola; send for General Du Bois at once, tell him his Queen has a job for him.”

As soon as Lola left, Mary and Louis were alone in the study once again. All day, he had tried to offer her comfort but somehow the mere thought of his touch made her shudder, she didn’t want Louis right now. Ever since Lola came to her with news of Francis, all she could think about was how much she would miss him if he died. The memories of their marriage were tainted by her attack and all the ways she pushed him away until she convinced herself that the only way she could be happy, was with Louis.

The door to the study slammed open, making both the occupants jump in alarm. Catherine de Medici strode into the room with daggers in her eyes. She pointed to Louis and dismissed him with a sharp get out.

“I’d like to speak to my daughter-in-law alone.”

The second that they were alone, Catherine let lose all her anger at her.

“You will not take soldiers to Scotland and run away with your lover, what kind of cruelty is this? Planning your escape while my son fights for his life!”

“Catherine, if I don’t do this my country will be lost. This has nothing to do with my personal feelings, I made this decision as Queen of Scotland; not Francis’s wife.”

Catherine’s gaze dropped to the wooden soldiers on the war map and in a fit of rage, she sent them all flying.

“Your county is all but lost! Do not drag us down with her, you may have authority but I will move heaven and earth to stop you from ruining my family.”

Mary scowled at her declaration and couldn’t stop herself from fighting back.

“How long will you fight me, Catherine? If Francis lives it will be his decision, but if he dies; James will be crowned King. My son will sit the throne, not yours and all the power you believe you have will disappear into dust.”

The Queen Mother’s eyes narrowed at the arrogance and superiority in her words and she couldn’t help but lose control. Her hand raised without missing a beat and a resounding slap echoed throughout the study as she delivered a backhanded blow to her daughter-in-law’s cheek. Mary held her face in equal parts pain and shock.

“You will never do that again.”

She sneered but Catherine wasn’t listening.

“You are more of a bitch than I expected; my son’s body isn’t even cold yet and you’re already making plans to replace him.”

“Stop pretending like you weren’t going to install Charles as King the second Francis died. You are just as worried for your future as I am; you’re not the only one who loves him Catherine, who will grieve him if he’s gone.”

“You have a funny way of showing your love to my son, seeing as you’ve refused to be a wife to him.”

Mary sighed in defeat, there was no way of wining an argument with Catherine and she was just so tired.

“Just leave, go to your son and be by his side.”

She was awarded a lethal glare before her mother-in-law stormed off. Mary didn’t have time to stew because Lola arrived with General Du Bois just minutes after Catherine left. The man bowed before offering his services to his Queen.

“Thank you for coming at such a short notice, my lord.”

“Of course, your majesty. What can I do to help?”

Mary motioned to the map on the table to explain the situation in Scotland.

“I need you to mobilize and send for two thousand men to Scotland as soon as possible.”

General Du Bois was confused and his eyebrows knitted.

“I am sorry my queen but France doesn’t have any more troops to spare.”

“What? No, it’s not possible.”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“No, I checked for these battalions, see here. We can send this army; this is an order General!”

Du Bois surveyed the map and papers with deep thought, his back straightening when he realized what was truly happening, a small smile spreading on his stern face.

“Your Grace, the forces you are referring to are already on Scottish soil.”

Mary and Lola shared a glance, gob smacked at the revelation.

“How is that possible? Why didn’t I know about this?”

“The King received intelligence from your mother; Marie de Guise. She wrote to him for aid a week ago and the King swiftly dispatched orders for the army to sail for Scotland.”

“But why didn’t my brother know? James sent me a dispatch just this morning.”

“I don’t believe Marie de Guise would share any plans with the Earl of Moray, your grace.”

The General reached into his coat pocket to retrieve a sealed letter and handed it to Mary.

“I just received this message from your Admiral at the borders, chances are it contains confirmation of the army’s arrival. It is addressed to King Francis but since he is not here at the moment…”

Mary accepted the paper with a shaky hand, Lola noticed the motion and held her arm to calm her. The Queen addressed the General.

“Thank you; General Du Bois, that will be all.”

Once the General was dismissed; Mary opened the letter to read its contents. Just as Du Bois said, the letter mentioned the arrival of two thousand French troops at the Scottish borders. This meant that the army had left days ago; making it just in time to quell the civil war in her country.

And Francis; he didn’t hesitate even for a moment before honoring her nation’s needs. After all that she put him through, he still protected Scotland like he had promised her he would. The understanding that came from the thoughts in her head made her heart race in her chest. All the grief and despair she had kept at bay during the day washed over her all at once. Mary’s eyes misted and a choking sound left her throat.

“Mary? Are you alright?”

“All this time while I was cavorting with Louis, carrying on an affair in secret, Francis was ruling my country for me. I made him King and he became just that; Scotland’s King…my king.”

Lola held her friend in concern at her unfocused gaze and dead voice. The letter in her hands slipped from her fingers and before Lola could tighten her hold on her, the Queen of France and Scotland fell to her knees. Her palms came to cover her face to muffle the loud sobs that escaped her. Mary accepted her friend’s embrace and cried on her shoulder.

“Lola, I love him!”

Her voice cracked as she spoke through her tears.

“Mary, please don’t do this to yourself.”

“I love him and he’s dying… my husband is dying. I’ve wasted so much time.”

Her eyes were clenched shut and still, images of the past four months flashed behind her lids. All the pain she caused her family, how her guilt and her fears might have ruined everything. She’s been so selfish and uncaring, now Francis might die before she had the chance to fix things.

“Lola, what have I done?”

It took a complete hour for Mary to collect herself from the floor of her husband’s study. Her faithful lady and friend helped her to her feet, wiping away any signs of tears or snot from her face with a damp handkerchief. She needed to face her court and if they saw her in this state; blotchy face, bloodshot eyes and hair in disarray; no one will believe that all was well.

Bash had returned to the castle; Mary would’ve loved to offer him comfort but she thought it best to leave him and Francis to talk. Bash did ask some questions about the circumstances of the King’s illness and it was a painful reminder that she was with Louis when her husband collapsed. Not wanting to intrude on their moment, Mary left the chambers.

The Queen roamed the halls of the castle alone for hours that by the time she noticed her surroundings; the sun had set, leaving the sky a gorgeous blend of red and blue. Her feet took her to the doors of the royal nursery without a thought; she hesitated before entering. She had been so busy sneaking around with Louis that she rarely saw her children; what a terrible mother she was turning out to be, but that ended now. Mary squared her shoulders and opened the doors, the nannies stood up when they saw her arrive and she dismissed them with a nod.

James and Edward were playing with wooden blocks on the floor, surrounded by blankets and cushions to keep them warm and comfortable. Silently, she sat down to join her beloved boys, simply basking in their presence. It took a second for them to recognize her, their chubby faces wearing matching grins as they abandoned their blocks to reach out to her. Mary sighed in relief before bringing her babies in her warm embrace. She was afraid that her sons, especially James would resent her presence and reject her outright.

She clutched the boys to her chest and placed kisses on both of their faces and their hair, anywhere she could reach. The princes giggled at the affectionate gesture; they didn’t understand the turmoil their mother was feeling. She had so many regrets that she didn’t know how she was going to make amends but she would try as long as it takes.

“Mama has made such a mess of things; hasn’t she?”

She cupped her firstborn’s small face in her hand, a tear slipping down her cheek as she recalled how cruelly she blamed him for the worst night of her life. Her sweet James was so perfect, how could she even think such a terrible thought?

“I have hurt you my sweet angel. I have hurt Papa and I have hurt myself. I know you don’t understand me but Mama’s so very sorry. James, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I need it just the same.”

Edward, who has always been sensitive to her pain, patted her cheek to comfort her. The gesture made her chuckle softly and she kissed his small hand before bringing her attention back to James. The baby was frowning at her, as much of a frown a ten-month-old could make. It seemed like he really was thinking over her apology. They sat there together on the floor for a while before the most beautiful sound in the world escaped James’s lips.

“Mama!”

Mary’s lips pulled into a wide grin and she peppered his face with butterfly kisses, hugging both her boys.

“You are the lights of my life, both of you. Mama’s here now and she will never leave you again. I will fix everything; I will make your Papa happy again. We will be a family once more, I promise you.”

While the Queen was making vows to her princes; she didn’t know that someone was watching everything from the crack in the doors. Louis’s lips pursed in displeasure at her, this was a disaster. Mary couldn’t reconcile with Francis before they left for Scotland, it would make it very difficult for their plan to succeed. He needed to wash away her doubts and he needed to do it now. Without thinking, he walked into the nursery.

Mary was startled when the door opened and she stood up to protect her babies, relaxing when she saw who it was.

“Louis; what are you doing here? If someone sees you…”

“I needed to speak with you about our plans for Scotland.”

A dark shadow passed her at the reminder that she had yet to cancel her plans. Now was a good time as any to reveal the truth to him, Louis would understand that she couldn’t continue the affair. She never made any real promises to him, he knew that she couldn’t leave her husband and he was also aware that she still loved Francis.

They moved to an abandoned chamber to talk.

“Mary, I feel like you’re having second thoughts about Scotland. You promised me that we would be free of Francis but after hearing how your mother wrote to him makes me worry that we won’t be free of him there either.”

“What if I don’t want to be free of him?”

Louis’s face hardened and his fists clenched in anger.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“No; it’s not nothing. You have been pulling away from me since the moment Francis set you free, you are mine, not his.”

Mary snapped at him.

“Have some compassion, Louis! My husband, our King is dying and all you care about is staking your claim on me? This is not the time for your petty jealousy.”

“Petty jealousy? He keeps manipulating you into feeling sorry for him, he wants you to run back to him.”

Louis sneered at her; he really didn’t understand what was so special about the blonde bastard.

“I love him! And I will love him until the day I die. Francis is dying, he won’t survive the night and the last months of his life were wasted. I threw away the last months of my husband’s life to be with you, I wasted so much time on you when I could have been with him.”

A pin dropping could’ve been heard in the silence that followed her outburst. Time slowed and the fury on Louis’s face made her step back to protect herself.

“I have a principality, duties to attend to and people who need me. I turned my back on all that and more just to be your dirty little secret and you say that it was a waste of time?!”

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“But you did mean it. You no longer love me.”

“Louis what I want and what I need are not the same. I cannot abandon my marriage alliance, not after what Francis did for Scotland. If I betray the King that saved my people, they will oust me from my own government.”

“So, this is it then.”

“Yes, you are no longer welcome at court. It would be best for you to leave as soon as possible. At first light would be my preference.”

Louis scowled at the dismissal and bemoaned his failure. If he went back now his brother will kill him if Elizabeth didn’t get to him first for ruining their chances of getting France and Scotland. He will simply bide his time and return when it was safe, hopefully Francis will kick the bucket before the sun rises.

“Farewell, your majesty.”

It was nearing midnight and the castle was asleep, everyone but the royal family, who were burdened with the fate of their King. The physician had come in to tell them that if Francis didn’t wake in the next few hours; then chances are he would never wake up. Catherine had finally retired to her chambers with Narcisse of all people, which gave Mary the chance to stay the night with her husband. She had brutally ended things with Louis and while she might regret her harsh words in the future, all she cared about right now was her husband.

She held his hand as she sat on the bed beside him, she raised their joint hands to place a lingering kiss on his clammy skin and breathed in his scent.

“There was a time when I couldn’t be this close to you, when the sound of your breath and the love in your eyes haunted me. I’d give anything for you to open your eyes, to keep your heart beating. I don’t want you to die… please live Francis… don’t leave me.”

“I want us to forgive each other, to love each other again. I have made such a terrible mistake, please…please don’t go. I am so terrified Francis; I don’t know how I will survive losing you. You have to wake up, you have to live; if not for me then for James and Edward, for Catherine, for France.”

His hand was against her wet cheek, her tears staining his skin and she was so lost in her grief that she almost missed it. A small groan escaped his lips, his fingers twitching in her hand as he tried to move and she could see the movement of his closed eyelids. Without wasting anytime, Mary called for Catherine and the physician. A weight lifted off her chest when it was confirmed that the King would wake soon.

Catherine had kicked Mary out of the chambers without a second thought and it was dawn before she could see Francis. Catherine was speaking to her son in clipped tones when she entered the room. The King was awake and propped up on multiple pillows to support his body as he sat, leaning on the headrest. Francis’s jaw was clenched in irritation and he didn’t spare her a single glance when she arrived.

“Why would you send troops after she betrayed you? If word gets out you will the laughing stock of Europe. Scotland is not worth it Francis.”

“I sent the army before I knew of her plans to leave. A show of force for our enemies, let them think twice before turning against us in the future. Mother it is done, my decision is final.”

His voice was hoarse form disuse and she could tell that speaking was straining his body. Catherine shrieked when Francis dismissed her, cursing at Mary as she left the room in rage.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I almost died.”

An awkward silence followed. Mary plucked up the courage to ask the same question Catherine did.

“I am eternally grateful, but I have to ask; why did you send those troops? I betrayed our vows; you had every right to be angry with me and yet you still answered my mother’s call for help.”

Francis pushed himself up with a grunt and Mary rushed to help him but was stopped by him.

“We are both stronger when we honor our promises. As much as you like to forget, I am King of Scotland which makes it my nation to protect as well.”

“You should know that I ended things with Louis last night.”

His eyes landed on her, eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Why?”

“Because I love you and all this time that hasn’t changed. I was just so lost in my pain that I didn’t see anything else. I somehow fooled myself into believing that I could ever be happy without you… that I could live without you. I can’t Francis, yesterday… not knowing if you would ever wake up, it was hell.”

Her confession left her out of breath and her heart dropped when she saw his clenched jaw. Not once did he look at her and he seemed to be pointedly avoiding meeting her eyes.

“It’s a beautiful sentiment; one that I can no longer trust. I have lost all faith in you and I don’t believe that you will keep your word. Not anymore.”

Mary was crestfallen at his even tone, his voice not betraying a hint of emotion, he sounded nothing like the man who loved her and she realized that she deserved every bit of it.

“I understand that you can no longer trust me and that’s okay. I will prove my sincerity to you through my actions, I will give you the time and space you need. You waited months for me to heal and I will wait for you just the same.”

Francis shook his head and swallowed before speaking slowly.

“Near death experiences have a way of putting things in perspective, don’t they?”

“What do you mean?”

“I stared death in the face and was given a second chance at life. And I swore to myself that the next time I was dying, I wouldn’t leave with any regrets.”

He emphasized regrets while holding her gaze, the meaning took a while to sink in but when it did; it felt like her heart was made of glass and he’d smashed it onto the stone floor.

“Regrets; does this mean that you regret marrying me?”

She asked with a rasp, trying to hold in the urge to weep. Francis closed his eyes to avoid staring at the hurt on her face.

“I think you should leave.”

“Leave this room? Or leave France?”

“That is up to you.”

Mary made her way to Louis’s bedchambers in the castle; after her disastrous talk with Francis, she needed to see him. Feeling her husband’s rejection made her sympathize with Louis, she was so harsh in her dismissal of him. She ended their affair and practically banished him from court at the same time, he must be heartbroken. She needed to hurry if she were to catch him before he left for Conde.

Unfortunately, when she reached his chambers there was no one to be found. She decided to wait for him inside the room to avoid gossip from spreading, she’d endangered her rule enough because of her affection for Louis. The room was void for most of his personal affects which hinted that he had already left the castle. There was a hole in the window above his desk, shards of glass scattered on the floor.

Mary swept them away with the curtains, it was probably best that she left and send her apology through a letter. She turned around but her eyes landed on the mess at his desk, there was an unfinished letter there and upon further inspection it seemed as if he’d forgotten to lock his desk drawer as well.

She didn’t know what came over her but a voice in her head urged her to read the letter, her curiosity made her pick it up. It was a letter addressed to King Antione of Navarre, Louis’s elder brother, detailing the events of yesterday. He gave a complete account of Francis’s illness and the situation is Scotland, he mentioned some sort of mission but the letter stopped before she could learn more. Knowing that Louis was sharing such sensitive information with the King of Navarre made her suspicious and she dug into his opened drawers, pulling out more correspondences and his personal diary.

She frantically flipped through the pages and was unable to believe what Louis and Antione had been up to for months. Scanning through the contents of the texts made her feel many emotions at once; at first, she was hurt and horrified at being betrayed by a man she thought she was safe with. She’d actually considered a future with him but he was only seducing her to get information and plot revenge against the House of Valois. Her hurt soon turned into righteous fury; he made a fool of her, tricked her into revealing her secrets and even worse, he was going to sell her out to Elizabeth, kill her husband and her sons.

“That traitorous bastard!”

She spat out in the empty room. Louis Bourbon messed with the wrong woman, she was not a damsel in distress he could use and toss aside for his ambitions. Mary was the Queen of Scotland and France, she was chosen by God to rule, she would not bend or break for any man. It was time to teach the Prince of Conde a lesson he would never forget.

Mary would give him a taste of his own medicine, turning him against his brother and making him spill all his dirty secrets before she had him beheaded for treason. She once told him that she would be the death of him; she just never knew how much she’d enjoy the prospect.

Mary just hoped that Francis would forgive her for what she had to do.

Chapter Text

The Queen of Scotland and France tightened the hood covering her face as she trekked deep into the forest to meet with Conde, with the summer season in full swing, finally the woods had become easy to navigate. When she reached their agreed upon spot, he was already there, leaning against his horse. He rushed to her side as she lowered the fabric hiding her face, his hands reaching for hers. They had exchanged numerous letters in the last five weeks since she asked him to leave court and she was glad that he seemed to accept her apologies. She knew that he would jump at the chance to reignite their affair, regardless of how she’d treated him.

“Oh Louis! How I’ve missed you. These past few weeks without you, I felt like I was dying.”

He smiled in triumph at her wide doe eyes and flushed cheeks.

“I spent time at my estate in Conde. I would’ve been here had you not sent me away.”

“You’re right. I was just so guilty after what Francis did for me that it felt wrong to take comfort in you.”

Louis frowned but forced a smile and asked with a warm voice.

“But you’re here now, what changed your mind?”

Your treasonous betrayal, for one; the thought crossed Mary’s mind but she suppressed her anger. Resisting the urge to jam her pocket knife in his throat, she widened her eyes and put on the mask of a scared, helpless girl.

“Things have changed since you last came to court. When the King learned of my betrayal, he was furious.”

“Did he hurt you?”

No matter what he planned, Louis still cared about Mary and never wished her any harm. She paused at the question and her hesitation seemed answer enough.

“Francis is different… maybe it’s the illness but all I know is that he’s changed for the worse. He terrifies me, Louis.”

Not as much as he should terrify you; once he learns of your treason, you will beg for death.

Mary clutched at his arms for support and gazed into his eyes with tears.

“Please Louis, you need to save me. Come back to court and protect me from our mad king.”

Louis took the opportunity to kiss her, she melted into his embrace and pressed herself even closer. The kiss became so passionate that Mary sunk her teeth into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. When she pulled away, her full lips were stained red, making her look feral in a way that drove him mad. She licked her lips and smiled at him brightly.

“I love you so much Louis. I know I can’t offer you much right now but I can offer myself. You have me.”

“And that is more than enough for me.”

Learning of the attack on the monastery full of little boys brought back her own memories of helplessness. The worst part was that the army that Francis sent to Scotland was still at sea, it would take the forces too long to arrive, time that they couldn’t lose. Mary and Francis tried their best to reassure the concerned parents that they were doing everything to help.

“None of this would be happening if our army was still on our soil!”

“Count; watch your tongue.”

Mary cut in before the aggrieved father could offend any further.

“I understand that you fear for your son but you are addressing your sovereign king.”

The man seemed to realize his error and took a step back, allowing Francis to answer.

“We will do everything in our power to return your sons to you, these rebels will be captured and hanged for their crimes.”

“We know that there is nothing more precious to a parent than their child, we will defend them the same way we would defend our own.”

Mary watched as Catherine guided the parents out of the throne room. She felt for them, the mere thought of someone harming her sons made her want to scream. That was why she wanted more than a simple execution for Conde, she wanted him to lose everything before she took his life. Francis must have noticed the troubled look on her face because he turned to her in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“I keep thinking how terrified those poor boys must be; I keep picturing James and Edward in their place and it’s heartbreaking. Trapped by violent men, not knowing if they would make it out alive; you can’t even imagine Francis.”

Her husband reached out tentatively to hold her hand and her head snapped up at his touch. Things between them had been so tense these past few weeks, they’d only started to talk when it came time to plan the twins’ first birthday. Feeling his touch and his concern brought a small smile to her lips.

“We will free those boys, Mary. You are safe here, with me. I won’t let anything hurt you or our sons.”

Mary took a leap of faith and raised their joined hands to her lips to place a small kiss onto his heated skin. Francis’s face brightened at her gesture and she thanked God for the chance to move forward with her husband.

Their sweet moment was quickly ruined when she saw Conde from the corner of her eye. She immediately pushed Francis away and schooled her expression into neutrality, lest Louis doubt her words from their meeting that morning and suspect her motives. When her husband followed her line of sight, he frowned and turned to her.

“I thought you’d banished Conde from court.”

“I was about to tell you that he’d returned but we had pressing matters.”

Francis’s face reddened with barely controlled rage.

“Did you ask him to return?”

“Francis it’s more complicated than that.”

Mary protested; she couldn’t explain things when Conde was eavesdropping but she also didn’t want her husband to think she was carrying on an affair.

“Did you invite him to court or not!?”

She stepped back at his angry roar, partly thankful as his reaction made it easier to convince Conde that the King truly was losing his mind.

“I did!”

“You lied to me.”

“If you would just let me explain…”

“Save your false apologies. You were going to abandon our marriage, our alliance and our children to run away with my cousin, I no longer care what you do.”

“Francis please…”

But he was already moving away from her, he gave her one last look of contempt.

“I am done.”

He strode out of the throne room as fast as his legs would take him, stopping beside Conde to shoot him a glare. Mary pressed the heels of her palms over her eyes, resisting the urge to tear out her hair in frustration.

Everything was going so well and Conde had to ruin the moment, if he hadn’t walked away then she wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from choking him with her hands. Every time Mary and Francis would come together, Conde would somehow find a way to insert himself between them. At first, she thought that it was merely a coincidence but now; having full knowledge of his treason made her see that it was all a part of his grand plan to destroy the Valois.

The Queen and her Ladies were having tea in her receiving room, pretending that nothing was amiss. Lola and Kenna had returned from a visit to Greer; they promised her that they wouldn’t tell Mary but they were finding it hard. Mary was still angry at the way that Francis had Bash tell her that he had relieved her of her duties for the day. It was just a sophisticated way of saying that her husband couldn’t stand the sight of her.

“I cannot fathom the kind of hatred that could make men attack children.”

Kenna sipped from her cup solemnly.

“The religious unrest has exposed us all to so much cruelty. Is there any update on the rescue?”

Lola turned to Mary for news but she only sighed, putting her cup to the side before shaking her head.

“I don’t know; Francis all but barred me from his study, I know just as much as you do.”

Kenna frowned at her brother-in-law’s actions.

“Is he angry about Conde? Mary, you should’ve expected that.”

“But you were so upset when he was ill, you told me you still loved him. Why would you entertain Conde if you still love Francis?”

Lola was confused at Mary’s actions; she didn’t understand her choice. The woman who broke down in front of her wouldn’t call her lover back to court. Mary mulled over her options before deciding to share her burdens with her friends. She wanted Francis to be the first to know but seeing as he wouldn’t talk to her at the moment, she could confide in her ladies.

“I didn’t call him back because I have feelings for him although he needs to think that.”

“Then why on earth would you jeopardize your relationship with Francis?”

Kenna blurted out.

“Because Conde is a traitor and I needed him here to prove it.”

Both her ladies wore equal expressions of bewilderment.

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t love me, he used me to get information. He is spying on Francis on his brother’s orders and he seduced me to get close to us.”

“Antione planned this?”

Kenna couldn’t believe how far Antione’s schemes went; he really was a manipulative bastard. She regretted ever letting him get close to her.

“I feel like an idiot for falling for his tricks.”

“Does Francis know?”

Lola asked Mary.

“I wanted to warn him before but once he saw Conde, he wouldn’t hear a word I say.”

Lola offered her help with Francis, the more Mary pulled away from him, the more he confided in her. She could convince him to hear her out, to give Mary a chance to explain.

“What will you do about Conde?”

“I will make him think that he is winning, I have let him believe that I am still in love with him.”

Kenna shook her head at the idea.

“It’s a dangerous plan, Mary”

“I have to Kenna; he and Antione are allied with England. Louis wants to present me to Elizabeth; in exchange she will support his claim to the French throne. If the Bourbons succeed, our entire family will be slaughtered.”

“They want war.”

Lola whispered in horror.

“They want Bourbon rule, Louis has agreed to marry Elizabeth; he will soon be King Consort of England and King of France if I don’t stop him.”

Kenna and Lola shared a glance before turning to their queen.

“We will do whatever we can to help you.”

Mary moved forward to wrap her arms around both her ladies, hugging them with gratitude and love in her heart. She’s felt so alone for so long and seeing the truth of Conde made her realize that she had so many people willing to help her in her time of need. She was so blinded by his manipulations that she pushed away the people who were truly at her side.

The rest of the day went so terribly. The team led by Bash failed spectacularly so they had no chance but to ask Lord Narcisse to lend the services of his associate; General Renaude. Trusting Narcisse never ended well for them but they desperately needed help, lives were at risk and if the only way to safe them was but accepting Narcisse’s offer of help then they had to take it.

Mary was waiting impatiently in her chambers for news of the mission when her guard announced the entry of Louis of Conde. The prince walked in with urgency that made her dread the conversation ahead.

“Louis, you shouldn’t be here, not so openly.”

“I am sorry Mary but I needed to talk to you.”

He explained the situation to her in a hurry; telling her that someone was framing him for orchestrating the attack on the monastery. He wanted to leave France before he was killed for being a traitor.

“Come with me Mary, let’s run away to Scotland now, before they kill me.”

His hands were clutching hers tightly, his expression was pleading and if she didn’t know any better, she would have fallen for his words. How clever he was; as if she would ever willingly return to her country with him, only to be handed to her enemy as a perverse wedding present.

“I can’t Louis, you know I can’t. Let me talk to Francis, convince him that you are innocent.”

“You said it yourself; he is dangerous. He could hurt you.”

Mary cupped his cheek, feigning love in her gaze.

“I will face the devil himself to save your life.”

When you die, dear Louis; it will be by my hand and no one else’s.

Louis breathed a sigh of relief when she agreed to protect him but he hated that she wouldn’t reconsider leaving for Scotland with him. If this continued, he might have to abandon the mission and marry Elizabeth before returning to France for a bid to the throne.

Mary spent the next hour in her husband’s study, trying to convince him to look at the facts before condemning Louis. Conde was guilty of treason but she couldn’t let him die right now; he had the backing of England, Navarre and every protestant in France. If Francis executed him for allying with extremists, it would only make him a martyr. She needed to know the extent of his dealings with England before she exposed his crimes.

The situation got out of hand merely hours later. It was the middle of the night when Francis burst into her chambers in a fit of rage.

“Did you know about this?!”

“About what?”

Mary was in bed, trying to drink herself to sleep and took her a while to get her bearings.

“Conde married Elizabeth by proxy tonight.”

“No.”

“The church where it happened was burned down but we don’t know if their union survived or if Conde left France as King Consort of England.”

“I thought I had more time… I needed to convince him to reject her offer.”

Mary muttered to herself, ignoring Francis completely. She was so sure that he wouldn’t marry Elizabeth until he delivered her Scotland and Mary. What made him push the wedding?

“So, you were aware that he was courting our worst enemy, your worst enemy. I sent troops to Scotland to honor your needs, your nation’s needs and still you chose to lie to me.”

 Francis breathed through flared nostrils.

“He vowed to reject her proposal for me.”

“And you believed him?”

“I was going to tell you, I needed to stop him because it was my fault. I was trying to do the right thing, if not as your wife, then as your queen.”

“An important distinction.”

He sneered and was met with a glare from his wife.

“I am not to blame for our distance any longer; I bore my heart to you and you threw me out, I have tried to be the wife you need but you keep pushing me away.”

She cried at him.

“Don’t play the victim Mary, you made me believe Conde was out of your life only to spring him on me. Even after he betrayed you, you defend him.”

“I am not defending him! If would just give me a chance to explain.”

“Enough! I don’t want to hear anymore. You have endangered us all; if Elizabeth gets a strong hold in France with Conde’s claim, it would mean the end of our reign.”

Francis didn’t wait for Mary to spew any more lies and betrayals; he spun around and stormed out, slamming the door shut on his way. Mary let out a loud curse at the world for not letting her have moment’s peace. She needed to do damage control, she needed to find Conde and get rid of him for good.

Conde was a threat to them and their rule, she needed to take him out. And if Francis wasn’t going to give her the benefit of the doubt to help her then she would get the job done herself. She knew how to keep her life and her crown, and she will do so by any means possible.

Chapter Text

The morning following Conde’s marriage to Elizabeth was spent sending every single man in Renaude’s army to sweep the country for any trace of the man. He was now a fugitive and a traitor to France.

“My men are searching relentlessly and we will find him, my lord.”

Renaude was in the study with Mary and Francis, delivering his report. So far, they hadn’t found him but when they did, Francis wanted him captured to be executed for treason.

“I know I have no right to ask but will you consider banishment instead of execution?”

Francis regarded her with open disdain now that they were alone.

“He betrayed your heart and married your greatest enemy, how are you willing to show him mercy?”

“Yes, he betrayed me. Don’t you think I feel that? I want him to explain himself to me.”

“He’s only going to lie to you.”

“I just want him out my life and killing him will only make him a martyr. We can’t afford to give our enemies a body to rally behind.”

He scoffed at her transparent attempt to make him believe that she was being reasonable in her request, Mary only wanted to spare Conde because she loved him.

“Conde is a French citizen who committed treason against his King; and the punishment for treason is death.”

The King of France watched as his wife’s face fell and she walked out of the room in disappointment. He didn’t understand what caused her to be so fiercely loyal to his cousin and it pained him to see her fighting for a man that wasn’t him. Maybe if he had been quick to forgive her after he woke, she wouldn’t have turned to Conde for love. She had seemed so sincere that morning; her dark circles and bloodshot eyes proved that she was just as affected by his illness as she claimed to be but he couldn’t find it in himself to risk getting his heart broken again.

Mary took matters into her own hands; she heard from Kenna and Lola about Greer’s new profession. It reminded her of Catherine’s Flying Squad and she decided to employ Greer’s working girls to help her track down Conde before Renaude’s men found him.

It took hours before she heard any news from Greer and she was dismayed to hear that the courtesans knew nothing of importance. She was just about to give up and let Francis deal with the aftermath of his bloody decision when she received a message from Conde.

Conde was waiting for her in their secret spot in the woods when she managed to leave the castle. Francis had come to try and make her see the importance of executing Conde, something about not letting him live because of his claim to the throne and it gave her the perfect way to deal with the problem with little bloodshed.

Mary resisted the urge to beat the man to death when he came close to her.

“What have you done?”

“I know what it looks like but I had no intention of harming you, it was a scheme that Antione forced me into.”

“You married my greatest foe! The Tudor queens have been trying to kill me since the moment I left my mother’s womb and you allied yourself with them.”

Mary screamed at him; angry tears were gathering in her eyes but she wiped them before he could think her weak.

“I am not married to her anymore! I am a dead man; Elizabeth’s envoy has abandoned me and Renaude’s men are everywhere. They will hunt me down to bring my head to Francis.”

“Why are you here Louis?”

“I came to beg for your forgiveness; to tell you how sorry I am, that my heart is still yours.”

And no doubt to ask for her help.

“Can’t you go to your brother? Seek refuge in Navarre.”

He shook his head.

“The borders are sealed; I can’t leave without getting captured. Francis is out for blood and you know it.”

Mary took the opening to offer her help. She knew that this was their plan all along but somehow, she doubted Conde expected his life to be in such danger. He looked desperate and she was relishing in the feeling of watching him crash and burn.

“Francis won’t even notice you slipping away. I will help you escape, forge official papers concealing your identity.”

Conde reached forward to take her hand.

“Thank you, Mary.”

“But I want something in exchange.”

“What?”

“Reassurance that you will never be used as a weapon against me or my children.”

“I swear to you that as long as I live, I will not allow my claim to harm you. I will never ally against your enemies again.”

Mary responded to the words with a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“I am glad to hear it but I need more that just your word. I need something to hold in my hands.”

She dug into the satchel at her waist and retrieved a document and a pen.

“Sign away your claim to the French throne, make sure that Elizabeth can never use you against me and I will protect you till the day I die.”

Louis blinked at her request and hesitated.

“Why do have that on you? You came prepared?”

Mary smiled at him and lied through her teeth.

“Louis, I love you. I was never going to let you die.”

The day went by slower than ever, perhaps it was long because of summer or it was because of the anticipation. Mary had just received news that Renaude has successfully captured Conde and she didn’t know what to feel. She stepped out onto the shared balcony of the royal wing only to see that she was not alone. Bash was leaning against a pillar, watching the sun setting in the horizon.

“You look miserable.”

Mary commented as she came to stand beside him; it made Bash snap out of his thoughts to flash her a weak smile.

“And you look nothing like someone who’s lover is sentenced to die.”

“Conde married Elizabeth; I never held any hope for him.”

 Bash observed her nonchalant attitude with furrowed brows.

“You don’t seem very torn up about it.”

“I’ll tell you why if you tell me why you’re brooding out here.”

Mary nudged his shoulder in affection.

“My marriage is over. A part of me knew that we didn’t have the best foundation but we hoped that our love would be enough.”

She sighed at how familiar the sentiment was to her.

“I’ve come to learn that love doesn’t conquer all. Marriages require constant work.”

Bash turned to her with a frown.

“Then why aren’t you and Francis working on fixing yours? Why did you turn to Conde when we were all willing to help you through your trauma?”

Mary leaned her head on Bash’s chest before thinking about her answer.

“I was in a very dark place when Louis began wooing me, he felt easier to please because he had no expectations of me. He wasn’t linked to my attack so he felt like the safe choice.”

“And now he has become a danger to our nation.”

“I have been so lost and now I fear that Francis and I can’t find our way back.”

“Kenna and I certainly have nothing left to salvage but you and my brother do. Francis still loves you and I know that you love him.”

She was skeptical about the hope in his voice.

“I don’t know about him and how are you sure that I love him? You just mentioned my affair.”

Bash smiled fondly at her.

“I know my brother and I like to think that I know you. Every time you have been made to chose between Francis and anyone else, when it came to a real choice; you chose Francis.”

The confidence with which he said it reminded Mary that Bash spoke with experience.

“Oh Bash! I didn’t even notice the parallels.”

He snorted a laugh at the mortification on her face.

“It’s alright Mary. But yes; I walked this path first and I have first hand experience that what you and my brother share is special.”

“I have been a terrible person lately.”

“It’s never too late to make amends. Fight for your marriage Mary, don’t give up on him and don’t allow him to give up on you.”

Mary beamed at her brother-in-law.

“I will Bash. And you shouldn’t give up on Kenna either, if your relationship is really as bad as you say then at least talk about your problems. Get some closure.”

Mary giggled at the way he frowned at the prospect of talking about his problems.

“Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime.”

That night, Mary waited for her husband in his chambers. She was taking Bash’s advice to heart and the first step in making amends was to tell him the truth about her fake relationship with Conde after he returned to court. She had even brought the document on which Conde signed away his claim, Francis’s signature was all that was required before they could file the document. She poured them both a glass of his favorite wine.

Francis entered the chambers with clenched fists and flared nostrils, while it was nothing new to see him angry today, Mary had been hoping for a more agreeable version of her husband tonight. When she offered him the wine with a smile he refused it with a huff.

“What do you want now?”

He spat.

“I wished to talk.”

“After what you did today, I think you’ve lost the right to say anything to me.”

Mary’s eyebrows knitted together in bafflement.

“I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

“Conde was rescued by English soldiers enroute back to the castle.”

Horror crept up her spine and her hands flew to cover her gasp.

“That’s impossible!”

Francis cocked his head at her, his clenched teeth spitting out the words.

“Why do you seem so surprised that he fled? Didn’t you orchestrate his escape? He had official papers, which means you helped him.”

“Francis I can explain everything.”

But her husband was on a rampage and would listen to a word.

“Do you really love him that much? You set him lose and now he has England’s support. Conde’s army is loyal to him personally, we have an enemy army on our soil with swords pointed at our throats. This is the most dangerous thing you have ever done, you put his safety above all of France.”

Mary didn’t know what possessed her to snap at him but suddenly she couldn’t tolerate any more of his accusations.

“Oh, for God’s sake Francis; shut up!”  

A deafening silence followed her screamed words.

“Did you just tell me to shut up?”

“Yes; you’ve said enough in the past two days and I have listened to your accusations with no protest. Now I will talk and you will listen.”

“What could you possibly have to say to make up for your blunder?”

“I didn’t help him escape because I love him, I don’t; in fact, I loathe him even more than you do.”

“Stop lying to me! You made me believe that your affair was over when it wasn’t.”

Mary ignored his outrage and continued with her story.

“The morning after you woke up, I went to his room to apologize for being so harsh in my dismissal, I felt bad for hurting him but he’d already left. Instead, I found his correspondences and personal journal.”

Now Francis was listening with interest.

“He had letters from English ambassadors and Antione all about the same subject. The alliance with England and the fall of our reign.”

“Are you telling me that you found proof of his treachery and you didn’t tell me?”

“I was going to tell you when you would be willing to listen. He betrayed me; he never loved me.”

“He wanted you from the second he arrived, Mary.”

“He was obsessed with me yes. Antione tasked him with seducing me to get information about you, he was a spy.”

Francis saw the way she lowered her lashes at the admission that she was used by him, she must feel humiliated at the way Conde treated her.

“There’s more isn’t it?”

“When you fell ill, you postponed the plan for Scotland. You saved my life and you didn’t even know it.”

“How was your life at risk in Scotland?”

“Francis, we were never staying in Scotland. Conde was going to take me to England, deliver me and my nation to Elizabeth in exchange for her hand in marriage. He was going to sell us out to become King Consort of England and then King of France.”

Instead of saying anything, Francis reached for the wine on the table and gulped down a generous helping.

“I don’t understand one thing. If Conde was such a threat, then why did you help him flee execution?”

“Because killing him would only inflame our enemies against us; I didn’t say it this morning to save him, making him a martyr would be bad for us.”

Mary reached for the contract on the table next to the wine and handed it to him.

“What’s this?”

“The reason why I helped Conde keep his life. In exchange for safe passage out of France, I made him sign away his claim to the French throne.”

Francis swiftly opened the page to reveal the contract and Conde’s signature, along with Mary’s.

“By signing this contract, Conde has made himself useless to his supporters and to England. Elizabeth will never marry him now. He’s powerless, all that’s left is your signature and Louis will be nothing but an ordinary noble.”

“There will come a day when we can execute a prominent protestant noble without repercussions but that day is not today, France’s religious situation cannot handle such a spark.”

Without wasting any time, the King of France signed the document rendering his cousin powerless. Once they sent it for filing at the Papal Court, Conde will no longer pose any danger to his rule. It was all thanks to his wife, her tricks and her efforts to rid them of Conde without any bloodshed. That was the thought that made him look at her and truly appreciate her after so long.

“I’d forgotten what it was like to have you on my side.”

He admitted to her.

“I have made a terrible mess of things but my heart is still yours, I am still yours.”

Mary came closer to him, her hands cupping his cheeks so he could meet her eyes.

“I am sorry for pushing you away these past few weeks and for being so cold that day. Your confession truly was beautiful and I threw it in your face.”

“It’s alright Francis; I earned your mistrust but I will strive to win it back. I want us to commit our hearts to each other, to work together instead of apart.”

“It won’t be easy; you and I have spent months hurting one another.”

Francis saw the way her face fell before she tried to seem hopeful, he leaned his forehead on hers to comfort her.

“Will you at least promise to try? Can you give me, give us a real chance? I want to earn your forgiveness, your love.”

“You never lost my love, Mary.”

Mary heard what he didn’t say; that he wasn’t ready to forgive her yet.

“But I will try to put our past behind me; I want you, Mary. I want us to be a family again and to be happy together instead of apart.”

“I will make this right Francis, I promise you.”

Her earnest vow melted away the ice in his heart. He had hardened himself towards her and waited for her next betrayal, when he came into his chambers and saw her, he had every intention of kicking her out. But, knowing the lengths she went to protect them and avenge them made him change his mind. While there was a lot, he had yet to forgive her for, he could put his anger aside for tonight.

Francis reached for her waist to pull her flush against him, a small smile graced his lips as he brushed them against hers. The chaste peck soon turned heated when Mary opened her mouth to her husband’s kiss, tasting him after so long. Husband and wife made their way to bed, shedding their clothing as they went. It was a long time before either of them found sleep but when they did, it was in each other’s arms. For the first time in months, the King and Queen of France and Scotland slept in the same bed.

Chapter Text

A messenger rode of at the crack of dawn from Chateau de Fontainebleau with very specific orders. The King of France and Scotland had highlighted the significance of the contract in his grasp; he was to make no stops on the way before handing the papers to the Vatican’s representative in Paris. The journey was long but he had to be swift, he wasn’t told much but the safety of his nation depended on the message reaching its destination.

Halfway through his journey, the messenger took a small break in the woods to water his horse. Just as he was about to mount his horse to leave, he heard a rustling in the trees. He drew his sword but he was only one man, twenty men charged at him at once on horses. As valiantly as he tried to fight, it was only a matter of time before he fell.

The soldiers secured the perimeter and set up camp; allowing their Lord Ambassador and future King to enter the clearing on their mounts. One of the men emptied the messenger’s satchel still hung around his corpse and singled out the paper sealed with the royal crest.

“Is this the contract my, lord?”

Lord Akers opened the sealed contract and handed it to Conde.

“You remember the agreement? Queen Elizabeth only rescued you for the promise of a Protestant France under your rule and Queen Mary’s head.”

Conde felt a twinge of guilt at completely betraying the woman who saved him but his life and his family was more precious to him that the affections of a fickle queen.

“If I destroy this contract before it is filed then it never existed.”

“That is correct.”

Conde took the paper from Lord Akers’s hand and walked over to the roaring campfire. Unceremoniously, Louis dropped it into the flames and watched it burn until it was nothing but ashes. When the job was done, he saw the men around him bow.

Lord Akers raised his chin in approval.

“You made the right decision; from this moment you’re no longer the Prince of Conde. You will be known henceforth as King Louis of France.”

Three weeks later.

It was late into the morning when the queen awoke from her slumber, she stretched her limbs with a yawn and sighed at the feeling of cool, silk sheets against her bare skin. She reached out to the other side of the bed only to find it empty; she sat up in disappointment and searched the bedchambers for her husband.

Francis was seated at his desk in his dressing robe, his hair a disarray and his lips pursed in concentration as he read from a paper, his quill pen fiddling in his hand. A tea cup was placed on the desk, which made Mary guess that he’d been awake for a while. She got up and donned on her robe before walking over to him.

“Good morning.”

Francis accepted the kiss from his wife and smirked at her.

“It’s been morning for quite some time, my love.”

She sent him a mock glare at his teasing.

“Someone kept me up last night.”

He grinned at the innuendo but soon turned serious when the events of the night flashed in his mind.

“Did you figure out why the twins were fighting? I didn’t even know babies could fight.”

“Edward is finally cutting a tooth so he’s uncharacteristically cranky, he was picking fights with everyone, and you know how James responds to chaos.”

Mary had stayed with the boys until dawn and when she’d returned, she was coaxed into a relaxing bath by her husband, which turned indecent vey quickly. He probably felt guilty for her long night, so he let her sleep in.

“Can you believe in nine days; it would be a year since they were born?”

Francis had mixed feelings about his sons’ birthday, while he was bursting with joy at having them in his life, a part of him will always regret not being present for their birth. Especially with the knowledge that he was so close to losing his sons and his wife that day, he hoped that any future children would arrive with less ceremony.

“I still remember the day I found out I was pregnant; I was still engaged to Bash and you were in Paris. I was terrified.”

He saw the ghost of a smile on her lips and reached to trace it with his thumb.

“I’m here now and the next time you give birth, I will be at your side. Propriety be damned.”

Instead of feeling better all his words did were increase the anxiety in her chest at the idea. She wanted to confess her fears to him, keeping secrets never worked out well for their relationship. The second she opened her mouth to speak, she was interrupted by a sharp knock at their door.

A servant entered the King’s chambers with a letter and handed it to him before leaving. Francis read through the message with furrowed brows; his teeth clenching the only indication that it was bad news. He crumbled the paper in his fist and threw it at the wall in a fit of rage, Mary stepped back in shock to see him seething.

“What’s wrong?”

“That was a message from the Vatican in Rome.”

When Francis sent the contract to be filed; he wrote to the Vatican of the development.

“Is this about the contract? Are they creating a fuss?”

“Mary, the contract never made it to Rome, or even to Paris.”

She looked at him in horror at the implication.

“Are you saying that there is no proof that Conde surrendered his claim?”

“He’s with Elizabeth’s men, there’s nothing stopping them from attacking us.”

Francis and Mary immediately jumped into action; they were at war for weeks and didn’t know it. No one had any idea what kind of strength Conde had amassed in such a long time, they needed to act now.

Within an hour, every man in Renaude’s army had mobilized to search for Conde or any informant to learn of his plans. The castle guards were alerted to prevent any enemy entry into their home. At the moment, Renaude and Bash were in the King’s study, meeting with them to discuss strategy and report on the current situation.

“My men have tried to track Conde’s location in the areas where he was last sighted but there’s no sign of him.”

Renaude explained as he pointed to a marked map.

“Is it possible that he’s in England? Or Navarre?”

Bash asked.

“No. The plan was to take France and Scotland before going to England. Elizabeth is too cautious to cement their alliance without a clear victory.”

Mary cut in; she had filled in Bash on Conde’s schemes and as the King’s Deputy he was in possession of the copies she made from Conde’s letters and journal.

“There are reports that some of his men were seen in the Bouconne Forest.”

Renaude supplied. Francis thought over the intel.

“He could be gathering his armies there; I want that forest searched.”

The General took his orders and left the study, preparing to depart immediately.

“Bash, I want you to ready the castle guards in case of an assault.”

When the King and Queen were left alone, Francis sagged in his chair with a hand in his hair. He was tired and frustrated. His wife poured him a glass of sweetened wine to make him feel energized.

“I know you are worried; I am too but you can’t let this stress make you ill.”

“Of course I am worried; Conde is planning a coup and the bulk of our army is in Scotland.”

Mary heard the unspoken accusation; they were weak because her nation needed troops and they were at risk because she didn’t kill Conde when she had the chance.

“Withdraw the troops from Scotland then; if you really think it will help.”

Francis shook his head at her.

“There’s no point; they won’t make it back in time and it would only look like we’re folding on another front.”

“What about our allies then? King Philip should help us, not only is he your brother-in-law he’s James’s godfather. This coup is a threat to our entire line.”

Mary suggested.

“I have already written to him and he wants to see a clear and imminent threat before sending forces. Not just a lost message and my fears and conjecture about what my wife’s former lover might do.”

Francis sneered the last part and while she knew he was on edge; it didn’t stop the hurt from showing on her face.

“You know I am sorry about Conde.”

He inhaled and exhaled loudly to calm himself.

“I know… I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.”

Mary leaned against his seat and combed her fingers through his golden curls.

“When I leaned of Conde’s treachery, I called back my mercenaries from Scotland. They arrived just this morning, I know fifty men are not an army but they’re trained killers.”

Mary had sent John and the men she took from Hortenza de Medici to Scotland to provide protection to her mother. Now with the French army there and her mother confined to her chambers because of her illness, there was no point in keeping such an elite force away. The men respected her and were loyal to her, it was the best way to protect her family.

“Every man is valuable when we are so outnumbered.”

Conde’s plans became clear when he attacked their weaponry in Toulouse and spared one soldier to return to the castle with a warning that he was coming.

“He said that you could either surrender peacefully or die.”

Francis sent the man with Bash to share the details with his team.

“Tell Renaude to return with his army and send word to King Philip. We have an uprising to crush.”

They called every member of the royal family to return to the castle so they could be evacuated to safety. Mary’s mercenaries were tasked with protecting the family and many men were sent to Bash’s team to defend the castle.

Mary went to the nursery to bring her sons to the throne room where they were all to gather. Catherine and Claude were probably on their way and she wanted time with her husband and their children before that. While the Queen Mother was aware that she had made amends with Francis, she did not know of Conde’s treason yet and loathed Mary for her part in his coup.

Francis took James from her when she came back, while Edward clung to her. The boys couldn’t comprehend the gravity of the situation but they could sense the somber mood.

“This is all my fault; I should have killed him weeks ago.”

“There’s no point in placing blame, he would’ve done this even if you didn’t fall for his tricks.”

Mary clutched the blonde baby to her and leaned her head against her husband’s chest, listening to the beating of his heart, James patted her head and babbled in his baby language.

“Promise me you won’t surrender.”

Francis immediately protested.

“I will do whatever is necessary to protect our people.”

Mary pulled away with narrowed eyes.

“What’s best for our people is to keep them from falling victim to England. Conde is not fit to rule, if you surrender; France will be nothing more than an English Colony.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“Don’t give up your crown Francis. Kill Conde before he has the chance to kill you.”

Francis pressed a lingering kiss on his wife’s temple before doing the same to their sons, he wasn’t sure what the outcome of Conde’s rebellion would be but he wanted to make sure his family was secure. Soon, the rest of the family filed into the throne room with John and a few of his men following suit.

Every royal would leave with guards and a Queen’s guard; that was the name Bash had given to the elite force under John’s command. The former mercenaries were tactical and brutal, they would protect the family members at all cost.

“Every single member of the royal family will be evacuated. Charles, Henry and Margot are safe in Florence; the rest of you will scatter across the country and be ready to flee at a moment’s notice.”

Claude didn’t like the idea of leaving her home at all, she crossed her arms over her chest with a huff and narrowed her eyes at her sister-in-law.

“Why should we run off? This is all your fault you know? None of this would be happening if not your infidelity.”

Mary lowered her gaze in shame but Francis wasn’t having any of it.

“That’s enough Claude, she is still your queen.”

Catherine was watching the scene with an amused smile; her son had vehemently warned her against any action to hurt her selfish daughter-in-law but her wayward daughter never did learn to hold her tongue.

Francis walked over to Lola; she was cradling his nine-month-old son in her arms. He stroked the downy blonde hair on his head and leaned down to kiss it. The little boy waved his hands at his father and gave him a gummy smile. Francis summoned a guard over to hand him the small blanket he’d had commissioned for little Jean.

“I was saving it for his first birthday but now is a good time as any. Should something happen to me, tell him every day how much his father loved him. Raise him with Mary so my sons are never apart.”

Lola held his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“I pray that it never comes to that.”

On the other side of the room, Mary was handing over the Princes to their nannies. Edward and James would be sent to separate safe houses to protect the line of succession. It was also the reason why Mary wouldn’t be able to accompany either of her sons, if something should happen to the boys the queen was needed for more heirs. She gave specific instructions to the Queen’s guards appointed to protect her children.

“Guard them with your life and protect them from anyone who attempts to hurt them. If the King falls, then I will meet with you in Scotland.”

She walked over to her husband with melancholy in her eyes. She didn’t want to leave him or her babies.

“I don’t want to leave you. I want to be at your side as you face Conde.”

He gave her a fond smile, taking her into his arms to kiss her hard enough to leave bruises, pouring all his love and devotion into it.

“You are so strong Mary but I’m not. I failed to protect you once, I won’t make that mistake again. I need to know that you’re safe.”

She cupped his cheek and stroked the skin there with her thumb.

“Very well then. As long as you promise to fight as hard as you can. I just got you back, I will not lose you Francis.”

They were both lost in the moment; fearing for the other, fearing that they’d never get the chance to mend all the cracks in their marriage. The spell was broken when Catherine pointedly cleared her throat to get their attention. Francis stepped away from his wife to turn to his mother, preparing to send her off as well.

Catherine stopped him with the wave of her hand.

“There’s no need for the melodrama and the farewells.”

“But Mother.”

“I won’t be leaving this castle, if you’re staying then I am too.”

Francis protested the arrangement but relented at her stern glare and unyielding posture. So, it was decided that every single Valois will be evacuated except for the Queen Mother, who will go down with the ship, standing at her son’s side.

Mary felt a nagging at her subconscious, a feeling that something was wrong. They were riding to the safe house with General Renaude’s men but their behavior made her feel like something was off. It soon became apparent that her instincts were correct when she saw that they were going towards Conde’s camp instead of away. Her guards engaged the traitors while she escaped by horse, John following her back to the castle. She had to hurry and warn Francis that Renaude had switched sides.

Back at the castle, a battle broke out against Renaude and his men. The royal guards and Queen’s guards fought to defend the castle from the traitors. Francis and Bash worked together to lead their men while their wives watched from a safe distance. Kenna was so worried for Bash’s safety during the fight, proving Mary’s point that their marriage could be salvaged. Now that her and Francis had put the past behind them, she wanted Bash and Kenna to do the same. She didn’t want the Bourbon brothers to ruin their lives any more than they had.

After they had captured Renaude, he was thrown into the dungeons awaiting sentencing. Mary spent some time with Kenna to bring her comfort. While she knew she had no right to disapprove, it hurt her to see Bash and Kenna trying to end their marriage, moving on with others. She had tried to hide her displeasure when Bash had introduced her to his new lover; Delphine.

“I’m sorry that Renaude turned on us, his betrayal must hurt you.”

Mary squeezed her friend’s shoulder.

“He will never give me the life I want. He was so unapologetically ambitious that it made me feel understood, he didn’t judge me for wanting the finer things in life.”

“Not like Bash, you mean.”

Kenna lowered her gaze so she wouldn’t see her embarrassment at the admission.

“I love Bash but he always hated that I wanted more than what we had.”

“Bash feels like he’ll never be enough for you. Your desire for something great made him feel inadequate; like the bastard that everyone else thinks him to be.”

Mary had such a special bond with Sebastian but Kenna was one of her oldest friends, it was hard not to pick a side.

“Urgh! I wish I had the kind of husband you have. Francis is so kind, loving and supportive of you; he even allowed you to have Conde if it made you happy.”

Kenna bemoaned her situation; Mary truly did have it all.

“Francis is not perfect Kenna. And no matter how much we love each other, our duty to our nations always comes first. Every relationship is unique, I can’t tell you what to do but if there’s any part of you that still wants to be with Bash then talk to him.”

The truth was that Mary wanted the people she loved to be happy and somehow talking to Bash that day made her realize that she wanted to help him salvage his relationship with Kenna. Kenna groaned loudly before clutching her hair in despair.

“Even if I wanted to fix things Mary, I can’t go to Bash.”

“Kenna why would you think that? Bash is ready to give you another chance.”

She looked at her queen with a defeated expression.

“I am with child Mary and it’s not my husband’s.”

It took a second for Mary to connect the dots and her mouth fell open when she did.

“General Renaude?”

Kenna choked on a sob as her friend pulled her in her arms.

“I am carrying a traitor’s bastard Mary; I will be ruined!”

Kenna rushed off to find her King and Queen after her talk with Renaude in the dungeons. It brought her a sense of vindication that the man she chose to be with wasn’t a true traitor but simply a pawn caught in the schemes of the English Queen. He’d only been trying to save his son; she could understand that. She caught up to Francis and Mary just before they were about to retire to their chambers for the night.

“Thank God; I found you. Renaude wanted to tell you about Conde’s plans. He doesn’t have only his army and Renaude’s but thanks to Elizabeth’s gold, he bought the armies of dozens of protestant lords.”

Kenna had just finished her tale when Bash jogged over to them, he was out of breath and wracked with panic.

“You have to come and see this.”

They followed Bash to the castle walls; even in the dead of night the men surrounding the Chateau were clear to see. They were vastly outnumbered; Francis and Mary exchanged a glance of trepidation.

“They started arriving in the last hour or so; at least nine hundred men by what I can see.”

Francis clenched his jaw in stubbornness.

“Prepare every able-bodied person in the castle; we will not surrender without a fight. This is my country; I won’t be intimidated or bullied into giving it up.”

Mary regarded her husband with a rush of pride and saw that Bash was felling the same way as he nodded at his brother, leaving to carry out his orders.

An hour later found the King of France leaving the castle alone atop his horse to meet with Conde. He had requested a one-on-one meeting and Francis had accepted even when his wife begged him not to. He needed to face the man who was trying to usurp him and destroy his house.

Conde was waiting on his own stead for him, his chin raised in challenge at the man responsible for so much suffering to his nation since his coronation.

“I don’t appreciate being summoned by a traitor.”

Francis glared at his cousin.

“I wanted to give you a chance to the right thing for once in your life.”

The King rolled his eyes at Conde’s show of self-righteousness.

“How ironic for you to talk about the right thing, seeing as you seduced my wife. How did that work for you? Mary is with me where she belongs and here you stand; all on your lonesome.”

Conde snarled at his arrogance.

“Surrender peacefully Francis and every life will be spared.”

“You’re mad if you think I will give up my crown so easily just because you asked.”

“If you surrender now, Mary will be spared.”

Francis barked a sardonic laugh at him; he really was delusional.

“As if I will entrust the safety of my wife to you. Mary is Elizabeth’s chief rival; she will never rest until Mary is dead.”

Conde shook his head.

“She will if I make her my wife, she can convert to Protestantism and no longer pose any threats to Elizabeth.”

“And my sons? Will you spare them too? Or will you have them killed to rid yourself of any threats to your reign?”

The way his cousin hesitated at the question made Francis scowl in disgust.   

“You wasted your time, Conde; I reject your offer. I have no intention of giving up without a fight.”

“You really think you can still win? Look around you Francis, you’re pathetically outnumbered. If you still think that King Philip will send troops then let me disappoint you. Your letters never made it to Spain, there is no help on the way.”

Francis narrowed his eyes at Conde’s smug grin.

“What on earth are you rambling about?”

He was answered by Conde revealing the head of one of his messengers.

“I gave you a chance to save your people and you chose to keep your head. Now I will make you watch as my armies slaughter everyone under your protection, I’ll make sure to save you for last.”

Conde maneuvered his horse to trot off behind his army and Francis took that as the chance to return to the castle.

Mary was waiting for him in their bedchambers and she jumped into his arms the second he crossed the threshold. She was tightly holding on to his riding leathers.

“I was so worried that he would hurt you.”

Francis kissed her hair as she tucked her head under his chin.

“Even Conde wouldn’t break tradition and attack during a peaceful meeting. It would paint him as a brute in front of his supporters.”

“What did he want besides your surrender?”

“You.”

Mary was taken aback by his answer and she pulled away from his embrace to read his eyes for any sign of deceit but of course she didn’t find any. Her husband would never lie to her.

“Me? Conde wants me? He was lying to provoke you, I read his journal and he gave no clue that his feelings for me were genuine.”

“No Mary; I saw his face when he said he wanted to make you his wife, he was sincere.”

“I hope you laughed in his face; the only think I want from that man is the pleasure of slitting his throat.”

Francis chuckled at her bloodlust despite the dark mood.

“He loves you Mary and he wants to protect you. If I thought even for a second that he could protect you from Elizabeth then I would’ve been tempted to agree to his terms.”

“Surrender your crown? Don’t be ridiculous.”

His wife admonished. He leaned down to press his lips to her in a soft kiss.

“I am a King but I am also a husband and a father. If I had a guarantee that my death would keep you safe then I would give my life in a heartbeat.”

Mary moved to sit in front of the roaring fire and bit her lip thoughtfully, her brows crinkled in concentration.

“Are you sure that he loves me?”

Francis frowned at her question, not sure why it mattered to her.

“Yes, I’m certain. What are you planning Mary?”

She reached out to grab his hands in hers, she widened her eyes so he could see the love and devotion in them before she shared her plan.

“I know you still don’t trust me completely and it’s fine, God knows I deserve it.”

“Mary…”

“I need you to believe in me, I need you to remember that I chose you and I love you. I am truly yours and I will be for the rest of my life.”

Instead of replying to her declaration with words he didn’t have; Francis chose to show her. He pulled her towards him, trailing kisses down her neck and reaching her cleavage with his lips. Soon, they were shedding their clothing and leaving a trail of fabric from the hearth to their bed. If this really was there last night in the world, then Francis would rather spend it in bed with his wife.

Sometime after midnight; the Queen tiptoed out of her rooms, leaving her sleeping husband in bed. She crept into the secret passages until it led her outside the castle. Her journey to the enemy camp was short and she tried to conceal her identity.

Mary reached the army encamped outside her home and was escorted to Conde’s tent by his page. She lifted the flap to enter the tent, schooling her face into terror and desperation before stepping inside. Conde’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw who had disturbed him.

“Mary? What are you doing here?”

“Please Louis! You have to save me.”

He leapt to his feet to hold her shaking form, rubbing circles on her back to calm her hysteric whimpers.

“What’s wrong? Is it Francis?”

“He is going to kill me, Louis. He has charged me with adultery.”

“That’s not possible, he loves you. He said he’d protect you.”

“I tried to run away with you. Then I helped you escape; I have committed treason Louis and there’s proof of it. Physical proof of my love for you.”

Louis cupped her flushed cheeks.

“Hey; you can tell me anything, you know I will always listen to you.”

Mary looked into his eyes and opened her mouth to make her opening move.

“Louis; I am pregnant with your child. Please protect us.”

Chapter Text

Francis woke up just before dawn after a restless sleep to an empty bed; the space that his wife should have occupied was cold, indicating that she’s been gone for quite some time. At first, he shot up in panic at her disappearance but then her words the night before trickled back into his memory. Mary was playing a dangerous game and he was worried for her safety. He also knew the warrior queen that he had married, if Mary wanted to fight to protect their nations, then he would put aside his skepticism and chose to trust her. Regardless of their relationship, Mary would do the right thing as his queen, he had to have faith in her.

The King surveyed the castle, trying to boost morale in his severely depleted fighters and prayed that whatever Mary had planned worked or they would all die. It was indeed a good sign that Conde’s army had yet to attack the castle as he’d promised last night. Francis decided to return to his study to attend to the mountain of paperwork constantly stacked at his desk and called for a servant to send him his breakfast there.

He was peacefully working on correspondences that he would dispatch the second that the siege was lifted when the doors to his study slammed open to reveal Catherine de Medici. His mother stormed in bristling with fury.

“I warned you not to trust her!”

Francis straightened in his seat to give her his full attention.

“What happened Mother?”

“Your whore of a wife is what happened.”

He saw red at her words, slamming his hands on his desk, he stood up to glare at his mother.

“Do not ever speak about my wife in such a way again! Am I clear?”

Catherine’s jaw dropped at the rage in her son, she had never seen him like that.

“Mary was seen going to Conde’s camp of her own volition. She has betrayed you yet again and still you defend her?”

Francis sighed; he supposed to an onlooker it would seem to be a traitorous act.

“I know she’s there, Mother.”

“You told her about Conde’s offer to protect and she didn’t waste any time before running into his arms. Maybe even she thinks you’ll surrender to protect her while she can be happy with her lover.”

“Mother, there are reasons behind her actions that are too sensitive to share.”

Whatever protests that Catherine was about to make were interrupted when Sebastian entered the study.

“Francis, you need to come and see this.”

Both of them followed Bash out to the walls of the castle where archers were mounted to fend off any attack. The army surrounding their home that had looked so intimidating merely hours ago was now scattering in no particular formation like a gang of headless chicken.

“What are they doing?”

Francis couldn’t make sense of the scene.

“They are panicked; I don’t understand it at all.”

The King grinned at his brother, his eyes glistening with pride.

“I know exactly what’s happening, Mary has come through.”

Bash frowned.

“Does this have something to do with the package she had me deliver to Greer before she left?”

“My wife has just given us the opening we need to attack.”

“But Francis; even divided, Conde’s army is too large. Our men will balk at the idea.”

Francis merely smiled and patted Bash on the shoulder.

“Which is why I will lead the charge.”

Moments later found the King in his armor, leading the cavalry into the enemy camp where men were screaming and running in terror. Conde’s army offered no resistance and they were dealt with way too quickly. While his men dealt with the fleeing troops, Francis headed off in search for Conde and his queen.

A few hours earlier

Mary nibbled on a piece of bread that Louis had sent her to break her fast; if he wasn’t hell bent on killing everyone she loved, she might have found his fussing sweet. Since the moment she arrived at his camp, Conde had dotted on her and shown such tenderness for her condition that it was difficult to imagine him as the same man who pursued her just to spy on her husband.

She’d not seen much of him since the sun rose, seeing as he was busy with battle preparations but she had done enough to stall the attack by lying and telling him that Francis had ordered siege cannons and they’d arrived last night. It had brought her a few hours to put her plan in action, she hoped that Greer would come through without any danger to her ladies.

Soon enough, the tent flap was lifted and Conde stepped inside. He had gone to share the news of canons with his captain and have the siege guns brought up front, the whole process would delay the attack by hours.

“How are you feeling?”

His eyes were crinkled in concern.

“Like I’m betraying everyone in the castle, can we please just leave?”

Conde clenched his teeth before biting back any anger.

“I came here to take the French throne; I am not going anywhere until either me or Francis is dead.”

Mary’s nostrils flared at his determination; the longer he persisted against Francis and her, the more he’d insure his death.

“What will happen when you become King? What would our lives be like?”

He walked over to sit beside her, his hand covering hers on the small wooden table.

“I will become King and you will stand beside me; I will cherish you and love you for the rest of our lives.”

She tried to smile through her growing disgust at his mere touch.

“Stand beside you; as your queen? You told Francis you wished to wed me.”

Conde’s smile faltered and his gaze flickered away from her.

“That is what I said didn’t I? There’s a problem with that plan; my engagement to Elizabeth still holds and she only funded this rebellion for the promise of a protestant France under her rule and mine.”

Mary feigned indignation at his pathetic attempt at justifying himself.

“So, you will still marry her? What about me? What of our child? Do you expect me to be content with being your mistress? Our child a bastard?”

“Mary, you have to understand.”

Conde tried to explain himself but she wretched herself free from his grip.

“I understand nothing Louis. I left my husband for you! Will you really humiliate me by making me your mistress and parading me around my court? I am the Queen of France and Scotland! I am no one’s concubine.”

He held her by her shoulders to try and calm her temper but she was still spitting fire.

“You’re right, I will keep my word and marry you right after we take the castle. Our child will be born legitimate and your reputation will be salvaged.”

She let out a sigh of relief and plastered on a pleased grin.

“Thank you for being so good to me.”

“Always.”

There was silence in the camp before Mary asked him something that was nagging at her for a while. She needed to know if Conde really was someone capable of the monstrosities he’d mentioned in his journal.

“Louis?”

“Hmm?”

“What will become of my children after Francis falls? I know what happens to heirs of deposed Kings but they are my sons, I need to keep them safe from harm.”

“They will be protected with us Mary.”

She searched his brown eyes for an answer and recoiled from him when she saw the insincerity in them.

“You’re lying. You have no intention of letting James or Edward live.”

Conde accepted her accusation with little protest.

“I can’t let any threat to my throne remain free. I must rid myself of any person or thing that would endanger my rule and I know that they are your sons but they are more than that; they have a stronger claim to the throne. I cannot let them live.”

It was at this very moment that Louis of Conde sealed his fate. Perhaps Mary would have let him live and simply banished him or imprisoned him but after what he just admitted to her; it took every ounce of self-control in her to keep herself from gouging out his eyes. Her hand was itching to reach for the blade hidden in her skirts but she had to wait for the signal.

“They are my babies Louis.”

“I know and I hate to do this but it’s necessary. Don’t worry yourself Mary, I will give you many children to love. Over time Francis’s sons will be nothing but a memory.”

He finished his statement by running the back of his hand over her abdomen, alluding to the supposed child in her womb. Instead of saying something and risk blurting out the wrong words, Mary merely nodded her head and forced a smile.

Thankfully, their conversation ended when they heard the commotion outside. The army Conde had gathered was running as if they were on fire; whores were running around screaming that the soldiers gave them the plague. The camp was in panic and disarray; all of France knew of the devastation the recent plague caused in a matter of days. Mary went back into the tent and let Conde follow her after realizing that it was a hoax.  

She heard him enter but remained still, she pressed her dagger to her chest and clutched the hilt to brace herself for the attack. The second she felt his touch on her lower back, she spun around to jam the blade into his abdomen. He grunted in pain and his eyes widened in shock but Mary didn’t stop there; she twisted the blade with all her might. Conde pushed her away to wrench her dagger from his body.

Mary stepped back in fear when he took a step closer to her, the blood-stained weapon in his hand but she needn’t worry. Conde’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor, the blood loss leaving him light headed.

“Why would you do this?”

He choked through the agony.

“You were going to kill everyone I loved, I couldn’t let it happen.”

“You had this all planned? The whores and the imaginary plague.”

“Yes.”

Conde was breathing heavily now; he only had a few seconds left before the pain made him lose consciousness.

“And our baby? Was that a lie too?”

“It was, I was never pregnant. I did it to get your trust.”

“Well hats off to you then; you crushed the rebellion all by yourself.”

Conde collapsed to the floor before he could say anything else. Mary sent for a physician to bind his wounds; she wouldn’t let him die from blood loss before they had the chance to punish him for his crimes. The sound of horses and triumphant cheers alerted her to the arrival of the castle guards, she moved from her spot beside Conde’s prone form just in time for the tent flap to open.

Francis led his horse in the direction of the commander’s tent with sword in hand, he rushed off on foot to go inside. The sight that greeted him was nothing he expected. His wife stood above the bleeding body of his rival and cousin with a dagger in her hand. The moment she registered his presence, she dropped her weapon and leapt into his arms.

“My god Mary! I was so worried about you.”

“It was the only way I could think of. One of you was going to die and I wasn’t about to let it be you.”

Her husband held the back of her neck to pull her into a searing kiss.

“Wait a minute, is he dead?”

Mary giggled at him and shook her head.

“Not yet, I’ve sent for a physician; Conde won’t die before I have the pleasure of seeing his head roll.”

Francis groaned at her impatience to see justice served in the most brutal of ways, his pupils dilating till they were more black than blue.

“Have I ever mentioned how desirable I find your bloodlust?”

“Not now Francis! We have to return to the castle.”

“You go ahead. I have to do a sweep of the area to secure the perimeter with my men.”

Mary leaned up to kiss him goodbye.

“I’ll see you at home then.”

While Francis dealt with Catherine and her unyielding desire to rid the world of Bourbons, Mary ventured to the dungeons where Conde was chained up. The physician had alerted her merely minutes ago that he had regained consciousness and Mary felt it the perfect time to confront him. She marched up the stairs to the tower where he was held, a bundle of pages in her hand. When the guard opened the door to his prison, Mary stepped in to see the pathetic sight of her enemy on the floor wearing the same blood-stained shirt he had on this morning. His abdomen was bandaged so he wouldn’t bleed to death but his head which was hanging in defeat, snapped up to her when she entered.

“Have you come to gloat? I loved you! I waged war with my King for you and you stabbed me. You turned your back at me and still, you chose Francis over me.”

Unable to stand his accusations and self-righteous anger, Mary threw the pages into his lap. Conde reached for them with his chained hands, his face losing color the longer he read through the text.

“You are a liar, a manipulator, a traitor and a spy. You have no right to accuse me of betrayal.”

“How did you get this? How long have you known?”

Mary smirked at his bewildered expression in satisfaction.

“I found them in your chambers after I sent you away from court, I had come to apologize for my behavior the night before. You must’ve left in a hurry, seeing as you left your letters and journal in your unlocked desk.”

His brows furrowed in confusion.

“But… I don’t understand… all those letters you sent me. You made me believe you still loved me; I thought you wanted me back. You tricked me!”

Mary cocked her head and raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Tell me Louis, did you truly want my love or was it simply a plot to spy on my husband?”

“It’s true that I pursued you to get information but I loved you before then. I only wanted revenge after you repeatedly humiliated me, even then, I forgave you over time.”

She lost her temper at him when he tried to make excuses for his actions.

“Don’t lie to me! You were going to hand me and my nation to Elizabeth the moment we reached Scotland. You were going to get me killed and you say that you loved me?”

“I didn’t care about France or Scotland; I just wanted revenge on the Valois and I wanted you.”

“I am a Valois in every way that matters; my sons are Valois. You were going to put two nations at risk for your petty desires.”

Conde lowered his eyes at her scolding before glaring at her with dead eyes.

“You’ve won now, haven’t you? You beat me at my own game. I expect no mercy, I know the only thing left for me is death.”

Mary’s lip curled at the defeat in him.

“Francis and I haven’t decided yet. We await word from your allies; see if you’re worth more to France dead or alive.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

He sneered at her, which made her roll her eyes with a predatory grin on her face.

“Hardly; I’d like nothing more to see your head on a pike.”

“I just want to know one thing. If you didn’t learn of my betrayal, would you still wish me dead right now?”

Mary scoffed at his silly question, her eyes narrowing to slits.

“You were going to kill my children. You essentially told me to get over the fact that you would murder my sons! I carried them inside me for months and endured horrendous life-threatening labor to bring them into this world. You wanted to take them away from me.” 

Mary stepped closer to him and knelt down until they were eye to eye, she grabbed his chin, her fingernails digging into his skin.

“Even if our love was as genuine as you imagine it to be, I would’ve slit your throat before I let you lay a finger on my babies.”

She pushed him away with disgust before standing up, she brushed off the dust on her skirts. She was preparing to leave him to ponder over his fate when the door to the cell opened with a violent bang. The King of France barged in, red faced and furious. Seeing him in such a state of anger and grief brought her heart into her throat, what could possibly hurt her husband so much?

“What’s wrong?”

“He killed my son!”

Both Conde and Mary cried out at the same time.

“No!” “Louis what have you done?”

“Jean and Lola were kidnapped on the way back to the castle, they were going to trade their lives for his incase the coup failed. But the kidnapping was botched and Jean… he. My son… my infant son was killed.”

“I didn’t kill your son! Mary, you have to believe me.”

“Believe you? You have done nothing but lie to me, this isn’t the first time you tried to kill one of Francis’s children.”

While Mary was busy rebuking Conde, her husband unsheathed his sword.

“We captured one of your men and he confessed to everything. I should’ve killed you months ago.”

Francis didn’t listen to his wife protesting nor did he hear Conde beg for mercy. He swung his blade with all his might, his actions fueled by rage and devastation.

“Not like this, Francis! You can’t kill him like this.”

The sword hit the wooden beam above Conde’s head as he cowed, bracing himself for the killing blow that never came. He turned to his wife when he felt her hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“I have sent guards to find Lola and written out orders for your execution.”

Francis pointed his sword at Conde.

“You will lose your head before the day is done.”

Not willing to admit his crime, Conde defended himself again.

“I didn’t harm your son.”

“Speak again and I will carve out your heart!”

Francis was in their chambers when Mary returned from the royal nursery; she wanted to follow after him but she was interrupted by news of the princes’ arrival to the castle. After hearing the terrible news of Jean’s demise, she had to see for herself that her precious babies had returned unharmed. She only left for her husband when she was sure that James and Edward were fine.

Mary rushed over to his side as he wept on the divan and pulled him into her arms. She pressed kisses into his hair as he buried his head in against her chest, his fingers fisting the fabric of her bodice.

“Let it all out my darling, I am here for you.”

“I sent him away to protect him and now…”

Francis could barely finish his sentence before his voice cracked.

“Don’t do this to yourself.”

“All I can see is his tiny face. I keep failing to protect my children.”

She cupped his cheeks so he could look into her eyes and see the sincerity in them.

“Don’t ever think that! You didn’t fail our daughter and you didn’t fail Jean. They were both taken from us by the actions of evil men.”

He leaned in to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.

“They can’t find Lola anywhere; I’ve sent guards to look for them but…”

Before Francis could continue, the door to their chambers opened and Stephan Narcisse of all people barged in before their guards could stop him.

“I think I know where to find Lola.”

Mary and Francis both sat up straighter, now interested in what he had to say. The guard was dismissed and Narcisse closed the door.

“Where will you find Lola?”

“To say anything more would be to endanger her.”

“What are you implying Narcisse?”

Francis frowned.

“That it might be done by someone inside the castle. Someone who knew the exact route that Lola’s carriage has taken.”

“And you have an idea of who’s responsible.”

Mary recognized the plotting face Narcisse wore all too well.

“I do have my suspicions but I can’t say yet. Give me a day to find Lola and return her safely.”  

Francis nodded at him in gratitude.

“Take whatever you need.”

“And bring back Lola.”

Mary turned to her husband when they were alone once more. She caressed the hair falling on his cheeks and rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“Why don’t you get some rest? It’s been an eventful day, maybe getting some shut eye will make you feel better.”

“No, I am thinking of going to the Abbey. I need to spend time in prayer and isolation.”

Before Mary could reply, her husband had already gotten up, leaving her no choice but to leave him be. He knew that she was there for him, when he was ready to lean on her, she would be waiting. Till then, there was much to do at court after the siege and it would be best if she returned to her duty.

Mary spent most of the evening in the throne room listening to the grievances of the courtiers and reassuring them that they were still strong after the failed coup. That Lord Conde and all the nobles associated with his plot will be punished. Bash eventually came to her and pulled her aside.

“What is it?”

“It’s Conde Mary, someone helped him escape.”

Her teeth clenched at the situation.

“Elizabeth, it has to be her. I wonder how far she will go to protect him? I will have my mercenaries track him. He can’t have gone that far with his injury.”

Bash nodded his head but there was something in the drooping of his shoulders that irked her.

“Sebastian, is something wrong? You seem troubled.”

“It’s just the stress of the day Mary. Claude is convinced that Delphine is a witch and she was caught in a very suspicious situation.”

“And what about you and Kenna? Did you find time to talk? I have been meaning to ask you about it.”

His face pinched in displeasure at her name which immediately made Mary worried.

“What is it, Bash? Did she tell you about …”

“The baby? No, my wife didn’t tell me. Delphine sensed it and assumed I knew. Kenna convinced me to sleep with her so I’d believe the child is mine.”

Mary gasped and covered her mouth with her palm to muffle it. What a mess her friend had made of her marriage.

“I told her to tell you, what will you do now?”

“Mary I really don’t want to get into it now, thank you for trying to help. We are not like you and Francis, we’re not soulmates. We are two people forced together by my lunatic of a father, Kenna and I were never meant to last.”

The rest of her day went just as terribly, when Narcisse returned to the castle with news that Lola and Jean were alive and well, she had rejoiced but when she learned that her mother-in-law was responsible for the false kidnapping, she couldn’t contain her anger.

Mary marched into the Queen Mother’s chambers without warning and slammed the door open as she entered. Catherine looked up at the Queen with a bewildered expression but she didn’t get the chance to speak.

“You are a heartless woman! Abducting your son’s child, your grandchild just to force him to execute Conde?”

“Mary…”

“Don’t bother denying it, Narcisse had your men followed. Why would you go to such extreme measures when you knew that Conde’s fate was decided?”

Catherine ignored the girl screaming and walked past her as if she was a mere piece of furniture.

“Francis’s plan was faulty, Conde needed to die the moment he became your lover. Even he understood that.”

Mary couldn’t stand the blatant disrespect.

“Conde was going to die anyways! He threatened our entire line, did you really think Francis and I would let him live after that?”

Catherine’s act of nonchalance shattered when she heard those words, her mouth hung open in shock.

“What are you talking about? Francis himself told me that Conde was going to be released to his brother in front of everyone.”

“It was a lie; we needed to buy time for his supporters and Elizabeth’s envoys to leave France before any punishment was made. We were waiting for the right moment and your actions ruined everything.”

For the first time, a flicker of emotion flashed across Catherine’s features but her eyes steeled just as fast.

“You should’ve told me of your plans. If you hadn’t kept me out of the loop, I wouldn’t have had to take matters into my own hands.”

Mary scoffed at her unending arrogance.

“You feel no remorse, do you? You ruined a carefully thought-out strategy and caused your son so much pain, your son Catherine.”

“I did it for my son! Elizabeth needed to know that her agents will be found and murdered.”

“But you didn’t achieve anything Catherine! Francis and I were trying to punish Conde with little to no political repercussions but you forced Francis’s hand. Your manipulations pushed Elizabeth to break him free.”

Catherine glared at her daughter-in-law.

“How the hell was I supposed to know your motives? You realize we could all be dead? My children and yours. All because you couldn’t stand being alone in your role as queen, as wife and as a mother. That’s the job Mary; get used to it.”

“My mistakes led to what happened but I did everything in my power to fix it. You won’t even admit that you were in the wrong.”

“You may have fooled my son into trusting you but I see you for what you truly are.”

Catherine sneered at her and she had to take deep breaths to stop herself from reacting.

“I understand not wanting to give up control but Conde was a French citizen, his fate lied in the hands of his King. You cannot keep manipulating us or forcing us into making decisions that you think are best. You no longer command this country; France is ours now and Francis and I will rule as we see fit.”

The Queen Mother was stunned by the words, if she didn’t know any better, she would think that she was being scolded like a child.

“After all I did for you; while you were pregnant with the twins, after your attack. This is how you repay me?”

“You did nothing for me after my attack; you promised to help me through it but you were too busy poisoning Claude to spare me a second of your time. If you hadn’t abandoned me when I needed you, perhaps I wouldn’t have turned to Conde.”

Catherine stepped closer to her, reaching out to gently hold her hands.

“We can still make it up to each other, all you have to do is keep this whole mess from Francis.”

Mary wrenched herself free from the viper’s grip.

“Lie to my husband? Every time Francis and I keep secrets from each other we ruin our marriage. I will not lie to him or keep things from him, certainly not for you.”

She spat the words and ignored how Catherine turned desperate at the idea of being judged by her golden child.

“I sent a message to Francis before coming here; he knows that his son is alive and he knows of your betrayal. I don’t know what your punishment will be, but only God can save you from his wrath.”

With those parting words at Catherine de Medici, she spun on her heel and left the chambers.

Just after sundown, found Mary and Francis seated on their thrones waiting for the arrival of the Queen Mother in the vacant throne room. While they wanted to punish Catherine, no one needed to be present to spare her the humiliation. Mary leaned to the side to observe her husband; his tightened jaw and his fists clenched, one supporting his chin and the other resting on the arm of his throne.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We could simply reprimand her, confine her to her chambers for a few days.”

He shook his head at her suggestion.

“Absolutely not. My mother needs to learn that her behavior is unacceptable. Not only did she endanger Lola and Jean, her machinations cost us a very dangerous prisoner.”

Mary stretched her arm to reach for his hand.

“I know the list of her crimes Francis, but she is your mother and I worry what this would do to you.”

Francis faced her with his jaw set in determination.

“Conde has become a symbol of protestant rebellion, proving him as an English spy was the only way to turn his supporters against him. Catherine has cost us too much for me to forgive her, this was my chance to distance myself from the Edict and Catholic extremism and she took it from me.”

Mary didn’t get to say anything else as the woman in question was brought before them, accompanied by two of their guards. Francis waited for them to leave the room before turning his sharp glare to his mother.

“Francis this is ridiculous, you’re treating me like some criminal.”

Clearly, Catherine was under the delusion that she could talk her way out of this.

“You betrayed your King, went behind my back and endangered my son. How do you expect me to treat you?”

She smiled at her son to try and deescalate the situation.

“Your son was never harmed. Lola was never harmed.”

“You sent armed men to take them by force, they could have been injured easily. There is something I wondered about though, if you really wanted to provoke me; why chose Jean? Why not James or Edward? They were only accompanied by staff; it would’ve been easier.”

Francis had stood up by now, his every word punctuated by a step closer to tower over his mother. Catherine reacted to his question with a sardonic chuckle.

“And risk the heirs to France and Scotland? Don’t be foolish.”

Mary straitened in her seat with barely concealed rage and Francis had to physically distance himself from his mother to resist the urge to strike something.

“So, Jean was dispensable to you? I always thought your one redeeming quality was your love for your family, your children but I was wrong. You only care about the power we can offer you.”

Catherine reached out to touch her son but he jerked his arm away.

“That is not true. I love you Francis, you are my golden child.”

“I am a grown man mother! And I am sick to death of you micromanaging my life for your own gain. Tell me mother, if you had birthed peasants instead of royalty and someone offered you a kingdom in exchange for us, would you slit our throats for a chance at power?”

Francis bellowed loud enough for his voice to carry outside the room.

“I would never harm you or your children, I am your mother.”

“You are no longer a mother to me, certainly not a queen mother as I strip you of your title, lands and income.”

He returned to sit at his throne, the altercation draining the life out of him.

“You cannot do this.”

“Return to the decaying bosom of your true family, the Médicis; or flee to the New Lands. I don’t care but you will never be welcome at my court again.”

Catherine sputtered in indignation.

“Exile, you are exiling your mother?”

“Be thankful that I am not my father, he would’ve had your head for such a betrayal.”

When she grasped that she wouldn’t be able to persuade her son to leniency, Catherine turned her anger to Mary. She widened her eyes as her mother-in-law spat her vitriol at her.

“This is all your fault! If you had just kept your mouth shut like I told you to…”

Francis cut in before Mary could defend herself.

“Don’t blame my wife, all she did was tell the truth.”

“She was the one who truly betrayed you, she slept with Conde and yet still you forgive her.”

“The difference is that Mary feels remorse, she proved herself to me.”

Mary signaled the guards to escort Catherine outside; she didn’t want to give the woman any more opportunities to sow dissent between her and her husband. She knew that Francis hadn’t forgiven her yet but she didn’t want to force his hand. As soon as they were alone again, Francis stood up and crossed the small distance to kneel before her.

Mary reached for his gold locks and brushed her fingers through them to ease some of the tension in his body.

“What are you doing?”

He looked at her through his golden lashes.

“Weeks ago, you asked for my forgiveness and at the time I couldn’t even fathom the idea. I thought it would take months, years even.”

“Hey, I can wait, for as long as you need. I love you and I would do anything for you.”

Her palm had come to rest on his cheek and he tilted to press a soft kiss to her skin.

“You have proven that to me; going into enemy camp, sending your mercenaries to hunt down Conde. I don’t doubt your sincerity, not anymore.”

Hope bloomed in her heart and her lips curved up in a soft hint of a smile.

“I will never stop regretting my mistakes and I will strive to be better. A better wife, a better mother and a better queen.”

“You already are, my love. I know you would wait but that’s the thing, I don’t want to make you wait.”

“What are you saying?”

“I am saying that I might not be ready to forgive my mother, but I am ready to forgive you. I love you Mary and I want us to put all this hurt behind us, begin anew.”

He rose to his feet just in time for his wife to jump into his arms, a giddy grin lighting up her face. Francis caught her with carefree laughter and spun them around, very similar to the day he proposed. Mary wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers in his hair and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. They stayed in the embrace for a while, feeling and tasting the other with no regard for propriety. When they finally pulled away to catch their breath, Mary felt like she was floating.

“I will love for the rest of my life. And I will never let you go again.”

So lost in the blissful moment, she failed to see the shadow cross her husband’s face at her words. Francis knew he would have to tell her eventually but he didn’t want to spoil her happiness, not just yet. Maybe he’d tell her tomorrow; that the pain in his ear never relented at all, that he might not be alive to experience the rest of her life.

Chapter Text

“Honestly Francis, the best decision you made as King was to banish our mother.”

Queen Elisabeth de Valois of Spain lounged against the plush cushions of the solarium at her childhood home. The Valois siblings and their spouses were invited to a family luncheon to celebrate the first birthday of Prince Edward and Prince James of the houses of Stuart and Valois. While there was a large feast and festivity to be held in the evening, the parents wanted the family to come together before to have a peaceful afternoon.

As it was the special birthday of her godson and nephew, Leeza had convinced her husband to take her to France for the occasion. The King and Queen of Spain had gifted the boys with a huge trunk of toys along with Arabian ponies for the princes to learn riding on. Bash had made the boys wooden archery tools they were too young to use but neither Francis or Mary could comment; after Kenna ran off to have her baby in secret and Delphine’s escape, Bash wasn’t having the best few days.

While the adults enjoyed pleasant company along with summer fruits and sweet wines, the twins played with their brother Jean, their Aunt Margot and their uncles, Charles and Henry. Charles was less eager to play along with the little ones than he was a year ago but something in him had matured since Catherine sent him off to foster with his family in Florence. Even at the age of ten, Francis’s younger brother had developed an aura of mischief that was seen in teenagers.

Princess Claude dropped a grape into her mouth and hummed at the tangy flavor before nodding with her sister.

“She’s right, Mother has been nothing but ghastly. Can you believe she tried to kill me?”

Francis rolled his eyes at his sisters’ antics and exchanged an amused glance with his wife; who was trying and failing to stop their golden-haired baby from making a mess of his chocolate pastries. While James was playing peek-a-boo with five-year-old Margot, his younger sons were not interested in staying put. Jean had recently learned to crawl and he was unstoppable.

“You’re being insensitive, the little ones still hold a lot of affection for Mother.”

Leeza turned her attention to her little brother Henry, who had turned despondent the second they mentioned Catherine.

“Do not worry brother, Mother will be well and you will be reunited soon enough.”

Henry clutched the hand that was holding Edward’s and looked at Francis with doe eyes.

“When will you bring Mother home?”

Francis frowned at his brother, unsure of how to respond when his wife saved the day. She shifted closer to where the young ones were playing and held Henry’s hands.

“Your mother hurt your brother very much, as soon a she says she’s sorry, she will come home.”

There was a tension in the air, Catherine de Medici could pause a party even without being physically present. Bash and Philip, who were playing a game of chess that Bash was losing, stood up from their seats to join them.

“What I want to know is what are you doing with Conde? I apologize for not sending aid when you first asked for it.”

Philip turned to his brother-in-law sheepishly, his wife had rained heel-fire on him when she learned that her home was under siege because of the Bourbon heretic and his armies. Francis merely shrugged off the apology with a grin, his gaze landing on Mary, who was helping Margot redo her hair.

“I’ve found that my Queen is quite resourceful and an army herself; she has also sent her team of specialized men to hunt him down.”

“Whether it takes days, weeks or months; John and his team will catch him.”

Mary chimed in.

Not wanting to be left out of any conversation, Claude jumped in as well.

“Mary was fantastic; she singlehandedly put the usurper in his place. I wish I was there to see her stab him.”

The Queen blushed at the open praise from her family. She knew what her terrible mistakes had almost cost her nations and her family. To see them acknowledge her attempts to make up for her bad decisions brought warmth to her heart. She met her husband’s shining blue eyes across the solarium, his lips were curled up and his cheeks were flushed. Francis was blissfully happy at being surrounded by his family but she knew that his mother’s absence cut him deeply.

Leeza uncrossed her legs and got up from her seat to refill her wineglass.

“Speaking of the Queen; brother when are you giving me a niece? My nephews are so very adorable but a princesa would be fantastic.”

“You’re right Leeza; there’s nothing more special than a bond between a father and his daughter. It would be even more special with Francis because our brother actually has a heart.”

Claude remarked with a subtle jab to her own father; even if Henry did dote on his daughters once, at the end of the day there was nothing more important to him than himself. Francis was completely different and the way he treated his sisters and his wife, were a great indication to how he would treat his daughters.

Francis grinned at his sisters.

“I promise you we are trying our best.”

He ignored the uncomfortable look on Philip’s face and the disgusted groan that escaped Charles-that’s what he deserved for eavesdropping on the adults. It was his wife’s expression that made his smile drop, her gaze had dropped to her palms in her lap, her fingers playing with the fabric on her skirts and her lips had pressed into a grimace. Francis held her hand and raised it to his lips to press a kiss into her skin, he was rewarded with a weak smile in return and he promised himself that he’d talk to her when they were alone.

The King got up and held out his hand to his wife to help her stand as well.

“It’s been wonderful catching up with all of you but I’m afraid we must attend to our duties at court.”

“We will see you all tonight at the banquet.”

Mary continued her husband’s sentiment; bidding farewell to their guests, they walked out of the solarium.

The rest of the day was spent in preparations for the Birthday banquet that Mary had to organize with very little help. Catherine and Kenna were the real experts at party planning but with Catherine in Italy and Kenna in Sweden, it was all up to Mary to plan the best event for her sons’ birthday. She was aware that the little boys wouldn’t remember the celebrations at all but she would remember the smiles on their faces for the rest of her life. More than that, Francis and Mary had discussed the political benefits of making such a big deal of the princes’ first birthday.

In their time, it was a show of strength to have infants live through their first year. James and Edward surviving even the plague in their short life proved to the world of the stable future of France and Scotland. Her cousin Elizabeth was yet to marry or have an heir and this event would highlight Mary’s position as a Catholic Queen with healthy sons to inherit her throne. She had tried so hard to distance herself from her claim to England and made no active efforts to depose her cousin and still she was considered her enemy. Perhaps it was time for Mary to actively stand against her.

An hour before the banquet found Mary in her chambers wrestling with her children to dress them in their formal attire. As this was a party in their honor with many nobles and foreign dignitaries in attendance; Mary wanted the babies to look their best. The seamstresses had worked hard to design toddler sized versions of the outfits Francis wore to formal gatherings. Edward’s coat was a teal with gold embroidery while James would wear a light blue.

 It had taken Mary more than thirty minutes to get her firstborn into his clothes and she was now holding the Duke of Rothsay as he wiggled in her arms to fight off the offending garment.

“No Mama!”

He swatted at her hand when she tried to tuck his arms into the sleeves.

“Come on baby, you’ll look so nice. Don’t you and James to match Papa? Look at James, he’s wearing his proper clothes like a good boy.”

She pointed to the Dauphin and a groan escaped her lips when she saw him chewing on his sleeves, leaving a damp spot of drool on the fine fabric. Mary put Edward on the bed and gently pried James’s arm free from his mouth.

“Don’t eat your clothes Jamie.”

“Otway!”

Seeing that his mother was occupied with his brother, little Edward crawled off the bed. He used the drapes of his parents’ bed like a swing and slid down to the stone floor. Mary had just finished drying Jamie’s clothing when she saw that Edward was no longer where she left him. The little blonde hellion was making his way to the door on shaky steps, his tiny hands holding onto pieces of furniture for support. Jamie was in his mother’s arms and was kicking at her to be set free, she needed to find a way to catch Edward without letting go of James and Mary cursed her elaborate gown for limiting her movement.

Thankfully, Francis chose that exact moment to return to their chambers. He opened the doors and entered, looking absolutely dashing in his navy ensemble and smiled at his wife.

“Is everything up to the mark?”

Francis had left to inspect the ballroom for the festivities and check on security for the guests.

“Everything’s marvelous, you’ve done a smashing job my, love. The guests have started to arrive and we must be going down soon.”

Mary was about to remark at his son’s antics when Edward finally reached his father, the little boy tugged on his Papa’s trousers with a charming smile, his tunic was gathered around his neck and raised his arms when he felt the attention on him.

“Eddie! Why aren’t you dressed yet little man?”

The boy smacked his father’s face with a giggle.

“Papa No!”

Francis turned to Mary with an amused resignation.

“How has this become his new favorite word?”

“I have a feeling that Claude was somehow involved.”

It was true; his sister never missed an opportunity to turn his sons against him. Francis walked over to the bed and set his son down with a stern warning.

“Behave now; wear your special clothes and I promise to give you loads of chocolate all night.”

“Don’t bribe him!”

Mary chided, but Eddie’s eyes widened in wonder at the familiar word and he jumped up and down in glee, clapping his hands. Francis took advantage of his good mood and swiftly changed him into his formal outfit. He took hold of both the boys to give Mary the chance to fix her hair and dress, his wife was ravishing in her intricate blue gown, the color contrasting beautifully with her pale skin.

When they arrived into the ballroom, James was in his father’s arms while Edward was held by his mother. The guests curtsied when the King and Queen entered with the Princes. The room was decorated with banners embroidered with the fleur de lis, satin draperies in different shades of blue were hung around the room with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The banquet table held many delicacies native to France and foreign ones but the star of the spread was the split cake in the center of the room; three strawberry tiers for James and three chocolate tiers for Edward.

After the ceremony of cutting the cake was completed, the children wasted no time before digging into the delicious confection. The little ones were handed off to the nannies in attendance to prevent them from wreaking havoc on the guests. The adults took to dancing to the orchestra being played. Mary and Francis danced three sets before making their rounds, socializing and making alliances for their future.

Sometime later, Mary had found a corner to rest her feet after the long evening, all the excitement left her feeling drained. Elisabeth found her soon enough and joined her, she offered her sister-in-law a glass of champagne as she sipped from her own glass.

“Thank you for having us. Spain is fantastic but France is home, everything is much more carefree here and even Philip relaxes whenever we visit.”

“Philip is not King here; he can unburden himself away from his country.”

Leeza gave her a rueful smile.

“I suppose you understand that better than I do; it must be draining to be Queen of two nations.”

“I have a partner who helps me shoulder the burdens of ruling. Truly, I have no idea where I’d be if not for Francis. I have learned more of ruling from him than my tutors.”

Mary’s gaze found her husband from across the room and he caught her eye with a gleam, his eyes whispering heated promises that brought a flush to her cheeks. Leeza caught her line of sight and smirked at their behavior.

“The two of you are positively indecent! Is it normal for the King and Queen to be so scandalous in public.”

“My husband and I making eyes at each other is not nearly as scandalous as woman throwing themselves at him in my presence.”

At that exact moment, Lola walked over to Francis with Jean in her arms. The little boy waved his arms at his father and giggled when Francis kissed the top of his golden hair.

“I will never comprehend why you would allow such a shameful display.”

Leeza scoffed, her blood boiled every time she laid eyes on the little traitor and her bastard.

“Because I have no doubts about Francis’s devotion towards me; Lola was a mistake and I am proud of him for accepting his responsibility.”

“But to parade his bastard at court? And his mother? Its humiliating Mary.”

“It’s not like that; Francis loves all his sons equally and sometimes he even favors James.”

Leeza simply shook her head while glaring daggers at Lola.

“Mothers to Kings’ bastards are never trustworthy, they will always use nefarious tactics to secure their child’s position.”

Mary mentally smacked herself for not recognizing the true meaning of Leeza’s anger, of course she would see the parallels and be enraged.

“I am not Catherine Leeza; Lola isn’t Diane and Francis is sure as hell not his father. We have accepted Jean into our family, I know the kind of man my husband is, if I hadn’t agreed he would’ve sneaked away to be with him anyways. Then I would surely lose him; I made the best decision for my marriage.”

Leeza finally relented and the two Queens spent much of the evening chatting and drinking.

By the time the guests were about to leave, Mary searched for her husband so they may see everyone off but he was nowhere to be found. The Queen herself was dead on her feet so she made their excuses and tasked Leeza and Philip with the farewells. The babies had already been sent off to bed an hour ago with their nannies so the parents could retire as well.

She finally found Francis in his study; he was seated at the stuffed chair before the roaring hearth with a glass of scotch in his hand. She walked over to his side, removing her heels to free her swollen feet and sat on the armrest of his chair, his blue eyes following her every move. She combed her fingers through his hair and smiled when she heard him groan in pleasure.

“You left the party early, is everything alright?”

“I had a headache and the noise wasn’t helping.”

She frowned at his words.

“You’ve been having those far too often for it to be normal. Why won’t you see a physician?”

“It’s just the stress following the siege, I’ll be fine.”

He hated lying to her but if a mere headache made her worry so much how would she react to his impending death? He didn’t know how to tell her that it was more than his head that hurt, that his ear never stopped aching, that sometimes he would feel his body stiffening and he had to start every meal with a mixture of Nostradamus’s herbs to hide his condition.

“I hope you’re right, after the scare we had, I can’t even think of you being ill.”

Francis held her hand up to his lips to kiss her skin, an attempt to comfort her. His mind quickly got distracted by the soothing motions of her fingers in his hair, it was so soothing that he could feel himself drifting off.

“Francis?”

“Hmm.”

Mary’s hand stilled and he snapped his eyes open to look at the apprehension in her features.

“What is it? What’s bothering you? Is it what Leeza said today? I saw the way you reacted to the mention of a baby.”

 She took a deep breath her eyes fluttering shut.

“In a way yes, I have been ignoring the symptoms for weeks but I haven’t bled yet and that can only mean one thing.”

“Mary are you with child?”

She met his eyes with apprehension.

“I think so yes. I will have my chamber pot tested to be sure.”

The hint of a smile growing on Francis’s lips died when felt tears slip past her cheeks and onto his hand. Mary sniffed and roughly wiped her face with the back of her hand.

“You don’t seem happy with the news. Mary… I hate to ask this but is it possible that you worry that the child… isn’t mine?”

He spoke slowly and softly, making sure that she felt no judgement in his tone. He had forgiven her for her infidelity and he didn’t want her to doubt that.

Mary’s head snapped in alarm and her eyes widened as she shook her head as swiftly as possible.

“No! Don’t ever think that! Conde and I… it was one time and it was a terrible mistake. I had Kenna send for a tea afterwards.”

“A tea…”

“It’s something working girls use to prevent…um… unintended consequences of their profession.”

Understanding dawned on his face and his cheeks turned pink at the allusion.

“Then if it’s not the paternity, what troubles you?”

Francis was looking at her with such love and concern that she felt her throat close up with emotion. She choked back a sob, blinking rapidly to reign in her tears so she could speak.

“The last time I was pregnant… I…”

Francis pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her, he crushed her to his chest as she whimpered.

“I’m terrified Francis, I don’t know if I’ll survive losing another child.”

She murmured into the skin of his neck. One of his hands was stroking her dark hair and it stilled at her words, he cupped her face so he could look into her bloodshot eyes.

“You did not lose our daughter Mary. She was murdered, taken from us by monsters who will rot in hell for eternity. You cannot let their actions influence you or they win.”

“Do you truly don’t blame me?”

“My God Mary… No, never.”

They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a while and eventually Mary stopped heaving out sobs.

“If we have a boy, I want to name him after you.”

“Isn’t it arrogant for a man to name his son after him?”

“Henry was named after his father, it’s a nice tradition for third sons.”

Francis chuckled at her reasoning before fondly kissing her forehead.

“Mother named Henry after our father to gain his favor. You need to do no such thing. I am already quite besotted with you.”

His wife cocked an eyebrow, her lips curved into a smirk.

“Besotted hmm; is that so?”

“It is… in fact we should retire to our bedchambers now.”

Francis’s voice deepened, his pupils blowing wide before her eyes.

“And what exactly would we do in our bedchambers, my king?”

Mary breathed. Her husband traced the skin above her bodice with his nails, his finger tucking down the straps of her gown. His lips replaced his fingers on her shoulder.

“I would start by carefully pealing off this offending garment.”

He whispered against the skin of the neck and her breath hitched.

“Then I would splay you before me and have the most decadent feast.”

“God yes! And then what?”

She had no idea what had possessed her husband but she couldn’t deny that his boldness was very invigorating.

“Then we’d make love until neither of us can walk straight.”

“Don’t you have a stag to catch at dawn? I’m sure the men will be very curious if their King was limping.”

Francis grinned at the picture she painted.

“I’d tell them I spent the night riding.”

Neither of them could hold in their mirth anymore and broke out into a fit of giggles and laughter. Mary jumped off her husband’s lap with a mischievous smile, fixed her dress and slipped on her shoes. Francis pouted in disappointed at the loss of contact.

“Where are you going?”

“To bed; my husband has made some very big promises that I intend him to keep.”

Mary picked up her skirts before breaking into a sprint, her shoes making echoes of clicks in the hallways as she made her way to their chambers; her husband hot at her heels.

The next morning found the King of France and the King of Spain in the Blood Woods along with many noble men that were at court for the celebrations. Sebastian’s presence was a bit of contentious but no one would dare say anything in the King’s presence. They spent hours in the forests chasing the stag that their scouts had spotted. Francis remembered the last hunt he’d gone to with his father. That was the day he'd vowed to be a better parent than either of his had been. His father was too busy chasing his desires to be present for his true born children and his mother was so attentive that it was suffocating. He hoped that his children would remember him fondly after he was gone.

His mortality was a recurring topic of thought in Francis’s mind. He was already making plans to secure his family’s rule after his death but the knowledge of Mary’s pregnancy made him want to plan to live instead. He desired nothing more than to see his child come into the world, to hold his wife’s hand and be by her side as she gave birth. He couldn’t do any of that if he died before that.

When they found the stag in an open clearing. Francis wasted no time in taking his shot, he released his arrow with precision and the hunting party cheered when his aim landed true. While it would have been more gracious to allow Philip to take down the stag, Francis wasn’t about to waste any opportunity to shut down the rumors. Half of Europe thought he was a weak and stunted child; with so many foreign delegates at the hunt it would be great if they could see his strength. No one needed to know that the King of France was on the brink of death.

The men made camp after the stag was felled. Francis left their companions to enjoy the bottles of Scottish Whiskey and invited Philip on a trek into the woods. They hiked for a mile, talking about politics and economy, Spain’s exploits in the New World were also brought up. It was only when Francis was sure that they wouldn’t be overheard that he sat down on a large boulder. He opened a bottle of scotch and took a sip, passing the drink to his brother-in-law who sat beside him.

“Now will you tell me what’s really the matter?”

 Francis chuckled at his bluntness; the Spanish really did have no filter.

“How did you guess?”

“There are two reasons for bringing a man into the middle of the woods; either you have a secret or you want to kill me. If it’s the latter, you won’t get away with it.”

There was humor in his dark eyes that brought Francis a sense of ease.

“I need your help actually. As I’m sure Leeza told you, I fell ill weeks ago. I had pain in my ear and a high fever. I was unconscious for a day.”

Philip patted his shoulder.

“Leeza was beside herself when she got Catherine’s coded message. But you’re healthy now.”

The blonde man shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. I have consulted with every discrete physician in France. The consensus is that I don’t have much time. My survival would be a miracle at this point.”

Philip took a large swing of scotch.

“So; the King of France is dying. Is there no cure?”

Francis sighed in defeat.

“That’s part of why I wanted to speak with you. Nostradamus found a Spanish Doctor who is celebrated for his expertise in treating rare infectious diseases. His name is André Miguel.”

Spain was quickly making strides in the field of medicine and he wasn’t arrogant enough to pretend otherwise, if Philip could help him live then Francis would gladly owe him his life.

“I will send him to France the moment we return. Have you told Mary?”

“She can’t know… at least not yet. The last thing she needs in her condition is added stress.”

Philip’s eyebrows shot up; he wasn’t aware that the Queen was expecting.

“I see. As the Queen, she needs to know of your welfare but I can understand why you’d want to spare her. You cannot hide your illness forever Francis.”

“I’ll tell her after I am sure it’s untreatable. Till then, it’s best to keep her in the dark. It also goes without saying; don’t mention it to my sister.”

“I won’t say anything. I will pray for your health brother.”

Philip rose from his perch on the boulder beside Francis.

“We should return before they send a search party.”

A week later when the King and Queen of Spain departed for their home, they were sent off with a spectacular farewell. When King Francis embraced his sister for a moment too long, the court brushed it off as a political move to strengthen relations with the might of Spain. In truth, Francis wasn’t sure if he’d live to see his sister ever again. His eyes met those of his wife’s over Leeza’s shoulder; less than a week since they’d learned of her pregnancy and already the Queen was glowing, he smiled warmly at her approval with his action.

It was that day that Francis vowed to fight for his life; he was the King, he wouldn’t abandon his people but more than that he had a family that loved him and needed him. He wouldn’t put his loved ones through the pain and grief of losing him, he would go through any treatment necessary to survive. He had endured worse fates; he wasn’t about to let an ear infection bring him down.

Chapter Text

Eight Months Later

Spring was upon them after a grueling winter. The gardens of Chateau de Fontainebleau were blanketed in lush grass with beds of fragrant blooms that always found their way into the Queen’s hair. However, nothing about the scenic beauty could compete with the delightful sounds of the royal twins. Such was the case on that morning; the gardens echoed with the twinkling laughter of three little boys and the pitter patter of their tiny feet. At a year and eight months; Prince James and Prince Edward never sat still, when they were joined by their slightly younger brother the trio was untamable.

The three boys were running around the gardens on their tiny legs and were being chased by their father. King Francis II, the King of France and Scotland was currently chasing after his toddlers pretending to be the tickle monster. If only the serious old men at the Privy Council could see him now. It was the least appropriate activity for a King and yet he had never been happier than when he was playing these games with his boys.

Francis had spent most of his morning with Doctor Miguel in his office. He owed the brilliant man the past eight months of his life. His strange set of herbs and teas actually helped clear the haze in his head, most days the doctor would have to perform some surgery to drain the fluid that collected in his head and ears. It was a relief that his hair was long enough to cover the incision scars or his wife would be very suspicious. Mary was nearly at the end of her pregnancy and she was unbelievable large; not that he was foolish enough to say that to her face. The Queen spent most of her time on walks or in bed, which gave him plenty of chances to sneak away to see his doctor.

“When I catch you little boys you will face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

Francis growled comically, his voice deepened and eyes twinkling with mirth as he pounced on Jean to catch him. Edward rolled away to escape and James jumped on his father’s back to free his little brother.

“Papa! Le’goo.”

“Never!”

Francis swung his arm to hold James under the arm that wasn’t clutching Jean. Little Edward let out a battle cry and charged at his father. He hugged his Papa’s leg like a koala and bit into it with as much strength as his little jaw could muster.

“Eddie, stop that! You will hurt yourself little man.”

“No, no, no!”

He let go of the wiggling boys in his arms and knelt down so he could talk to his little ones.

“How about we put a pause to our game and meet Mama for breakfast? She’ll be waiting for us.”

The three boys perked up at the mention of food and obediently stood straight. Their father chuckled to himself as they made their way to the lakeside where Mary was waiting, every person who they passed shared equal looks of amusement at the way the three brothers were marching behind their father, very similar to the little ducklings in the lake.

Queen Mary was lounging against a tree reading a heavy tome that rested on her very prominent bulge; she was surrounded by silken cushions and a delicious spread of food. When she saw her family approach, she closed her book and sat up so she could brace herself for the tiny body of energy that collided with her. Jamie had broken into a sprint when he saw his mother, running as fast as his little legs could take him and enthusiastically hugged her belly.

Francis smiled in contentment at his view; his radiant wife was angelic in her cream silk gown, her hair completely unbound and framing her face like a raven halo and her cheeks were flushed as she giggled along with their children. James and Jean talked animatedly with her in their limited vocabulary. He greeted her with a quick kiss on her ruby lips and moved to sit beside her, Edward climbing into his lap the second he was seated.

“Mama?”

James called out in his sweet voice, his hand on her swollen belly and his forehead crinkled.

“Yes, my darling?”

“That my bruzzer?”

While no one could predict what the gender of their unborn child would be; James was somehow convinced that he was having a little brother and was beyond ecstatic for his arrival. Jean too was excited at the prospect of a younger sibling, as excited as a baby could be seeing as they didn’t understand much. It was Edward’s reaction that bothered the parents, he was very quiet and clingy after learning of the new baby.

Francis patted his eldest son’s hand, his own large one rubbing the side of his wife’s belly. His efforts were rewarded with a powerful kick and he shared a grin with Mary at the way Jean and Jamie’s eyes widened at the movement. Edward on the other hand had a frown on his face, his blue eyes narrowed at his unborn sibling.

“What’s wrong little man?”

Francis asked his son.

“Brother owie?”

The parents exchanged a concerned glance before turning to their second born. Mary reached for the boy to tuck his blonde locks behind his ears; much to her dismay the longer his hair became the more he lost the curls that he’d inherited from his father.

“Why would your brother get an owie Eddie?”

The little blonde boy shook his head.

“Not brother. Mama; mama owie.”

Oh! That explained so much. Edward probably thought that the baby was hurting her and that’s why he was reluctant to bond with her bump when James had taken to it so well. Francis’s eyes glistened with pride and Mary peppered every inch of her son’s face with kisses, making the boy giggle.

“You sweet boy. You were worried about Mama, but there is no need, your brother is too small to bother me. Baby is a good boy, just like all of you.”

Edward pointed to her belly with a timid smile.

“Baby good?”

He turned to his Papa for confirmation and his little body relaxed when Papa agreed with his Mama. After the toddlers were settled, Francis and Mary opened up the basket of food to break their fast. The boys thankfully sat with little fuss and ate small bites that their parents popped into their mouths. In between their meal, Francis chatted with his wife.

“How have you been feeling today? I’m sorry for not being there when you woke up, I had an early meeting.”

“I feel like I need this baby out of me sooner rather than later. And these early meetings, will I ever find out who it is you’re meeting with?”

Mary was very curious about with whom he spent his mornings with when he could cuddle under the covers with her.

“Are you having an affair? Now that I am too large to be of any use, the entire court expects you to find a better option.”

Francis scoffed at the mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Don’t even joke about that, I have had the most awkward conversations with so many noblemen. How a man can offer up his daughter like that, I will never understand.”

Mary snickered at the way he shuddered in revulsion, popping a fresh strawberry into her mouth, she turned to him with a serious concern.

“Speaking of shameless noblemen, the Privy Council has called a meeting this afternoon to discuss the whereabouts of the escaped protestant lords following the coup.”

Francis groaned at the talk of politics and hid his face in Jamie’s hair, the boy having curled up in his arms after finishing his meal.

“Francis! I know you would rather spend the rest of your life here but we are King and Queen; we have important matters to attend to.”

He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers, his hands reaching for her belly to rub soothing circles on her.

“Our family is important…”

He kissed his wife, smiling into her mouth as she gripped his shoulder to pull him closer.

“You are important.”

“I am glad to hear that but so are our people.”

It seemed that Francis’s wish for a peaceful day would remain just that; a wish. Right after their meeting with the Privy Council, the two of them returned to the lakeside once more, this time sans children to enjoy some time alone. They spent some time on the lake in the new boat Francis made and was constantly obsessive over, afterwards they came ashore to find a lovely spread of meats and cheeses waiting for them. Their romantic lunch was interrupted by none other than Stephane Narcisse; the Lord had become an invaluable member of Francis’s council and his expertise made it easier to put his transgressions behind him.

Lord Narcisse came to them with the news of Queen Elizabeth’s increasing aggressions in Scotland; months had passed since the day that Francis first sent French troops to his wife’s birth country and since then those soldiers had yet to return. Every time the situation settled and Mary suggested they withdraw troops; England would launch another attack. The effort was draining at France and Scotland’s resources and now they would need to add even more capital to an already costly war.

They say desperation can make one go to insane lengths and that is precisely what drove Mary to invite pirates to French Court. The very next morning, their guests arrived with all the pomp and circumstance of their lifestyle. Resorting to piracy for gold was truly a new low for them but Bash tried to make them feel better by reminding them that Francis was the last King to use such unsavory means to pay for war. While Mary and Bash ironed out the details of the operation with Martine, Francis slipped away to Doctor Miguel for his next batch of medicine.

Andre Miguel was a middle-aged man with grey hair and a pleasant temperament. He took his position as the King’s doctor very seriously. When Francis entered his chambers, the doctor was already waiting with his tools. He gave the king a routine checkup, asking if his symptoms had changed much and pressing on different parts of his head to record his responses.

“I am increasing your dosage of herbs to curb your swelling; I can sense the fluid gathering behind your temples again. Is the pain in your ear the same or has it increased?”

“It has been getting worse, the nights have become difficult to pass without a sleep tonic.”

“I see, and your fever? How often does your body warm up?”

Miguel continued his physical examination while waiting for a response but it never came. Instead, the king’s body went rigid before he felt tremors beneath his fingers. He stepped around to face his patient but Francis seemed to be staring into nothing, his pupils locked onto thin air. Miguel caught the king’s body the second it went limp, any more delay and he would’ve crashed to the floor and split his head open.

The doctor waited patiently for the tremors to pass and prayed to God that he was wrong about what had occurred. Seconds turned into minutes and finally Francis blinked away the haze he had fallen in. Miguel helped him sit up and swallow small sips of cold water.

“Do you remember where we are?”

“Umm, I came to see you for my herbs and then, I can’t recall anything else. What happened to me?”

“Your Grace, you had something we call a falling sickness. You lost awareness for two minutes.”

Francis rubbed a hand over his face, he could already feel the throbbing of another headache.

“What does that mean exactly?”

“It means that your infection is eating away parts of your brain.”

He nodded at the doctor’s words as if he could comprehend the gravity of the situation.

“So how do we fix it? What will you do to cure this new symptom?”

Miguel placed a hand on the young king’s shoulder with sympathetic eyes.

“Your majesty; Francis, there is no curing a damaged brain. Your ailment has progressed well past what I can fix, if there is a treatment to come it wouldn’t be in years, years I fear you no longer have.”

Francis’s eyes burned and tears silently slipped down his cheeks.

“What are our next steps then?”

“I can stay here and make you comfortable in your last days but I cannot promise any miracles. I believe it is time you tell the Queen; you must begin making arrangements.”

The doctor’s words rang in his ears on the way back to his bedchambers. The servants had informed him that his wife had retired to rest and he was hoping to catch her while he still had the will to tell her the truth. Instead of resting as she should’ve been doing, Mary was pacing the length of the room when he entered. He took a seat behind his desk and waited for her to finish reading whatever message that was in her hands.

“What is that?”

Mary handed him the page with little delay.

“It’s a letter from Elizabeth.”

He swiftly skimmed through the contents; anxiety gripping his heart like a vice at every word he read.

“She wants to marry Charles? Why?”

He croaked; Charles and Henry had been staying with them in the castle for months now, they were under his protection and as head of the family any marriage would be with his approval.

“It’s written in her terms; if we let her marry Charles she will seize her aggressions in Scotland. It’s an olive branch that could not be timelier. This pointless war will suck our countries dry and she has given us a chance at peace.”

Mary went on about what a boon this opportunity was while Francis was watching his entire world slip beyond his control. She was so good and hopeful, his wife, she had no idea what darkness her future held for her. To see her, bright with maternal glow wearing her favorite color, white always did make her look enchanting; he couldn’t help but wish he didn’t have to shatter her hopes and dreams.

“Mary a marriage with Charles will create an alliance, how difficult would it be then, for France to overrule any matter regarding Scotland in her favor?”

She looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

“Very difficult actually. Charles is third, probably fourth in line to the throne; he has no true influence at court. His marriage to Elizabeth will be purely symbolic. Besides, her real war is with me and she has promised a cease fire if we agree to this union. By making it even in one area…”

“But it won’t be even…”

Francis’s protest fell on deaf ears.

“Or course it won’t be even. She will have a prince and I will have a king.”

That was it, he couldn’t skirt around the subject any longer. He stood up and clenched his fists before crying out.

“But that’s just it, Mary. You won’t have the King of France!”

Mary froze in her place at his outburst and stared into his hardened eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean? We have an alliance; do you plan on abandoning my country? Is it because of what I did? You said we would put our mistakes past us. You promised to give me a second chance.”

She ignored the pain in her back that she’d been feeling all day, when the sting of her heart breaking overwhelmed her. She couldn’t understand why he would even think of such a scenario where he wasn’t by her side.

“This is not about our mistakes.”

“Then why would you say something so terrible?”

She shouted at him.

“When I became ill with the pain in my ear and the fever, they told me that if the pain returned; I would not survive long. The truth is that the pain never eased and lately it has become unbearable.”

Mary clutched at her swollen abdomen, protecting herself and the child within from such devastating news. It was not possible; she had already suffered so much; she couldn’t lose him too. Why was God punishing her in such a way?

“What are you saying?”

She could feel her voice crack with despair.

“Mary…”

“It’s alright, we’ll find better physicians to treat you, experts in their field. I won’t lose you. This is not a discussion I want to have.”

Francis gathered his shaking wife into his arms and she heaved a sob against his shoulder.

“There’s no point, you need to listen to me. Mary, please hear me…”

“Whatever you are about to say… please Francis… don’t do this to me.”

 “I am dying.”

“No! Absolutely not, I won’t allow it.”

“And when I’m gone… Jamie is but a child he won’t be able to stop Elizabeth from usurping his throne, I cannot let that happen to you. I will not leave you unprotected.”

She clutched her husband tighter, terrified that he would leave her the second she eased her grip.

“It’s not fair. I just got you back, we haven’t had enough time. I need more time... Oh God, this can’t be happening.”

Francis wiped the tears from her cheeks and tucked her hair back to hold her face.

“It will never be enough time my love, I am so sorry that we don’t have forever. I tried to fight it for so long but it was just not meant to be.”

Mary’s mouth opened to release a guttural scream that broke his heart into a million pieces, her chest heaving with sobs and nothing he said snapped her out of her grief. She dropped to her knees, gripping her belly with white knuckles. It was only when Francis felt his trousers get wet, did he realize that there was more to her pain than just the news of his impending demise. His wife was breathing heavily and holding onto him tightly.

“Call the midwives, the baby’s coming.”

Now!

It was a fairly short and painless birth; that is what the midwives remarked when the babe finally came into the world. For Francis, those five hours were the most harrowing and longest hours of his life. For the rest of his short existence, he would never forget the agonizing screams of his wife nor would he forget the force with which she gripped his hands. Mary desperately clung to her husband during the entirety of her labors and even barked profanities at whosoever attempted to separate them. If he wasn’t their sovereign, the midwives might have thrown him out of the chambers.

It was hours past midnight when the baby was cleaned and returned to the parents after a thorough checkup. The baby’s first feeding was a sight to behold and Francis could do nothing except stare in awe, humbled by the strength of his queen and the loving care with which she nurtured their newborn. He sat beside them, his arms around Mary as she leaned against his chest while their baby suckled, his fingers caressing the small head of tiny golden curls.

After Mary and the baby gave into the exhaustion of the day, Francis held his sleeping child to his chest and whispered empty promises that he knew in his heart he wouldn’t live long enough to keep. Sometime later; he left his chambers and strolled around the empty castle while everyone else slept peacefully. He ended up at a very familiar door without even realizing, his mind felt like he was underwater, everything was distant and dull. He knocked at the door and entered with no thought.

Bash woke up the second he heard the creaking of the door opening and reached for the knife under his pillow. When he saw the blonde curls of his younger brother in the moonlight, he jumped out from under the covers to walk over to him.

“Francis! What are you doing here?”

“I have another son; William Francis. He’s tiny and looks just like me, at least that’s what the midwife said.”

Bash smiled at the arrival of another nephew but something about his brother’s behavior made him concerned.

“I see Mary finally convinced you to name him Francis. You won’t be the first king to share a name with his son.”

Francis met his brother’s eyes and the haunted expression on his face made all his jokes die.

“She told me she couldn’t let my name die, that it was a way to keep me alive. I can’t deny her anything now.”

“Brother; what on earth are you rambling about?”

Bash was startled when instead of answering, Francis embraced him with a force that knocked the breath out of him. His little brother was shaking in his arms and he couldn’t help but hold him tight, just like when they were children.

“I’m dying Sebastian.”

Bash hung his head at the confession, he had hoped that killing Clarissa would be enough to keep his brother safe but all his effort was for nothing. He stepped back to retrieve a bottle of hard whiskey from his bedside drawer and joined his brother on the floor. They leaned against the foot of his bed and shared sips of alcohol directly from the bottle.

“What will happen now? How much time do you have left?”

“I’m not sure exactly; Doctor Miguel couldn’t give me an exact date. Naturally James will be King.”

“He will need a regent.”

“Mary will be Queen Regent just as her mother is in Scotland.”

Bash thought about it and turned to his brother to share his opinion.

“Mary will have a difficult time as regent. Not only is she a foreign queen but she will be in no position to cement her rule after your death.”

“I know what she will face, which is why I need your help.”

“You could ask me anything now and I will do it Francis.”

His younger brother chuckled to himself.

“I don’t know how much time I have left but I need you to help me tie up these loose ends, help me secure Mary’s votes for regency. Advocate for her role with the nobles with me and remove any threat to my son’s future before I die.”

Bash answered the request with a stiff smile.

“I promise to protect your family; now and always.”

Francis shuddered and released a sigh, his shoulders sagging in relief at the reassurance that his wife and sons would be in safe hands with his brother.

“I owe you a great debt, brother.”

“Shut up Francis! You owe me nothing, we are family.”

There conversation turned to lighter topics after that and eventually the bottle they were sharing had not a single drop left. Sometime later, drunk and tired, the two brothers drifted off on the floor in the middle of their slurred conversation.

When Francis woke up it was to the sun shining into his eyes through the window in his brother’s room. Sometime after he fell asleep, Bash had woken to shift his brother to his bed, he was already ill and waking up with a stiff neck would only make things worse. He crept out of his brother’s room and made his way to see his wife but when he reached the royal chambers, it was empty. He changed out of last night’s clothes and put on a loose tunic and pants to be more comfortable. He went to the nursery; Mary must’ve gone to see the babies but she wasn’t there either. It was the Lola who told him that his wife had gone to the Chapel after checking on the children.

Mary was kneeling in prayer when she heard her husband’s footsteps, she felt the rustling beside her as he sat down on the stone floor of the chapel. She wiped away her tears with the hands that clutched her rosary beads and tried to put a brave face for him.

“You shouldn’t be here my love. You just gave birth; you should be resting in bed.”

Francis cupped her damp cheek just to touch her skin.

“I couldn’t waste anymore time. I have been here, praying for your recovering and for the strength to carry on if I lose you.”

“You will be just fine Mary; I have every faith in you.”

“I don’t.”

Francis stared at the patterns on the floor before continuing.

“I told Bash about my illness; we spent the night making plans for the future. I will do everything in my power to secure our son’s rule and your regency before my death.”

“My regency…”

“Yes. There is no one I trust to protect my legacy more than you. I will put the pieces in place so that France and Scotland are both secure.”

Mary closed her eyes to stop the tears from flowing but it was no use.

“Please stop… I… can’t even think about politics right now.”

Her husband leaned in to kiss away her tears.

“And you don’t have to, I have. I will protect you and our nations.”

She scooted forward to place her hand over his still beating heart.

“Stop being so strong, so perfect. Worrying about us… about our countries when you… when we. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Her voice betrayed her, the lump in her throat making it impossible to speak. Francis couldn’t stand seeing her in such sorrow.

“I will never stop being sorry for not being stronger than my disease. For not telling you; at first things were so complicated between us and I didn’t want you to return to me out of pity.”

“Francis, I love you.”

“I truly believed that Doctor Miguel could cure me and I didn’t want to worry you needlessly. I’m glad you didn’t know; these last few months have been so blissful. I wanted to enjoy every moment of our happiness. To bring you nothing but joy.”

“And you did; you have made me and our children so happy.”

“Then it was worth it. Every moment we had together was everything to me, every second mattered, it always did but I didn’t see it before.”

Mary leaned into his chest to lull herself to the sound of his heartbeat.

“Is that why you had your brothers return to court? So, you could spend as much time with them as possible?”

“I wanted to spend my last moments surrounded by my family.”

There was a forlorn ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You miss her, don’t you? Your mother?”

“I know that she made terrible decisions but she is my mother and I love her.”

“She deserves to know that you’re ill.”

“I am going to send for her; I think it’s time to pardon her. I want her to be there for my last moments.”

Mary saw the way he worded the decision, like he was waiting for her to disagree but she simply smiled and kissed him.

“Bring her back home.”

Their tune changed far too soon. Whatever softness that overcame Francis and Mary towards Catherine died when they learned of her schemes. Instead of taking the time to question her regrettable choices and make amends, Catherine de Medici spent her exile plotting to destroy Mary. She was in England with Elizabeth, feeding her information that had the power to ruin Mary and get her killed.

Dread had threatened to drown her when Narcisse came to them that very evening with news that Elizabeth sent a delegation to Rome to tell the Pope about her infidelity. Charges of adultery resulted in queens getting beheaded, Catherine knew that and still she advised Elizabeth to do it. Francis was beyond enraged at the act of betrayal, his mother wanted his wife dead and he would move heaven and earth before he let that happen.

Mary turned to her husband with horror stricken amber eyes.

“Francis I cannot take on two queens at the same time.”

His teeth clenched and he reached to hold his wife against his chest.

“You will not have to; Catherine is my mother. As a member of my household, she is my responsibility. I will deal with her myself.”

It was a good thing they were recently in business with pirates who were experts in all things unsavory. If he had to extract his traitorous mother from behind Elizabeth’s army, he would do it. It was time for Catherine de Medici to come home and face her son. To make her sorry attempts at justifying her sins before he punished her far more brutally than before.

Chapter Text

Francis had spent the entire night tossing and turning, his headache wouldn’t ease and the fever didn’t break until dawn. Which was why it was almost time for lunch and he had yet to wake from his slumber. Once Miguel’s medication had put him to sleep, Mary hadn’t the heart to wake him so she handled all court duties herself. If her husband learned how much time she spent on her feet merely three days after giving birth, he was sure to tie her to her bed but practically, one of them had to maintain the charade.

They had agreed to break the news of Francis’s illness after a private family luncheon that afternoon so it was time that her husband left his bed. Mary had just finished feeding William under the supervision of the twins; from the moment they were introduced to their younger brother, James and Edward followed him around. If it were up to them, the baby would sleep in the same room as them but for all of their sakes, William had his own nursery.  No matter how much she wanted her baby to sleep with her, she couldn’t bring him to their chambers; Francis’s illness was progressing too rapidly and they were worried about the infection making the baby sick too. More than that, some of his symptoms were terrifying to her so she couldn’t imagine their children exposed to such a sight.

That was what prompted her to bring the boys to wake their father today; he was looking much better and the babies hadn’t seen him in two days, they missed their Papa. Francis had his face pressed into the pillows that left indents on his cheeks and his beautiful golden hair was a sweaty mess but Mary was grateful for every sign that he was still with them. She gently helped the twins up to the bed while she held William in her arms.

“Be gentle with your father boys, he’s feeling poorly.”

She whispered to them and smiled when she saw her husband’s lips twitch and lashes flutter. Jamie tucked on his Papa’s hair as softly as he could while Eddie patted his cheek to wake him up.

“Papa, Papa.”

Jamie joined his brother’s chanting.

“Papa, get up!”

William was wide awake in his mother’s arms, his beautiful blue eyes taking in as much of the world he could see and cooing at the sounds of his brothers.

Francis finally opened his eyes with an exaggerated groan that left his sons giggling at his silliness; normally, he wouldn’t miss the chance to play wrestle with the twins but seeing as he needed his wife’s help to sit up and lean against the headboard, he couldn’t be too physical with them. Mary lowered her newborn on the mattress before stepping back to hand her husband the cocktail of herbal remedies that he had to take every morning.

The effect was instantaneous; some color returned to his cheeks and his ragged breathing settled. His medicine was followed by a light meal in bed so he could have enough energy to walk to the private dining room.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

Mary whispered to him as he played a clapping game with James while Edward fawned over his baby brother.

“I wish you would agree to sleep in the Queen’s chambers, I hate disturbing you at night.”

Her eyes flashed with irritation at his plea and she scoffed.

“And I told you I will not leave you; I have the rest of my life to spend nights without you. You will not make me do it now.”

Francis closed his eyes and reclined his head against the pillows, he really didn’t want to fight with her but he could see how his restless nights exhausted her too.

“I just want to take care of you while I still can.”

Mary scooted closer to him until her head was leaning on his shoulder and their children were sitting in the middle of the bed, distracted by their own conversation.

“You take care of me all the time, let me look after you for once.”

There was a pause in their talk while Francis gathered his thoughts, he covered William’s chest with his hand and enjoyed the feeling of it rising and falling with every breath he took.

“I was thinking about your regency.”

“What about it?”

Mary was startled at the change in subject but something in his expression told her that his thoughts were a long time coming.

“With my mother back, Bash and I have come to the realization that many nobles would rather have their king be a boy than a baby.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“After my death; James will be king with you as his regent but that will not stop my mother. She wants you dead and nothing will stop her from coming after you, she will sabotage you.”

“This was exactly why I told you to have her executed. Her crimes are treasonous and my children will always be in danger as long as she lives.”

Francis clenched his teeth in frustration, he shifted so he could get off the bed. He walked over to the washbasin behind a screen to wipe away the dried layer of sweat that had made his skin clammy, sweating was a good thing according to Doctor Miguel but all it did was serve as a constant physical reminder of his illness. Mary arranged the pillows to prevent the twins from climbing off the bed before making her way to her husband’s side.

“I won’t have my mother killed as my last act as King.”

“Please don’t talk like that, especially after last night.”

His eyes softened at the fear in her eyes and he pulled her closer to hold her hands.

“I understand how difficult this is for you but we must be realistic. My illness has been progressing rapidly and I need to ensure my family’s security after I’m gone.”

She pushed down the overwhelming grief and smiled at him which might have come across as a grimace.

“What is your plan then?”

“I have come to the conclusion that as long as Charles has a claim to the throne, Catherine and her allies will not rest until their preferred Valois is King. Every noble loyal to my father would rather have Charles as King than James.”

“Francis we cannot get rid of anyone with a claim to France.”

“You’re right; but we can neutralize them. We can combine the two familial lines; my brothers’ claim with my sons’. There is only one simple solution to our problem.”

“What do you propose we do?”

Francis took a deep breath; he knew that what he was about to say won’t be easy for her to accept but he saw no other way. He had to protect her and support her regency after his passing.

“I think you should marry Charles.”

Mary wretched her hands free from his grip, her entire body was rigid with rage.

“Marry your brother? Have you lost your mind?!”

Her shriek startled little William who began to wail, prompting her to rush to him and hold him in her arms. Mary rocked the crying baby trying to calm him down and reassuring the twins that their parents were not fighting.

“Try to understand love. Charles’s support will keep you safe from Mother’s scheming.”

She hid her face in her baby’s soft curls to breath in his comforting scent.

“I am not marrying anyone ever again and seeing as we both have heirs to rule after us; I have no need to make another marriage alliance.”

Her stubborn declaration was met with a melancholy smile.

“You are nineteen Mary; do you really plan on spending the rest of your life as a widow?”

Her eyes burned but she blinked back the tears with clenched teeth.

“I would rather be alone than marry someone who will never measure up to you.”

Francis made his way to her side, he held her face like it was the most precious of gemstones, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Marrying Charles would give your regency even more legitimacy. Mary, you know this makes sense… we are not strangers to the burdens of royalty. This is a chance to strengthen the alliance.”

“Don’t compare our engagement to whatever this would be. You and I… we’re more than an alliance; we’re different… we love each other.”

The corner of his eyes crinkled and his lips curved upwards, he leaned in to press a lingering kiss on her temple.

“And we always will; no future marriage will change what we are to each other. I just wanted to keep you safe, to secure Jamie’s reign.”

Mary evaded his affectionate touches and walked over to the balcony to think it over. William was finally lulled to sleep by her rocking but she had yet to put him down. When she looked out into the palace grounds from their balcony, she saw Charles and Henry playing a game of catch with their friends. The unburdened joy on their faces reminded her how young Charles truly was, he wasn’t even twelve yet and already he was considered as a suitor to prop up her regency. In a way she could understand Francis’s reasoning, she was all too aware of Catherine’s scheming. When her husband had fallen ill the first time, his mother’s first thought was to send for Charles and usurp her son’s throne to keep Mary away from power. After all that Catherine had done to destroy the Queen of Scots, she couldn’t risk her nation or her family just to spare herself some pain.

“Alright then; I will do as you say. I will marry your brother, even if it tears my heart into pieces.”

Francis had come to stand behind her, he pulled her close to him and tucked her head under his chin.

“I wish we didn’t have to do this, truly I do.”

“It’s as you said once; we are royalty, love is irrelevant to us.”

As every day passed, she prayed for the strength to live without Francis’s love and protection.

“Now all we have to do is convince Charles to marry me.”

“It shouldn’t be too difficult, he adores you.”

An hour later; Francis revealed the news of his illness to his younger siblings and the reactions were not as brutal as they had expected. It was only when Charles was asked to remain behind after the luncheon that the real drama began; his answer to Francis’s proposal was quite vocal.

“No… never. I am not marrying your wife after you die.”

“Charles this is what’s best for all of us. After I am gone, people will use you as a means to gain a puppet King. Your claim will become a danger to Mary and to James, you don’t want any harm to come to your nephews, do you?”

Charles paused his self-righteous rage at the mention of danger to his nephews; he loved Jamie and Eddie, they were more than his nephews, the little boys had become his friends. He didn’t want any harm to come to them because of him, but he couldn’t marry his sister-in-law. She loved his brother in a way that he wanted from his future wife, it wasn’t fair that he would be forced to wed someone who would never love him.

“I want to choose my own bride, I want to marry someone of my age, someone young.”

“Hey! How old do you think I am?”

Mary blurted out at the way Charles wrinkled his nose at the mention of a young bride. Francis tried to hide his amusement at her irritation and could already feel a headache coming on at the stubborn look on his brother’s face.

“Marriage to the Queen of Scotland and Queen Mother of France will give you the freedom to do whatever you wanted. All you have to do is agree to this union and combine your claim with Mary’s claim to the regency.”

Charles raised his chin in open defiance.

“And what does Mother say about your grand plan?”

“It is as I have said before, Mother’s opinion no longer matters.”

“I demand to see her! She will make you cease this nonsense.”

Francis and Mary were both taken aback by the ferocity of his words, the king narrowed his eyes at his little brother.

“I am your King; you demand nothing.”

“For now…”

Mary stepped back when she saw her husband’s eye twitch like it did when he was barely controlling his temper.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“In order for me to marry your wife, you need to be dead. Once you’re gone, no one can force me to do anything. I will definitely not be taking orders from a toddler.”

Without waiting for the response of the adults in the room, Prince Charles stomped out, slamming the doors to his brother’s study on the way. Francis moved to follow him but was stopped by his wife. Mary gently led him to take a seat and poured him a glass of sweet summer wine.

“If our boys grow up to be that bratty, I apologize in advance for not being there to help.”

“I like to think that our parenting is very different to your parents’. How you turned out so well is beyond my comprehension.”

Francis chortled at her quip but it soon turned into an exasperated sigh, roughly rubbing at his face, he turned to his wife with a frown.

“What will we do with Charles? He cannot meet Mother; who knows what nonsense she will tell him. He might be even less willing to see reason.”

“I’m not sure; letting him see Catherine is a risk but once you are no longer here, he will be able to see her either way.”

“Denying him right now will only alienate him further, you’re right.”

A thought crossed her mind and Mary was surprised that she didn’t see it before.

“Francis! Charles doesn’t want to see Catherine in an official capacity. He’s a little boy wanting the comfort of his mother.”

“You’re right.”

“We should let Catherine comfort him, if he sees that we are willing to listen to him; it will be easier to get him to listen to us too.”

Francis nodded at his wife and patted the space next to him on the chaise so she could sit beside him. Every day since he learned of his impending death, he’d mourned the loss of his family. He wouldn’t get to see his sons grow into men; he wouldn’t see his wife grow into her role as Queen. Already, her intelligence, compassion made him proud; it saddened him to know that they would no longer have chances to work together like they were now. That was why he worked so hard; to ensure that even in his absence his wife and sons would thrive the way they were meant to.

Returning from his mother’s prison brought an onslaught of complicated emotions in him. Francis knew that the best and safest decision would be to expose her treason and have Catherine de Medici punished. However; she was his mother and in her own twisted mind, she genuinely believed that her actions were for his benefit. Francis was no stranger to brutal actions made with the best intentions; he once locked up his pregnant wife to prevent her from leaving for Scotland, his greatest regret was signing the Edict that led to the attack on the castle and his daughter’s death. He could sympathize with his mother but that didn’t mean that he trusted her one bit.

Those thoughts accompanied the King as he made his way to meet with his friend and the mother of his child. Lola was evading him for days and he had no clue as to why, it was true that he chose to spend every possible moment with Mary for the last few months but that didn’t change the fact that Lola was rarely ever in the castle these days. The second his wife told him that she and Lola had returned to the castle, Francis headed for her chambers.

“Hello stranger.”

He greeted Lola with a playful smile and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She was in the middle of swaddling little Jean so he could have his afternoon nap when he interrupted her.

“I have been a terrible friend, haven’t I?”

“I wouldn’t say terrible, just absent. Where have been sneaking off to Lola?”

Instead of replying to his questioning, she smiled at him sadly and looked down at their son. Jean was so tired from his day of playing with his brothers that the second he was placed in his cot, he nodded off.

“I talked to Mary while I was out picking the berries that Jean likes.”

Francis swallowed thickly.

“How much did she tell you?”

Lola answered his question by closing the distance between them and pulling him into a gentle hug.

“Is there truly no chance of recovery?”

“I am afraid not.”

Lola didn’t even bother to keep her tears at bay; her heart broke for him and for Mary, they’d just had another child it was not fair for their happiness to be so short lived. They deserved so much better, after so many trials they should have their happily ever after.

“I want you to know that I have ensured that you and Jean will be taken care of after I am gone; Bash will personally see to all your needs.”

Lola chuckled at his promise.

“Mary was right; you have protected us all for so long, even now your main concern is us. It will be very dark here without you.”

“Lola, I know it’s a lot to ask…”

“I will look after her, as long as I live; Mary and your children will have my loyalty.”

“Thank you.”

“You can rest easy Francis; your family has many people to look after them.”

His countenance brightened at the small reassurance and Lola could tell how much relief it brought him to know that he wasn’t leaving them helpless. She wanted to confess her feelings for Stephane to him, she owed Francis the truth about the man she would bring into their son’s life. The second that she mustered the courage to reveal her secret romance, they were interrupted by a servant girl who requested a word with the King.

Lola left the room instead of making them find another place to talk and it was only moments later that the closed door to her chambers opened. Francis’s face was darkened with rage as he stepped out.

“I am going to the village; send for the Queen and Prince Charles immediately.”

He spat through clenched teeth, reminding himself that it wasn’t the poor servant girl’s fault that his mother was a conniving shrew. He rode to the village and was accompanied by five men; assassins wouldn’t surrender easily. When he retrieved the missive Charles wrote from Germaine, Francis felt his nostrils flair at his younger brother’s foolishness and his mother’s brutality.

When his wife’s carriage arrived and his brother stepped out with a carefree grin on his face it took every ounce of self-control in Francis to resist the urge to slap the smile off his face.

“Hello brother, are we drinking in a tavern today?”

The smile on Charles’s face died when he saw the way his older brother was seething, he appeared ready to chew him out.

“Did you send a message to the village? To a man named Germaine.”

The moment that Charles realized that he had been caught, he stepped back and flexed his hands to steady his voice so he wouldn’t give himself away.

“I have no idea what you are referring to.”

Francis and Mary shared an exasperated glance at his stubbornness before she addressed her brother-in-law.

“Do you truly believe that we would leave Catherine unsupervised? Free to plot against us?”

Charles’s heart pounded in his chest at being caught in a lie.

“We chose Mother’s cell very carefully; there’s a hole in the wall we created to keep an eye on her every move.”

“You lied to us; you have no intention of marrying me.”

Instead of an apology, the young Prince’s cheeks reddened in indignation at the reminder that his brother was forcing him to marry his widow after he died. It was not his fault that people would rather see him rule than his sister-in-law, why should he pay the price for someone else’s schemes?

“Fine I did it! I told you I don’t want a wife and you didn’t listen. Mother wanted to help me, educate me so I could step up and protect the family after you died.”

Francis shook his head at the naivety of Charles and how easily his mother had manipulated him.

“Mother’s education was what made you to send a coded message to Germaine?”

“Yes! All I asked was for a full reckoning of crown’s accounts, what’s so terrible about that?”

Mary was still in the carriage and resisted the urge to facepalm at Charles’s foolish behavior. Francis grimaced and gestured to the guards who were busy pushing five chained men.

“Allow me to introduce to Lord Germaine and his unsavory accomplices, little brother.”

Charles frowned at the rugged appearance of the men and the weapons that the guards had confiscated from them.

“Germain is a trained killer; your message was a code created to hatch an assassination of King Antione and his entire family.”

“Mother wanted me to kill the Bourbons?”

“The first lesson in an education by Catherine de Medici. Is this really who you wish to become?”

Mary’s question made Charles turn to his brother in remorse.

“Francis I didn’t know. Mother was so kind and understanding.”

Francis shook his head.

“You tried to trick us, I asked you to help me protect our siblings and my children, to protect France from Civil War and you chose to lie to me instead. Our mother would have you kill an entire family; King Antione has children, a seven-year-old boy and a newborn baby girl. If that’s the kind of man you wish to be then how can I trust you around your nephews? You disappointed me, Charles.”

Whatever false bravado the eleven-year-old had shattered at the thought that he’d disappointed his brother. Charles’s lips quivered and eyes misted at the way Francis dismissed the apology he tried to make. The King mounted his horse and made his way back to the castle without a second look at his wayward brother.

Mary felt a tugging at her heartstrings at the saddened boy and she ushered him inside the carriage. The ride back to the castle was quite because of Charles but eventually she decided to speak to him. Mary gently covered his hand with hers and smiled at him in reassurance.

“Francis will cool off eventually.”

“I didn’t know what Mother was planning.”

“Catherine is a skilled manipulator; it’s not your fault but you did choose to betray your brother and that was not right.”

Mary’s warm smile was almost maternal and it helped Charles relax, something about his sister-in-law made him feel like he could trust her.

“What can I do to make it up to him?”

“I know just the thing…”

Confronting his mother gave Charles the opportunity to see the true Catherine de Medici; the shrewd and cunning woman who felt no remorse for her terrible decisions and would justify them until she was blue in the face. Whenever his sisters would badmouth his mother, he would always think that they were being ungrateful but perhaps that was not the case. He knew that he needed to put a stop to her schemes, she wouldn’t use him for her benefit or for power anymore. His brother needed his help, Charles would have to put aside his selfish desires and accept that his duty was to marry a woman seven years his senior in order to protect his family and his country.

“Stop this, Mother. I don’t wish to hear any more excuses.”

“My son, I did what was best for France, for the House of Valois to rule, any potential usurpers must be disposed.”

Mary clenched her jaw and bit her lip to stop herself from butting in, this was Charles’s battle and he was doing wonderfully.

“I am a potential usurper Mother! I will not allow you or anyone to endanger Jamie’s rule.”

Mary watched with a satisfied smirk on her lips as Charles left the cell with heated steps.

“Wipe the smug grin away daughter. You’ll be in my place soon enough. You won’t even see it coming but one day a young little thing will turn your son away from you.”

Mary scoffed at the mere notion that her relationship with her children would be as dysfunctional as Catherine’s with hers.

“No I won’t; and do you know why?”

“I’m sure you can’t wait to tell me.”

“I don’t cling to my sons to hold on to power. And I don’t need to, I was a Queen before I married Francis and I will be a Queen long after he is gone. I don’t see my children as a means to an end.”

“You are just so noble, aren’t you?”

 Catherine sneered at her daughter-in-law. She was rewarded by a predatory grin that promised emotional damage.

“And unlike you Catherine, I don’t need my sons’ undying devotion to compensate for the fact that my husband would rather bed a million women that be faithful to me.”

Her words cut deeper than a knife to the heart and Catherine saw red, without thought, she raised her hand to strike Mary. Her wrist was caught in a bruising grip before her palm could collide with the Queen’s cheek.

“I warned you never to raise your hand to me again.”

She pushed Catherine away from her and made her own exit. Her husband was waiting for her and she refused to waste any more precious time arguing with the former Queen Mother.

As Mary was walking through the hallways towards the royal quarters, she felt a presence following her. She discretely reached for the hidden pocket sewn into her skirts and gripped the hilt of the knife tucked inside. Soft footsteps came behind her and if the hallway wasn’t so empty, she might have missed the movement altogether. Mary spun around to attack her assailant but stopped short when she recognized the familiar face.

“John! I see you have returned to court. Does that mean your mission was a success?”

The leader of the Queen’s Guard tilted her head in respect and smirked.

“The Prince of Conde is chained in the tower.”

Mary felt a huge burden lift off her chest and she smiled.

“Well done. Though I had no doubts in your capabilities. You and your men should rest up now, tomorrow you will be briefed on your role at court.”

John bowed before leaving his Queen, his steps as silent as ever.

Mary rushed to share the news with Francis with no further delay. He was already dressed for bed and from the medicinal scent in their chambers, she could guess that Doctor Miguel had just left after his session with the King.

“Guess what?”

Even though the stress of the day left him unable to sit up, he couldn’t help but smile at the spring in her step as she made her way to sit under the covers beside him.

“What’s got you in such a good mood? It cannot be a conversation with my mother.”

Mary’s hand found her place in his hair, brushing the strands away so they could no longer block the view of his bright eyes.

“The Queens Guard has returned.”

Francis’s eyes widened at the implication.

“Did they...?”

“They caught Conde… he’s in the dungeons awaiting trail and his inevitable execution.”

He released a sigh of relief; he was so worried that Conde would return to create problems for Mary after his death. It eased him to know that the man who caused so much strife would soon be punished for his treason.

“I’ll write a letter to invite Antoine to court myself.”

Mary frowned at her husband.

“Are you sure about the deal? Do you truly think it best?”

“Navarre may be small but it’s a political nightmare for France. This alliance will be the best way to neutralize the Bourbons, without resorting to a war we are in no position to afford.”

Mary was still apprehensive about her husband’s plan but she could see the merit in it. She shook her head to free her mind from politics and ruling to focus on the moment. She lied down beside him and rested her head on his chest, her ear placed right above his heart to hear it beat. They stayed like that for a long time, her head on his chest and his hand caressing her hair. They talked quietly about everything and nothing, the comfortable aura lulled them to further relaxation when the doors to their chambers opened.

Charles burst in with no warning, causing Mary to sit up in alarm while Francis pushed himself so he leaned against the headboard. He addressed his brother with a tired voice.

“Charles, what is it?”

“I was just in the nursery with the twins, playing with them. I realized that you were right, both of you were. What’s right and wrong does matter to me. Mother is trying to turn me into someone I’m not.”

Charles saw the encouragement in Mary’s eyes and came closer to talk to his brother.

“I’m sorry Francis. From now on I will do as you ask.”

He nodded at Mary

“I will be honored to take you as my wife.”

“The honor is mine.”

Francis on the other hand was still vary of his little brother.

“What changed your mind?”

“I refuse to be used as a pawn to harm Mary or my nephews. It’s as you’ve always taught us, we are stronger when we stand together.”

Charles declared with his jaw set in determination.

“Good.”

“Will you forgive me?”

His voice turned delicate as he asked his older brother for forgiveness.

“Be the man who succeeds by building himself up instead of cutting his enemies down and you will be worth admiring.”

Charles returned his brother’s smile with his own. His cheeks burned when he noticed Mary looking at him with pride. It was so strange to think that the woman who treated him with the same affection she gave her children would one day be his wife. Not wanting to intrude any longer, Charles quietly took his leave.

Francis pulled his wife back into his arms the moment the door. She had yet to change out of her gown and the jewels in her ears tickled his neck but he refused to let her go to undress.

“He’s going to need you Mary. I never saw how much my siblings needed a mother’s unconditional love. They’re going to need you even more after I’m gone.”

Mary craned her neck to look into his imploring gaze, she pressed a soft kiss onto the skin of his throat.

“I will love them like I love the boys. They will always have me, I promise you.”

After Francis had succumbed to his drug induced sleep, Mary left the bed. She was restless and didn’t want to disturb her husband so she left him to rest while she roamed the halls. The nights were always peaceful and quiet at the Chateau since everyone at court retired at sundown if there wasn’t any festivity. Somehow Mary found herself in the Chapel, she slipped inside and knelt before the candle lit altar.

Coming here to pray was something that Mary had begun to do much more regularly than before. Not only did she feel like she needed absolution for the sins she committed with Conde but also to beg for a miracle for her husband. Francis was becoming more and more melancholy as his illness progressed and she couldn’t burden him with her grief as well. Kneeling before God in this place of worship was the only time she had to let go and feel the depths of her heartbreak, to cry until her eyes could no longer shed tears.

Mary spent an hour in prayer and isolation before she made the decision to check on her mother-in-law. A very spiteful part of her couldn’t wait to share Charles’s decision with Catherine, the woman had completely abandoned her after promising her understanding and support. Catherine’s hatred of the Bourbons resulted in such a deep desire to ruin Mary that she didn’t even think how it would hurt her son or her grandchildren.

“Have you come to bring me more misery daughter?”

Catherine looked defeated and Mary couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

“Not really. I wanted to know why you went to such lengths. You have no love for the English and yet still you conspired with Elizabeth to destroy me, surely you must’ve known that Francis would never forgive you after such a betrayal.”

“Francis was lost to me the moment you decided to tattle on me like a child.”

“No, he wasn’t, he missed you. He had decided to lift your banishment before we learned of your treason.”

Catherine’s eyes widened.

“You’re lying!”

Mary merely shook her head.

“I have no reason to lie to you, I don’t want you and Francis to be at odds. I know you love your children but you don’t trust them and it hurts them.”

“Don’t attempt to school me at parenting, I was a mother long before you.”

“And yet every one of your children eventually comes to know how toxic you truly are. Francis is dying, please Catherine make your apologies. Fix the damage you did to your son before it’s too late.”

She glared at Mary at her false attempt at compassion.

“The first thing I do when Charles lets me out of this cell is throw you out of France.”

Mary rolled her eyes and scolded herself for thinking that she could reason with this woman.

“Charles won’t be letting you out any time soon.”

“What have you done to my baby boy?”

“I have done nothing. However, you would be interested to know that another one of your sons has happily agreed to take me as his wife. It seems that just like Francis, Charles trusts my advice way more than yours.”

Catherine spat at the feet of the smug girl in disrespect.

“You selfish whore!”

“You should be very kind to me now, we are trying very hard to allow you to keep your head but acts like this will only make me mad. Francis has already killed one parent, he cannot be burdened with taking your life too. The next King though, will be too busy learning how to talk to care about his grandmother.”

“Charles would never let you get rid of me.”

Mary only smirked at Catherine.

“Charles is young and impressionable; he already mistrusts you. It wouldn’t much effort on my part to make him see the benefits of dispatching you.”

Catherine sneered at her with pure loathing in her eyes.

“Well played daughter.”

“Don’t think of crossing us again.”

With those parting words, Mary turned around to leave the vile woman to her misery. As she exited the door; she could hear Catherine demanding to see the King, to see her son but no one answered her cries. Maybe if she hadn’t literally spat in the face of Mary’s olive branch, she wouldn’t be treated with such indignity now. If someone didn’t want to be helped then all there was left to do was to leave them to their own devices.

Chapter Text

He heard the click of heels on the cobblestones long before the heavy door to his cell opened. Months on the run and in hiding, knowing that he was being hunted like a rabid dog made him unprepared for the luxury that the Queen of France and Scotland was dripping in. Decked in cream silk with pearls and diamonds made her stand out in the dreary dungeons. Louis couldn’t help but wonder what she thought of his tattered clothing, black eye and unkempt hair.

“You look like hell.”

Mary’s hands were folded over her abdomen as she looked down at the man who brought her family so much pain and suffering.

“You can thank your lackeys for that, roughed me up properly.”

“They weren’t supposed to do that, I’ll speak with them.”

Mary’s furrowed brows and faux concern made him break out in a fit of laughter.

“You’re hilarious! Taking me to the gallows while worrying about a few scrapes.”

She sighed at his behavior, what else did she expect? He was right, he was awaiting trial and an execution so what did it matter if he got a bit hurt.

“Why are you here anyway Mary? Shouldn’t you be fawning over your newest spawn? Tell me, is it a bastard as you made me believe?”

Conde’s bruised lips curled into a jeering smile, which grew wider when she bristled at the implication.

“Prince William Francis is the very image of his father, the King; and for you to suggest otherwise…”

“Is what? Treason? Nothing new for me.”

Instead of allowing herself to be taunted further, Mary decided to reveal the real reason for her visit.

“King Antione is currently in France and on his way to court.”

Louis felt hope bloom in his chest, his brother was the King of Navarre, there’s no way Francis could have him killed if Antoine demanded they release him.

“He will free me…”

He breathed to himself in relief.

“Don’t count your blessings yet Louis, we plan on making your death very attractive for him.”

“You could offer him the world and he’d still chose to save his family.”

Mary raised an eyebrow, challenging his declaration. She wasn’t really sure if she agreed, Antione was ambitious and had a self-preservation streak a mile long.

“Are you sure about that?”

Conde lifted his chin at her in stubbornness.

“Antione would never turn his back on me, unlike the Valois, family means something to us.”

Mary’s eyes hardened at the dig at her family and she responded with a sharp tongue.

“Alright then; if you have so much faith in your brother then you have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried at all.”

“However; if there’s any doubt in your mind, which I won’t judge you if you do. The Antione I know would choose power over anything, if I were you; I’d start praying for absolution.”

Mary then left her former lover to stew, to think over her piece of advice. She needed to make another stop before she could return to her husband. Catherine was stirring up trouble again and had managed to find herself in the infirmary due to self-inflicted wounds. She was sure that the encounter would leave her in desperate need of a stiff drink. But she couldn’t shirk her duties any more than she could allow rumors of Francis’s absence spread, especially with the new English Ambassador sniffing around.

Francis was pacing before the fireplace when she entered their chambers, he was dressed in a loose white tunic and comfortable trousers, the perfect attire to lounge in their quarters all day. There was a constant sheen of sickness on his features now and with how frequent his episodes had become, his disappearance from court was all the more necessary. He stopped short when he saw her and strode over to hold her hands.

“What did he say? You look tense.”

“Just the same old vitriol but it’s not Conde that worries me; it’s your mother. She’s acting out and soon we won’t be able to hide her imprisonment.”

Francis released a sigh in exasperation and moved to sit on the divan with his wife before she began her account of the morning.

“…when I went to the infirmary to talk to her, she was apoplectic. She blamed me for her situation, told me I was sucking France dry…”

Her story was interrupted by her husband’s casual touches when they turned less casual and more heated. It seemed Francis was in a mischievous mood.

“Prettiest vampire I’ve ever seen. You know you can suck me dry any time.”

The words were said with an impish grin and were followed by a kiss to her collarbone. Mary felt her cheeks heat at the innuendo and she playfully smacked his shoulder, trying to hide her blush.

“Francis! What has gotten into you?”

“I have made a very important decision.”

“Have you now?”

“Yes I have, I think that instead of worrying about Conde or my mother, we should spend our day in bed.”

Her smile widened at his blatant attempt at seduction.

“While it’s a wonderful idea, my love, you cannot strain yourself.”

Already, his breathing was getting heavier with every moment he spent on his feet, there was no way she was going to risk his recovery for a few moments of pleasure.

“I just miss you… I miss the way things used to be… I miss who I used to be. I hate being so weak.”

Mary clicked her tongue in disapproval, her hands on his cheeks to bring him closer to her.

“You are not weak. Besides, I’m still healing from the birth so any lovemaking is out of the question.”

She knew that if it came to her comfort, Francis would agree to anything and it was a good way to get him to stop feeling so guilty for their lack of physical intimacy as of late.

“I’m sorry for pushing. There’re just so many things I wish we could’ve done; eating oranges freshly plucked from the trees in Nice, dancing under the stars of the Louvre Palace.”

“We were married there; it was one of the happiest days of my life.”

“Mine too, I just wish there were less nobles and dignitaries. We didn’t have enough time together and we barely go to dance.”

Francis’s eyes misted as the helplessness cast its shadow over him once more, why did they waste so much time? If he could return to the day she returned from convent, he would’ve never let her go, never put her through the turmoil he did.

“Darling, look at me; we will do all those things, you mustn’t give up hope.”

Mary brushed away the tears that escaped his eyes with her thumb and pulled him into her embrace. Her husband welcomed the warmth of her body, melting into her arms with a sigh. Their moment was soon interrupted by Sebastian’s arrival in their chambers.

“You look dead on your feet little brother.”

“Bash!”

Mary scolded his insensitive words but Francis merely chuckled at the dark humor.

“At least I’m dying, what’s your excuse?”

She really didn’t understand their relationship.

“I’ve been searching for Delphine.”

“The killer?”

Bash shook his head at his brother.

“I don’t think Delphine is responsible for the murders.”

“Well, I have every confidence that you will bring the killer to justice.”

While Francis and Bash discussed the daily report, Mary’s mind wandered to Conde and his upcoming trial. A part of her was worried about Antoine’s reaction, what if he really did care about his brother enough to risk war and give up a chance to gain power?

“I actually came to tell you that Antoine has arrived. Who should be sent to receive him?”

“Send Claude; have the Princess escort him to his chambers, I will meet with him in the King’s study in an hour.”

Bash nodded at Mary before leaving to carry out the instructions.

“Are you sure you can treat with him on your own?”

Francis asked his wife.

“I will handle the negotiations; Antione cannot see you like this. He will pounce at any sign of weakness and we can’t let that happen.”

“Do what you think is best, I trust you completely.”

That very afternoon found Mary in her husband’s study, prepared to receive the King of Navarre. Mary decided to sit on the chairs before the hearth, selecting a comfortable place to have the discussion to ensure that both parties were at ease. When Antoine entered the room, she stood to greet him with all the deference owed to a fellow monarch.

“King Antoine; welcome back to court.”

Antoine nodded at Mary and accepted her offer of a drink with no hesitation.

“Queen Mary… where is the King?”

“Francis is seeing to an important matter regarding national security, he has given me leave to negotiate on his behalf.”

Antoine crossed his leg and leaned back in his cushy chair while his calculated gaze observed Mary.

“Negotiate? You have my brother chained up like a common criminal.”

“Rest assured he is being given the proper care that he deserves.”

“You and Francis have had your fun, now release him.”

Mary scoffed dismissively at the demand and took a long sip of her scotch before answering.

“You seem to be confused Antoine; you are under the impression that this is a situation in which you have some negotiating power. Trust me, you don’t.”

“If you have no intention of releasing my brother then why am I here?”

“Conde will die at first light tomorrow; you are here to determine whether you shall be implicated in his crimes or not.”

Antione stood up with fury in his eyes and pointed an accusatory finger at her.

“It was his love for you that drove him to such lengths, you duplicitous bitch. How dare you pin this on me?”

Mary merely stared back at his display of male posturing.

"Sit down Antoine! We have proof of your plan to topple the House of Valois and sell me out to Elizabeth to put Conde on the throne. Your brother was foolish enough to leave his letters and journal where I could find them.”

Antoine felt the earth shift from underneath him and fell back into his chair. His mind cursed his stupid little brother and himself for underestimating his enemies.

“What will you do to us?”

“It’s as I said before, Louis is a French citizen who turned on his King, his death is set in stone. You are a bit more complicated; you are French but your marriage to the Queen of Navarre makes us unable to punish you directly.”

Mary leaned forward in her seat and rested her chin on her palm nonchalantly.

“However, Francis considers your attempts an open declaration of war. He plans on retaliating with the support of the Spanish Armada. Seeing as Navarre is not much of a military power, it won’t end well for you.”

“Navarre will not stand such an invasion. Let us be diplomatic, find an alternative solution.”

Mary’s smile widened when he gave her just the opening she was waiting for. Instead of replying to his proposal, she stood up to retrieve the contract that was kept in her husband’s desk. Antoine scanned the document when she handed it to him with careful consideration.

“Francis is not a brute nor is he unreasonable; he has made a very generous proposal. Leave your brother to face justice and sign away your family’s claim to France, the Bourbon claim to France and you will get all you’ve ever wanted.”

Antoine pursed his lips.

“Betray my brother in exchange for a crown.”

“It is a difficult choice to make I’m sure, but Francis is sincere in his efforts to mend the cracks between our houses. With your daughter married to our son; she will be the next Queen of France, your grandson the future King. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

“Of course it is!  Henry destroyed the Bourbons because of our claim, you are offering to place my blood on the throne.”

“Then accept the offer, Antoine. Let your brother face the consequences of his treason and agree to a marriage alliance between our two countries. Don’t risk war and a thousand lives for a single man.”

Mary watched with anticipation as the man before her mulled over the pros and cons of the treaty, praying that she was right about his character. That he would rather chase his own ambitions than throw away a golden chance for his brother.

“Very well then; I agree to your terms.”

“Wonderful, I look forward to meeting my future daughter-in-law.”

Mary clapped her hands together but her joy was short lived, Antoine frowned at the contract.

“I will sign the contract only after I’ve discussed it with the King.”

“I’ve told you; Francis is unavailable at the moment.”

“I won’t agree to anything without meeting with your husband. I’ve heard the rumors Mary, no one’s see him in weeks. I don’t know why he’s hiding but if he wants my brother’s head, he will have to face me himself.”

Mary’s smile strained and already she could picture the fatigue her husband would face during an interaction with Antoine. If the King of Navarre caught a sniff of his illness, it would only weaken France further, no one could know of Francis’s weakness.

“We were planning on hosting a banquet for your arrival; we can meet then and announce the alliance between France and Navarre.”

Now she only needed to find a way to get her husband well enough to get through the night without betraying his condition.

Francis’s first attempt at rejoining court crashed and burned way too soon, they barely made it out of their wing of the castle before he collapsed from the exhaustion. Miguel’s herbs had helped in keeping his episodes and fever at bay but the infection was leeching at every bit of his energy. After learning of his fall, the only immediate solution Miguel had was a dose of Opium that Francis swiftly rejected. They tried again at dinner time an hour after the banquet had officially started, this time the hours of rest had paid off. No one could tell but the King wasn’t merely holding onto his wife in affection, he literally couldn’t stand on his own for too long.

Antoine was seated on the table closest to the entrance to the ballroom where the banquet was held. His razor-sharp eyes observed Francis like a hawk, they were lucky that they were too far away for him to notice his labored breathing. As soon as they approached, every guest stilled in respect; a frequent courtier called for dancing music for the king and queen. Refusing such a gesture would be a clear sign that something was amiss, everyone was aware that the royal couple never missed a chance to dance at gatherings. Francis silently led his wife into the dance as the musicians began the opening tune of the song.

“We don’t have to do this; I can feign illness and we can sit down instead.”

Mary’s concern was evident in her tone and while it was a good idea, he didn’t want to miss the chance to share a dance with his wife.

“No, I want this, I want to dance with you.”

Even years in the future, ladies of court would swoon at the romantic dance between the king and queen. How they moved in a fluid motion as if they were one entity, donning matching attires of black and gold, they resembled a fairytale. Somehow, the musicians seemed to understand the gravity of the situation because the music was bittersweet; enchanting in its melancholic harmony. Every twirl was like a glittering night sky come to life, both their bodies radiating love and grief while their eyes only saw one another. The dance was displayed before the entire court but still felt as private and intimate as if it was a moment in their bedchambers.

Francis knew his wife’s reservations with the display they were putting on, she didn’t want him to waste his strength on a dance when they had such an important alliance to cement. However, he knew the truth of their future and no matter how much Mary hoped for another outcome, his time in this world was coming to an end. He didn’t know if he would ever have moments with her like this, if he’d ever get the chance to share another dance; some inherent part of him was certain that this dance would be their last.

Which was why when it ended with him on his knees, both of their eyes were shining with unshed tears. It was a moving picture to be sure, the King of France and Scotland kneeling before his wife as she leaned down to press a kiss on the hand she held between hers. It might seem like a statement of devotion and reverence and it might’ve been, if not for the fact that Francis had lost his footing because something as simple as a waltz was enough to drain his strength and leave him breathless.

Unfortunately, during the time in which Francis and Mary were lost in each other, Antoine had left the celebrations.

“Where the hell is Antoine? Why did he leave?”

Mary shared a glance with Greer, who was given the task of keeping an eye on Antoine during his stay with the help of her ladies.

“He got an urgent message during your dance and he left.”

Francis huffed in irritation.

“What nonsense is this? Does he not understand what is at stake here?”

“Don’t strain yourself, I made it abundantly clear what his refusal would cost him. We will find out what made him change his mind.”

“At least my appearance put all rumors to rest of my mysterious absence.”

Mary smiled at her husband’s attempt at salvaging the situation.

“You should return to our chambers, there’s no point in staying here and needlessly exhausting yourself.”

Francis release a shuddering breath as he stepped closer to her, his hand at the back of her neck to pull her into a lingering kiss.

“Come get me when you find him, I want to put an end to his games myself.”

Instead of returning to his bedchambers like Mary had suggested, Francis made his way to the royal nursery. His conversation with Lola before the banquet flashed in his mind. He knew that he was harsher with her than he should have been, for everything that was between them Lola had rarely seen the darker side to him that reminded people that he was his parents’ son. His wife had even scolded him for the way he forbade her from seeing Narcisse, for confronting her about information he learned from his mother’s network of spies.

Francis just wanted his sons to grow up into the kind of men he wanted to raise them to be; after he was gone the only men in their life would be their uncles. While he was thankful for Bash, he knew that he would want to live his own life and it would be unfair of him to expect his older brother to parent his children. Charles was another matter altogether; one moment he was unabashedly flirting with his wife and the next abandoning his duties to chase after girls and lying about his whereabouts. He didn’t want Jean or any of his sons to think that people like Charles or Narcisse were what a man should be.

Jean was still with his mother in her chambers but James and Edward jumped with joy when he entered the nursery. Their nanny lightly scolded them for their hasty steps towards him but smiled nonetheless when Francis scooped both boys into his arms. William was sleeping in his cot and it was almost bedtime for the twins too but they had insisted on a story before that.

“My little warriors! I hope you were good for Nanny Josephine.”

James and Edward had their arms looped around his neck and nodded their heads at great speed at his question.

“Yes Papa!”

“We good boys.”

Francis addressed the nanny with a gentle smile.

“You may retire to your chambers Josephine, I’ll put the twins to bed.”

The nanny bowed in acknowledgement and picked up her belongings before leaving the nursery.

“Now… would you like Papa to tell you a story?”

He walked over to the bed in the nursery and laid down with the two overexcited boys. He made them cuddle into his side before starting his story.

“There was once a fierce little girl who came to live in a faraway kingdom; the girl was very special because she was a Queen. When she was six, she went to live in a big castle where she met a Prince. They didn’t get along at first but soon became the best of friends; they would do everything together. They climbed trees and walls, played hide and seek, chased each other around the castle, the prince always won the chasing games. The little girl and the little boy were happy together for a long time. But one day, evil men attacked the castle and tried to take the little queen. To keep her safe, she was sent away to a convent where she would stay until she was old enough to protect herself. The Queen and the Prince were very sad at being separated, but none of them lost hope. They knew that one day, they would see each other again and when they were older, nothing could keep them apart.”

By the time he finished his story, the toddlers had thankfully fallen asleep, lulled into dreamland by their father’s soft voice. He leaned down to kiss them on their tiny heads and it was only then did he notice that his cheeks were wet. Francis hadn’t even realized when his tale brought him to tears, if only what he said was true. No matter how much he wished for their love to last years, it seemed that fate was determined to keep them apart.

Francis carefully extracted himself from his sons’ hold to make sure they didn’t wake up. He walked over to William’s cot and hunched over to place a hand over his tiny torso, he could feel the constant rise and fall of his chest along with his beating heart. The baby was sleeping with his mouth open and he smiled to himself before wiping the drool off his chin. Francis simply watched his precious boys sleep soundly with no care in the world and it was torment to know that they would grow up without their father, just like their mother grew up without hers.

His talk with Stephane Narcisse was strangely endearing; the man who blackmailed and threatened his family was no where to be found. When Francis gave him his blessing to wed Lola, the man turned bashful. Narcisse reminded him of himself and how happy he’d been when his father had announced his impending nuptials with Mary. Charles’s confession made him see the side of Narcisse that Lola urged him to look for. If Lola truly wanted to marry Narcisse; then Francis didn’t want to stand in the way of her happiness, his only condition was that the wedding takes place as soon as possible so he may attend.

 It was merely moments after Stephane left the room that his wife entered with Lady Greer. Her face was flushed but the clenching of her jaw and her fists made it obvious that she was furious.

“What happened? Where is Antoine?”

“He met with Lord Nicolas, the English Ambassador. They are offering a better alliance and freedom for Conde if he rejects our deal.”

Francis stood up from his desk, boiling with rage.

“Where is he now?”

Mary and Greer exchanged a frown, her husband was spitting nails and for the first time she feared that he would do something rash. Greer left husband and wife to discuss the next steps alone, she’s never seen her King so enraged and it was unsettling to say the least.

“We are not sure, but he is supposed to meet Nicolas at midnight.”

“I would’ve made his daughter Queen, put a crown on his grandson’s head and still he entertains Elizabeth’s fickle promises?”

Mary stepped close to hold his shoulders to steady him.

“Calm down; we can get to him first. Remind him what a golden opportunity this is for Navarre, that nothing Elizabeth gives him will ever compare to a marriage alliance with France.”

Francis nodded at his wife and allowed her to help him into his coat. The only thing left to do was confront his cousin head on. That is the thought that motivated him to make the arduous journey to climb the castle’s highest tower in order to meet Antoine. The King of Navarre was shocked at their arrival, his lone bodyguard held his sword at the surprise visitors.

“If you’re waiting for Nicolas then sorry to disappoint but he’s not coming.”

Mary glared at the Bourbon King.

“You had me followed?”

“Don’t feign hurt cousin, you’re the one who walked away from diplomatic negotiations to entertain our enemy.”

Francis’s words were spoken softly, his tone never betraying the quite rage that simmered beneath the surface.

“Nicolas approached me with a counter offer that I couldn’t dismiss outright.”

“What could England offer you that we can’t give you tenfold? All you had to do was sign away the Bourbon family’s claim and leave Conde to his fate. Elizabeth has already turned her back on you once.”

Francis held out the contract to his cousin with an urgency that Antione narrowed his eyes at but didn’t comment.

“Sign the contract Antoine and Navarre will always be protected by France. Your daughter will be married to the Dauphin of France.”

When Antoine stepped closer to accept the scroll in his cousin’s hands; he came close enough to see the sheen of sweat on his forehead. The stress of the day and the number of stairs he climbed caught up on Francis and he winced at the wave of sharp pain that pierced his head. Mary rushed to her husband’s side but was stopped short when the moonlight hit his face, illuminating his features, including the blood trickling from his ear.

“Francis? Are you alright? You’re bleeding.”

Antoine frowned at the way he covered his ear to hide the bleeding.

“I’m fine, nothing to worry about. Please Antoine, just accept the treaty and we can both get what we want.”

“Why are you in such a hurry? You’re not simply ill, are you? Are you dying? You cannot possibly ask me to sign away my claim to a dying King.”

Francis glared at his cousin through his pain.

“What does it matter? Whether I die tomorrow or decades from now, Isabelle will marry James regardless.”

“I am not signing anything tonight.”

“Bold of you to cross me right now cousin. You’re right, I am dying but a dying king is capable of anything. Antoine, I could kill you, I could crush Navarre. Why would you tempt me to wage war on your country?”

“I don’t believe you capable of such savagery; your father was a tyrant and a brute but you’re not that kind of king.”

Antoine’s assumptions were disproven swiftly when Francis unsheathed his sword to dismember his bodyguard’s head before either of them had time to blink. Mary cried out in disbelief while Antoine stepped back, his hand reaching for his own sword.

“You misjudge me Antoine, I am every bit my father’s son. Mary will rule as James’s regent and you will not stand against them. If you don’t back down; I will take Navarre, pillage your cities, ransack your gold I don’t care. If I have to ruin France to do it, I won’t rest until your nation is nothing but ash.”

“You’ve gone mad! Mary, make your husband see sense.”

If Francis resembled a demon with his bloodstained hair and skin, his wife shone in the moonlight like an angel. She stood behind her husband and looked at Antoine with imploring eyes.

“Remember your family Antoine, all that we are offering you for them. Sign the contract before you lose everything, please.”

And so; with a little bit of reluctance and shame, Antoine signed away his claim and handed his brother’s head on a silver plate to the man who was threatening to destroy everything he held dear. At least his daughter will be the Queen that she deserved to be.

The next morning found every man at French court in the castle courtyard to witness the execution of the traitor who mounted a coup against his sovereign king and rightful monarch. The Queen Mother; Catherine de Medici stood proudly beside her son Prince Charles as the King read out the traitor’s charges. While her threats against Elizabeth got her out of prison, it did not change Francis’s low opinion of her.

“Louis de Bourbon, Prince of Condé; You are guilty of treason against your King. You are charged with espionage, attempted usurpation and treachery. Furthermore; you are found guilty of being an English spy, of consorting with this nation’s greatest enemy. How do respond to these charges?”

Louis glared at Francis with as much hate as a dead man could muster, his gaze then shifted to stare into the guilty eyes of his brother. Antoine had sold his brother out for a grasp at power just as Mary had smugly told him he would; he felt betrayed by his brother and disappointed that Antoine, being the mastermind behind his crimes would be unpunished while he paid the price.

“I have nothing to say; you’ve made up your mind. I just hope it burns you to know that at one point, your wife chose me over you.”

Francis’s eyes narrowed at his cousin and he motioned for the executioner to tie the noose around Conde’s neck. He could say whatever he wanted; it didn’t matter anymore. Mary watched in equal parts discomfort and satisfaction as the man who was once her lover was hanged for his crimes against her and her family. She wasn’t one to revel in violence but she could admit to breathing a sigh of relief when she heard Conde’s neck snap and saw the light leave his eyes. Let this display be a lesson to those who would think to rise against them. Her eyes met Lord Nicolas’s across the courtyard and she smirked at him, let him spread rumors of her husband’s ill health. It didn’t matter because even when Francis was gone, she would still have power in France and in Scotland, she will respond to any threat with swift and brutal action. Every traitor and enemy would meet the same end as Louis of Conde.

The rest of the day passed in a much happier mood. Tonight was Lola’s wedding to Stephane Narcisse, while it was on short notice, the Lord had spared no expense in making it the most memorable of days. The wedding itself was beautiful and enchanting; the bride and groom were glowing with happiness but all Mary could think about was what Francis had said to Nicolas just before the event.

Tell your Queen that I will fight for Scotland until my last breath.

He assured her that he was still here at her side but the word still brought a lump in her throat at the thought that all his support and protection was temporary. The feelings of despair overwhelmed her and all of her doubts regarding her future in France and her marriage to Charles came to surface. As soon as the wedding ceremony concluded, Mary left the chapel without waiting for the celebrations that followed.

Upstairs in her room, the Queen skimmed through the letter Catherine’s spy had delivered to her from Spain. She knew what she had to do; not just for France and Scotland but for herself. She needed to survive this and the only way how was to leave France for good.

The doors opened and her husband walked into the room with a joyful grin that died when he took in her hunched shoulders and tense features.

“What’s wrong? Why did you leave the celebrations?”

Mary shifted in her seat and faced him.

“I can’t marry Charles.”

“What… Mary? I know that you’re worried about his behavior but he will grow out of it.”

“It’s not that… I can’t marry Charles because I can’t stay in France. Scotland is on the cusp of collapse, you heard Nicolas, Elizabeth will never relent. I can’t rule France and Scotland alone.”

“You won’t be alone; you will have Charles. He has all the same education I do; he will make a good consort in time.”

Francis walked over to her side, his hands cupping her cheeks and wishing more than anything that he could take away her pain.

“He won’t be you Francis, he won’t have your heart.”

“What about the alliance? Jamie’s throne depends on your regency. Scotland is protected because of the alliance.”

Mary shook her head sadly and looked at him with watery eyes.

“It’s not the alliance that protects Scotland, it’s you, your love for me. When you threatened Antoine with war last night, I could tell that you meant it. How can I expect the same of Charles? Of James?”

“James will protect his mother’s nation because it is his duty; until then you will have the powers of the King for years Mary. You could take that time to crush England, I don’t understand why you would doubt this.”

She choked on a sob and buried her head against his torso, his hands gently holding her.

“I’m sorry… you’re right… it would be better to stay.”

“Then why don’t you?”

He couldn’t fathom why she would have second thoughts about something they had agreed to.

“I’ve been trying to convince you that my decision is about Scotland, about politics but the truth is more selfish than that. The mere thought of becoming regent fills me with dread… James is not even two years old, which means I would have to stay here for fourteen years. I cannot spend the rest of my life in this castle.”

“Mary this is your home.”

“No… you are my home… and once you’re gone. I can’t live in these walls without you… to have a life here… I will go mad with grief; I will lose my mind. Francis I can’t stay here, please don’t make me stay.”

He knelt beside her chair to hold her better, to try and wipe away her tears. His heart ached and he felt his own eyes moisten at her pain.

“Shh… Mary it will be alright. You don’t have to stay in France if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t?”

“You don’t. You can return to Scotland with the children, we can appoint another regent to rule on Jamie’s behalf until he is old enough to reclaim his throne.”

“Thank you, Francis.”

She felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders, a sense of relief washed over her at the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to remain here to be haunted by his memory. Francis shifted on his knees and it made her realize how long he’s remained in that position, she quickly shifted in her chair to make him sit and took the chance to curl up on his lap. His fingers ended up in her hair, absentmindedly playing with the strands while he was deep in thought.

“We’ll just have to find a suitable candidate for regent.”

“There’s no need, I already have someone in mind.”

“Who?”

Francis asked in curiosity.

“Someone devoted to the Valois line, someone who would go to any lengths for France and for her family.”

“Absolutely not! She’s wanted you dead for months, how can you even consider it?”

“She saw me as a threat to her sons; once she learns of my departure after you’re gone, I won’t be anymore. She loves James very much, you know that. She will do anything to secure his rule.”

“I released her because she risked her life to threaten Elizabeth but handing her the strings of my nation? I’m not sure Mary.”

“You can make her promise to uphold your standard of ruling; you’re her favorite child and dying. You could ask her anything and she’d grant it.”

Francis pursed his lips in displeasure but he knew that his wife was right. If Mary wasn’t an option, Catherine was the next best candidate for regent. She had some very unsavory morals but her experience as Queen was nothing to dismiss. Perhaps with a bit of convincing, he could make her see things his way. It was only until James was old enough to rule.

“If Mother is regent, she may not choose to help Scotland against England. What will you do if France cannot protect you?”

It was then that his wife reached for the paper that she was reading from when he entered the room. It was intelligence from Spain; King Philip’s only son and heir, Prince Don Carlos was searching for a wife.

“A marriage alliance with Spain would be ideal, they have the largest navy in the world. If you choose to settle there, your friendship with Leeza will protect you and the boys.”

Francis tried to swallow the lump in his throat and his voice turned hoarse. When Mary was to wed Charles and remain in France, he could rest easy with the knowledge that she would be in their home. Spain was so far away and a large and selfish part of him feared that if she didn’t feel his presence in the walls of this castle, she would forget about him. He wanted his memory to haunt her because he knew without a doubt that if she were the one to die, he would see her ghost in everything.

“I hate this. Planning for a future, a life without you it kills me. I never want to leave you.”

“I know my love; I don’t want to leave you either but fate has other plans. No matter how hard we try, we can’t fight destiny.”   

Mary looked into his crystal eyes and tried to memorize the feeling of his presence, so that she may carry him with her forever. She pressed her lips against his, pulling him in a desperate kiss that communicated all her love and her fears.

“I will love you for the rest of my life. No matter how much time passes, no matter who I marry, I will be yours. And when death finally takes me, I will look for you in the afterlife.”

“I will be waiting for you, however long it takes; which I hope is a very long time. I expect you to live your life to the fullest, I will want to hear all about it when I see you again.”

Francis closed his eyes and gathered her tighter into his arms, savoring every little moment he could with her. Whatever time he had left; he wanted to spend it with her, his children and his siblings. He needed to make his last days count, so that when death took him away, he would have no regrets.

Chapter Text

The rest of the week following Antoine’s visit passed without much change. The King’s health was still declining and thanks to Nicolas’s spying, everyone at court was aware. Many noblemen had arrived to seek the King’s favor before it was too late, Prince James had never gotten as many gifts as he did in the past few days; bribes to gain the support of the next King and the Queen Mother. No one knew yet that Mary would take her children and leave France after her mourning period ended and Catherine’s regency was secured. The assumption that she would rule for her son made every lady and lord at court eager to please her.

Today was a bit different; Mary had contacted a healer from Austria who practiced unconventional medicine and his herbal treatment seemed to make her husband feel much better. His newfound energy prompted him to complete a task he had been hounding her for months. That was what found her in the boat Francis built, trying to learn the complicated art of sailing without letting them drown in the lake.

“I think that lesson went well; I’m becoming quite the sailor under your tutelage.”

Mary leaned into her husband’s side as they walked over to the shore where they planned on breaking their fast with their children. The nannies were looking after the four boys while their parents spent time on their sailing lesson. With Lola off on her wedding tour with Narcisse, Mary had taken the responsibility of caring for Jean in her absence. The child loved to play with his half-brothers and was fascinated with William, he understood that the baby’s presence meant that he was no longer the youngest.

“You almost capsized the boat twice.”

“It wasn’t twice! Besides I’m still learning.”

Francis grinned at the pout on her lips and leaned forward to kiss it away.

“I know love, I’m just teasing. You did wonderfully for your first try.”

Mary beamed at his praise.

“At least I’m a good swimmer, I wouldn’t have let you drown.”

 “Small mercies huh?”

His quip was rewarded by a playful push on his shoulder.

“You’re cheeky today. I know of the perfect way to deal with you now.”

“And what is my punishment, your grace?”

Mary smirked before reaching for the locket around her neck, she had taken to carrying his medicine in it to make it easier to administer each dose.

“It’s time for your herbs.”

Francis’s face contorted in disgust at the pastille between her fingers and he shook his head.

“They’re not herbs; they’re weeds that the horses watered.”

His complaint only made Mary laugh.

“Don’t be a child, you’re worse that Jamie. The physician said that you need one pastille every hour.”

“What will I get in return?”

“I’ll reward you with a kiss.”

“I’d like my reward in advance.”

He cupped her cheeks gently and pulled her into a lingering kiss. When it was time for his medicine, he obediently opened his mouth as promised.

“They do seem to be working, color has returned to your cheeks.”

“Yes, I feel much better. Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“I’d go to any lengths to help you get better, whatever it takes.”

They were soon pulled away from their conversation by their toddlers; who took one look at them and abandoned their nannies to run to their parents on little feet. They spent most of the morning outside with their boys; with Francis finally feeling well enough to play, they engaged in a game of catch with James, Edward and Jean. Their twinkling laughter echoed in the castle grounds for hours before they were interrupted. An urgent dispatch from Marie de Guise put a halt to all the games and forced the King and Queen to return to their duties.

The news was grave as it always was when it came to England and Scotland. It seemed that Nicolas had sent reports to Elizabeth, informing her of Francis’s illness, that could be the only possible reason for a surge against Marie by the so-called peacekeepers sent into Scotland. Francis was determined to prove to the world that France and Scotland would not back down in the face of England’s attacks, if Elizabeth wanted to test them then she would get the fight she so desired.

“Gather my military council and call Prince Charles.”

They will not bow to the English, not here in France and certainly not in Scotland.

The next morning found Francis and his brothers in the training yard; while his wife and her lady watched from the sidelines. Charles and Henri were having a mock spar while Francis observed them with care. Since Catherine’s return to court, Henri was becoming more and more interested in participating in activities with his brothers. The eleven-year-old boy was closer to his mother than anyone and her absence made him disappear into his shell. He never openly blamed his older brother but he was old enough to understand that only Francis had the authority to banish Catherine, which is why he would actively avoid spending time with him.

Charles defeated his little brother and turned to Francis with a smug smile at his victory while Henri frowned at his sword on the floor. Francis nodded at Charles with approval before turning to his youngest brother.

“Don’t be disappointed Henri, your brother is older than you and has spent more time training.”

Francis’s eyes met Mary’s across the yard, she was beaming at him and talking animatedly with Greer, he was certain that he was the topic of conversation judging from their pointed looks. His attention returned to his brothers and he unsheathed his sword.

“Pick up your sword Charles, you’re not done yet. Henri, watch carefully at how I handle my sword.”

Charles’s patience was wearing thin and every time his brother evaded or deflected his attacks with a grin made him even more angry.

“Why won’t you attack me?”

“Fighting is about more than brute strength Charles; you must conserve your energy and plan tactics that ensure a victory.”

While Charles scoffed at his advice, Henri watched the exchange sharply as not to miss a single movement.

“Why do I need to learn how to fight?”

“Knowing how to defend one self is an essential skill, more than that there may come a time when you’d have to pick up a sword and if that happens, it’s better to be prepared.”

He punctuated his point with a well-aimed blow to Charles’s sword, disarming him with a flick of the wrist. Mary and Greer watched the scene with matching grins, the Queen feeling lighter than ever to see her husband so active after such a long time. Francis motioned for Henri to come closer so he could help him practice his grip and his swing when Catherine de Medici strutted into the training yard.

“Honestly Francis, why did you release me if you weren’t going to ask me for advice before making a move against England?”

Mary walked over to join her husband as he faced his mother.

“What do you want now Mother?”

“We have received news that the English navy has sunk our warships; every soldier you sent is dead. If only you’d asked me, I would’ve told you that Elizabeth now has faster ships called Frigates.”

Mary narrowed her eyes at her mother-in-law’s superiority.

“Information you learned consorting with the enemy.”

“Would you have really cared where the intelligence came from as long as it saved your mother?”

Charles was listening in on the conversation with a somber frown.

“Thank you for your advice, Mother but I didn’t free you to criticize me. You need to spend more energy on securing the council votes for your regency. If you prove incapable of cementing my son’s rule then I will find someone who can.”

“I have it all in hand; trust me that when the Privy Council votes, I will have a comfortable majority.”

“See to it that you do.”

Catherine took the dismissal with grace, leaving her children to their activities.

“I’m sorry Francis, I’m the one who suggested we send the galleons and now so many lives are lost.”

Charles felt terribly guilty that his suggestion cost such a steep price.

“It’s alright Charles, even kings make mistakes. This wasn’t a mistake; it was a show of courage and strength.”

“Do you mean to send more ships?”

Mary cut in before her husband could answer his brother’s question.

“No, we don’t need to. I have a better idea.”

Mary was seated at her desk, writing a letter to her mother in their secret code. She had summoned the English Ambassador to discuss a peaceful solution to the surge of English soldiers in Scotland. Nicolas strode into the room with confident steps and a smug grin on his lips; clearly, he believed that he would have the upper hand in this meeting.

“We have captured two of your senior generals in Scotland; I have written a letter to your Queen. We are willing to trade their freedom in exchange for your surrender at the Glen Appen Pass.”

Nicolas didn’t bother reaching out to accept the missive, instead his hands were folded behind his back, his irritating smirk never leaving.

“You want us to allow your mother to open her supply route for her armies? No thank you.”

Mary leaned back in her chair and craned her neck to fix him with the most withering glare.

“I am trying to come up with a diplomatic solution, a chance for peace between our nations. Why aren’t you interested?”

“Those are not my orders.”

Her eyes narrowed at his glib answer.

“And what exactly are your orders?”

“To wait; wait until your mother’s allies are gone, until your French forces can no longer fight, wait for…”

“For Francis to die.”

She finished his sentence with a stricken whisper. Her blood boiled at Elizabeth’s brutal strategy, to lie in wait for her husband to pass and pounce at her when she’s at her weakest. Mary leapt from her seat in a fit of rage and stepped closer to Nicolas before spitting out her ire.

“In that case; I hope you’re comfortable circling for a long time, disgusting vulture.”

Instead of replying, Nicolas merely smiled in the face of her indignation.

“And you may think that I will be alone after my passes but you could not be more wrong. The next King is my son; James is Godson to Philip of Spain. If you think Scotland will be rendered defenseless than you have another thing coming.”

Nicolas laughed, amused at her threats like she was a harmless insect.

“Ah yes! The Dauphin; I am quaking in my boots in fear of your toddler. My Queen will handle your son and Spain when the time comes.”

“Get out!”

Nicolas cocked his head but made no attempt to move at Mary’s words. Not willing to play his twisted game any longer, she side stepped him to storm out of the room. As she reached the door, she paused to turn around to snarl at him one last time.

“Elizabeth can threaten and bully me however she likes but I will always have something that se doesn’t; male heirs to inherit my throne and hers.”

The second she was out the door; Nicolas bent over her vacated desk to make a copy of her cypher and steal the letter she wrote to Marie de Guise.

“Get him out!”

While Mary carried out her plan to trick Nicolas into stealing false intelligence for Elizabeth; Francis took the opportunity to take his younger brother on a horse ride through the woods. He could tell that Charles was still feeling bad that his idea to send warships to Scotland failed so quickly. He wanted to ease his guilt, he was only a child and his premature death was forcing him to shoulder burdens Francis never had to at such an age.

“Mary’s strategy gained us a victory; I never knew that war could be fought without weapons.”

Francis beamed in pride at the mention of his wife’s brilliant plan, that’s what Nicolas deserved for underestimating the Queen of Scots.

“Mary is a genius; she has a great mind for diplomacy. Many times, her quick thinking proved beneficial for us. She’s invaluable to France.”

“I like watching the two of you.”

Francis smiled at his brother’s bashful confession.

“How so?”

“You love her and respect her, when she speaks you listen. None of us liked when Father would dismiss Mother’s council because he didn’t deem it valuable enough.”

Charles was not as young as his siblings perceive him to be, he always noticed how Henry treated Catherine. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he had parents like Francis and Mary; who loved each other just as much as they loved their children. His nephews were lucky to have such fantastic parents; he prayed to God every day that his brother lived to see his children grow up.

“Father was a complicated man but I learned how not to treat women from him. When there comes a day when you finally wed, cherish your bride and honor your vows to her so she may do the same for you.”

The two brothers spent more time riding side by side through the trees, the elder of the two sharing his experiences with ruling; the lessons he learned, the mistakes he made and how he fixed his errors. While Charles was content to listen to his brother, he couldn’t help but wonder what prompted him to teach him how to rule.

“Francis?”

He interrupted the account of strange negotiations with a Duke of Germany.

“Yes?”

“Not that I mind the advice but why are you giving it to me? I will never be King; shouldn’t this wisdom pass to your heir?”

Charles immediately regretted his question when he saw his brother’s face fall.

“My heir is too young to understand that he is to be King in a matter of days.”

“Don’t talk like that!”

“How else should I talk? It pains me to know that I will never have these conversations with my son. That I will never get to see them grow up, never teach them everything I wish Father had taught me, things he used to teach Bash. I wanted to be the father he was to Bash; I never wanted my sons to wonder whether I loved them.”

A tear slipped past his cheek and Charles saw it before Francis could wipe it away.

“They will know how much their father loved them; I promise you.”

“This is why I’ve been sharing so many of my experiences with you; so that when James needs my advice, you can tell him exactly what I am telling you. Mary and my children will leave for Scotland soon enough, but I don’t want them to forget that they have family in France, a home that they can always return to.”

“Mary and my nephews are Valois, just like me and you. You taught us all the importance of being united, trust that we won’t disappoint you, Francis.”

Francis shook his head to dispel the dark thoughts in his mind, forcing a grin onto his face he motioned his horse to move faster.

“That’s enough talk, I remember you saying something about being a better rider than me. Care to prove it little brother?”

Francis’s horse picked up the pace and he laughed into the wind at Charles’s indignant cries of foul play. The prince galloped after his brother to catch up to him but he didn’t have to make an effort. Merely a meter away from him, the King’s horse slowed down until he stopped. Charles frowned and called out to his brother but he didn’t respond, an instant later Francis’s body hit the forest floor with an audible thud. Charles hopped off his stead and leapt to where his brother lay, his body was shaking and his ear was bleeding heavily. With as much energy as his young body could muster, Charles heaved the unconscious form of his brother on his horse to take them back to the castle.

His sister-in-law was in a meeting when he returned to the castle and instead of creating panic at court, he had one of her ladies send her a message once she was free. He stood watch at Francis’s bedside while Miguel and his team of physicians treated him. Francis gained consciousness quickly but his skin was pale and clammy, a grey tint to his once rosy cheeks; the King resembled a corpse. Francis dismissed the doctors and physicians hovering around his bed despite Charles’s protests.

“Where is Mary? I need my wife.”

He whispered to his little brother. No sooner had Francis asked for her did the Queen stride into the chambers in a rush, her chest heaving with long breaths, indicating that she’d ran here.

“What happened? Where are the physicians?”

Mary frowned at her brother-in-law.

“He sent them away.”

Charles answered with accusation aimed at Francis.

“Charles please… the physicians are powerless now.”

“Powerless? Francis don’t be silly.”

Mary admonished her husband as she sat beside him on the bed.

“It’s alright you two, there’s no point in delaying the inevitable.”

Charles fisted his hands and shook his head stubbornly.

“No… you may have given up on yourself but I won’t stop fighting.”

Without waiting for Francis’s weak protests, he spun around to stomp out of the room. His every step was taken with determination; he would find a way to save his brother, no matter what the price he may have to pay.

Once they were alone in their chambers, Mary turned to her husband with watery eyes, her voice hoarse with the lump in her throat.

“I don’t understand what changed… you were feeling so much better… the new treatment seemed to have been working.”

Francis smiled at her through his pain.

“They say it can happen at the end… one of God’s small mercies.”

“Don’t talk like that please.”

He reached for the hand that was pressed against her chest to soothe the ache in her heart and held it up to his lips for a chaste kiss.

“You’ve done enough for me, my love… you’ve fought so hard for me but now it’s time to let me go.”

“I can’t.”

“You will have to… we don’t have another choice.”

Mary blinked away her tears, there was no point in mourning him while he was still here.

“Should I send for Catherine? The boys?’

“No… I don’t want them to remember their father like this… I just want to spend my last moments like this… in peace with you.”

Francis shifted on the bed to give her more space, opening his arms so that she could lie with him. Mary let herself be held by him, surrounded by his warmth she couldn’t help but think how terribly she would miss the feeling of being in his embrace.

“I love you so much Mary; no matter how little time we had; I thank God for every second of it.”

“I wonder if death will be more painful than this, or if it will be a reprieve.”

Francis laid with his head pressed against his wife’s chest, her fingers combing his hair absentmindedly in a gentle pattern.

“I hope you feel no more pain.”

Mary choked back a sob at the glib way he was talking.

“When will you leave for Scotland?”

“Don’t mention Scotland to me now, I can’t even picture a tomorrow without you.”

“Then don’t… keep me in your future.”

Francis raised his head to meet her molten amber eyes.

“Whisper me our future, tell me about our happy lives.”

“I wanted us to have more children, a big family like the one you grew up with. I wanted to give you a daughter.”

Her lips were pressed against his clammy forehead as she murmured into his skin.

“Our little Princess Anne.”

Francis closed his eyes and images of a beautiful little girl flashed before him, her chestnut curls and amber eyes, her fiery spirit and kind heart.

“Yes Anne; Claude and Leeza were right. You would’ve been wonderful with her; she’d be the apple of your eye.”

“Anne takes after you, she’s fast as lightening and so headstrong. She’s the youngest but she always outruns her brothers.”

Mary’s heart clenched at the faraway look in his eyes, his use of the present tense made her realize that he wasn’t truly with her. It was one of the symptoms of his declining mind and it always terrified her.

“That’s right, Anne always wins. She’s bossy, she makes her brothers follow her everywhere. She never gets in trouble because she always talks you out of punishing her. We both know she’s your favorite but neither of us say it.”

Francis chuckled.

“She reminds me of your childhood self.”

“She shows off for you, Anne always wants your praise.”

“She always has it.”

Mary could feel him drifting away and tightened her hold on him.

“After dinner, once you’ve played your usual game of catch with Anne; William is going to need your attention with his reading. He is not as good as the twins and it bothers him.”

Francis hummed an agreement at his wife’s request.

“I will have him work on it.”

His voice was trembling with the effort it took to simply whisper.

“Do you promise? Promise me you’ll try harder… these few years of marriage aren’t enough… I need more time Francis, please.”

He shifted in her embrace, the life slowly leaching out of him before her eyes and she could do nothing but beg; to him, to God, to anyone who listened for mercy.

“Fight Francis… fight harder; you cannot give up yet. Please love, do it for me, for our children; they need you.”

“It’s such a beautiful dream…”

He croaked, his teary eyes glazed over and his jaw went slack. Francis’s body became heavy in her arms and she violently shook him to get him to respond but he wasn’t moving, he wasn’t breathing anymore.

“No no no! Don’t you dare leave me, not yet! Come back Francis.”

Her hands pushed at his chest to force his heart to beat but it was no use. Mary heard the doors to their chambers open with urgency and she jumped off the bed to face the newcomers; her eyes met those of Sebastian and Charles, tears rapidly streaming down her face. The two men took in the scene in the room and the devastation on their sister-in-law’s face; there could only be one reason for her grief.

“He’s gone!”

Hearing her painful cry made Charles jump in action, he rushed to Mary and gestured towards the woman accompanying them. She was dressed in filthy rags and her hair a mess but Charles knew that she was the only one who could help them now.

“This is Delphine; she is a healer and I brought her for Francis.”

Mary narrowed her eyes at her and looked to Bash for confirmation.

“Charles your brother is dead, what use is a healer?”

“She can perform miracles, Bash tell her.”

Bash hesitated before answering.

“She saved me from death, she can do it.”

Mary rushed over to the woman and reached for her hands.

“Is it true? Can you bring my husband back?”

Delphine was nervous; she never thought her Queen would be looking to her as if she was a beacon of hope.

“I can try; but there may be a terrible price to pay.”

Mary’s eyebrows knotted in confusion.

“What kind of price?”

“No price is high enough! He is your husband, our brother, the King of France. Why are you all hesitating?”

Charles cut in with a cry of frustration, Bash was especially reluctant and Charles hated him for it.

“What’s the cost of a King’s life to you Charles? Your life? Will you give your life Mary?”

Bash had wanted to scare them she was sure, the way Charles recoiled at the prospect of sacrificing his life was clear but he underestimated the lengths that she would go to for the man she loved.

“If the price is my life for his, I will gladly give it. Just bring him back.”

She nudged Delphine in the direction of the bed with urgency and watched with bated breath as she moved to sit beside her husband’s body.

“Everyone please step away.”

They obeyed Delphine without complaint, Mary never took her eye off the woman as she pressed her hands to Francis’s chest. Charles placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her but his own body was shaking like hers. Bash knew that it was a huge risk but he couldn’t override Mary or Charles; it was not that he didn’t want his brother back, he just didn’t want the price for his life to be too high.

Delphine stepped away from the King having completed her task but there was no change in his condition. Mary moved towards the bed; every second his eyes didn’t open tore at her heart. What if it didn’t work? What if this was the end? What if Francis was never coming back?

Suddenly; the most beautiful sound echoed through the room, Francis’s body jerked as his chest took in a lungful of air, the sound of his loud breath clearly heard by every occupant. Delphine swayed on her feet with the exertion and Bash rushed to catch her but Mary only had eyes for her husband. She swiftly made her way to his side, her hands reaching for his face as he opened his eyes in shock.

Mary smiled through her tears, relief flooding her at the turn of events, the miracle that happened before her eyes. Her forehead dropped down to his and she whispered against his warm lips.

“You came back to me.”

Chapter Text

The next few mornings after her husband’s miraculous recovery found the Queen of France kneeling before the altar in the Castle’s Chapel. Her prayers were of gratitude and forgiveness. Just last night, James Stuart had informed her that her mother Marie de Guise had passed away in the night by a dispatch dated for the same day that Delphine brought Francis back to life. Mary couldn’t help but think that it was her mother’s life that was the price for her husband’s. Mary never had a good relationship with Marie, she was never the kind of mother Mary was to her children, or the one Catherine was to hers. Marie de Guise was cold and ambitious; her love and affection came secondary to her position as Queen Mother and regent. That didn’t change the fact that Mary was affected by her mother’s passing.

The door to the chapel opened with a creak, it was followed by giggles and the pitter patter of tiny feet. Mary’s eyes were closed in prayer but a smile bloomed on her lips when she heard them.

“Quiet boys, Mama is praying.”

Francis shushed their sons with an amused whisper. Mary stood up from her spot on the floor and turned around to face her family. Jamie and Eddie ran into her open arms and she scooped the two boys up; Francis was holding William but he weakly scolded them for jumping on their mother.

“Oh! hush Francis, let me hold my boys.”

He rolled his eyes at the triumphant grins on his sons’ faces and walked over to give his wife a chaste kiss.

“You’ve spent the whole morning in here.”

“I have much to thank God for, every time you walk into a room you fill my heart with such joy. How do you feel?”

Doctor Miguel and his team had their final appointment with the King at dawn today, they were to depart for Spain this very evening.

“I feel new; Miguel has cleared me of all infection. He hasn’t found a single trace of illness in my system; I am cured Mary.”

There was something in his expression that made her pause, she knelt down to let her squirming toddlers go and chase each other around the room and placed her free hands on her husband’s cheeks.

“Then what’s bothering you?”

“I feel like I owe my life to Marie de Guise, like you lost your mother because of me.”

Mary frowned and shook her head.

“Don’t be ridiculous; we have no way of knowing if Mother’s life was the price Delphine spoke of. She had a tumor and was very ill, her death could simply be a coincidence. I know it’s terrible to say but even if it were true, I’d rather have you than her.”

Francis gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

“I will never begrudge you for your thoughts and feelings. Although, Marie’s death leaves a power vacuum in your government, we’ll need to… Edward Alexander get down this instant!”

 Mary turned around at her husband’s sudden change in tone and saw her sons’ mischievous actions. Edward was sitting on the marble altar while James was still in the process of climbing it. She rushed to catch them before they fell while her husband averted his attention to William; he’d been sleeping peacefully in his father’s arms when the loud voice woke him and he started fussing.

“James don’t even think about joining your brother.”

Mary scooped up Edward and held out her hand to James.

“Mama! It’s fun.”

The little Dauphine whined while his twin was still giggling at his adventure.

“No baby, it’s not fun it’s dangerous, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

The boys had their arms crossed and were pouting at their mother but their expression quickly changed when they saw the stern expression of their father as he knelt down to speak to them, their baby brother staring at them with twinkling blue eyes.

“I know you boys love to explore the castle but you cannot have adventures without a grown up watching over you. We love you and it would make Mama and Papa really sad if either of you were hurt.”

Eddie and Jamie looked to the floor in dismay, they didn’t want Mama and Papa to be sad.

“We’re sorry Papa.”

James chimed in after his brother’s apology with one of his own.

“Yes, very sorry Mama and Papa.”

Mary exchanged a grin with her husband and kissed both of her boys on their chubby cheeks. Not wanting to be forgotten, baby William cooed in his Papa’s arms, making all of them laugh.

“We should probably join the family in the dining hall for breakfast now.”

Mary mentioned to her husband, it was clear from the restlessness of the twins that they had spent too much time in the chapel.

“What are your plans for after breakfast?”

Francis asked his wife as they walked out into the hallway.

“Lola has invited Greer and I to her new chambers for tea. What about you?”

Lola Narcisse had just returned from her wedding tour and now that she was settled into her new quarters at the castle, she wanted to share stories of her tour with her friends.

“Bash and I promised Charles and Henri that we would take them riding. We’ll be gone for a while.”

“So, we may not see each other for hours.”

Francis smiled at the pout on her lips at the prospect of being apart. These past few weeks, Mary hadn’t left his side for fear that any moment could be their last. Now that things were returning to normal, they would have to get used to going hours without one another’s company.

“Will you miss me, darling?”

She blushed at his teasing and sent him a mock glare.

“Is it a crime for a wife to miss her husband?”

“Not at all, how about this? We’ll meet at the lake for a late lunch, after that I can give you another sailing lesson.”

“That sounds perfect, my love.”

The new Lady Narcisse was radiant in her maroon gown, her voluminous curls falling freely down her back as she laughed in delight at the story her friend Greer was sharing about her work. Mary observed her friend’s happy glow in satisfaction; while she was one of the many who opposed her union to Stephane Narcisse, one had to admit that the man took care of his wife. If he kept Lola smiling like that, he would gain the favor of the Queen and King very quickly.

“Enough about me and my ladies; tell us about your romantic week away in the country.”

Greer propped her chin on her palm and regarded Lola with a mischievous glint in her eyes that made the newlywed blush.

“I’ve heard through the gossip at court that Lord Narcisse is a very talented lover.”

Mary interjected and watched in amusement as Lola’s entire face went crimson.

“Come on Lola, we’re all married women here.”

Greer didn’t mention that technically neither one of them was a maiden on their wedding night, in fact their Queen was with child months before she wed her husband.

“It was very romantic of course; Stephane took us to his estate in the country.”

“Oh, it must’ve been so beautiful! France has the best Springs.”   

Mary gushed, if the grounds of the Chateau were so lovely, she could imagine how breathtaking the French countryside must be.

“I must confess; we didn’t spend much time outside; Stephane was very eager to keep us in the bedchambers.”

 Mary and Greer giggled at the way Lola hid her face behind her palms.

“An entire week in bed? Lola, I didn’t think you had it in you, bravo.”

Greer congratulated her friend with a suggestive smirk.

“I’ve never experienced anything like it. Stephane is very experienced and adventurous.”

“He should be with his reputation; I’d be disappointed if he couldn’t please you.”

Mary snorted into her teacup at Greer’s abrasive comment.

“I’ve only ever been with Francis and that was one time. He was sweet but not as passionate as Stephane, no offence Mary.”

The Queen opened her mouth to defend her husband.

“I will have you know Francis and I are very creative.”

Lola giggled at the appalled expression of her friend and shook her head.

“It’s not a bad thing Mary, some people are less adventurous and more traditional.”

“No, she’s right. Our King and Queen are quite bold and they have a thing for the outdoors.”

Mary turned to Greer.

“What do you know?”

“Just that Kenna once caught the two of you going at it in the Throne Room.”

Lola choked on her macaron and Mary hid her face in mortification.

“The Throne Room?”

Lola screeched.

“Oh yes; Francis was on his throne but Mary…”

“Stop I don’t want to know the details!”

Lola interrupted Greer while she grinned like the cat who got the cream.

“It was not our fault Kenna walked in; the guards were supposed to keep everyone out.”

“I pity your guards; truly I do.”

“Shut up Greer.”

Lola was still staring at Mary with newfound admiration; when Stephane had introduced some less than proper intimacies to her, she was nervous about doing something that could be considered taboo. To hear that Mary and Francis enjoyed themselves similarly was a comfort to her.

“But why would you choose the Throne Room? Weren’t you worried someone would catch you?”

Greer smirked suggestively at the Queen but she responded with a self-satisfied smile of her own.

“Let’s just say that there is something irresistible about the King when he is behaving so regally.”

“But still; in public places? I’ll never be able to see that throne without picturing the two of you.”

Lola shuddered at the metal image; she wasn’t sure how she would control herself next time she saw Francis.

“At least we’re not as crazy as Bash and Kenna; they had to replace their bed twice.”

Mary retorted, she really wanted the topic to shift from her and Francis. Greer snorted a laugh while Lola giggled at the reminder of Kenna sheepishly admitting to breaking their bed in the throes of passion.

“That was hilarious!”

“Kenna was always so bold. I miss her.”

Lola’s admission paused their laughter and suddenly there was a silence in the room.

“Every time something interesting happens at court, I want to tell her. Every time I plan an event, I wish Kenna was here, she was brilliant at it. I wish she didn’t have to leave.”

Mary’s lips were in a small smile at the reminder of her spitfire friend.

“Kenna was the one who supported me the most when she learned that I was a Madame.”

“I tried so hard to get them to reconcile but the damage Bash and Kenna did to their marriage… I wish I could’ve done more.”

Lola reached out to hold Mary’s hand.

“We all tried our best to help but sometimes things don’t work out.”

“Where ever she is now, I hope she’s safe and that she’s happy.”

There conversation moved to lighter topics after that, the three women discussing everything and nothing. It was only when Lola was asked about Stephane on their wedding tour once more that she let her anxieties show. Lola bit her lip before meeting her friends’ eyes.

“The truth is that I really want your advice.”

Lola then went on to describe Narcisse’s dealings with the landowners in the countryside during their tour. How he spent the time amassing land and wealth by unsavory means.

“He said that it was to protect me and Jean against Catherine but he preyed on the weak for his own gain.”

Mary and Greer shared a frown, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Mary addressed her friend.

“Lola, you know what Francis and I think of Narcisse; all we saw was the man who ruined the first year of our reign because of his ambition. You made us see a different side to him, you told us you love him.”

“I do love him but I’m not sure if I like the ruthlessness in him.”

“If you love him then you would have to accept every part of him, no matter how terrible. This is why we were trying to warn you, you are married now and it can’t be undone.”

The thought of no longer being married to Stephane touched something deep in her heart and it ached at the mere idea.

“I love him Mary I do; I just wish he’d return to the man he was while we were courting, the better man.”

“Lola, we’re not always the best versions of ourselves. I am not, Francis is not and that’s okay. You know the kind of man your husband is, if he’s really doing it to protect you and Jean then why not allow him to do so?”

Mary knew that Lola was doubting her husband and it was a valid fear, Narcisse was not used to being held accountable for his misdeeds and his new wife had some very strong opinions about morality. He would have to change himself if he wanted Lola’s acceptance.

“If Narcisse’s behavior truly bothers you then talk to him. Don’t let your problems fester.”

Mary nodded at Greer’s advice, no one knew better than her how much miscommunication could cripple a marriage.

“Greer’s right Lola! There is nothing more damaging to a relationship than lack of communication, look at what misunderstandings did to Bash and Kenna, to me and Francis. Don’t let the same thing happen to you, talk to your husband and listen to what he has to say.”

“I will. Thank you for being there for me, for listening to my doubts.”

Mary and Greer stood up from their seats to pull Lola in for a hug; even when she made questionable choices. Lola was still their friend and they would always stand by her.

“I’ll never get the hang of this.”

Mary cried out in frustration, she had no interest in being a sailor but her husband loved it and she wanted to learn for him. Even today, after their sixth lesson she couldn’t tighten the sail without his help.

“It’s alright Mary, we have plenty of time for you to learn. Even if you don’t, it won’t make you any less brilliant in my eyes.”

“I wanted to make you proud.”

Francis’s blue eyes sparkled and he leaned down to kiss her until she smiled against his lips.

“Sailing merely requires focus and I can tell that you’re distracted. Talk to me, what’s on your mind?”

“I received an urgent dispatch from James just before coming here.”

“What did he say? Is this about the regency?”

Francis’s eyebrows knitted together at the troubled look on his wife’s face.

“You were right about the power vacuum in Scotland; my mother’s Protestant enemies are rallying to dethrone me; their leader is a man named John Knox and he is trying to convince James and the Lords of the Congregation to dissolve my throne.”

“Dissolve the monarchy? How is that man allowed to live after such treason?”

“He has many powerful followers who would destroy us if we made him a martyr. What’s even worse is that Elizabeth has taken advantage of the unrest and taken three of our border towns.”

Not only were they facing English invasion, they were also on the brink of civil war. Mary observed her husband’s pursed lips and creased forehead, she knew that his mind was working faster than a horse and she only needed to wait for him to share his solution. Francis was nothing if not whip smart and tactical, he would come up with a good plan.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that we need to call a secret family meeting, immediately.”

An hour later, every adult member of the family was gathered in the Privy Council chambers. Francis and Mary had discretely sent messages to summon them. Catherine sat with Charles while Bash remained standing beside his seat, Claude was sitting across from Lola and Narcisse. When the King and Queen entered, they were met with very impatient and perturbed faces. Mary walked over to the head of the table and took a seat while her husband stood behind her, Francis was so wound up that he couldn’t even comprehend sitting for a moment.

Catherine was the one to break the silence and ask what was on everyone’s mind.

“What’s with all the secrecy Francis? Why have you called a meeting so urgently?”

“We’re sorry for disturbing you all.”

Claude shook her head.

“It’s not about disturbance, it’s about the fact that the last time we had a family meeting you told us you were dying.”

Charles turned to his brother in fear.

“Are you dying Francis?”

“No one is dying!”

Mary cut in before panic broke out in the room.

“This meeting is about Scotland.”

Catherine scoffed and rolled her eyes at the mention of that particular burden, Scotland and England were slowly becoming more trouble than they were worth.

“There is civil unrest in Scotland as a result of Marie de Guise’s passing. Mary and I have come to the conclusion that there is only one way to deal with the problems there.”

Francis addressed his family.

“Don’t keep us in suspense, your grace. Tell us your brilliant plan.”

Narcisse’s snarky drawl was met with a glare from his wife.

“Mary and I are leaving for Scotland.”

“What?”

“No!”

“Don’t be foolish Francis.”

The King’s announcement was met with loud disapprovals from his mother, sister and little brother. Lola on the other hand, was glad that they had finally decided to turn their attention to her home country.

“Enough! My decision is final.”

“So, what’s the plan then?”

Sebastian, who was silently observing the exchange, chimed in.

“We will leave in secret at dawn; I don’t trust anyone outside this room, as far as the court is concerned Francis and I are on our way to Paris. No one must know that we have left the country until we are on Scottish soil.”

Francis nodded along with his wife.

“Our journey has been long overdue; Elizabeth is always stirring trouble easily because she has a geographical advantage. Our arrival in Scotland will make her nervous, less likely to attack so boldly. She tried to take advantage of my impending death; I want her to feel our presence choking her.”

Mary grinned at the protective rage in his voice; her cousin was going to regret messing with them.

“What about France? Who will rule while you’re gone? How long do you plan on staying in Scotland?”

Catherine’s questioning made the King and Queen exchange an amused glance; the Queen Mother was so very transparent.

“I made arrangements for France in the event of my death. Those steps will sustain France in our absence for at least a year; as far as a regent is concerned, wasn’t that your duty Mother?”

Francis raised an eyebrow at his mother and chuckled when he saw her attempting to keep her satisfaction from showing on her face.

“Catherine will be regent in our absence and rule in our name, but she will be needing help…”

Mary then turned to Lord Narcisse.

“Francis and I debated this decision but we came to the conclusion that your expertise is too valuable for us to dismiss. You will work with Catherine to govern France.”

Stephane opened his mouth but he was speechless at such a show of trust.

“Govern France? As what?”

“As my Lord Chancellor.”

Francis answered.

“No one can deny that you are an excellent statesman, I need you to use that skill to help my mother. The two of you are responsible for this country while I’m gone.”

Catherine and Narcisse shared a smirk at the opportunity to hold such power once again. Mary caught the exchange with narrowed eyes.

“There is a catch though; you may be regent but every important decision will be made by Francis directly. Do not presume to think that you can do anything here without our knowledge or against our wishes.”

“I am trusting you both with my nation, do not let me down.”

Francis added to his wife’s warning. Mary then turned to Claude.

“Princess, I need you to take over my household duties while I am gone.”

“Sure, I’ll handle it.”

Francis then addressed his half-brother.

“As my Deputy, Bash, I need you by my side in Scotland. I hope you don’t mind accompanying us.”

“I’d follow you anywhere brother, you know that.”

The King clapped his hands at his brother’s agreement.

“Wonderful! Now that we are in agreement; Narcisse of you could discretely ready the Flagship for tomorrow morning.”

“Consider it done.”

“I’ve also mobilized my Queens Guard to accompany us; we’ll be sailing into a possible civil war. We need all the protection we could get.”

Francis hummed in agreement with his wife.

“You’re right; we can’t trust Elizabeth not to stage an assassination. Bash you should pick a few of your best men to add to Mary’s forces.”

“Alright but I will not be able to train new ones, who will take over my duties here?”

“What about Leith?”

Claude chimed in at Bash’s musing, her eagerness to volunteer her bodyguard made Catherine narrow her eyes at her daughter.

“It’s a good suggestion Claude, Leith saved my life and he’s been loyal ever since. You should consider him Bash.”

With the logistics of their travel plans left to discuss, Claude and Lola retired for the night while Bash and Narcisse stayed to prepare the departure of the royal family. They decided that a decoy carriage will be sent to Paris to sell the story of a mere romantic retreat. Since they were all going, there would be a need for nannies to attend to the princes on the journey. It was an hour before the plans were made and Francis and Mary were left alone to prepare for their travels.

“It’s finally happening… are you excited?”

Francis asked his wife and her face turned thoughtful.

“I was a child when I came here; I barely remember Scotland. It’s a romanticized picture in my mind, I wonder how we’ll be received. My people don’t know me as anything but a symbol.”

Her husband held out his arms in a welcoming gesture and Mary walked into his embrace, her body sagging in his hold.

“That is why this journey is so important; you helped me cement my rule in France, now it’s my turn to return the favor. I will help you win your people over so that they can never fathom the idea of turning on you, once they see the Queen you are, they’ll love you.”

“You promise?”

Francis affectionately caressed her cheek.

“I promise.”

Mary inhaled deeply, surrounded by his scent she couldn’t feel anything but contentment and safety.

“I was so afraid to return to Scotland when you were ill, I didn’t know what I would face but now… I can’t wait to show you my country. You will love it Francis… oh the boys will have so much fun at Holyrood Palace!”

“If Scotland is anything like its Queen, I am sure I will instantly fall in love with it.”

His soft reply earned him a searing kiss from his wife that left him breathless.

“What was that for?”

“For taking me to Scotland.”

Mary’s heart was bursting with joy and anticipation. It was finally happening; she was finally going home.

Chapter Text

Chateau de Fontainebleau, France

Catherine de Medici, Queen Mother and as of two days ago; Queen Regent of France couldn’t stop smiling. She was floating on air and having the time of her life strutting about the castle in her finest wine-colored gown, having men who once looked at her with thinly veiled disdain being forced to bow and scrape before her to get their problems heard. The time when she wasn’t busy attending to her duties was spent reconciling with her children and taunting her former lover and his child bride. The mother of her bastard grandson was a boring and self-righteous girl who would never satisfy Stephane Narcisse, and she enjoyed making the girl remember that every time they crossed paths. Lola must hate that her husband worked so closely with the Queen Mother.

Catherine strode into the Thorne Room with a smirk playing on her lips, her every movement proud and sensual. She ignored the men greeting her and headed straight for her son’s throne, she loved sitting in the most powerful seat in the country and it had never happened before. She crossed her legs and lounged in her seat, facing the nobles so they may begin the court session.

After a tedious afternoon of listening to nobles and peasants alike air out their grievances, Catherine was finally left to admire herself on her throne in peace. The peace which was quickly shattered when the English Ambassador entered the room, his arrogance combatting that of the Queen Regent.

“Good afternoon, Lord Nicolas.”

Instead of answering the greeting, he fixed her with an unimpressed glare.

“Where is King Francis? Or Queen Mary?”

“Haven’t you heard? The King and Queen are on a romantic getaway in Paris.”

Nicolas’s mouth twisted in displeasure.

“Do not lie to me! I know for a fact that the King and Queen are not in Paris.”

Catherine cocked her head, a predatory grin upon her lips.

“Careful Ambassador; you were just about to confess to spying on my son. Do you know what happened to the last English spy? Would you like to ask him what King Francis did to him? Oh but wait… he can’t talk; seeing as his head is no longer attached to his body.”

“I am a foreign diplomat. You cannot threaten me, it is an act of war.”

“I am Catherine de Medici; do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

Nicolas felt his nostrils flare in frustration at the aggravating woman.

“Just tell me where the King is. He cannot be in the castle or you wouldn’t be bold enough to sit his throne.”

Catherine’s eyebrow raised and her eye twitched.

“My son has left me to rule in his absence. Anything you wish to discuss with him will have to go through me.”

Nicolas’s eyes widened in realization.

“He’s not in France, is he? Otherwise he would have never left you as regent. Where have they gone?”

Catherine smirked at the man.

“Why don’t you guess Ambassador? I’ll give you a hint, your Queen won’t like where they are.”

“They’re in Scotland… aren’t they?”

“There’s no point in rushing to inform Elizabeth, they’ve already reached Edinburgh.”

“What a clever game you Valois have played with me.”

Catherine merely rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

“Now that Mary is in Scotland, your presence in France is redundant. Why don’t scurry back to your Queen with your tail between your legs?”

Nicolas’s face was red with indignation but he couldn’t say anything that would make up for the fact that the woman that he was sent to spy on slipped under his nose and was gone for days before he learned of her whereabouts; Elizabeth was going to have his head.

Somewhere Near Leith Port, North Sea.

The chilly sea breeze paired with the blazing May sun made it the perfect weather for enjoying oneself on the deck of the French Flagship. They’d been at sea for more than twenty-four hours; while the journey across the English Channel didn’t take much time, Scotland was a different matter entirely; in order to evade the English navy, their Galleon had to sail the longer route through the North Sea. Mary Stuart stood at the helm of the deck to take in the vast sea before her, she knew it was only a matter of time before they docked in Edinburgh’s port city of Leith and she wanted to watch her home in the horizon. The area was protected by the French blockade so their ship would face no security risks while docking.

The Queen was so lost in her sightseeing that she almost jumped when she felt herself being pulled into an embrace from behind, her back flush against her husband’s chest. Francis chuckled at the way she squeaked in surprise and his chin came to rest atop her head.

“The captain says we’ll be arriving in less than an hour. We should start seeing land soon enough.”   

“I can barely stand still; I am so excited. I haven’t been home in years; I wonder if the palace still looks the same.”

Holyrood Palace was not as grand as the Scottish Court at Edinburgh Castle but the private residence of Scotland’s monarchs was just as impressive. While Mary was born at Linlithgow, she spent the first six years of her life at Holyrood. The halls and corridors were the ones in which she learned to walk and run. Now her sons will play in her childhood home, William Francis would learn how to walk in the same place as his mother.

“Has James replied to your coded dispatch?”

Mary turned around in her husband’s arms to meet his eyes, their color reflecting the sea and the sky making the most dazzling shade of blue.

“A boat arrived from Edinburgh carrying his response this morning. A guarded carriage will receive us in Leith, it will take us to Holyroodhouse where James will be waiting for our arrival. We will have a few hours to rest, have a debriefing session with James and get ready for the Banquet at Edinburgh Castle tonight.” 

Francis hummed in agreement as his wife laid out the day’s plan, already he felt tired at the packed schedule.

“Quite the lengthy itinerary your brother has handed us. Must we face your Court today?”

“Francis! This first appearance is very important, especially for you. My people have mixed feelings about the French and you know how tenacious the peace between the Scottish Lords and my mother was; you must win them over.”

The teasing glint in her husband’s eyes vanished at her words.

“Don’t worry yourself, I understand the severity of the situation and I don’t plan on doing anything to jeopardize my first impression. I will win your people’s loyalty Mary and I will protect you from any threat. No one, especially not John Knox is going to undermine your sovereignty and get away with it.”

Mary stood on her tiptoes to softly kiss him, a smile blooming on his lips as he deepened the kiss and pulled her closer. The couple stayed at deck for the final leg of their journey; with the princes sleeping soundly under the watchful eye of their nannies, the parents could indulge in each other’s company without interruptions. Lord knows if they’ll have time to simply be together once they reached Scotland and all the troubles that came with it.

Soon enough they could see the outline of land in the distance and Mary hugged her husband in delight, it was only a matter of time before she would set foot on Scottish soil after thirteen long years. Francis felt his eyes water while he took in his wife’s beaming face and bright cheeks; for so long he held the fear that he wouldn’t live to see his beloved Queen return to her nation and take back her country. Now that her destiny in Scotland was here, he couldn’t help but be eternally grateful that he could witness it and stand beside her as she fought for what was rightfully hers.

The carriage ride from Leith to Holyrood Palace took less than an hour but for a restless Mary, it felt like forever. While Mary and her children were travelling in the royal carriage, her husband, her brother-in-law and their men opted for horses instead. Not only did it showcase Francis as a capable rider before the Scottish guards sent by James, it also gave the men time to coordinate their duties for the day.

James Stuart; First Earl of Moray stood at the gates of Holyrood Palace with his hands clasped behind his back and watched as the Royal Carriage and the fifty men accompanying the Queen and King of Scotland arrived in the path to their home. The carriage came to a stop at the gates and before James could make any moves; a white horse blocked his path. King Francis II, his sister’s French bastard of a husband dismounted from his horse to open the carriage door for his wife. Queen Mary accepted her husband’s hand and stepped out of the carriage with a beaming smile on her face; her eyes landed on her brother and without wasting a single moment she rushed to greet him.

James let out a short laugh when his sister knocked the breath out of him with her crushing embrace, in the distance he could see that his eldest nephews had exited the carriage and were being contained by their nannies.

“Oh James! It’s been so long; you look very dashing; power suits you.”

 Mary remarked with a mischievous twinkle in her brown eyes; the eyes that she shared with their father, King James V of Scotland.

“Thank you for trusting me with the regency following Marie’s death.”

“You are my brother James, even if we do share different mothers, I trust you with my life.”

James felt his cheeks hurt at being reunited with his only family, his bright green eyes were shining in delight but his smile died in an instant when they were approached by his brother-in-law.

“King Francis.”

James acknowledged the blonde man with a simple nod, he extended his hand for James to shake and he only accepted because he felt his sister’s eyes silently urging him.

“Lord James, thank you for your hospitality and all the help you’ve given us.”

Mary watched with bated breath and prayed that neither man would create a scene in front of so many people.

“It is my honor to serve my King and my Queen.”

The insincerity in James’s eyes made Francis clench his teeth but he withheld any comment. Thankfully the tense moment was broken by the twins running to their parents, having finally succeeded in evading their nannies. Mary leapt at the opportunity to change the subject and held out her hands for the boys to take.

“Jamie and Eddie, meet my older brother, your Uncle James.”

Jamie looked up at the tall man who shared his mother’s features with wide eyes while Edward made to hide behind her skirts.

“James…like me Mama.”

The young Dauphin pointed at his uncle and back to his mother with questioning eyes. The Earl of Moray knelt down so he was face to face with his nephew.

“You have a very special name young prince. You and I were both named after my Papa; your grandpapa King James the fifth.”

James gently poked the little boy’s nose to make him giggle, his brother’s smiles emboldened the Duke of Rothsay to step from behind his mother and toddle towards his uncle. Eddi smiled shyly at the unfamiliar man and held out a tiny hand for him to shake like his Papa had done.

“Hello… I am Eddie.”

James rubbed both boys’ hair affectionately before standing up to address his sister.

“Your sons are a delight, Mary.”

“Thank you, brother.”

As a parent, there was no bigger compliment than hearing that her children were wonderful with people. Francis and Mary were blessed with such lovely and well-mannered babies.

“Okay then… now that we’ve gone over the introductions, why don’t I show around your home? We have a very busy day ahead of us.”

James flicked his gaze between his sister’s beaming face and his brother-in-law’s calculated stares. He ushered the party inside the gates, his sister’s family walking behind him as he entered the foyer and was welcomed by the scent of polished wood and burning candles. The palace staff was buzzing with activity for weeks anticipating the homecoming of their Queen and her sons, the furniture was spotless and the King’s chambers-now Queen’s chambers were outfitted by the most comfortable affects that they could find.

James and Mary made their way to the royal quarters while Francis and Bash went to settle their forces in the guest wing of the palace. The French soldiers and Queen’s Guard would remain at Holyroodhouse during their stay as their personal protection. Mary spent the entire time sharing her memories of her childhood home with her twins and reminiscing about the innocent times with her brother.

She was six years old when King Henry VIII went to war with Scotland after her mother, Marie de Guise refused the King’s offer to marry his son and heir Edward to the young queen. That was the last time Mary had stepped foot in her home; she was quickly whisked off to France for her protection and her engagement with the young Dauphin. Ever since; she’s spent years looking over her shoulder for the English threat, from Henry to Mary to Elizabeth; the Tudors never stopped hunting her. Every day she was more and more thankful for her husband’s continued protection, she couldn’t even fathom a future without him by her side.

“Ah here we are! The Queen’s chambers, Lady Lola told us that you preferred to keep the young princes close by so we converted the Consort’s chambers into a larger nursery since it connects to your chambers.”

Mary was shaken out of her walk down memory lane by her brother opening the doors to her chambers with a flourish. Unlike the rest of the palace, the room was not decked out in the Scottish coat of arms or the red and gold royal colors. Instead, the chambers she would share with her husband was cream and ocean blue with gold accents, a prefect mix of comfort and grace.

“My goodness James! This is all gorgeous. How did you manage to arrange this in so little time? I’d only told you days ago.”

Mary turned to her brother with a bright smile but her brows furrowed at the sight of him shifting uncomfortably on his feet.  He had a sheepish grimace on his lips and Mary immediately asked him to spill his secrets.

“The truth is that we had more than a few days’ notice of your arrival.”

“How could you possibly know?”

“Two weeks before Marie passed away, she received a letter from your husband asking us to make arrangements for your arrival in Scotland. We weren’t sure why he seemed so urgent in his message but with the surge of English soldiers, we didn’t have much time to ponder on it. Days later, rumors started spreading of Francis’s fatal illness… now I wasn’t sure if there was any truth to them…”

“There was… they weren’t rumors, Francis was suffering from a terrible infection in his ear and he was dying.”

James blinked in bewilderment at his sister’s teary confession.

“But I just saw him… he looked far from a man dying of illness… he looked very healthy.”  

“It took a miracle James; he was dying, he did die in my arms and I could do nothing. We had made arrangements for after his passing and I was to come here with the boys while Catherine ruled as regent in France.”

“It must’ve been hard for you.”

James could see the lingering pain in her expression from the events of the past few weeks.

“I was losing the man I love; my children were about to be fatherless.”

Mary’s voice cracked with emotion and James pulled her into a comforting hug; just like he did when she was a little girl.

“You really do love him”

“More than anything and no matter what you may think of him; he deserves my love, my respect and my loyalty.”

“He kept you away from your people.”

James’s argument was shot down by a sharp glare.

“Francis has always stood by me; during the most difficult time of my life, he refused to give up on me even when I constantly pushed him away.”

Mary clutched her brother’s shoulder and looked into his eyes.

“He is your King and your brother-in-law; I am urging you to put the past behind you and work together. You are both very important to me and it hurts me to see you at odds with one another.”

Mary’s request was met with a scowl.

“I will only be nice to him if he respects my position and stops suspecting me of playing both sides. I am only loyal to you, my queen and if your husband suggests otherwise then I will not hold back.”

“I will talk to him as well. Promise me that you will do your part without protest.”

James’s green eyes brightened and his lips curved up.

“I will do as you ask, little sister.”

Mary squeezed her brother into another hug and laughed when he pretended to free himself. It truly was good to be home.

Mary stood before the mirror on her new vanity, putting on her gold and ruby earrings with great care. Her eyes flicked to watch the reflection of her husband appearing from behind the dressing screen while putting on his burgundy doublet with gold detailing. His gold crown resting on his equally golden curls, since his coronation Francis has kept his hair shorter to make it easier to manage but after the past few challenging weeks a haircut was the last thing on his mind. As a result; his hair had returned to the tousled and messy curls that they had when she first returned to French court, it made him look softer and younger, even more handsome.

“You look delectable.”

Her husband’s eyes met hers in the reflection of her mirror and his pupils dilated till they were more black than blue, Mary’s cheeks flushed and her skin heated due to the intensity of his gaze. Her golden gown hugged her in all the right places and shimmered like liquid when she moved, a gold cape was clipped at her shoulders with the Scottish coat of arms stitched on it. Her gorgeous dress combined with the beaming smile on her face made her look like an ancient deity of some long-forgotten mythology.

Francis walked over to hold her in his arms, his breath tickling her ear and her body pressed flush against hers.

“How much time do we have before we need to leave for Edinburgh Castle?”

“Not enough time for what you want.”

Her reply faded into a breathless moan when she felt his lips on the sensitive skin behind her ear.

“You’ll find I can be very quick.”

“Not something to boast about, my love.”

She smirked at Francis through the mirror but her quip was punished by a bruising grip on her hips and teeth sinking into the skin under her jaw.

“Francis…”

She hissed at the sting, there was no way she could wear her hair up now, everyone would see the red marking against her pale skin.

“Lean forward and place your hands on the vanity.”

Mary obediently followed his orders, her eyes fluttering close when she heard the rustle of fabric and felt her husband lifting up her voluminous skirts. There were certainly going to be late to the banquet but with Francis’s heated fingers caressing her thighs, she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

All the guests had already arrived and the Great Hall was packed with Scottish nobility. Thankfully with the scotch and French red wine flowing, their guests were too jolly to care that their monarchs were an hour late. Mary self-consciously held the hair on her shoulder to make sure that it covered her neck, while she knew there was nothing to be ashamed about intimacy with her husband, her noblemen in Scotland would only see it as another way in which a woman was unfit to rule. She didn’t want the misconception of French being nothing but pleasure-seeking hedonists to be proven correct.

The instant that they stepped into the Great Hall, Francis and Mary were approached by a perturbed James Stuart.

“Where the hell have you both been?”

Francis suppressed a smile with much difficulty while Mary avoided her brother’s gaze with pink cheeks.

“If you must know, we had an issue with my dress.”

James seemed to have accepted the excuse at first but then he noticed their body language and his face twisted in disgust.

“That’s disturbing… will I have to contend with your activities the entire time you’re here? Have some self-control.”

“What can I say? I have the most enchanting wife.”

Francis reached for the hair covering her neck but she slapped his hand away with a disapproving glare.

“I would expect nothing less of a Frenchman.”

“James! You promised.”

He mumbled a reluctant apology before turning to his sister while extending his arm.

“Come… you must make rounds to meet everyone before dinner is served.”

Francis opened his mouth to object but James had already dragged his sister off, leaving the King alone amongst foreigners. Francis felt completely out of his depth in a new country with people that he didn’t know and ones that resented him for reasons beyond his comprehension. He held an immense love and respect for his wife’s nation, he didn’t see himself as a savior or conqueror the way his father had, Scotland was his country too and he had a duty to her people. He just wished that with time and effort his subjects would recognize his devotion.

Francis was thankful that his Scots was polished enough that he hadn’t made a fool of himself before the Scottish guard that accompanied them to Holyrood yet still, he was aware that everything about him screamed French, he needed to become more immersed in Scottish language and culture or he will never win over these people. If only his brother-in-law was willing to help him instead of holding on to old grudges.

The King’s internal monologue was disrupted when he heard someone call his name. He turned around with a relieved smile when his eyes landed on his brother’s but he frowned in confusion at the dark-haired man accompanying him.

“How are you enjoying Scottish court Bash?”

Francis gave a mischievous smile when he realized that his brother was on his way to being drunk.

“This scotch is much stronger that the one Mary imports for us.”

The man beside Bash laughed openly and it was then that Francis recognized him; he was a part of his mother-in-law’s delegation every time she came to France.

“You’re James Hepburn, Lord Bothwell.”

The nobleman tipped his head in his direction with a smirk.

“The one and only; I must say King Francis, you look like a fish out of water.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who’s seen you at French Court, your demeanor is very different here. Not as bold or as regal… Scottish Court may not be as duplicitous but there are vipers here just the same. Do not leave the impression that you need their approval or the nobility will think you weak.”

Lord Bothwell then handed him a glass of wine which Francis accepted with little protest.

“Why are you helping me?”

“I was a loyal advisor to Marie de Guise; a member of her Privy Council and I know better than anyone how much you have helped Scotland. I wish to be given the chance to help you and Queen Mary the way I helped her mother.”

Francis mulled over his words while carefully scrutinizing Lord Bothwell, he was looking for signs of insincerity. He wasn’t sure if he should trust the man simply because his was loyal to the late Queen Regent. He scanned the crowd in search of his wife and his countenance brightened when their eyes met from across the room. She was busy talking to a large man in green and blue plaid which indicated that he was a member of the Clan Mackenzie. After their interaction with the leader of their clan in France and his death at Catherine’s hands, Mary always lamented not making her condolences in person.

“Will you quit the politics for a night? We just got here.”

Bash bemoaned at his brother and his new friend.

“Your Deputy is right, your majesty. Let us put away the politics for now and allow me to show how Scots enjoy themselves.”

The rest of the night went by without much hiccups. Francis was soon joined by many Catholic nobles who were too intoxicated to care that they were chatting with a Frenchman and it made the time before dinner pass by quickly. The dinner itself was a grand affair with many hearty meals appropriate for the mountainous climate. Francis and Mary sat beside each other; the Queen enjoying the comfort of her cultural cuisine after so long and the King learning to like the foreign flavors that were so complex yet so very simple. He watched in amazement as his wife stood up to thank her court with a beaming smile, her speech electing a loud cry of approval. There was nothing quiet or sophisticated about Scottish Court and while he was uncomfortable with the lack of formality, he couldn’t help but think that it was a breath of fresh air.

After the feast, Francis stepped out into the Castle courtyard to escape the stifling warmth of the Great Hall. He found a stone bench near a running fountain and sat down with a sigh. The long journey took a lot out of him and unbeknownst to his wife, his muscles still ached after a tiring day; an after affect of his illness that Miquel had reassured him would pass with time. He tiled his head up to take in the starry night sky and was reminded of the summer nights in France when him and Mary would lie on the grass to map out constellations in the sky.

The peaceful serenity of the moment was shattered when Francis heard the rustling of leaves and immediately pulled out his sword. He took a few tentative steps, his eyes squinting to make out a figure in the dark.

“Whoever you are… you’re making a big mistake. Come into the light and show yourself.”

A man stepped out into the shadows; he was dressed in a black fur coat with the cross hanging around his neck. His mousy features were completely ordinary but there was something about the man that made Francis grip his sword tighter.

“We meet at last, King Francis.”

The man bowed with a reverence that he’d only received in his country and it startled him.

“I’m sorry my lord… do I know you?”

“You must know of me. I am Reverand John Knox.”

Francis’s eyebrows shot up; this man was responsible for a near civil war in Scotland?  He schooled his features into a passive smile, he couldn’t let Knox know how little he thought of him. He sheathed his sword and held out his hand.

“It’s always a pleasure to meet such influential and prominent members of society. I have heard about your revolutionary works even in France.”

Knox grinned at the compliment; it seemed the French King would be very easy to win over.

“And I have heard all about your accomplishments in France. The defeat of English men at Calais, your success at crushing rebellion and even the way you tricked Elizabeth by coming here.”

“While I appreciate the acknowledgement, I don’t think a man as focused as yourself came here just to sing my praises.”

“I didn’t actually… I came to you because we have an important matter to discuss.”

Francis cocked his head at the glint in Knox’s eyes.

“And what pray tell is that?”

“Your reign as King and the future of Scotland.”

The King’s eyes narrowed at his insinuation.

“Speak plainly Reverend Knox.”

“I am offering to secure your rule as King in exchange for a simple favor.”

“A favor… I see.”

Francis knew that the man was an opportunist and misogynistic rat so any favor he asked of him would definitely be against his principles but Francis was determined to get close to such an influential man. If he could make Knox believe that they were on the same side, he could neutralize his Protestant support and sway them in his favor.

“I will convince my followers; nobility and commoners alike to bow to you as their King if you promise to keep your wife in line.”

He blinked at Knox’s words in disbelief, did he truly think that the way to win him over would be to insult his wife? Then again, men like John Knox and his father only knew one way to treat women and it was not with the respect he gave his Queen.

“How do you propose I keep her in line?”

“Remind the Queen of her place; a woman in power goes against nature itself, her duty is to her children and her husband. She has no reason to govern when we have you, a strong and powerful man.”

Francis’s nostrils flared but he didn’t show his anger; if playing along with this pathetic creature got them the support that they needed then Francis would bid his time and take the opportunity. He was a Valois and a Medici; he wasn’t a stranger to getting his hands dirty for the greater good.

“I agree to your terms Lord Knox.”

“Fantastic… I look forward to bowing to a true leader instead of being forced to surrender to the weaker sex.”

Francis held up his hand to halt the man’s self-satisfaction.

“I do have a condition though… I will not tolerate any open disrespect towards my wife, whether she rules or not, she is the Queen and must be treated as such. Promise me that no harm will come to Mary and I will gladly take her throne.”

John’s teeth clenched at the demand; he should’ve anticipated this. There was no way that the King would allow him to cause her removal, her safety would have to be guaranteed of he’d never be able to put a man on the Scottish throne.

“It will be as you wish, your grace.”

“Very well then… it was an honor to meet you, John Knox. I look forward to our future partnership.”

And so, an alliance was made, its foundation smeared with deceit but an alliance nonetheless.

Richmond Palace, England

The sun was setting, giving the sky an enchanting symphony of colors, shades that painted the Richmond Palace in a stunning kaleidoscope. The Queen of England’s summer home consisted of lush gardens and vast hunting grounds in accordance to the favorite pastime of Henry Tudor. It was built by the late King and became a symbol of the Tudor dynasty; Queen Elizabeth I took the chance to visit the palace as things settled in London after her coronation.

The red-haired Queen sipped her favorite tea while she patiently waited in her parlor, her body was stiff with simmering fury but not once did it diminish her lovely features. The Queen of England looked younger than her twenty-seven years but no one dared to mistake her youth for weakness, for she was a stern and capable ruler even though she had only been Queen for two years.

A knock sounded at the parlor door making the Queen sit up straighter.

“Enter!”

Her call was answered in the form of the arrival of one Lord Nicolas, Ambassador to France.

“The man of the hour; I’m impressed by your courage Nicolas. Not many men would return to face my wrath after such a spectacular failure.”

Nicolas knelt before his Queen; in truth he was ashamed himself at being tricked so easily.

“I was blindsided; I didn’t expect such a scheme from them.”

“You are an expert of espionage; how did you get tricked by a dying king and a flighty girl?”

Elizabeth’s withering glare promised a hefty punishment for his failure.

“I underestimated my enemy. But Francis and Mary are not the helpless birds or careless children we thought them to be. They are cunning and ruthless; Francis is incredibly intelligent and Mary has a talent for inspiring loyalty.”

“Did she inspire yours? Are you implying that they are dangerous foes or are you simply impressed with them. I didn’t send you to France to be caught up in their glamor, you were sent to do a job.”

Nicolas took the scolding with grace and not once did he argue.

“They are a respectable adversary; that’s all I meant. I am an Englishman who will always be loyal to you, the one true Queen.”

Elizabeth huffed in response and simply signaled for him to take a seat.

“Since you failed to spy on Mary in France, you will continue your mission in Scotland.”

“I will do anything to make up for my outrageous dereliction of duty.”

The Queen nodded in acceptance at his conviction and handed him a cup of steaming tea.

“So you shall; but let me be clear about something Nicolas. This your last chance, you’ll find that in the event of your next delinquency; I will not be so merciful.”

Nicolas bowed his head, there was nothing else to do but accept the consequences of his error. He merely needed to ensure that his Queen’s throne was never endangered by the King and Queen of Scotland and France ever again.

Chapter Text

Palace of Holyroodhouse, Edinburgh

The King of France and Scotland flinched at the loud bang with which their bedchambers’ door closed, he held in a groan of frustration before following after his furious wife. It was the morning after their welcoming banquet and Francis made the terrible decision of confessing his conversation with John Knox before his wife had taken her morning tea. The mere mention of having to step aside as her husband ruled her country made her spit nails in fury and she’d stormed out before Francis could explain his plans.

“Mary wait! Would you stop and listen?”

He called after his wife but his words fell on deaf ears, they entered the family dining room with urgency and both their half-brothers stood up once they saw their red-faced siblings.

“Oh for God’s sake woman… at least give me a chance to explain myself.”

Francis’s irritated huff made Mary turn around; her skirts swishing and hair flying from the quick movement. She glared daggers at him and pointed her finger at him.

“What is there to explain? You made a deal with the proverbial devil without consulting with me.”

Before Francis could say anything to defend his actions, Bash and James walked over to break up the argument.

“What in the world is going on? Why are you at each other’s throats so early?”

Bash demanded while James questioned Francis.

“What did you do now?”

“My beloved husband met with John Knox last night and accepted his proposition. In exchange for keeping me muzzled and powerless, Knox has promised to make him the rightful King.”

Mary spat out while she made her way to the breakfast table to pour herself a cup of much needed tea. The gentlemen followed her example, Bash seemed to agree with her ire since he was giving his brother reproachful stares.

“Can you even trust a man like Knox?”

Bash asked Francis.

“I trust that his ambition and arrogance won’t let him ruin a chance to replace Mary with a man.”

“I’ve played this game before; pretending to bow for the benefit of the French nobles. I won’t give in my authority here; this is my court not yours.”

“Mary…”

Francis could understand his wife’s frustration, she was the rightful ruler of Scotland but there were so many forces against her that she couldn’t hold on to any power without greedy and ignorant men trying to take it away from her. Agreeing to Knox’s deal gave him the easiest solution to a problem that might’ve taken years to solve. England was growing stronger while France was unstable, they couldn’t defend against foreign threats if they didn’t find a way to create peace within this country quickly.

“No Francis… I am the Sovereign Queen of Scotland; this is my country and I won’t let any man try to take away my authority… not now and not ever!”

Mary sipped the last of her tea before rising from her seat with her jaw clenched in determination.

“Where are you going?”

James finally spoke after watching the interaction between husband and wife in silence.

“To show John Knox that Queens do not bow to their subjects, it is in fact quite the other way around.”

With that declaration, she walked out of the room with her head held high. The second she strode out, her husband put his head in his hands, his shoulders hunched in defeat.

“How am I going to fix this?”

He groaned against his fingers.

“What did you think was going to happen brother? Don’t you know how headstrong Mary is? There was no way that she’d agree to let you take the reins here.”

 While Bash was firmly of the opinion that Mary deserved to be treated with respect by everyone and couldn’t understand his brother’s motives, it was James that took a stance that shocked them.

“You did the right thing.”

Francis’s head snapped up to stare at the Earl of Moray with bewilderment.

“You agree with me?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The man scrunched up his nose before elaborating his stance for his confused companions.

“I know Knox better than you or my sister, he is a master manipulator and a powerful orator. When he speaks, the people listen and as of now they trust in him more than they trust us. Having him on your side will make it easier to cement your influence here. Scotland is facing a constant threat of invasion from England; we don’t have the time nor the resources to crush a civil rebellion should Mary refuse this offer.”

Francis was aware of the situation in his wife’s homeland and his instincts drove him to make the deal with Knox but he’d still doubted whether it was the right course of action; hearing James Stuart endorse his decision put him at ease. No one was more qualified to advise them regarding this situation than the Earl of Moray, not only had he ruled as regent before but he had ties to Catholic and Protestant nobles. James was an excellent politician and his experience was a great help to him.

“Very well then, I will speak to my wife and try to convince her to agree to this scheme.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea brother, she was pretty mad at you.”

James nodded in agreement with Bash’s quip.

“Don’t worry, I will handle my sister. She’s more likely to take my advice when it comes to Scottish Court.”

And so, it was decided that James would convince his sister to take a step back and let her husband publicly rule. Francis had his own work cut out for him, he had a meeting with Knox and the prominent nobles in his pocket that very afternoon. The men had a very busy day ahead of them.

Mary had just finished nursing her infant when the door to her study clicked open, since she knew only one person would enter her private space without needing permission she didn’t bother straightening her bodice. She lifted her head to meet her husband’s apologetic gaze and disarming smile. When he was sure that his wife wouldn’t scream at him or throw something at his head, he walked over to lean on the desk before her and reached to caress his son’s blonde whisps.

“How did your meeting go?”

He searched her eyes for any hint of ulterior motives but only her clenched teeth gave the indication that she was displeased with the situation.  

“I hated every moment of it, to tell the truth. I don’t want to take this path, especially not here… this is your homeland and you deserve to be respected and revered by your people. I hate that bastards like Knox can diminish your place in your own government.”

The Queen sighed with a rueful smile on her lips, she reached out to cup her husband’s cheek and caress his skin with affection in her bright eyes.

“I had a talk with James and he made me see things a bit clearly, you made the right decision.”

“Doesn’t feel like it… all I want is to see these men bowing to you… their rightful Queen.”

“But we don’t have the time to do it the obvious way, we have way too much on our plate to risk a rebellion. If the people want a King, then I will give them one, no matter how much it irritates me.”

Francis admired her strength and determination, it was at that moment that he made a vow with himself; he would see her take her rightful place as Scotland’s Monarch, no matter what lengths he would have to go. When he was done with her nobles, they would fall at his wife’s feet in complete submission. He leaned down to place a lingering kiss on her forehead as his hand caressed her silky hair.

“You know that I will never betray your trust, this crown will not change my devotion to you or our family. I may rule in name but I will never make any decision against your wishes.”

“I know my love. I have complete faith in you… I have no doubt that you will always stand by me and I am utterly blessed to have you as my king.”

Mary’s lips curved up and her eyes misted in emotion, sometimes she would become so overwhelmed by her love for him and she couldn’t believe that there was a time when she thought that she could be happier with someone else. There would never be a time when she wouldn’t stop feeling guilty for her affair, even now there were times when she’d wonder if Francis ever resented her for walking out on their marriage. Did Francis truly forgive her or would her infidelity remain a dark cloud forever?

“I love you Mary and I would do anything for you.”

“It’s nice to hear you say that because I have the perfect way of displaying your authority.”

Francis watched in amusement at his wife’s wide grin and twinkling eyes.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I think it’s time you were officially coronated.”

Mary and Francis shared twin smirks; it seemed that they had a party to plan. It was time the people of Scotland saw their King being crowned.

Chateau de Fontainebleau, France  

When Lola had finally agreed to marry Stephane after so many hurdles, she thought that that was it, their troubles were over and she would have the happily ever after she dreamed of. What a fool she turned out to be; Stephane Narcisse was no Prince Charming but a viper in gilded clothing. He’d began to pull away from her after she refused some of his insane ideas of lovemaking and she could tell that it bothered him, she just had no idea that he would betray their marriage vows to find comfort with the Queen Mother of all people. While Lola didn’t have any more proof than a few gossiping servants, she was determined to find out the truth.

Lola exhaled loudly as she exited her carriage to return to French Court; she’d just spent the morning with her dear friend Greer in her rapidly growing establishment. It was a breath of fresh air to see someone so independent and free when she seemed to always find herself tied to one man or another. She wished Francis hadn’t made her husband Lord Chancellor, maybe then they wouldn’t have to stay at court and be near Catherine.

When Lola finally returned to her chambers, the first thing she did was check on her son. Jean was even more fussy than before and he didn’t waste a single opportunity to remind his mother how terribly he missed Eddie, Jamie and his Papa. Some days were especially punishing when he would decide that Lola was the cause of his brothers’ departure and he somehow figured out that Stephane was his step-father. Jean would always find a way to make a mess of her husband’s clothes, every time he saw the man, Jean would break out in hysterics and call for his father.

After her son was settled for his afternoon nap, she made her way to her husband’s new office. Even before she opened the door, she could hear the voice of the Queen Mother and it enraged her beyond reason.

“What exactly did she expect me to do? Bless her union with a former kitchen boy? It’s bad enough that he’s the acting Deputy in Sebastian’s absence, now she wants to hand him a title and bring him into the royal family? Claude is a Princess; she cannot be foolish enough to believe that her marriage is her choice.”

Lola clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp, there were rumours of Claude’s affair with Leith, Greer herself had mentioned that they seemed chummy but she had no idea that it was serious enough to bring it to Catherine.

“She said that Francis promised her that she could marry whosoever she chose?”

Stephane’s voice was muffled through the door but even then, Lola could make out the flirtatious baritone.

“It doesn’t matter what Francis wants… I am her mother.”

“Is that why she was almost engaged to Conde? Because you have the power to make decisions in this family?”

“Do shut up Stephane… things are different now; I am regent and I have more power than ever.”

“Which brings me back to the real matter at hand… the Red Knights… what do you plan on doing with them? If Francis finds out how quickly your checkered past has come to topple his reign, he will kill us both.”

There was a rustle of fabric and the sound of a chair being moved.

“I cannot believe that I fear my son’s wrath, I gave birth to him and now he doesn’t even trust me.”

“It is your fault for conspiring with the enemy.”

“Don’t turn this on me… you were the one who had me banished… you ratted me out.”

Catherine’s accusatory tone echoed outside and Lola didn’t even have to strain to hear it.

“You kidnapped my wife!”

“Spare me Stephane; your obsession with that child was disturbing then and it’s equally disgraceful now.”

“As enjoyable your jealousy is… I suggest you keep it to yourself… I am married.”

Lola nodded to herself at the conviction in her husband’s voice, thankful that the rumours were just that; baseless gossip.

“That’s not what you were saying last night; I believe then your words were something like… don’t stop or…tighter was a favourite of mine.”

Lola’s relief shattered in a second and she felt her world come crashing down. They were right; Francis, Mary, Kenna and Greer were all right; Stephane Narcisse was nothing but a sleezy snake who cared about no one but himself. The ringing in her ears increased and her vision clouded with tears.

“It was a moment of weakness! A mistake that will never happen again. I love Lola and I will remain faithful to my wife.”

“I know you Stephane… your child bride will never be enough for you and you are not a man used to dissatisfaction.”

Lola walked away from her hiding spot with the occupants of the room none the wiser, with a simple admission, Narcisse had destroyed their marriage and he didn’t even know it yet. She hated herself for ever falling for his tricks because now she was stuck in a marriage she didn’t want.

Yet again, Lady Lola had found herself in a cage of her own making.

Edinburgh Castle, Scotland

After the last three weeks of preparations and intricate planning; the day was finally upon them. It was the coronation of King Francis II, today was the day that the King Consort will be sworn in as the sovereign of Scotland before all of Scottish Nobility. Every Clan leader and their family was staying at Court, along with the Protestant nobles that wanted more than anything to see a man sit the Scottish throne. A very large part of the Queen protested at such blatant misogyny but she trusted her husband and she was going to be nothing but supportive.  

With all their guests at Edinburgh Castle, Mary decided that it would be easier to move from their private residence and to Court for the duration of their stay. She was currently in her study, waiting for her husband to finish getting ready for the coronation. Unlike their crowning in France where they wore reds and gold for their claim to England, today they chose to keep it neutral; Mary’s dress was a brilliant seafoam blue with gold while her husband was being fitted in a dark navy. When she heard the footsteps behind her, she felt a smile bloom and her grip tightened on the object in her hands. Mary turned around to meet her husband’s gaze, Francis’s bright blue eyes always managed to mesmerize her but the colour of his attire made them even more vibrant and for a moment she forgot to breathe.

“You are so beautiful!”

Francis let out a chuckle at her flushed cheeks.

“I’m not sure how to respond to that… is it a compliment to call a man beautiful?”

“Perhaps not for everyone else but not every man is as stunning as my husband.”

Mary watched in amusement as Francis’s face reddened in bashfulness. When he lowered his head to escape her seductive gaze, his eyes landed on the bundle of fabric in her hands.

“What is that?”

Mary smiled up at her husband and peeled away the silk to reveal the headpiece underneath, it was a grand gold crown with detailing that looked like a lion’s mane and encrusted with rubies and garnets in the Scottish red.

“Now that is beautiful.”

“This crown is what took the coronation so long to plan, it was in a rough shape and needed to be repaired before it could be worn.”

“Why not use any other crown? I’m sure it must’ve been troublesome to have it repaired so quickly.”

Mary looked up at him with watery eyes that made him realize that the jewel was more than just a crown.

“This was the crown my father wore and you’re right that we could’ve chosen another piece but I wanted you to wear this.”

“Mary…”

“I love you Francis and I know in my heart that if he was alive, my father would have loved you simply for how you have protected me all these years. I want you to wear it as a symbol of my faith in you, so you know that I will always trust you with my nation.”

Francis felt a rush of warmth bloom at his wife’s heartfelt words and he wasted no time in pulling her close, covering his lips with hers, he swallowed her gasp of surprise. King James’s crown was mushed between their bodies and it was a miracle that it didn’t fall when Mary’s hands clutched his shoulders to steady herself.  Francis pulled away from his wife’s swollen lips but only so he could nip and suck at the sensitive skin of her collarbone.

“I swear to God if you leave a mark, I will murder you!”

Mary breathed loudly but seeing as her scolding ended in a pleasurable moan, he ignored the words. Just as she was about to detach herself from him, the door to the study opened.

“Everything is ready for your grand entrance… what the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you keep your hands to yourself for one day?”

The Earl of Moray had entered his sister’s study with a triumphant smile on his face that immediately turned into a grimace of disgust. His younger sister and her husband were flushed and breathless, their pupils blown wide and hair in complete disarray. If this was going to become a habit then he had no idea how he would stay sane during his sister’s visits, while it was nice to know that Mary was happy in her marriage, he had no wish to see her husband attempting to eat her face all the time.

“We’re sorry that time got away from us.”

Francis gave no further explanation and watched with a smirk at his wife’s attempts to tame the locks of hair that had slipped out of her crown. He handed his father-in-law’s crown-his crown- to James with a nod. They had decided that while he remained in Scotland, he would wear the Scottish crown, keeping the French crown safely hidden away. It would be strange to get used to a new headpiece but it seemed like too insignificant of a discomfort to object. If he was to convince his wife’s people that he was one of them then he needed to abide by their traditions.

The procession was so similar to his coronation in France that it brought a sense of déjà vu, Francis met Mary’s eye as they walked into the Great Hall and towards the large thrones at the end of the aisle.

We do greater things when we are one, when we act as equals. This is not a coronation for a King; it’s for a King and Queen.

He tried to silently communicate those same sentiments to his wife, in hopes that when he knelt before the Cardinal and had her father’s crown placed on his head while wearing her family’s ring; she didn’t doubt for a second that his loyalty was to her first. What Francis didn’t know was that the pride that his wife felt that day at French Court was replicated today as well, Mary’s cheeks were bright and her chin high at the sight of her husband being crowned before her people.

“Long live the King!”

Queen Mary’s voice reverberated through the hall, resulting in the cheers echoing by the attendants. Upon her insistence, the ceiling was fitted with bags of feathers to be released at the end of the ceremony. The King and Quen shared a private smile when they rained down, the soft and white feathers falling from nowhere. Leeza didn’t even know how significant those feathers were during her wedding, it had somehow become their own personal tradition.

After the ceremony ended, the guests were escorted outside to the vast castle grounds for a day of feasting and festivity. Mary remembered how aghast she had been at Catherine’s opulent plans for Francis’s coronation and while this one was not nearly as grand, she understood the need for appearances much better now. All of Scotland and England was looking at them for an inch of weakness and they couldn’t slip up for the sake of frugality. Mary has provided for Scotland and England a King and heirs, today was the day to show Europe that if Elizabeth pushed her then she will fight fire with an even greater fire.

Halfway through a very animated cultural dance, Mary and Francis were interrupted by a pageboy. They reluctantly left the throes of dancing Scots to follow the young lad to a receiving room in the castle.

“He arrived in the midst of the ceremony your grace, the major-domo made him wait here.”

The Queen narrowed her eyes at the explanation, who on earth would have the audacity of arriving unannounced during such an important event? When the door opened and the individual revealed, they weren’t surprised in the least. There was only one man who had such a knack for being a tremendous pain in the arse.

“Look what the cat dragged in… are you following me, Nicholas? I’m not sure if I should be flattered or disturbed.”

The Englishman had the sense to appear less smug than he was in France, though it could be due to the death glare that Francis was sending him.

“Queen Elizabeth has appointed me the Scottish Ambassador.”

“Does that position come with a peacekeeping force as well? Or was that just in the event of my death?”

“King Francis… I assure you…”

“You assure nothing! To take advantage of a grieving widow is low even for Elizabeth. Tell your Queen that if she doesn’t back down, I will come for her. I have no wish for war but if she starts one then we will finish it.”

Nicolas bowed in the face of the King’s fury; he had no intention of picking a fight with the newly coronated King of Scotland. He came to make peace, even the English nobles were salivating at the idea of a King for Scotland and England, those misogynistic men couldn’t be given hope that Francis would depose Elizabeth, that they would finally bow to a man. Nicolas reached into the pocket of his coat to retrieve a packet of parchments that he handed over to Queen Mary.

“What is this? It better not be another trap Nicolas.”

The Ambassador shook his head.

“Queen Elizabeth is offering a peace accord, an end to this war between our nations.”

Instead of opening the sealed packet, she shared a silent conversation with her husband before nodding to the Lord’s words.

“I will have my advisors look over it after the festivities… for now you are welcome to attend as my guest. Your ambassadorship will depend on how judicious your proposition truly is.”

Mary turned her back to the Englishman with a haughty sneer and accepted her husband’s arm, allowing him to escort her back to the celebrations outside. Negotiations could wait, today was supposed to be about Francis and his growing power in Scotland. She wasn’t blind to how many of Knox’s followers were part of the nobility and she’s seen them bowing and scraping to her husband all week, for better or for worse this plan was working faster than expected and she couldn’t be more pleased.

It was well past midnight when the royal couple was finally relieved of their hosting duties, they felt especially guilty when they returned to the nursery to find their little ones fast asleep. With the entire day dedicated to the coronation, they didn’t find anytime to step away and see the boys, even little William was tended to by a wetnurse instead of his own mother. When Francis returned from the bathing chamber, his wife was already dressed for bed but looked nowhere near ready to sleep. Mary was leafing through the packet that Nicolas had handed to her that afternoon. Her attention shifted to him when she felt the weight on the bed shift, indicating that he had joined her as he leaned against the headboard to peer at the parchment in her hand.

“What does Elizabeth want?”

“It is an invitation to a Peace Conference at Durham Castle… she says she wishes for us to finally sit down and negotiate in person.”

Francis scoffed at the mere notion.

“Peace… England doesn’t want peace; it wants your crown and this nation… where was her offer of peace when I lay dying? She pounced at our weakness with no regard to you or your safety.”

“I know Francis, I mistrust this just as much as you do, which is why I plan to bring it up with the Privy Council at tomorrow’s meeting. You should send a copy to Catherine as well so your advisors can have their say.”

Mary scanned her husband’s features; his jaw was set and his blue eyes cold. She knew that he hated England for every way in which they brought suffering to France and to Scotland. She reached to hold his hand so his fists could unclench, his eyes softening at her touch.

“Forget our advisors for a moment and tell me what you want to do. What does your heart tell you?”

He asked while intently staring into her eyes.

“I don’t think we should let an opportunity for peace slip through our fingers. We cannot be seen as the nation that turned their back on a chance for diplomacy… we cannot be known as the aggressors especially…”

“…After my anti-protestant decisions.”

“Yes. But more than that, Scotland needs our immediate attention. We cannot look over our shoulder for an invasion and strengthen this country at the same time. We should see this invitation as a blessing instead of a trick.”

“I don’t trust Elizabeth as far as I can throw her.”

“And you think I do? We may be cousins but she has proven time and time again that she is not my friend. And I’m not saying that we roll over and offer up our bellies, we negotiate like rulers. We come up with a treaty that ensures peace and benefits us just as much as it benefits her, if not more.”

Francis grinned at the fire in her eyes coupled with the conviction in her voice. He lifted their joined hands to place a kiss on her fingers.

“I will write to my mother… she spent time at English Court and her Medici ties make her an excellent ally to have. We will have a delegation of the most cunning and loyal people accompany us to Durham.”

“If Elizabeth double crosses us… I will punish her myself.”

With a finality in her tone, Mary swept the parchments on the bed and placed them on her bedside table before turning to her husband with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“What are you thinking my love? Why are you smirking?”

Instead of answering his questions, Mary reached for the ties of her nightgown and began to undo them.

“Mary?”

She shrugged the fabric off her shoulders and watched with heavy lidded eyes as his lips pulled into a predatory grin.

“Remember what we did the night of your last coronation?”

“Every vivid detail, my queen.”

“I was thinking we should do it again… only rougher…and harder.”

Francis practically pounced on her, making her let out a peal of laughter.

“Your wish is my command, your majesty.”

Chapter Text

Hadrian’s Wall, Anglo-Scottish Border

It was a sunny summer day, or as sunny as it could get in the Highlands this north from France. The Royal Carriage halted to a stop at the Western End, somewhere near Newcastle; along with an entire retinue of carriages belonging to nobles that accompanied the Queen Mother to become a part of their King’s delegation, horses marked with the Fleur de lis, the French flag and banners held by guards and soldiers made for a grand arrival. After a long carriage ride from the most abandoned port in Scotland, Catherine de Medici stepped out of her carriage with her son Prince Charles in tow. Her mink-lined boots trudged into the mud and the hem of her ebony velvet gown just barely escaped the same treatment.

“When will they get here? It’s midday, we should reach Durham by nightfall if we have any hope of attending the Conference tomorrow.”

“If I know Francis and Mary… they probably had a late night.”

Charles snarked, earning a smack on the head for his jape.

Then Lady Lola and Lady Greer stepped out from their own carriage to stretch their legs. Catherine couldn’t help but feel smug at the visage of the Lord Chancellor being stuck in a carriage with his colleagues because his wife refused to travel with him.

“Perhaps the princes gave them some trouble, I can still hear the way Jean cried when I was leaving, James and Edward are even more attached to their parents.”

“I wish there was an option to bring my nephews, I miss the troublesome little lads.”

Catherine scoffed.

“And risk having my grandsons anywhere near Elizabeth and her followers? We need no such vulnerability these next few days. There is nothing Elizabeth likes more than an easy target.”

“It’s a talent really Catherine, how you can turn even your treason into something useful. All this inside information you have on English Court is only because you were consorting with our enemy.”

Greer cut in, she was the only one aware of the reason for Lola’s sorrow and she couldn’t stand to lose the chance to point out Catherine’s hypocrisy.

“It is the Medici way, my dear. My talents and skills are what make me so invaluable to my sovereign king.”  

 Their terse discussion was soon put to rest when the rest of their travelling companions joined them, there was no use showing discontent before the rest of the court, this was family business and must be kept private. Not wanting to wait like fools, they decided to have a light lunch before the King and Queen arrived and they had to be on their way.

It was less than an hour later than they felt the ground shake; the horses neighed at the sound of hooves and the French delegation gathered in attention. Catherine squinted her eyes to shield them against the burning sun as she looked to the large host heading their way. About half a dozen carriages could be seen behind a couple of horses at the front of the retinue, Catherine could make out at least fifty armed men carrying different banners of Scottish noble houses. The highest of the banners were the Royal coat of arms and Scotland’s flag but it was the head of the travellers that made the Queen Mother pause. The sun glinted off the golden-haired man seated atop his dark stead; her son was riding at the front and next to him was none other than the Queen of Scots herself.

 “Those honourable fools!”

She cursed at their bold actions, to travel unprotected for all of Scotland and England to see was such an unnecessary security risk. When the King and Queen finally reached the rest of their party, they dismounted with little delay and rushed forward to meet the rest of their family. Prince Charles met his brother halfway to pull him into an enthusiastic hug while Queen Mary’s ladies rushed to her side.

“Francis… where is your crown?”

For the gold and ruby headpiece was not the one that her son inherited from his father.

“Mother… I hope you are well.”

Francis greeted his mother with a kiss on her cheek, earning himself a fond smile. Catherine was pleasantly surprised when her daughter-in-law’s greeting followed the same affectionate manner. Perhaps she could regain her place by their side after all.

“Better now that I see you are healthier than before.”

“Ah yes! The Scots know how to fatten a man, they have such hearty meals.”

“I’m glad… thank you for looking after my son, daughter.”

Mary’s eyes brightened at the gratitude.

“It was my honour and my pleasure.”

The short reunion was interrupted by the arrival of Lord James, urging them to move their party for the road.

“We must make haste; we will journey for the rest of the day and make camp before sundown to freshen up before our arrival at Durham Castle.”

James was the self-appointed manager of their delegation, as the Queen’s brother and her closest advisor, he was the perfect man for the job. Before departing for the rest of their journey, they made a few introductions to ease the communication. The Scottish council members consisted of the Duke of Hamilton, Earl of Crawford, Duke of Fife and Earl of Bothwell. The French council members included the Lord Chancellor, Lord Grenier, Lord Clavelle and the Duke of Normandy. All the members of the delegation settled in an orderly fashion so they may continue onward to their journey.

It was all coming to a head and finally after years of manipulations and wars; the two Queens would be face to face.

Durham Castle, England

When Queen Elizabeth saw the lone horse arrive at the gates of the castle, she knew that the time had come to greet their guests. Lord Ambassador Nicolas had ridden ahead to alert his Queen of the arrival of the Scottish and French delegation to ensure proper receiving customs were followed. The vast gardens of the castle were decorated with fresh blooms and banners of all three nations and their royal houses. The pathway was lit with burning braziers and when the English Queen arrived with her party to receive their guests, the trumpets sounded.

Merely moments later, the path to the castle was crowded with horses, carriages and footmen carrying their own banners. Elizabeth scanned the procession for the royal carriage but she couldn’t find it, instead the sound of a horn echoed and the men parted for two stallions; one black and one white. The English Queen’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the arrival of her rival; she had expected a grand carriage and a figure in opulent finery. Queen Mary was dressed in an intricate satin and velvet gown of the richest plum, it had a slit in the centre to reveal black breeches to make it easier for riding, on her head she wore a gold crown with patterns of lilies-the crown of the French Queen. Her husband’s horse came to a stop beside hers and Elizabeth knew then that the rumours of King Francis’s disabilities were false; the King of France looked nothing like a weak or sickly child and the way his eyes scanned the crowd for threats made it obvious that he was not a man to underestimate. He dismounted from his stead to help his wife down; their matching velvet attires made them striking and regal.

Mary watched in trepidation as her gaze landed on the red-haired woman who stepped forward; her ruby and gold gown elaborately detailed, her grand crown atop a bed of auburn curls. She had heard that the English Queen was unsightly, her appearance disagreeable and more akin to a man than a woman but in Mary’s opinion her cousin was lovely.  She had an aura of grace and radiance that the rumours clearly disregarded out of disrespect.

Both Queens moved until they were face to face, finally within speaking distance and for a moment it felt as if the world had stilled. The chatter of their companions silenced, nothing could be heard except the flickering of flames, the rustle of leaves and their own breathing. Everyone watched with bated breath, eager to see what would become of this meeting.

“Queen Mary.”

The Tudor queen broke the silence in her deep baritone.

“Queen Elizabeth.”

The younger of the two replied in her lyrical voice.

“Quite an army you have brought with you, cousin.”

Mary’s cheeks widened in an insincere smile.

“I like to call them peacekeepers… it has a certain non-aggressive ring to it, don’t you think?”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up at her cousin’s cheek and she smirked, if this was how they wanted to play it then who was she to spoil the fun? She shifted her attention to the man behind the Queen of Scots.

“King Francis… welcome to England.”

“You have a beautiful country, your grace.”

Once the stiff pleasantries were out of the way; the King and Queen’s retinue was shown inside. A whole wing of the castle was readied for the guests, with grand accommodations for the monarchs. Queen Elizabeth and her secretary Lord William led the tour.

“I know you must be tired from your journey cousin, but I have arranged a small banquet for your arrival. I hope you and your companions would join us.”

Elizabeth addressed Mary. Not wanting to appear ungrateful or difficult, the Queen of Scots accepted the invitation with grace.

“Wonderful! I shall leave you to it then… if you need any help Lady Jane will be at your service.”

The English Queen gestured to the lady’s maid at her side, the girl bowed before the King and Queen awkwardly. Soon enough, the only people left were Mary, Francis and Jane.

“The banquet will begin in an hour; can I help you with anything?”

Francis regarded the girl with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Lady Jane, you need only help us find our way around. You don’t have to wait on us.”

When Francis and Mary were finally left alone in their suite, the first thing she did was remove her boots and breeches. Sighing in relief, Mary hopped on the soft bed, stretching her bare legs on the cool silk sheets after a long day of horse riding. Francis was in the process of removing his own clothing until he only wore his tunic and breeches, he watched his wife in amusement and tried not to think of how similar she looked like a cat.

“I told you not to ride all the way here, we should’ve spent at least some of the journey in the carriage.”

She shook her head at him, swatting at him when he reached to poke at her shoulder teasingly.

“I needed to be seen riding with my people, I needed the nobles to know that yes I am a woman, but I have the heart of a King.”

“No one would begrudge you if you took a break, there is no need to bend over backwards trying to prove yourself to anyone.”

Mary leaned her head on his shoulder with a yawn while Francis played with her fingers.

“I know that but didn’t you see how impressed my cousin was when she saw me on horseback? She expected a delicate flower, a puppet queen for the men around her but now she knows that I am just as stubborn and powerful as her.”

Francis hummed in agreement, it was nice to see the surprise on the woman’s face when she saw his wife for the first time; Elizabeth wasn’t the first person to underestimate Mary and she won’t be the last. Every time it happened, Francis took great pleasure in watching as their opponents realise that the Queen of France and Scotland is a force to be reckoned with.

“Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll wake you up when it’s time.”

Mary stifled another yawn, her eyes misted with exhaustion.

“Alright but just for a few minutes, I don’t want us to be late.”

He pulled her closer so that she could rest her head completely on his chest, his lips placing gentle kisses along her hairline.

“Sleep, my love.”

They made it to the banquet just in time, a few moments more and they would have been late. Seeing as they were guests at English Court, it would’ve been height of rudeness to be anything other than punctual. The feast was elaborate and hearty, just as expected from one of the most powerful nations in Europe. Most of the dining was spent chatting amongst themselves, no one was brave enough to initiate conversation with their hosts. Mary could feel her cousin’s eyes on her all throughout dinner and she wasn’t sure why but it felt like she was on display before all of the English Court. Once the dining portion of the festivities ended, they were all ushered to an adjoining ballroom.

The floors were waxed to perfection and servers were waiting with trays of wine goblets for everyone while a band of musicians played soft melodies. Queen Elizabeth raised her glass in her cousin’s direction with a cocked eyebrow and curled lips.

“I hear the King and Queen of France and Scotland are enchanting dancers; tales of your touching display made it to my court as well. Would you do us the honour of opening for us tonight?”

Mary turned to her husband in apprehension, not sure what this was about. Was her cousin genuinely interested in watching them dance or was it a roundabout way of making a fool of her? Instead of objecting to the request like she’d though he’d do, Francis merely offered her his hand, leading her to the centre of the ballroom as the initial notes of a symphony began to play. They danced the same waltz that they did the day Antoine learned of Francis’s illness. There was a vast difference between the mood of the dancers; before every step was taken with care while Mary led the dance, there were steps missed to make up for his lack of movement or energy. That dance was mournful and sobering but this one? It was fluid and celebratory, every dip and twirl was made perfectly. Mary’s face was stretched into a dazzling smile as her husband spun her around the ballroom, lifting her up with such ease. Her champagne gold gown flared as she danced, the uncountable crystals sewn into her skirts glittered under the chandelier’s light; she contrasted beautifully with her husband’s burgundy attire. They made quite the picture, dancing in harmony with the lovely music.

 And when the dance came to its climax, instead of bowing as was customary her husband surprised them all by lowering himself until he was on his knees. The King of France and Scotland, a powerful man in a court full of men who despised bowing before a woman, kneeling before his wife. It was a clear message of intent for the following day of negotiations, that no one could bribe France to abandon its alliance, for Francis was firmly in his Queen’s corner.

When the song ended, Mary and Francis were surprised to notice that sometime during their own dance, many courtiers had moved to join them. They were so lost in the melody and on another they didn’t even realise they no longer danced alone. It brought a sense of relief for both of them, made them feel less like they were a prized pony at an auction. Husband and wife took advantage of the freely flowing alcohol to chat with the English courtiers. Mary in particular was pulled into dances with many Englishmen, including Ambassador Nicolas. It was her recent dance partner that intrigued her the most; Lord Robert Dudley.

 “Lord Dudley! I hear I have my cousin to blame for not making your acquaintance sooner.”

The man’s eyebrows knitted at her cheeky greeting as they began an allemande.

“I’m confused, your grace.”

“We received word that you were to be made the English Ambassador for France; but then Lord Nicolas arrived.”

Dudley smiled in response to her bright countenance.

“Ah I see… it wasn’t the Queen’s doing actually, my wife was hesitant to part from court and I was hesitant to part from her.”

Mary tried to keep in her grin at the way his voice wavered at the mention of her cousin; it appears Catherine was right about her cousin’s affair.

“You made the right call; us wives tend to want our husbands close and the smart men always keep their wives happy.”

“Does King Francis listen to his wife?”

Dudley teased Mary, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“King Francis is a very smart man.”

Dudley twirled his partner.

“Your husband is a very lucky man.”

“He sure is Lord Dudley… but don’t underestimate yourself, your wife must be so busy fighting off enamoured court ladies vying for your attention. I know I would’ve been.”

The Lord’s cheeks flushed at the compliment.

“You are quite the charmer Queen Mary.”

“And you are an excellent dancer, I’m glad we got to meet. I hope some day Lady Dudley will wish to visit France; Paris is not called the City of Love for nothing.”

 “Thank you for the invitation, we might visit after all.”

The two unlikely companions shared a grin. Although, not everyone was as pleased with their dance partners; Francis had decided to make the diplomatic decision to ask Queen Elizabeth to share a dance with him. On the other end of the ballroom, unbeknownst to Mary, her cousin glared daggers at her back while she danced with Elizabeth’s lover.

“Does it not bother you, your grace? That your wife is so candid and coy with the men around her.”

Francis’s smile turned sour at the sudden change in conversation; he and Elizabeth were sharing fond childhood memories and trying to make pleasant conversation, despite their complicated political position. It seemed that Mary’s playful dance with Lord Dudley brought the Tudor Queen’s claws out.

“On the contrary, I am proud to be married to one of the most beautiful women in Europe.”

“So, there are no feelings of jealousy stirred up? She has spent the evening with more than six gentlemen, aren’t you worried?”

He knew what Elizabeth was trying to do, his mother was the one to let slip Mary’s mistakes to her cousin, she wanted him to confess something that could be used to discredit his wife; to make her bend in the negotiations tomorrow. There was a time when Francis might have been annoyed but his wife was covered in his scent, to put it crudely, why on earth would he care if she danced with another man? He was the reason she was glowing so enchantingly in the first place.

“I trust my wife, Queen Elizabeth. There is nothing wrong with sharing a playful dance with your neighbours, it’s a wonderful way to make new friends. Just as we are doing right now.”

“I thought after her relations with the Prince of Conde…”

Elizabeth had little time to finish her statement when she was pulled in closer to the King of France, his breath tickled her ear while he murmured his next words.

“Choose your next words very wisely, your majesty. Whatever my mother said was nothing more than an overexaggerated account of the real events, and she was more than forthcoming about your personal life as well. You wouldn’t want someone to air out your secrets now, would you?”

Elizabeth’s nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed.

“Are you implying something? Do you truly think it wise to threaten me before my court?”

Francis’s face brightened in a dazzling smile, no one watching from a distance could ever comprehend the tone of their conversation by his expressions.

“Of course not, that wouldn’t be very stateman-like, would it? I am simply advising you against slandering a fellow Queen.”

“Slander or truth?”

“It must sting terribly to see him enjoying her company openly… Mary has been here less than mere hours and already she has managed to enchant half of your nobility.”

“You arrogant…”

Francis jerked her into a final spin, ending the dance with a bow.

“It was wonderful to chat with you cousin, I look forward to seeing you at the conference tomorrow.”

With a wink and a satisfied smirk, Francis strode off to find his wife. He had successfully ruffled her feathers, just enough to make her nervous about tomorrow. Let Elizabeth and her advisors panic, let them watch as Mary works the English nobility and grasp at straws to neutralise her. Mary may not be as bold or ruthless or as cunning as Elizabeth but she was much kinder, approachable and so much more endearing. If there was one thing that the French were famous for, it’s selling glamour and that was all they needed to endear them to the nobles or they will never get a beneficial deal.

The next morning was spent in the parlour given to their delegation; Francis and Mary had decided to discuss their terms and conditions with their advisors before the official meeting to be held that afternoon. The Councilmen were seated while Stephane read through a provisional proposal. The King’s Deputy watched the occupants of the room as he leaned against the doorframe, his hand on the pommel of his sword.

“Of course, the first thing will be the withdrawal of troops from Scotland for a permanent cease-fire. We will demand that all French and Scottish prisoners of war be released.”

“We should push for war reparations; how many territories have been completely desolated by English attacks?”

Mary added for Stephane to edit in the draft.

“On more thing, France and Scotland have both suffered from English interference in government and politics.”

Catherine chimed in from where she was lounging on a cushy chair with a goblet filled with wine. Stephane sent her an irritated glare, all too aware that she was the cause of his estrangement from Lola.

“What? I am right, how many times have we faced complications because Elizabeth’s envoys were making things difficult? Scotland’s biggest problem is how protestants turn to her instead of Mary.”

“The Queen Mother is correct; the protestants prefer Elizabeth so they are not willing to give my sister a chance…”

“That is because to them, I am a Catholic Queen.”

James shook his head.

“You are religiously tolerant but until Elizabeth backs off, our protestant Scots and even French will never give you the chance to prove it.”

“Very well, add it to the proposal Narcisse, no English interference in our national affairs.”

Francis nodded to the Lord Chancellor, urging him to make the addition. He was unsure as to the reason behind the tension between his mother and the nobleman but he decided to deal with it later, there was no point in stirring up drama before such an important meeting.

Lord Bothwell was one of the silent observers of the conversation, his eyes darting back and forth between the members of the royal family. The way the Duke de Poitiers scanned the room for any threats or the way Catherine de Medici’s serpent tongue made every man uneasy.

“Forgive me for the intrusion my queen, but what do you plan on doing if they ask you to relinquish your claim to England?”

Every person in the parlour jerked in attention at his question. The King and Queen exchanged a solemn glance as their conversation that morning flashed before their eyes.

“What will you do if Elizabeth asks you to give up your claim to the English throne?”

 Francis asked as they lay in bed, curled up under the covers before they had to get up for the day.

“If my claim to England is the only thing standing in the way of peace then I’ll have to relinquish it, won’t I? It would be the right thing to do.”

“Mary... your claim to England is your most precious possession. Think twice before giving it away.”

She reached up to press a chaste kiss to his swollen lips.

“It’s not... you are my most precious possession.”

“Am I?”

“Uh huh... our children, our family and our life here. I won’t jeopardize it in the hopes that if a thousand calamities aligned, I would someday sit the English throne. You know me... I never had any ambition for my cousin’s nation.”

“You just wanted to be safe... to protect the people you love.”

“And I will... no sacrifice is too great for my family and my people.”

“I will make the decision that is best for my country, if relinquishing my claim to England is what must be done then I will not hesitate.”

Catherine sat up straight at her daughter-in-law’s admission, her glare apparent to everyone.

“Do not be a fool, Mary.”

“Mother!”

 Francis admonished her, she couldn’t just treat Mary like a child before their nobility.

“No Francis! You’re both making a terrible mistake.”

Mary stood tall as her mother-in-law rose from her seat to face her.

“I have made my decision Catherine. I will not let my selfishness be the cause of any more bloodshed.”

“We will always have bloodshed; you can’t seriously believe that England will honour their promise of peace. The English are Imperialists and invaders, they will never rest until they rule every part of this isle.”

“That is what the treaty and our demands are about, once we reach an accord, they are bound to uphold it.”

“They will never give up on Scotland Mary. Mark my words; whether it’s days, months or years from now; you will have to go to war with England.”

“Mother is right.”

Francis reluctantly agreed to Catherine’s stance, his eyes met his wife’s and her betrayal was expressed quite explicitly through her face.

“We have no guarantee that England will uphold their end; which is why we must do everything to make the fighting end. Even if it means that Mary has to relinquish her claim.”

“Exactly… wait what? Francis! Do you even hear yourself?”

Mary’s lips curved in a hint of a smile that made Bash grin mischievously; it was always amusing to see Francis run circles around his mother, showing her that he was just as clever as her.

“If Scotland has any hope of surviving a future conflict, we need to replenish our resources; here and in France.”

“It’s a solid plan, using a cease-fire to build up our armies and strengthen our economy will make us stronger in the long run.”

Stephane stepped in with his own two cents, the Lord Narcisse was shrewd and an excellent statesman, he could see the merit behind such a plan.

“We need this is armistice more than anything because at this rate, France and Scotland cannot sustain this war and we will lose. I would rather have a chance at peace then send so many of our men to die for my claim.”

“You are going to regret this.”

Catherine warned Mary.

“No I won’t; I have made the difficult choice to give up my ambitions for the greater good. I will not allow my children to inherit my wars, James and Edward will rule in a time of peace because of my sacrifice and that is what you do for the people you love.”

Francis moved to stand by his wife as she stood before his mother, his eyes scanning every member of their delegation one by one.

“Your Queen and I will do whatever is necessary to ensure the protection and survival of our two nations. We need your trust and your oath that every single one of you will stand by our decision; that you will honour the treaties that will be signed today.”

One by one, the Scottish and French councilmen stood up to bow in fealty and respect. Bash watched in awe and pride as his brother and sister-in-law radiated with boldness, knowing in his heart that his monarchs deserved every bit of their subjects’ loyalty. God save anyone who dared to cross them.

That very afternoon, after a delightful luncheon, the French and Scottish delegation followed their English hosts into a large meeting chamber. Elizabeth sat at one head of the table while the other end was empty, Francis pulled that empty chair and with a smirk, gestured for his wife to take her seat at the table before sitting down beside her. It was poetically fitting that the two queens sat facing each other on opposite ends. There was a loud clearing of a throat to grab everyone’s attention before Lord William spoke with his arms clasped behind his back.

“Now that we have all settled; let us begin.”

A document consisting of three pages were placed before them, an outline to England’s offers for a peace accord. Mary skimmed through the parchment with interest while she saw Narcisse and Catherine scan every detail.

“As you can see; England is prepared to immediately withdraw troops from Scotland’s borders. Furthermore, all Scottish and French prisoners of war will be released into your protected custody as a show of faith.”

The only other sound in the room was the scratching of quill on parchment as a scribe recorded every detail of the meeting.

Francis put down the document and regarded the English Queen with a calculating eye while her secretary read out the terms. With a wave of his hand, Lord Narcisse stood up to reply with his own country’s interests.

“France and Scotland are prepared to do the same; all prisoners will be released along with our armies retreating from the borders. The French army will return home, with only enough soldiers remaining to guard the royal family.”

William turned to his queen for approval before asking the Lord Chancellor if they had anything else to add before they continued.

“Scotland is of the opinion that England’s excursions on border towns have decimated many of the regions; as such, the King and Queen insist on England paying reparations to make up for the violence and bloodshed.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at her cousin and her husband, it was bold indeed to outright demand money.

“And what amount has the Queen of Scotland deemed fit to pay for the blood spilled?”

The Tudor Queen’s voice cut through the chamber like a sharp knife, edged and punctuated with a sneer.

“Five hundred thousand pounds.”

Elizabeth stood from her seat at Mary’s reply.

“That is outrageous!”

“Is it cousin? How much do you think a life is worth? How many has England taken from us?”

“Your price is too high Queen Mary. You will have your reparations but England will not pay more that one hundred thousand pounds.”

“Five hundred thousand.”

Mary repeated with the same stubbornness that she was famed for. Elizabeth shared an exasperated look with her advisors and while they were scowling at having to part with such an egregious amount, they gave her a subtle nod.

“We are prepared to raise the amount to two hundred thousand pounds.”

“Five hundred thousand.”

The Englishmen were frustrated at such an obstinate woman, hoping that her husband would find a way too reign her in. Francis however, was having the time of his life watching Mary stand her ground before men twice her age. Even Catherine had a grin on her face.

“Are you even trying to negotiate?”

Elizabeth demanded.

“Why shall I? The Tudors have taken too much from Scotland without provocation, out of ambition or greed or goodwill… it does not matter. It will take more that empty promises to get the peace that both of us desire Queen Elizabeth.”

“Very well then; I will agree on three hundred thousand pounds but not a penny more.”

Mary relaxed in her seat, her husband squeezing her hand under the table in support.

“It is a deal then.”

The new terms were added to a draft contract that was being written down by none other than Lord Dudley. After the changed were written down, Lord Nicolas passed to Queen Mary and King Francis another page. This one held another demand, one from Elizabeth to Mary.

“I understand that we have a difficult path to peace and no matter how many promises are made to disarm against one another; we will never have a true cease-fire as long as you hold a claim to my throne.”

“You want me to sign away my claim to England.”

Francis pointedly nodded to his mother, reminding her that a decision regarding the subject had already been made, warning her to hold her tongue and for once in her life, obey.

“It is your intent to become England’s Queen that made us rivals in the first place.”

Mary bit back her retort; there was no point in trying to explain her circumstances. The only reason she had declared her intention in such a manner was to bring the French nobility to her side, so that they would support Francis and they could be rid of his mad father.

“As long as you hold a blood claim to my throne, we can never have true amity.”

“What’s to stop England from going back on their word and invading the second I sign away my claim and we disarm?”

When you disarm your opponent shoots you.

Mary had been indignant when her uncle had offered up those words of wisdom but after experiencing her enemies thanking her kindness with betrayal, she realised that Christian de Guise was right.

“You don’t trust me? I am the one who made the first move towards peace.”

“You are trying to fix a peace that your father shattered in the first place. We may share blood but we are not family, you have given me no reason to trust you.”

“What my wife is trying to say is that we need an insurance, something substantial to show us that relinquishing the claim to England will not end badly for us. We are royalty and we do not have the luxury of placing blind trust upon anyone, I am sure you can understand.”

After a long time of silently observing the debate between his wife and her cousin, the King of France jumped in with his own two cents in an attempt to ease the rising tension in the room.

“I can understand cautiousness, you would be fools not to have reservations. Which is why in exchange for giving up your claim, I am prepared to offer you something much more valuable.”

“Do not do this Elizabeth.”

Lord William whispered as he stood beside his Queen but she disregarded his warnings with a shake of her head.

“As I am sure you have heard that in the time since my coronation, I have refused to take a husband. While my reasons are my own the result is this; I will never marry and never sire children. I need an heir and a male heir will be much more preferable.”

Mary and Francis exchanged confused looks; the rest of the room’s occupants were just as lost. Elizabeth had only shared her plan with Lord William and Lord Dudley, even the old men of her Privy Council were unaware because she was certain that they wouldn’t stand for such a decision.

“I must confess cousin; I do not follow…”

“You have three sons and I have none. What I am saying is that if you sign away your claim to my throne, I am prepared to make your son heir to England.”

“What?”

Mary’ gasp of bewilderment left her breathless as the entire chamber fell into chaos. This was something she had never anticipated, even in her wildest dreams Mary could never imagine that Elizabeth would offer the throne to her child. That she would ever hand over the Tudor dynasty to a Stuart or a Valois, for her sons were both.

“Enough!”

Francis’s voice boomed over the din and he turned to the English Queen.

“Is this a joke?”

Elizabeth shook her head.

“Not at all, your grace. I am very serious; agree to my terms and your second born son; the Duke of Rothsay shall become the Prince of Wales. Your son will one day be King Edward; first of his name of a united England and Scotland. My father’s dream of a united kingdom achieved without bloodshed.”

“Why would you do this? Hand over your family legacy? The Tudor dynasty will end with you if Edward becomes your heir.”

Mary’s voice was soft but it still reverberated throughout the chambers.

“I have every intention of living a long life, Queen Mary, when I die I want to be remembered as more that just the daughter of Henry Tudor. So, it doesn’t matter what House succeeds me, Tudor or Stuart.”

 “Alright. I agree to your terms and will relinquish my claim to the English throne and instead; my son, Prince Edward Alexander of the royal houses of Stuart and Valois will be the successor to both our countries.”

Mary nodded towards her cousin, a small smile blooming on her lips.

“There is one more thing; if Prince Edward is to rule England he must have the support of the nobility. Which is why I suggest that his future Queen be of English blood.”

“My children’s marriages will be arranged by their parents, Queen Elizabeth.”

Francis cut in but his wife’s hand on his arm prevented him from saying anything else.

“Is there anything else you wish to add cousin?”

“Yes. The prince will have an investiture as the Prince of Wales when he is eight years old, after which he will be tutored in matters of state by a tutor chosen by myself.”

“We can discuss the details of it later then.”

And so, it was decided that the final peace accord will be drafted that very evening in the presence of the advisors to all three monarchs. That night, a state banquet will be held for the public signing of the treaty that will change the history of Europe forever. Both Queens were satisfied with the way the negotiations had gone. Elizabeth had the security of a stable reign while Mary finally had the chance to heal her country from the destruction of such a long war. The King and Queen of France and Scotland would leave England with more than they had expected, for even if they wouldn’t rule their son would be King of England and that was enough for them.

Of course there was still mistrust between the nations. This was why a condition was added to the peace accord that should either side break any of the terms it would be seen as a declaration of war. Their crown and their life would be forfeit, with the wronged party having every right to invade or retaliate in any way that they saw fit. While Mary held the hope that the peace would last for generations, Francis had no intention of risking his family’s future or their countries’ security on the promise of a fickle queen.

Chapter Text

Holyroodhouse, Edinburgh

The next six months passed by in a flurry of activity. After the treaty with England had been finalised, the English soldiers retreated from the Scottish borders along with their navy. It gave Scotland the chance to freely trade with the rest of the world without fear of English attacks. That combined with the war reparations, made for a very positive impact on Scotland’s state of affairs. There was much work to be done to settle the internal conflicts of their nation. For the government and the monarchs, it felt like they hadn’t had time to take a single breath since June. It was December now and the French members of the Court were now realising what true cold was, the winters in France were nowhere near as chilling as those in Scotland. The children in particular were vulnerable to the chill and Mary had to force her little ones in the thickest layers to prevent them from catching an illness.

Today in particular was a very special day for the King and Queen of Scotland. The King had finally put his foot down and asked for an extended leave from duties for the coming days. Which was why it was well past sunrise and the husband and wife were still in bed.

Mary was huddled under the thick fur blankets and snoring softly, unaware of her husband’s heated touches on her body. He had woken moments before and the sight of the enchanting woman left him unable to reign in his desires. The Queen woke with a breathless gasp to her husband’s mouth between her legs. Her cries of pleasure ringing beautifully throughout their bedchambers. Francis pulled back the blankets to reveal himself, his dishevelled hair and moist lips making his activities very obvious.

“What an interesting way to wake up, husband.”

His mouth curved into a smirk at her flushed cheeks and heaving chest.

“You looked so soft and tempting, I simply couldn’t resist.”

He shifted up to lie beside her, pulling her into his embrace.

“Well, I am not complaining at all. You can wake me up like this anytime you want.”

“I figured today is too special to begin ordinarily.”

Mary cocked an eyebrow at her husband’s cheeky tone.

“And what pray tell is special about today?”

Francis’s mouth fell open, aghast at her question.

“Queen Mary I am truly disappointed in you. How could you forget the happiest day of your life?”

“I wouldn’t say the happiest...”

“Such blasphemy!”

Mary giggled at her husband’s overdramatic expression.

“... I am only joking. Of course, I remember what today is. Can you imagine it’s already been three years?”

Francis pulled her into a soft and lingering kiss.

“Three years since the day you changed my life. Because not only did you become my wife but you also told me that I was to be a father. I am so utterly blessed to have you and our beautiful boys.”

“Oh Francis! You’re making me tear up.”

“I consider myself the luckiest man in the world to have the family, the life that we have created together. You are the love of my life.”

Mary buried her head against his chest to hide her tears and ridiculous grin. She tipped her head to meet his enchanting cerulean eyes.

“Just as you are mine... I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how lucky I am to be your wife. I never want to be away from you.”

His lips hovered over hers, his warm breath tickling her skin and his pupils blown wide.

“Then don’t...”

He closed the distance between them, shifting his body so that she was pressed against the mattress with his weight. His hands leaving goosebumps along her skin as his fingers caressed her thighs. Francis wasted no time in pulling off her nightgown, he then shifted his attention to her sensitive breasts.

“Francis...”

“Yes my love?”

“Stop teasing.”

Mary stole another kiss before he got to removing his breaches. He settled between her legs and covered them both with the blankets to keep them warm. It was lucky that they did because no sooner did Francis lean for another kiss that the adjoining doors to the children’s nursery opened with a bang.

Francis and Mary fumbled to cover themselves whilst they dressed hurriedly. The newcomers jumped on the bed with no regard to their parents’ privacy or any propriety. Not that such a thing could be expected of two boys merely months away from their third birthday. The Dauphin of France and the Duke of Rothesay wore matching grins while they watched their parents.

“Good morning, Mama!”

Little James sang while he crawled into his mother’s open arms.

“My little star! What are the two of you doing without Nanny Hannah?”

Mary pointedly arched an eyebrow at her toddlers, James hid his face against her shoulder to avoid her while Edward simply flashed his baby blue eyes with an innocent smile. The heir to England and Scotland snuggled with his father, their matching curls equally messed up.

“Baby Will was crying Mama, we told him to stop but he not hear. Jamie said to tell you.”  

Mary frowned in response to Edward’s admission, hopping off the bed and reached for her coat without wasting any time. She entered the nursery through the adjoining doorway to find that her youngest child had fallen asleep. The tear tracks on his cheeks making it evident that the poor boy had been crying and it made guilt well up in her. Her and Francis were so lost in each other that they failed to hear their son calling out for them. Their duties had become so taxing that they barely had time to spare for their family or for each other, they were in desperate need of a break.

Mary’s irritation flared when the new nanny entered the nursery from the main doors. Miss Hannah was suggested by Lady Crawford when Mary suggested that Nanny Josephine help Greer with her newborn Rose Castletroy. The Lady Castletroy had given birth only a week prior and although the family knew that her daughter was not in fact her husband’s, Catherine and Leith had been sent to convince Aloysius to claim the child as his own. No one in Scotland knew of the state of Greer’s marriage and thankfully the little girl didn’t look much like her father except for her copper skin. The little girl was beautiful and William was fascinated with the prospect of another baby in the palace.

“Where are my twins, Hannah?”

 The blonde-haired young woman stilled when she entered the large chambers to find the beds empty, her green eyes widening in fear when she realised that her Queen was standing near the crib, her youngest prince in her arms.

“Forgive me, your majesty. I simply went out to fetch their breakfasts, they must have sneaked out.”

Mary glared sharply at her empty hands.

“Your job is to look after my sons, to never let them out of your sight. You could have asked a guard to call for breakfast, I do not care where you were but Prince William cried himself to sleep because he was left unattended. Prince James and Prince Edward came to our chambers to tell us that you were nowhere to be found.”

The girl was Mary’s age and yet held such naivety that it frustrated the Queen to no end, she wanted to be kind to all her subjects but it was difficult to forgive when it came to her children.

“I am so sorry, my Queen. It will never happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t; now come.”

Mary gestured Hannah to follow her back to her chambers. William needed to be nursed and the twins had to wrestled out of their sleepwear and into something appropriate for the day. The scene that they returned to was nothing short of hilarious. The king was in nothing but his breaches and was laughing as he wrestled with two very naked boys. Mary looked in partial amusement and horror at the state of her bed, Hannah on the other hand was beet red as it was the first time she had seen her monarch in such a state of undress.

“Boys! What is the meaning of this?”

Mary’s voice broke through their noise. Three faces turned to her with sheepish grins, Francis noticed the presence of his sons’ nanny and immediately reached for his robe on the bedpost.

“Nannah!”

James and Edward jumped on their nanny in enthusiasm, nearly knocking the lady to the ground. Mary shared an amused glance with her before giving her instructions.

“Get them dressed, would you? And send for breakfast in the family parlour, the king and I will join you shortly.”

As soon as Hannah left with the twins, Mary woke her youngest for feeding time. The little boy suckled eagerly while his chubby hands gripped his mother’s flesh.

“Why were you so upset my sweet boy?”

A while later, Francis emerged from the adjoining bathing chambers, dressed smartly and ready for the day.

“Could you call for my maids to help me get ready?”

She asked her husband, watching with a smile as he immediately alerted the guards to her request.

“I was thinking, seeing as we have taken a leave from court for a few days, that we could spend the next few days at our country house. Just you and I, away from the court and with nothing to do but make love.”

“That sounds heavenly…”

They had a country estate near the village of Rosslyn, it was surrounded with deep forests and beautiful streams, making it the perfect retreat. Even if the winter was harsh and the scenery painted white and green because of the light snow.

“We will leave tomorrow at first light so start packing. I have no intention of letting you sleep this weekend wife.”

Francis’s cheeky remark earned him a cuff on the shoulder, his laughing ringing throughout the corridors as he left her.

An hour after breakfast found Mary in Greer’s chambers, fawning over her beautiful baby girl.

“Greer, she has your hair and your eyes.”

The Queen cooed when Rose yawned at her godmother, when Greer had asked her to be the godmother to her child, Mary was overcome with emotion. Now she had two godchildren, Jean and Rose.

“It’s a good thing that she does, we can dismiss the colour of her skin but anything else would be very suspicious.”

“Has Lord Castletroy made any other attempts to contact you?”

“Not really, he says he wishes to settle back into a routine with his daughters before even thinking of following me here.”

Mary went to sit beside her friend on the window seat, placing an arm around her shoulders in a comforting manner.

“I am so sorry that we couldn’t do more to protect your family when those ledgers were leaked.”

Greer jerked away from her; eyes filled with remorse.

“Don’t ever apologise to me for that, my husband and I unknowingly funded an attack that killed your child, that ruined your marriage.”

“You mustn’t blame yourself Greer, terrible men took advantage of your kindness and that’s despicable.”

“But everything that happened between you and Francis and Conde, none of that would have happened were it not for us. Even after all that you helped me secure my daughter’s future.”

Mary held Greer’s hand, squeezing it in reassurance.

“It’s been two years since my attack and I have put the past behind me. I have learned that I am the sum of my own choices, not someone else’s crimes. I am happy with my marriage, my family and my life. I have forgiven you Greer; perhaps it’s time for you to forgive yourself.”

Mary watched her friend fall apart in tears before her eyes, she pulled her into a heartfelt embrace while baby Rose cooed at being squished between the two. They released their hold when they heard Lola enter the chambers with a cheerful greeting. Lady Narcisse had refused to return to France with her husband following the Peace Conference, while she didn’t reveal the details of her estrangement, Mary and Greer could guess that Stephane had done something to hurt his wife. Lola and Jean had been staying at Holyrood Palace with the rest of Mary’s household. The Queen was ecstatic to be reunited with her ladies once more and the twins loved having their half-brother’s company again.

“Is everything alright?”

Lola frowned at the teary eyes of both her friends.

“Just getting emotional over this bundle of joy.”

Greer sniffed; Lola smiled in agreement as she joined them on the window seat.

“You are lucky to have a girl Greer, I love Jean but I feel like boys are too much of a handful. I truly feel for their nannies.”

Mary nodded along with Lola.

“I cannot argue with you there. Did you know they barged into our chambers this morning? Francis and I were both very naked… we haven’t had sex in four months because of their habit of sneaking into our room whenever they want.”

With the state of Scotland, they were so busy these past few months that the time they did have was dedicated to their sons. That coupled with their surprised nightly visitors left Mary and Francis with not a moment to themselves.

“Neither of us has had any luck with intimacy either.”

Lola countered, seeing as she hadn’t shared a room with her husband in seven months, she hadn’t been intimate either.

“But neither of us are in a happy marriage… it is absolutely sinful for you to suffer too.”

“You’re right Greer, this is why I need your help packing the most scandalous garments for our trip to Rosslyn. I am hoping that our time away will be the spark we desperately need.”

“Oh, the Scottish countryside is so stunning, Francis will adore it.”

Lola gushed.

“If he leaves the bed that is.”

“Greer!”

Mary admonished, her attention then diverted by the fussing of her goddaughter and she quickly handed her to her mother.

“Looking at Rose makes me want a daughter too.”

The way Francis had looked when he held Rose for the first time made her want to give him a princess so badly. He would be a perfect father to any girls they had.

“Talk to Francis, I am sure he would love nothing more than to get you pregnant again.”

The three women laughed at the suggestive tone that Greer used. They were soon interrupted by a message from the king.

“Francis wants to discuss something in our study, he says it’s urgent.”

“I’m sure it is.”

Lola smirked while Mary made her way to leave, her ladies were so immature sometimes.

“No! Absolutely not! Francis you promised that we were done.”

Mary had her arms crossed while her eyes blazed with fury. Her husband had just told her that he had to meet a Protestant Clan Leader to smooth over a growing revolt.

“Clan McFie are becoming dangerous and seeing as their lands span the coastline, their betrayal could once again halt our shipping lanes after we worked so hard to renew the trade routes with the rest of Europe.”

“But why do you have to go in person? Send an envoy.”

“Knox says they have always been disgruntled by Marie de Guise and feel that we are simply carrying out her policies. I want to hear them out and assure them that we are not Catholic extremists.”

Mary scowled and shook her head when Francis pulled her close. His lips pressed kisses along her hairline.

“I will be back before nightfall at the latest; we will leave for Rosslyn tomorrow as planned. This will only take a few hours and I won’t be alone; James is coming with me.”

“My brother has agreed to accompany you?”

“He is a prominent protestant lord; it makes the most sense to have him at my side while I negotiate.”

“If you don’t come back to me safely, you can rely on your hand for the rest of the year.”

Francis laughed at her threat until her straight face made him realise that she was very serious.

“I would be a fool to disobey my wife on our anniversary.”

“This is all your fault!”

James Stuart, 1^st Earl of Moray snarled at his brother-in-law while he tugged on the ropes binding his wrists together.

“How do you figure that? You were the one that was supposed to know how to handle him. How could I expect such a betrayal?”

Francis snarked back, his own hands were tied behind his back.

“I was handling him! You were the one who went feral and declared Evander a traitor to Scotland.”

“He is a traitor to Scotland! If his plans of espionage weren’t enough, he set this whole meeting to kidnap us.”

When King Francis and Lord Moray had entered the meeting chambers of the McFie estate, they were greeted by Lord Evander McFie and his twelve sons. The meeting seemed to start off well, the Clansmen were agreeable and not at all the barbarians that Knox’s reports had made them out to be. Sure; they were less courtly than Frenchmen but the Scottish rarely ever cared for such frivolities. James and Francis managed to charm them into a peaceful solution in a matter of hours. And after a delightful lunch, the King and his delegation were ready to return to Holyroodhouse.

It was only after lunch that they realise how sluggish they felt had nothing to do with their afternoon meal. Being the son of Catherine de Medici, made it so that he could identify the effects of various poisons and herbs; if only he had recognised the taste of that particular hypnotic. He could remember the sneer on Evander’s face as he promised retribution for the Crown’s decisions against his actions. That’s when Francis had lashed out at him, he’d punched the old man straight in his face and broke his nose before declaring him a traitor. That was the last thing he remembered before waking up in a dark and damp wooden box.

“At least I landed a good hit before they caught us.”

“Congratulations then; how do we get out of here? Where are we anyways?”

There was a rustling sound that could only come from waves hitting the shore, the smell of salt and the humidity solidified the theory that they were somewhere very close to the coast.

“We must be near their beach outposts.”

James hummed in agreement. The two men sat in silence for a while, the only sound was the grunts that left them as they tried and failed to untie themselves.

“Why don’t you like me, James?”

James scoffed at the sudden question.

“Do you truly think this the best time for a heart to heart?”

In the darkness of their captivity, the younger of the two smiled to himself at his brother-in-law’s prickly attitude.

“Now’s a good time as any. We need to be able to trust each other if we have any hope of making out of here in one piece and we cannot do that if we don’t share our grievances.”

“I dislike you because you are an arrogant brat who has somehow convinced my sister that you’re the second coming of Jesus.”

“Wow! Don’t hold back at all brother.”

“Stop mocking me!”

Francis sighed; he could feel a headache coming in.

“James, I love your sister and I am loyal to her cause.”

The Earl let out a sardonic bark of laughter.

“Love and loyalty; is that why you locked her in a tower to prevent her from returning home with me?”

Francis cringed at the reminder of that particular mistake; he had been waiting for James to bring it up from the moment he arrived in Scotland.

“That was an overreaction stemming from fear and I regret it. I learned of a plot to assassinate my pregnant wife on her voyage home and I did the only thing that came to my mind. It was irrational and reckless; I apologise for offending you by my actions.”

“That is what I’m talking about; you use flowery words to make hollow oaths and it makes you seem above reproach when you are simply a selfish man.”

Francis’s eyes widened as he finally caught on to the true issue. James had hated him even before they met for the first time in France, it had nothing to do with the incident he was mentioning but something far older.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but is it possible that you envy me?”

“Envy you? Have you lost your mind? I would never envy you!”

There was another pause in conversation before James mustered up the courage to spill the truth.

“I was a bastard living in the home of my father by his favour and Marie de Guise despised me. She knew the only woman who father loved besides his first wife was my mother and she resented my presence in her life. I used to try so hard to get her to soften towards me, to earn her favour but that was all for naught.”

James inhaled loudly; this conversation would be so much easier with a bottle of scotch.

“When Mary was born, father was away at war with Henry Tudor and I felt a sense of responsibility for the baby. Then father fell in battle and my newborn baby sister was Queen of Scotland, Marie de Guise as her regent. I have always loved Mary and in my youth, I believed that Marie would respect me for it but I was still barely tolerated at court.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

James turned his head to where Francis was tied.

“When Marie secured the auld alliance, she became fixated on you. She had only known you for a few days and already she showed you; a seven-year-old child more respect than she’d ever shown me. I hated you and everything you represented way before I met you, then you treated me like an enemy and my decision was made. You truly were as entitled as I believed you to be.” 

“I don’t know what to say… I knew Marie was difficult but this? Mary has never made Jean feel like he was a mistake or that he was unwanted in our home.”

“That is because my sister is far better than her mother.”

“She is so much more than that.”

James could hear the warmth in Francis’s voice as he spoke about his wife.

“I do apologise for holding on to old grudges. I let my prejudices cloud my judgement and now we trapped in a box with no escape.”

“I am sorry too, for antagonising you when I should have tried harder to make amends.”

 Sometime during their conversation, the two men had managed to shift and scoot on the muddy floor. While their wrists and feet were bound together, they were free to roll around in the small prison. Francis flinched when he felt a shard of glass cut the skin of his palm, he could feel his skin inflame with the injury as the scent of blood impregnated the air around them.

“Are you bleeding? Francis where the hell did you cut yourself?”

But the King was too busy grasping at the pointy object that cut his skin. The shard that he found was jagged and as long as a letter opener, someone must’ve broken a bottle here at some point. He used the glass to free his hands from the ropes, a cry of triumph echoed through when he succeeded.

“What in the world? How did you do that, you annoying genius.”

“Shut up James.”

Once Francis had untied his legs, he rushed to help James but as soon as he’d freed him, footsteps sounded outside their door.

“Evander says they sent a rider to the castle, any moment now the Queen will demand the prisoners.”

“Why do we have to check on them? Why couldn’t Glen do it?”

“Glen is a drunken idiot, you fool.”

Francis and James prepared to fight the men, their only weapon was that shard of glass but James was a capable boxer and he could hold out in a fight. They stood flat against the walls so that once the door opened, they wouldn’t be seen. The two clansmen entered the wooden box with their swords drawn.

“Where are they? Evander will murder us!”

The men were bulky and clearly strong fighters. Francis pounced on the one closest to him, with as much force as he could muster, he stabbed him in the neck. It gave him just enough time to take his sword while James wrestled the second man. Francis made quick work of the man he had incapacitated before moving to kill the man who had James in a headlock. He helped his brother-in-law to his feet before handing him the extra sword.

“Thanks, I didn’t know you were a good fighter.”

“I wasn’t always but I learned quickly.”

James opened the door completely to step outside, it was well past nightfall. Which meant that they had been away for the entire day.

“Mary is going to have my head.”

Francis bemoaned as he’d promised his wife that he would return before nightfall.

“We should find their horses; they certainly wouldn’t have travelled on foot.”

Francis followed James into the forest, a pair of horses were tied to a tree just as the Earl had predicted. Without wasting any time, the two men straddled their stolen steads and made the journey back home.

Their return to Holyrood Palace was filled with cries of relief and teary reunions. James was surprised at his sister’s speed as she became a blur, leaping into her husband’s arms the instant they entered the foyer. The poor man had almost fallen to the floor trying to catch her. She then turned her attention to him, pulling him into a crushing hug.

“We were all so worried about you. When you didn’t return and then a message came from Clan McFie… mark my words I will make Evander suffer for this.”

Mary’s furious rant lasted for a while and it was only when Greer mentioned that the two men were dead on their feet that she relented. Lady Greer escorted James to his chambers to help him should he need assistance while the King followed his wife.

The maids had drawn a steaming bath in the time it had taken to reach the royal wing. Mary gently helped her husband undress from his torn and dirty garments. Every single muscle in Francis’s body ached and when the high of the fight died down, his throbbing hand reminded him that he was still bleeding. James had helped him wrap the injury but a piece of muddy linen was not the best bandage. When Mary saw her husband flinch, her gaze immediately scanned his naked form before it landed on his left hand.

“My god Francis! You’re hurt… how did this happen?”

“I accidentally brushed against a piece of glass but then I used it to cut our binds so it was for the best.”

She pursed her lips because while she was furious at his nonchalance, she didn’t want to pick a fight after such an exhausting day.  Mary helped him into the bathtub and watched him hiss when the hot water soothed his tense body. She walked over to the linen closet to find a proper bandage for his hand. Once Francis was washed and his injury bandaged, they returned to the comfort of their bed where a steaming hot meal was waiting. The King ate the hearty meal in silence, while Mary quietly gave him an account of the day.

“I am sorry for missing our anniversary.”

“Francis don’t be ridiculous. You were kidnapped, betrayed by one of our clans. I will find a way to punish them so brutally that even their grandchildren will feel my ire.”

He smiled at her protectiveness and leaned forward to capture her lips in a passionate and lingering kiss, leaving both of them breathless.

“You are so strong… my beautiful warrior queen.”

“I was so terrified… I haven’t felt such terror since the night Delphine revived you.”

He shifted so that he could pull her to sit in his lap, her head instantly came to rest on his shoulder while he held her in his arms.

“Shhh… it’s alright, I’m unharmed. I came back safely and they didn’t hurt me at all. In fact, I broke Evander’s nose, I bet it’s crooked now.”

 Mary broke out in giggles at the pride in his voice.

“We should get some sleep if we want to leave early tomorrow.”

She frowned at his words.

“Shouldn’t we stay and fix the mess with Clan McFie?”

Francis shook his head.

“No, it will be there when we get back. I promised you a weekend of relaxation and lovemaking, and that is what I’ll do.”

Mary was so overcome with love for her husband in that moment, he was injured and bone tired from a terrible ordeal yet still he was keeping his promise to her. The way Francis loved her always seemed to humble her and she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out the words that she’d kept in all day.

“I want a daughter!”

“What?”

He blinked in bewilderment at the sudden change of subject.

“It’s just that seeing Greer with Rose reminded me that we talked about our future daughter the day you almost died. How we’d name her Anne and she would be the apple of your eye. I want that for us… more than anything.”

“If you wanted me to impregnate you, you only had to ask, my love.”

She smacked his shoulder playfully.

“Be serious Francis.”

“I am; I would love nothing more than to have another baby, a girl would be a great blessing.”

Mary grinned at his response, pulling him into another searing kiss.

“I was thinking we could use our weekend to get started.”

“That is a most judicious proposition, my queen.”

Francis pulled the covers over them both; tomorrow would be the beginning of a long weekend and it would be so much more fruitful if they were both well rested.

Chapter Text

Edinburgh Castle, Scotland

Days turned into weeks, which turned into months and before they all knew, the seasons changed so rapidly that it was finally August. The first half of 1562 went by smoothly with no new schemes or dangers, at least in Scotland. The Clan McFie did manage to evade punishment by abandoning their lands to escape Scotland and while Mary was sure that they were across the border in English lands, her letters to Elizabeth didn’t help them much. France was in a bit of a turmoil; Catherine was facing opposition from a rebel group calling themselves the Red Knights and just like their name, they were out for blood. The weekly reports were getting more and more concerning, Francis couldn’t help but wonder if the only solution was to remove his mother from the regency.

“Your Grace?”

The King was snapped out of his contemplation by Lord Hamilton. He straightened in his seat to observe the concerned gazes of the Privy Council members. Today’s meeting was to discuss the upcoming Highland Games and the end of season crop yields.

“Apologies my lords, my mind seemed to have drifted off. If you could remind me what we were discussing?”

The new Royal Treasurer; Lord Ruthven began to speak.

“With the Games inviting so many clansmen, nobles and commoners; where will the crown find funds for a heavy enough security?”

Francis’s eyes met his brother’s across the room, even though he was Catholic, Lord Ruthven was a noble supporting Knox’s anti-female monarchy agenda which made the Frenchmen less eager to trust in his sincerity.

“My Deputy and I have discussed the security in careful detail my lord, nothing will penetrate our defences.”

“What about Evander and his men? Have you made any headway in finding them?”

Lord Fife jumped in the conversation after a long time of observation.

“The Queen’s guard have been searching the borders and the countryside, they are experts at finding runaways, Clan McFie will be found and punished; I assure you.”

Lord Balfour, a Protestant clan leader and politician, added his own unsolicited advice.

“Perhaps if we had a princess to wed to one of his many sons, we might have reached a peaceful solution.”

The Earl of Moray snorted at the idea that Francis or Mary would sell their daughter to a rebel for an easy peace.

“Even if we did have a daughter, she would not be used as collateral to fix her parents’ problems.”

“Speaking of daughters my king, my daughter informed me that the Queen has been struggling to get pregnant for months. Is it possible that she might be too old for such a task?”

Lord Crawford had only just finished his statement when Francis stood up from his seat with clenched fists and hardened eyes.

“This meeting is adjourned.”

Without wasting another moment, he stormed out of the Privy Council chambers with his brothers hot on his heels. James and Bash were equally furious at the protestant noble, to discuss the Queen’s private affairs at a meeting in such a way was ghastly.

“Your majesty please listen to me!”

Crawford had hastened to catch up with them.

“What else is there to say? You insulted my wife, your Queen without any thought to how offensive it was.”

Francis was itching to do something violent; it was bad enough that he saw Mary’s despair every time her monthly bleeding came as per normal, the last thing they needed was nobles involving themselves in their personal affairs.

“I merely wished to express concern and offer advice.”

“And what is your advice, Lord Crawford?”

James tried to keep the bitterness away but he had a feeling the lord knew that he was on thin ice.

“A mistress like the late King James kept. Royal bastards can rise high in station, the Earl of Moray and Duke of Blois are proof of that.”

The man mentioned James and Bash’s titles respectively.

“Enough! I have no intention of keeping a mistress and if I hear anyone mention it ever again, especially where the Queen can hear, there will be consequences.”

Francis wished he could have his tongue for that.

“Of course… please excuse me.”

Francis watched the man retreating and turned his attention to James.

“His daughter… what is her name? Have I met her?”

“Lady Beatrice Crawford… she’s one of the ladies you danced with on William’s first birthday.”

“So, the man has a vested interest in urging me to take a mistress.”

“Brother you cannot let this reach Mary’s ears, she will be devasted by it.”

“I know Bash… and I won’t, she has enough on her plate as it is. Mary doesn’t need any more stress.”

This was the first time in their relationship that Mary and Francis had to try for a baby. James and Edward were complete surprises and while they did not expect to conceive William so quickly, they hadn’t been preventing it either. For the past six months, every time Mary would think that they had conceived a child, her bleeding would return with extreme vengeance. Her flows were always heavy and unbearably painful. Today when Francis had woken to bloody sheets, he had rushed to the bathing chambers to find his wife crying in her bath. He couldn’t do much to sooth her and he wasn’t sure how much of her pain was emotional and how much was physical.

These were the thoughts that played in his mind during the horse ride back to Holyrood Palace. His wife was spending the afternoon in the garden with her ladies and their children, the warmth of the summer sun seemed to be the perfect remedy for the queen’s aching muscles. His three-year-old twins abandoned their toys and broke into a sprint when they saw him, Jean too busy indulging in pastries to notice his presence.

“Papa, we ate lots of biscuits.”

 James announced the second he was in his father’s arms, both boys clutching tightly to his neck.

“They had chocolate in them, so yummy.”

Francis grinned at Edward’s ever-growing love for all things chocolate. He reached his thumb to wipe away the chocolate staining his cheek.

“I can see that buddy… did you boys save some for me?”

Jamie wiggled out of his grip so Francis set him down, letting his eldest pull him to the picnic blanket. He greeted his wife with a soft kiss, scanning her face for any sign of distress. When he was satisfied that his wife’s smile was genuine, he knelt down to sit beside her on the blanket, smile widening at Jean’s glee at finally noticing his presence. He watched fondly as Greer helped William hold the six-month-old Rose Castleroy. The little girl had only just learned to sit up and wiggle around if left unattended, the gentle way the boys played with her made Francis all the more eager to see his sons with their sister. While he was aware that children were not really in their hands but simply blessings that their Lord would bestow on them whenever he chose, it frustrated him to no end that it was taking so long.

A while after their tea outside, the adults had to disperse to attend to their duties, Francis tried to follow after his wife but was stopped by Lola.

“Do you have a moment? It’s important…”

“Alright?”

With a confused frown, Francis allowed his son’s mother to lead him to an isolated edge of the palace grounds.

“I don’t think we should be here… if we’re caught together by someone… these rumours won’t help our situation.”

“I don’t care about that… this is much more important than appearances. This is about Mary.”

That caught his attention and he immediately stepped closer to hear her lowered voice.

“Lola is something wrong?”

“Have you noticed her acting strange recently? Detached? Quick to anger?”

“We’ve been trying to have a baby and it’s not going very well. The entire court knows and the pressure is getting to her… of course she’s acting differently. She’s depressed.”

Francis tried to reign in the defensiveness in his tone but the way Lola flinched made him realise that he hadn’t succeeded.

“I am not trying to diminish her pain but it’s more than that. She mentions things to us that she doesn’t to you.”

“Mary and I have no secrets.”

“Did she tell you that she talks to someone who’s not there? I’ve caught her murmuring in corners of the palace and she has full conversations with someone.”

A sickening feeling of dread crept up his spine, colour began to fade from Francis’s cheeks and he whispered hoarsely.

“She’s talking to ghosts? Who does she talk to Lola? Tell me!”

“Are you familiar with the name; Desiree?”

Horror crossed the king’s features and he reached for the nearest bench for support before he fell to his knees. Not understanding the importance of the name, Lola moved to sit beside him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Desiree was the name Mary wanted to give the baby we lost because we were all convinced that she would be a girl.”

The baby that his choices, Narcisse’s manipulations and Severin’s cruelty took from them.

“Why is she seeing her dead child?”

“The last person in my family to see the dead lost his mind because he was being poisoned by the Bible of all things.”

Realisation dawned on Lola and the memories of the late King Henry and his madness came flooding back.

“Is Mary being poisoned?”

“I will run an investigation with Bash, whoever is causing Mary’s illness will beg for death when I find them.”

If his wife truly was being poisoned like his father then it could be the cause of their recent infertility and if that proves to be true, then he will not hold back while punishing the person responsible.  

When Francis returned to their chambers that evening to wash up and change for supper, someone was already there, shifting through the contents of his armoire. His hand shifted to the pommel of his sword, he was still jumpy after his meeting with Bash and everything that Lola disclosed about his wife’s recent behaviour. He was just about to draw his sword when the lady turned around, she jumped in a fright when she saw him, the tunic in her hand dropping to the floor.

“Your Grace! I apologise for the intrusion; the queen asked me to lay out your clothes for the evening.”

 Francis soon recognised the girl as his sons’ nanny; Miss Hannah. She had been a great help to his wife in the recent months; the boys loved her and eagerly spent their time with Nannah, it gave Mary the break she needed. If she was being poisoned then it explained so many of her symptoms, her lethargy, her impatience and the severity of her monthly bleeds.

“It’s quite alright Hannah… I actually wanted to thank you for all you’ve done to help my family since your arrival at court.”

An embarrassed blush bloomed on her pale cheeks at the unexpected praise.

“There’s no need for such words… I am happy to serve you.”

“Well then, we will have to pay you in the form of a raise. I will discuss it with Mary.”

A demure smile appeared on Hannah’s lips and she raised her eyes to meet his bright blue ones.

“I am utterly thankful for the chance to be near you… I am honoured to be a part of your household King Francis.”

The breathless way in which she said his name made Francis pause but before he could read much into her manner, the doors to the bedchambers opened and Mary walked in. She frowned and narrowed her eyes at the sight of her husband and the nanny. Hannah quickly shuffled out to leave the two of them alone.

“I heard that you spent the entire day locked up in your office with Bash.”

Mary’s voice was sharp as it usually was lately and Francis knew to proceed with caution.

“It was to discuss the security of the Castle during the Highland Games, with Evander still not found, the Privy Council are not willing to take any chances with our safety, and neither am I?”

“Is there anything else mentioned during the meeting? I don’t really believe that the Council would miss the chance to talk about me behind my back.”

Paranoia; one more symptom to add to the list of similarities between Mary’s behaviour and Henry’s.

“Your absence doesn’t change the fact that no one would dare badmouth you in my presence, especially with James and Bash in attendance.”

He moved to sit beside her on the divan, with her back and hips aching, Mary couldn’t bear to stay on her feet too long. Francis cupped her flushed cheeks and brushed away the strands that covered her eyes.

“Forget about the Council. Tell me how you’re feeling, has the herbs helped? Is the pain still terribly unbearable?”

“It still hurts Francis…”

Mary nearly broke down in tears as the whimpers escaped her lips. Her husband pulled her closer into his arms so that she could bury her head against his chest and breathe in his comforting scent.

“Oh, my love! I wish more than anything that I could take your pain.”

“But then you would be suffering.”

Her teary eyes regarded him with a mournful expression, Francis moved his thumb to wipe away the few tears that had slipped past her cheeks.

“I would do anything to make you happy, you know that.”

“I just want a baby so much it hurts.”

“I know… me too.”

“I feel like I’m failing you.”

“Don’t ever think that… do you hear me? It would break my heart to know that you blame yourself for something that is out of our control.”

“But…”

He pressed a finger to Mary’s lips to prevent her from uttering any further blasphemy.

“No buts… and it may not be your body anyways… maybe the problem lies with me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Perhaps I’m not being vigorous enough.”

A giggle left her and before she knew it, she was laughing till her ribs ached. The silly way in which he had said those words made them seem so dirty and inappropriate that she couldn’t help her mirth.

“I want us to have a daughter more than anything but Mary… I don’t make love to you because I want a baby. I want a baby because I love you, because it is what you want.”

“Thank you for saying that, you always know how to lift up my spirits.”

Mary craned her neck to kiss her husband, her arms winding around his neck to hold him close.

“I have a brilliant idea.”

He whispered as he pulled away.

“We should leave our family to enjoy supper without us.”

“And do what exactly?”

Mary smiled at his bright cheeks.

“We should become bed people.”

“What on earth is that?”

“We won’t leave the bed all night. Think about it Mary… huddled up under the covers and eating dinner in bed, we can do nothing but talk until we fall asleep.”

“That sounds lovely.”

She beamed at Francis, feeling so lucky to have a husband who understood her needs and was willing to go to such lengths to make her happy.

The next morning found Mary heading towards her children’s nanny’s chambers. Hannah was absent that morning and the boys had driven their mother to madness with their cries and antics. She was relieved to find her husband not at breakfast, the last thing she needed was James to tell his father that she struck him in a fit of rage.

She didn’t know what came over her but one moment she was trying to force a screaming William into his clothes and the next her eldest son threw a wooden horse in her face to get her attention. The sharp edge hit her cheek, leaving a cut that was already bruised; she knew that it was an accident but Desiree was insistent that the punishment should fit the crime. Thankfully there was no mark on James’s face to prove her loss of control, after how loving Francis was to her, she didn’t want to face his disappointment so soon.

Hannah’s chambers were dark when Mary entered, a few candles were lit near a messed-up bed that suggested that the nanny was no maiden. Clothes were strewn about the floor; men’s garments and a woman’s. Out of curiosity, the queen raised the tunic and breaches entwined with a red lace corset to inspect. She nearly dropped the garments in disbelief as she felt her whole world come crashing down; this was impossible, he would never do something like that. She knew those pieces of clothing, she knew their scent by heart, she could be blind and deaf and she’d know the person who these garments belonged to. For how could she ever fail to recognise her husband?

What was his clothing doing on the floor of Hannah’s bed? Why was Francis in Hannah’s bedchambers? Mary could feel her whole body shaking, her eyes blurry with unshed tears and dark spots appeared at the corner of her vision, her chest heaving with the effort it took to breathe.

A squeal cut through the deafening silence; giggles followed by a splash of water coming from the adjoined bathing chambers.

“Francis stop! It tickles.”

The sound of a man’s laughter followed Hannah’s voice and Mary ran out of the room before anyone could see her. She rushed to the nearest potted plant before she retched, her body shook as she threw up every bit of her breakfast into the soil until her stomach was completely empty. Large and ugly sobs echoed throughout the abandoned hallway as the queen clutched the clay pot as if it were a lifeline.

Sometime later, Mary crept back to her bedchambers to clean up and change her gown. After she felt a bit more human, she made her way to her study. She had a meeting with her brother to discuss the preparations for the Highland Games. While she was at it, perhaps she would start taking power back from her cheating, backstabbing liar of a husband. The entire time James was in her office she was seething with rage. She barely heard a word that he said because she was so busy analysing every moment she had with Francis in the past six months since Hannah came into their lives. She couldn’t believe the nerve of that girl.

Mary thought that when Hannah offered her herbs to help her conceive, she was being a good friend but perhaps she wanted the queen to be fat and bloated with child so that she could steal her husband from her. Oh, how she would delight in watching the traitorous whore be beheaded for her crimes. As soon as James left the study, Mary stood up to reach for the drink cart to pour herself a goblet full of scotch, she was on her fourth glass when the object of her ire walked in like he hadn’t trampled all over her heart merely an hour ago. His bright eyes, wide grin and damp hair-his hair was wet as if he’d taken a bath-made her so mad that she threw the crystal goblet on the floor.

The sound of crystal shattering made Francis jump, he took in her bloodshot eyes and red face and took a step toward her but her harsh voice cut in.

“Where the hell were you?!”

Her scream reverberated through the study. Francis’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I was with Bash going over the security all morning, I told you about it.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

She shrieked, she picked up another goblet, this one was thrown at his head, nearly missing the mark.

“What is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill me?”

“I should kill you! How dare you lie to me? I know you weren’t with Bash.”

Francis tried to make his way to her while dodging the heavy objects she was hurling at him.

“Mary for heaven’s sake stop acting like a lunatic and tell me why you are so angry.”

“I heard you… I went to her chambers and I heard you…”

Her voice broke and a sob escaped her lips, no matter how furious she was, her heartbreak was even greater.

“What are you talking about? Heard me where?”

“How long have you been sleeping with our sons’ nanny? How long have you been having an affair?”

Mary reached for her desk to keep her upright, to stop herself from swaying on her feet. It was funny to see that Francis seemed genuinely confused by the accusation.

“I am not having an affair! Mary why would you ever think like that? I have been nothing but faithful to you from the moment we were wed, I am yours.”

“That’s what you said before you slept with Olivia too. No… I know what I heard… what I saw. Don’t try to deny it, I found your clothes near her bed, I heard you with her.”

Mary’s insistence made Francis realise that perhaps she really did believe what she saw, maybe it was the poison in her system that made her act this way.

“Is this like when you see Desiree? When you talk to her? She must be so beautiful.”

“Who told you about that? It doesn’t matter… I know what I saw… you’re just trying to make my doubt myself. I know Desiree isn’t real but this was, I heard her call out your name and I heard your laugh.”

Francis stepped closer to hold her but she jerked away from him.

“No… I can’t do this.”

She pushed him away and made her way to the door but he caught her arm.

“Where are you going?”

“I am leaving Edinburgh… I can’t stay here with you after what you’ve done.”

“I have done nothing! Mary please… you have to believe me… I would never ever be unfaithful to you.”

She wretched herself free from his grasp and hardened her heart against his tear-filled eyes.

“Then are you saying I’ve gone mad? That I’m seeing things that aren’t there? That I’m like your father? Will you kill me too, for the good of the realm? To protect your people.”

“Mary you are not well… let me help you.”

“I gave you everything I had! I handed my country to you on a silver platter, I have nearly bled to death every month trying to give you a child and still you chose to betray me.”

Francis didn’t know how to get her to stay, to convince her that it was all in her head. When she turned around to leave, he blurted out the only thing that came to mind.

“Leave then… it’s what you do best.”

“What?”

Mary turned around to see that her husband was no longer melancholy, he was furious.

“That’s what you do Mary. Every time things get hard; you push me away and run to someone else. First it was Bash, then Conde, who will you run away with this time wife?”

“How can you say this to me after I caught you with Hannah?”

“I am not the one with a history of abandoning this marriage. What is it about me that makes it so easy to walk away huh? Why am I never enough for you?”

“I knew it! I knew you still blamed me for Conde, so this was revenge then? I had an affair with your cousin so you chose the nanny? How predictable can you get?”

“I did not sleep with anyone!”

Mary shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter, I can’t stay here a moment longer. I am leaving for Linlithgow Palace right now.”

“Mary… we can fix this.”

“No Francis… we can’t. You’ve ruined everything.”

Chapter Text

Chateau de Fontainebleau, France

To the Lord Chancellor of France

Stephane Narcisse

   Upon assessing the reports from my advisors and councilmen, it has come to my attention that the Queen Mother Catherine de Medici is no longer fit to rule in my stead.  As such, I have come to the conclusion that she be removed from her position as Queen Regent of France.

   In place of Queen Catherine, I declare my younger brother, Prince Charles de Valois of age and capable of acting as Regent in my absence. Prince Charles has studied under the tutelage of myself and my godfather for many years, making him a capable leader whilst I rule Scotland.

   As the Lord Chancellor, I charge you with the responsibility of removing the Queen Mother and installing the Prince into regency. I hold complete faith in your ability to guide the new Regent so that he may mend the rift created by Catherine de Medici’s poor judgement.

His Royal Majesty

King Francis II

“Francis you clever bastard.”

He couldn’t believe that there was ever a time when the King was a scared boy who he’d so easily fooled into revealing his greatest secret. Stephane was aware that installing Charles as regent was merely a ploy to keep Catherine in power. The Queen Mother was ridiculously loyal to her son and the fact that she still held guilt over her previous actions made her an ideal regent to carry out Francis’s orders without any argument.

The Lord Chancellor sighed to himself, alone in his office with so much power that he only answered to the King and yet what was it all worth? His wife was so displeased with him that she chose to stay in a different country, his children no longer desired to be in his presence. His only companion was the Queen Mother who was just as lonely as he was.

He couldn’t deny that dealing with the Red Knights with her brought a sense of adventure in his dull life but even that was short lived now that Charles would be the face of the monarchy. He got up from his comfortable chair and strode into the Privy Council chambers where the morning’s meeting would be held. The seats were filled save one, Catherine always did like to make an entrance. He remained standing with a smirk on his face while he waited for Catherine to enter, while he knew what Francis’s real intentions were, it would be very amusing to see the smugness fall off her once she realises that she will no longer have nobles bowing and scrapping before her.

The second that Catherine entered the Privy Council chambers; all the members stood up with thinly veiled disdain. Truth was that no one liked the Queen Mother much and her way of dealing with the threat of the Red Knights didn’t do much to endear the nobility to her. Catherine waltzed into the chambers in her emerald green gown that resembled a snake’s skin and took her seat at the head of the table, motioning for everyone to be seated.

“Lord Chancellor do sit down.”

“Not before giving you a very important message from the king.”

With a satisfied smile, he handed her the resealed envelope with Francis’s royal seal. The Queen Regent opened it with trepidation, whenever Stephane smirked like that something terrible was on the way. She read through the letter and resisted the urge to burn it when it was finished. How could her son do this to her?

“This is preposterous… I am his mother.”

“I’m sorry… what is happening?”

Lord Grenier asked in confusion.

With visible glee, Stephane read the contents of the letter as audibly as he could. The room immediately went in an uproar.

“Prince Charles is a fourteen-year-old boy…”

“Old enough in my eyes…”

“What does he know about ruling?”

“It’s a temporary arrangement… King Francis will return soon enough and it’s not like we don’t hear his responses by messengers.”

“A regent is simply a placeholder at this point…”

“Silence!”

Catherine’s scream cut through the din.

“This is not possible… Francis named me regent and I will rule until he returns.”

“Now he has unnamed you… it’s a royal order and we cannot disobey our King.”

Every man in the chamber agreed with Stephane’s statement. Before Catherine made her leave in a huff, she glared at him.

“Face it; Catherine, you’ve lost.”

Stephane nodded at the previous Queen Regent with a smug smile.

Linlithgow Palace, Scotland

Five days… five days since Mary Stuart left her childhood home to return to her birthplace. Five days since the morning her husband tore out her heart and stomped on it. Five days since she heard her children’s nanny and friend, share a bath with the man she loved more than anything. Mary’s throat ached from crying, her eyes rubbed raw and her skin was unnaturally grey. She rolled over in her bed to meet the person sleeping beside her. The three-year-old girl had her father’s golden curls and nose but the rest of her was all her mother.

“Desiree… sweetheart it’s morning.”

Two amber eyes opened lazily; a yawn left her pouty lips as she curled further into her mother’s embrace.

“No… we must go back to sleep Mama.”

“Come on darling. We have so much to do today, I promised to take you to see the town remember.”

The little girl jumped at the thought of leaving the dark and dreary castle. They were soon interrupted by a knock at the door. Mary’s maidservant opened the door.

“Good morning your grace. Shall I send for your breakfast?”

“Yes that would be lovely, don’t forget to add the strawberry milk for Desiree.”

The maid’s forehead crinkled in confusion.

“Who’s Desiree, my queen?”

“My daughter? She’s right here…”

Mary pointed to the space beside her but frowned when she found just an empty bed.

“I’m sorry, I seemed to still be half asleep.”

When the maid left her alone, she felt the familiar feeling of despair surround her like an ice-cold bath. She was all alone with only her hallucinations to keep her company; she knew that it was irrational to believe that she could speak to the dead but Mary was too lonely to care that she was slowly losing her grip on reality. She could feel her sanity trickle away with every hour that she spent in this mausoleum of a palace but she didn’t wish to return. Perhaps Francis was right to find happiness with another woman, someone less maddening, less broken.

It was midday when her carriage finally arrived at the lovely town of Linlithgow. The warmth of the summer breeze and the sun provided a relief to her after spending days inside. A slow smile spread across her face at the hustle bustle of the market place; children chasing after each other, Scottish folk music being played by an odd-looking group of people and the bright colourful shops in the streets.

Mary steeped out of her carriage and made her way to a sweet shop. She remembered that James once told her that he would sneak away to this market to get an abundance of sweets and pastries. She saw a candied pastry filled with chocolate cream and instantly thought of Edward, how much her precious boy loved the confection. She had wanted to show her family this town, to show them where she was born but that dream couldn’t come true. A tear slipped from her eye and she quickly wiped it away before anyone could see.

“Don’t be sad Mama… I like chocolate too.”

Desiree stood beside her in a pretty yellow frock, perfect for the summer.

“You’re not real… please leave.”

The girl simply smiled and held her mother’s hand, strangely enough she felt real.

“I will never leave you Mama… I love you so much.”

Mary pulled into a hug, her chin resting on her head and she pressed soft kisses to her daughter’s temple.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am.”

Mary shifted to see the shop owner greet her, she was pleased to see a warm old lady with a beaming smile.

“Hello… quite a lovely collection you have… I am having difficulty choosing.”

“How about we give you a selection box with all of our best sellers.”

“That sounds delightful.”

Mary watched in awe as the lady packed the tastiest looking treats.

“I have not seen you before young lady, are you new here?”

“I was born here actually… but I have returned after many years away.”

“In that case… welcome back dearie.”

With a small laugh and grateful smile, Mary accepted the box of treats and gave the lady the coin she was owed. Just when she was about to turn, she felt a tugging on her skirts. A little girl of about two years was looking up at her with reproachful eyes, Mary didn’t know what it was but the girl’s bright green eyes reminded her of someone, like she was supposed to know who she was. Perhaps it was her mind playing tricks on her again.

“How may I help you, little one?”

“You took the last lemon tart.”

Her lips were pursed into a demanding pout that reminded Mary of Kenna when she was being bossy.

“Oh I’m sorry, how about I share some with you?”

The girl stomped her feet and shook her head.

“No… I can’t take things from strangers.”

A giggle threatened to escape Mary and she had to smack her lips together to not show her amusement.

“Freya…”

The shopkeeper scolded the girl with a pointed look.

“But Gammy Annie!”

“No buts girly, where is your mother?”

No sooner had the shopkeeper mentioned Freya’s mother did Mary hear someone calling out the girl’s name with urgency. She squinted her eyes to see where the girl’s mother was, her eyes widened when she finally saw who it was. Dressed in an opulent gown of champagne silk and embedded crystals, caramel brown hair braided to her shoulder was none other than the Duchess of Blois; Lady Kenna de Poitiers.

Mary watched in disbelief as her former lady-in-waiting and sister by marriage rushed forward to embrace her child. This was why Freya looked so familiar to her, the girl’s features and mannerisms were all her mother. Her eyes though, Freya’s eyes were the most brilliant shade of green that she’d only ever see on one person and it wasn’t General Renaude. Mary looked at the child again and she was now even more certain that the child Kenna had was not her lovers, because those eyes were unmistakably Sebastian’s.

“Mary?”

She was shaken out of her thoughts by her former lady.

“Kenna… what are you doing here? I thought you were in Sweden…”

“I was but then my father died and I had to return to manage the estate until my little brother came of age.”

The Viscount Livingston was a staunch supporter of anti-English and anti-Protestant ideology. He was a General in the King’s army before his death and provided immense support to Marie de Guise during her regency. He was an accomplished and ambitious man but a terrible father. Donald Livington’s firstborn child was a daughter that he ignored for the entirety of her childhood. Kenna’s younger brother was born ten years after she was and his birth left her motherless. Donald was neglectful and abusive, a hard man to please. Which would be the reason why Kenna was so attracted to King Henry. Now that her father was dead and she was her brother’s guardian, Kenna must find it easier to breathe at home.

“I completely forgot that the Livington estate was near to Linlithgow Palace.”

Kenna and Mary stared awkwardly at one another for a moment before Kenna had the courage to break the ice.

“Would you like to return home with me? We can have tea and catch up.”

Mary smiled at her childhood friend.

“I would love that.”

Freya chatted with them all the way back to Livington House, some of which Mary understood and some felt like childish blabber. She had yet to mention the girl’s parentage to the other woman because she had no idea how she would be received. Upon arrival at Kenna’s family home, they left the carriage and headed for the solarium. A nanny came to take Freya to be washed up and ready for her afternoon nap while another servant left to arrange a tea service. The staff was in a flurry of activity once they realised that they were hosting the Queen of Scotland.

As soon as they were alone, Mary turned to Kenna as she took a seat.

“Freya… I thought you were giving the baby up for adoption.”

Kenna let out a sigh of dejection, she had guessed that Mary would want to know about her daughter.

“I was about to, right until the moment she opened her eyes… that’s when I knew that she was mine and I couldn’t let her go. You know that sometimes babies can have different eye colours at birth but not Freya, they were just as green that day as they are now.”

“So you know then… that she’s Bash’s. Kenna why would hide away your husband’s child? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Kenna rubbed her hands over her face in frustration.

“What I wanted doesn’t matter anymore. Bash hates me and he would never believe that Freya was his…”

“He would be blind not to…”

“I have to do what’s best for my daughter Mary.”

Mary could understand that particular sentiment.

“Freya deserves to know her father Kenna, Bash is nothing like Donald and he deserves to know that his wife bore him a beautiful girl.”

Kenna simply shook her head.

“I cannot uproot her life like this… France is too far.”

“But Kenna… Bash is in Edinburgh…”

“What? He’s here?”

“He’s the King’s Deputy, he goes where Francis goes.”

Mary swallowed the bitterness on her tongue at her husband’s name. While Kenna stewed over the thought that her estranged husband was so near, the servants brought in the tea service. Mary beamed at the delicious scent of her favourite Jasmine tea and smiled at the lady who poured her a cup. Mary reached into the pocket of her dress to reveal her string pouch. She took a spoonful of the herbal powder from the pouch and stirred it into her tea.

“What is that?”

Kenna asked her friend out of curiosity.

 “Mary are you ill? You sure look sickly…”

“No of course not… these are just herbs; a friend gave them to help me conceive, Francis and I were trying for a child and this is supposed to boost fertility.”

Kenna held out a hand.

“May I see that?”

“Sure.”

Mary happily placed the pouch in her friend’s outstretched hand.

“You know I am staying at Linlithgow for the next few weeks, you’re welcome to visit anytime and I would enjoy the company.”

“I am surprised to see you so far away from home to be honest…”

Kenna observed as she scanned the contents of the queen’s pouch with a singular focus; she rubbed the powder between her fingers, smelled it and even licked the substance from the pad of her finger, making a disgusted face at the bitter taste.

“Mary… what did you say this was?”

“Silphium… that’s what Hannah called it. She said her mother used it and she had fourteen children.”

“Did she tell you if it was the Silphium flower or root?”

“She said that it was grounded Silphium flower… I read about it and it does have very strong history of promoting conception.”

Kenna’s head snapped up to look at Mary, the queen was just about to take her first sip of tea when Kenna jostled the table to make her drop her cup.

“Kenna! Why did you do that?”

“Did you know that Silphium flower tastes sweet? This is bitter and vile… I know this taste, this isn’t Silphium flower Mary it’s Silphium root.”

“But Hannah said that… she lied to me.”

Of course she did, why on earth would she expect Hannah to be honest with her after she caught her having an affair with her husband?

“Who is this Hannah anyways?”

“She’s the boys’ new nanny.”

“Well, I don’t know what her agenda is but she’s been making you consume a very powerful contraceptive for months.”

“A contraceptive… she’s been actively preventing me from falling pregnant?”

Kenna nodded; she took in the anger on Mary’s face as she came t the realisation that she was being tricked.

“I thought she wanted me to do my duty so she could convince Francis to be with her but maybe she wanted to make me seem infertile. I would be of no use to those men, they’d have to get rid of me. She wants to make Francis to do to me what Henry Tudor did to Anne Boleyn.”

Mary was on her feet now, pacing back and forth and muttering to herself while her hands made a mess of her hair.

“Papa wants to kill you Mama, so he can be with the bad lady.”

Mary looked to the sofa she was just seated on to find Desiree with her legs crossed on the seat.

“No Desiree… I think Papa was tricked by the bad lady.”

Kenna watched Mary talking to an empty seat, her pupils were blown wide and her skin looked grey. She could recognise the signs of madness intimately; she was the one to see Henry lose his sanity. It meant that someone was poisoning the Queen and Kenna knew exactly who. She still remembered the day Nostradamus gave her the first dose of Silphium root tea when she became Henry’s mistress; he had cautioned her to never mix it with jasmine. He said that jasmine and silphium mixed together to create a toxic herb capable of creating madness; mood swings, hallucinations and in larger doses can even lead to death.  She crossed the room to clutch at her friend’s shoulder.

“Mary, snap out of it… and listen to me very carefully; you are being poisoned by the Silphium. How many times have you mixed it with your jasmine tea?”

Her eyes were still hazy but she managed to answer.

“Kenna… I always take it with jasmine tea, you know it’s my favourite.”

The duchess could see that Mary was not really present and she needed her to be clear headed so she did the only thing she could think off. Kenna reached for the jug of cold summer wine and poured the entirety over the Queen’s head. The ice-cold liquid snapped her out of her haze and she gasped as she felt her gown get drenched.

“What the hell? This will leave stains!”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic, like you can’t afford to replace a gown.”

Mary broke into fits of laughter at the hilarity of her cream gown being stained red, her hair was a wet and tangled mess. She must look like a fright. Kenna moved to sit beside her friend on the sofa with a serious face.

“You know what this means?”

“That Hannah has been conspiring against me since the moment she arrived. She’s a highborn lady so she knows what would happen to me if people learned that I was barren and mad, they would call for my head.”

“What’s her reasoning? Why does she hate you so much?”

“I think she’s in love with Francis.”

That made Kenna straighten in her seat.

“What? How could this have happened?”

“Now that I think about it, it makes sense. She always tried to bring the boys to his study and she stayed there while he worked. She always seemed nervous around him; I thought she was scared of him but…”

“Your nanny is obsessed with your husband? That sounds like a racy novel.”

That cheeky reply earned her a smack.

“Shut up Kenna.”

“You need to go back Mary, give the bitch a good beating.”

“I can’t go back.”

“Why not?”

“Because I caught her and Francis together in the bath.”

The second Mary spoke the words, Kenna broke out in hysterics and her giggles were unabashedly loud.

“That’s not funny!”

“Sure it is.”

“I know what I saw and heard… his clothes were in her room; she was moaning his name and I heard a man’s voice.”

Mary insisted through clenched teeth, she hated that people thought that what she experienced was invalid. Kenna brought an arm around her shoulder to comfort her.

“Mary what you’re describing to me sounds disturbing and suspicious but it could simply be nothing but a misunderstanding. Hannah sounds like a lunatic and maybe those clothes were stolen from him, that is something stalkers do.”

Now that she mentioned it, she did remember Francis complaining about losing his clothes.

“I have to go back. That crazy bitch is trying to ruin my family.”

Mary stood up, her hands on her hips in determination.

“That’s the spirit.”

She pulled up Kenna to her feet too.

“You should come with me.”

“I don’t know Mary, things with Bash…”

“I know it sounds selfish but today you proved to me that I need you desperately. Accept your old position, be my lady again and I will help you figure out what to do with Bash.”

“But Freya…”

“Freya will have lots of children her age to play with. Didn’t we always want our children to grow up together? Now they can… please Kenna.”

After a little more begging and pouting from Mary, Kenna finally relented.

“Alright fine… I’ll return to Edinburgh with you.”

“Yes! Let’s leave immediately then.”

Kenna pointed to Mary’s dishevelled appearance.

“Okay but first, you need to change. And take a real bath.”

Holyroodhouse, Edinburgh

Five days…five days since his wife fled their home, ran away to Linlithgow because she thought he was having an affair. At first, he’d recklessly tried to follow her but was stopped by Lola who was the only one at the time who was aware of Mary’s poisoning. Her reasoning did make sense, if someone was finding a way to get by her tasters at home then spending a few days away might be exactly what Mary needed.  Francis had spent the days since then investigating every food Mary ate in the past few months, have every article of clothing tested, investigate anything she may have come in contact with that could hold poison but everything came back clean.

The first three nights were spent locked up in his study; he didn’t know how he had survived the abnormal amount of alcohol that he had consumed. Last night when he’d finally returned to his empty bedchambers, he couldn’t bare to sleep in that bed alone so he suggested his children to join him. Francis knew that the boys terribly missed their Mama so it was nice to see them excited at the prospect of sleeping in their parents’ bed.

Currently, the King of Scotland and France was in his study. He was in the middle of discussing the report given to him by the French Ambassador, ever since he made the decision to replace his mother with Charles, he’d gotten nothing but irritated letters from Catherine. He had begun to discard the complaints and whinging; his mother was aware that this was the only way to keep her in power without her past mistakes staining his reign.

“Tell me the status of the Red Knights, have the criminals been apprehended?”

While he did not support the way his parents handled the situation in the past, it was barbaric and unjust in his opinion, he had no intention of letting a violent group of vengeful men disrupt the stability of his nation.

“Yes, Lord Bayard led the mission with our most trained men two nights ago as per my intelligence.”

When Francis urged him to continue the report, the man shifted on his feet and refused to meet his eyes.

“Spit it out Jacques! What happened that you are not telling me.”

“Prince Charles joined the mission.”

“Excuse me?”

Francis stood up in shock.

“I do not know the details but the letter from my spies tells me that he wished to prove his worth to the nobles who thought him a foolish child. He wished to secure his position as per your orders.”

“I did not ask him to willing walk into a death trap.”

He spat out in indignation, Francis pinched the bridge of his nose and counted backwards from ten. There was no point in taking his frustrations out on the ambassador.

“Is everyone safe now? Was the mission successful?”

“Yes your grace, the prince and all of the men returned unharmed. The Red Knights that survived the attack were taken in.”

“That’s a relief…”

“There was one casualty sir.”

“Who?”

“Leith Bayard.”

That was a disaster. Francis returned to his chair with a solemn expression. Leith was his friend but more than that, he’d just given Leith permission to marry Claude. His sister must be so devastated he couldn’t even comprehend her grief. At least Francis could rest easy knowing where Mary was, that she was alive.

“I shall send my condolences to Princess Claude.”

Without wasting any time, Francis penned a letter to his sister offering her his support in such a difficult time. He knew that he was the only one who didn’t dismiss her love for Leith, who didn’t invalidate her feelings and Claude deserved to know that her brother would always be on her side, no matter what.

After handing Jacques the sealed letter, he sent his page to fetch his Deputy. Bash needed to know that he had to nominate another Lieutenant.

After a long day of duties and solo parenting, Francis finally retired to his study to catch up on some much-needed alone time. He picked up a rather interesting book set during the height of the Roman Empire, his Italian could always use some more work and it was nice to brush up one’s skills while being entertained, besides his mother would kill him if she knew how rusty he was getting. He had decided not to mourn his relationship because he held faith that the instant that Mary was free from the influence of whatever was poisoning her mind, she would return home where she belonged.

In the meantime, he had asked his own network of spies to keep an eye out for Lady Hannah. Something about the girl irked him, it couldn’t be a coincidence that Mary’s mind thought that he was with her. When Mary mentioned finding his clothes in her room, he couldn’t help but recall how many articles of clothing he had recently began to lose. That day when he found Hannah in his own chambers, she’d appeared terrified of being caught and the way she said his name sounded too strange.

A knock to the door pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up from his seat to find his brother poking his head in.

“Mind if I come in?”

Francis motioned Bash to enter and chuckled when his brother placed a bottle of wine on the table.

“I know you’ve come to love scotch but I was feeling a bit homesick so it’s French wine tonight.”

Bash opened the bottle and offered it to his little brother, who drank it straight from the lip.

“You heathen!”

Bash kicked Francis’s feet off to make room for himself at the sofa in his study.

“What are you reading?”

“It’s one of Dante Alighieri’s works.”

“Boring… why don’t you ever read something spicy like Kenna used to?”

Francis raised his eyebrows, silently judging his brother’s taste in literature.

“Because I am not your wife.”

“You might learn more ways to seduce a woman.”

Bash grinned and dodged the punch heading his way, gleefully taking a sip of wine.

“I do not need a manual to give me ideas, there’s something called creativity and natural talent. Some people are born with it.”

“You are so humble aren’t you.”

Francis rolled his eyes at the teasing.

That’s how they spent the next few minutes, sharing a bottle of wine and Bash teasing Francis as he tried and failed to read his book.

“In all seriousness, how are you coping?”

Francis sighed and put his book down, there was no point in continuing.

“About the fact that someone is poisoning my wife and I have no idea who? Or that she walked out on our marriage again? This time she thinks that I cheated on her with the nanny of all people.”

His bitterness came out unabated, Bash was the one person he could be completely honest with. There were things he shared with his brother that he couldn’t share with his wife for fear of upsetting her. Some thoughts were best shared between brothers only.

“You did the right thing by letting her go, we don’t know if the perpetrator had any other plans. Her absence has brought us enough time to get to the bottom of this.”

“I know Bash… I just miss her more than anything. The boys feel her absence too… how do you tell your toddlers that you don’t know when Mama’s coming back? I can’t keep disappointing them every morning and every night.”

Bash clutched his brother’s shoulder in a show of support, to remind him that he was not alone.

“She will come back to you… no matter the hardships you face I have always seen you find your way back to each other. Believe me little brother when I say that your love will always persevere.”   

“I sure hope so… but I can’t help but resent her a bit.”

“Francis… don’t think like that.”

“Why does she always leave me?”

Bash was speechless, it hurt to see him in such a state. The truth was that Mary has always been a flighty girl and while she has outgrown most of her girlish habits, her instincts to run and hide in the face of adversity has yet to fade.

“Mary has spent her entire life running from the Tudors’ attacks, she’s so used to looking over her shoulder that she can’t help herself. It happens and I wish she felt safe enough to break this habit… if only to spare you the pain.”

“What else will it take? What will I have to give her to show her that she’s safe with me?”

“Time.. I suppose. Your marriage is still very young you know, things will get better in the future.”

Francis looked to Bash with moist eyes and a grateful smile. He looked down to his hands to realise that they’d finished the whole bottle and got up to get a new one. He had just crossed the study when someone knocked at the doors. Bash opened them to reveal one of Francis’s spies.

“Ah Simon, good evening. Do you have news for me?”

“The Lady Hannah was spotted with a blonde man on her balcony, your grace.”

The boy bowed and left the room as silently as he’d come.

“What was that?”

Bash asked his brother.

“When Mary told me that she found my clothes in Hannah’s bedchambers I had my spies keep tabs on her. She’s spent all day in the village today, I had asked Simon to notify me if something happens.”

Francis picked up his doublet from the back of his chair and put it on before reaching for his scabbard.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“There was no time… now come on.”

“Francis wait… what will you do to her?”

They hid in the dark passageways behind Hannah’s chambers, Francis had explored them with Mary in the months after they’d returned from England. Disturbingly, the only sounds coming from the room were moans and grunts followed by the occasional sound of the nanny calling out his name in the throes of passion.

“That is some deeply messed up shit.”

Bash whispered.

“Don’t you think I know that? We let her near our children…”

“You need to get rid of her.”

“That’s why we’re here Bash!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yes of course, it’s really nice of you to indulge my fantasies.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Hannah! I love being treated like a king.”

There were sounds of rustling of fabric that followed that conversation and then male footsteps faded. Francis and Bash scrambled from the passageway and out to follow the man. They finally caught up to him in an abandoned corridor of the castle. Bash quickly sprinted on the man, tackling him to the ground until he had a sword at his throat. Francis stepped out of the shadows to grin at the blonde man.

“Hello Francis.”

The man’s eyes widened at the form of address and he struggled under Bash’s grip. Francis unsheathed his sword to press it to his chest, a thin linen tunic the only thing separating the point of the blade and the man’s skin.

“Stop struggling and start talking or I’ll call the torturers.”

The coward went still and nodded eagerly.

“What’s your name and why are you pretending to be the king?”

Bash demanded.

“Please don’t hurt me… I am a simple farm boy. My name is Joseph and I just do what Hannah asks me to.”

“And what is your relation to my sons’ nanny?”

“I love her your majesty.”

Of course he did.

“Well, she seemed to like Francis more than she likes Joseph.”

Bash snickered.

“What about the Queen? Did she tell you anything about the Queen?”

“Hannah told me that there wouldn’t be any problem there. She said that she had a plan to get rid of her.”

Francis pressed the tip of his sword deeper into his skin.

“What plan?”

“I don’t know sire, only that the council would have no option but to kill her.”

“What does Hannah gain from Queen Mary’s death?”

Bash couldn’t help but wonder what could possess a highborn nanny to attempt an assassination of the queen.

“To be Queen of course.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“She’s in love with you, she wants to marry you and she knows she can’t do that unless you’re a widower.”

Francis’s nostrils flared as rage overtook him and he had to try with severe hardship to keep himself from beating the fool on his knees before him.

“You understand Joseph that what you confessed to me is treason, the punishment for which is death. Hannah will be hanged for this.”

Tears had begun streaming down the poor lad’s face and somehow, he wretched himself free from Bash’s grip to fall at Francis’s feet.

“Please your majesty… I beg of you don’t kill Hannah. You can exile us both and I will ensure she never bothers you again.”

Francis merely pried his legs free and shared a frown with his brother.

“Take him to the dungeons and make sure he doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“Where are you going?”

Francis had just taken a step back when Bash stopped him.

“To Linlithgow.”

“What? Now? Francis it’s the middle of the night. Have you lost your mind?”

“I just learned that someone wants to murder my wife! I will not stay here and twiddle my thumbs, to wait for her to return safely. I am bringing her back home tonight.”

With those parting words, the King of France and Scotland made a dash for the stables.

A few miles away from Holyroodhouse things started to take a turn for the worse. It was a full moon tonight and Francis was thankful for the way it lit the roads for him to have a safer journey. When he entered the denser part of the forest, the road thinned and made things a bit difficult to navigate. Suddenly he heard the call of wolves from the trees around him and he urged his horse to pick up the pace. He had no intention of being wolf fodder tonight. Another howl echoed in the night, this one was so close that it spooked his horse and she darted off the road. Francis tried to calm his stead but she was too frightened and didn’t stop until she had succeeded in throwing him off.

With an embarrassed and painful thud, Francis fell on the ground and cursed to himself as his horse galloped away. The sound of wolves was still reverberating through the area and he quickly stood up to unsheathe his sword. An instant later he heard the sound of hooves and wheels; a carriage was nearby. He clutched his sword tighter in preparation; best case scenario, they would be friendly and he could return to the castle; worst case scenario, he was going to be killed.

When the carriage arrived in his line of sight he sent a prayer of relief. The golden lion was clear to him at such a distance, this was the royal carriage; the one his wife had taken to Linlithgow. He stood at the centre of the road and waved his arms to alert the driver to his presence. The horses came to a halt a hair’s breadth away from him.

“Your majesty? What are you doing here?”

The driver was perturbed by his appearance.

“I was on my way to Linlithgow but my horse got spooked by wolves, is my wife in the carriage?”

“Um yes sire, we were just headed for the palace.”

Francis went around to reach for the carriage door but it opened to reveal his wife.

“Why have we… Francis? What on earth are you doing here?”

Mary’s mouth fell open at the sight of her husband and her heartbeat spiked at the sight of him after so many days apart.

“May I come in?”

“Yes of course.”

Francis stepped in the carriage to find that Mary was not travelling alone.

“Kenna?!”

“Hello brother.”

Francis sat beside his wife and turned to her with a questioning look.

“Where did you meet Kenna?”

“In the town near the palace.”

“Who are you?”

A small but demanding voice cut through their conversation, making Francis face the fourth occupant of the carriage. His eyes widened as he saw the child and took in the colour of her eyes.

“Kenna… is that my brother’s child?”

“Forget that for a moment and tell me what you were doing in the middle of the road.”

Mary cut in before the topic could shift, she needed to know why her husband was out here by himself.

“I was on my way to you, to bring you home. Mary you are in danger… Hannah is trying to kill you… I know you didn’t believe me when I said that you were being poisoned but…”

“I know about that. Kenna helped me figure it out, that’s why we’re here. I wanted to tell you as soon as possible.”

“How did you find about it?”

Kenna asked.

“After Mary mentioned hearing me with Hannah…”

“… I am so sorry about that.”

“…I had my spies follow her. Bash and I heard her with her lover today, turns out she pretends that he’s me. It was disturbing and vomit inducing but we heard everything. Bash has lover boy in the dungeons and he confessed to everything.”

It was even worse than Mary thought, Hannah was really trying to murder her.

“What was her plan after getting rid of me?”

“She wants to be Queen; she wants to marry me.”

Kenna and Mary shared a nod, they had come up with the same conclusion. Hannah wanted Francis all to herself, her obsession was out of control and she needed to be stopped. She knew that her and Francis had a lot to talk about but for now they needed to focus their energies on serving Lady Hannah the justice she deserves.

Hannah emerged from her hot bath, the sun was rising in the horizon, painting the sky a mixture of blues and reds. She wrapped her nude body in a crimson silk robe and entered her bedchambers. She reached for the tunic on her pillow and pressed it against her nose to inhale the intoxicating scent of the man she loved. From the moment that she had first laid eyes on his bare body stepping out of his bath, she had fallen for him. Every time she took a bath she pictured him with her, touching her in places he touches his barren bitch.

“Oh Francis! If only you could open your eyes and see how happy I could make you.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard someone knocking at her door. She had no clue as to who could be visiting her at this hour. When she opened the door, she thought she was dreaming, the object of all her desires and fantasies was standing before in the sharpest of attires.

“Your Grace.”

“Lady Hannah… may I enter?”

She opened the door wider to let him in and closed it behind her. Her heart was thumping so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

Francis turned to meet her eyes with his smouldering gaze.

“Yes, you can actually. I cannot stop thinking about you and how much I need you, my lady.”

“Francis…”

She suddenly felt breathless.

“Ever since I first saw you; I have been trying to deny the connection between us. I cannot keep fighting it any longer, I burn for you.”

She couldn’t believe her ears; he was saying everything she wanted him to say for months. A smile spread across her lip and she rushed to close the distance between them but he pulled away before their lips could touch.

“What’s wrong? Is this about my feelings? I assure you Francis I am madly in love with you.”

“No, it’s not that. I just… I am married and adultery is a sin.”

“But you are the King, nothing you do can be a sin.”

He chuckled fondly at her naivety.

“I simply do not wish to dishonour you; you deserve more than to be a mistress. You deserve to be a Queen.”

 If he didn’t stop being so romantic, Hannah feared that she might swoon.

“Then marry me… cast off your wife and wed me.”

“I cannot… Mary is the rightful ruler of Scotland, if I annul our marriage then our nations would be at risk.”

“What if we proved that she was a witch? A heretic.”

Francis’s eyebrow’s furrowed and his eye twitched.

“How will we achieve that?”

“I’ve been giving her an herb to help her conceive but it’s only a strong contraceptive. I suggested that she drink it mixed in jasmine tea. It has slowly made her lose her mind; she thinks she talks to dead people like the pagans.”

Francis’s hands were trailing up her spine.

“You did all this to marry me?”

“I would do anything for you. If we take news of her madness and infertility to the Pope, he will have no choice but to have her beheaded for heresy.”

“Then you will be free to be my Queen.”

His hands were resting on her neck, his thumbs rubbing circles above her throat in a way that sent shiver down her body. She closed her eyes to lean forward to seal their promise with a kiss. Hannah’s desire quickly turned to pain once she felt the grip on her neck tighten, she choaked a ragged breath.

“What are you doing my love? I can’t breathe…”

Francis’s mesmerising eyes hardened into slits before her eyes, his expression switching from adoration to absolute loathing.

“Giving you exactly what you deserve… did you really think you could try to assassinate my wife; the mother of my children and I would leave you unpunished?”

“But… I did it for you… I love you.”

The doors to the chambers flew open to reveal the Queen, her ladies, the Deputy and four Privy Council members surrounded by guards.

“Thank you for confessing your treason so vehemently.”

Mary’s voice was sharp and clear as she glared at the woman still struggling to breathe in her husband’s grip. She waltzed over to the pathetic girl.

“You tried to kill me and seduce my husband but you failed. My husband is faithful to me, you were nothing to him before you threatened his wife and now you are his enemy. If there is one thing about Francis that you should know is that he is merciless when it comes to his enemies.”

Hannah knew that she was going to die for this but she didn’t want to go, not before hurting the entitled bitch one last time.

“It doesn’t matter, you fool. I’ve already caused enough damage by feeding you all that Silphium. Did you know that it doesn’t just prevent pregnancies but it also kills unwanted ones?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Even if you had managed to conceive in the past five months, the roots wouldn’t have let the child live. How many children do you think you bled out in that time? How many babies did your womb fail to protect because you trusted me?”

Mary’s vision turned red at the image that Hannah was portraying.

“I will tear you in half for this!”

She reached for the knife in Bash’s belt and plunged it into her gut before anyone could stop her. Hannah went limp in Francis’s grip and he let her fall while she glared at Mary through the agony.

“Have a physician bind her wound. You are not allowed to die like this, you will breathe until I have had the pleasure of watching your body tear away as you are being drawn and quartered!”

The trial and sentencing lasted the entire day. Mary was correct in her declaration that she did feel pleasure when Hannah’s body broke into pieces. She killed so many of her children, made the year so unbearable for her and all because she lusted after her husband. She left her children with the woman and she was poisoning her all that time, she trusted her and Hannah threw it in her face.

Sundown found the Queen in her bedchambers clutching a pillow and sobbing until there were no more tears left to cry. The King entered the room and closed the door behind him with a click. He joined his wife in bed and pulled her limp body in his arms.

“Oh, my sweet love. What can I do to help?”

“Just hold me…”

She sniffed and buried her head in his chest while he tightened his hold.

“I am so sorry Francis.”

“Shh… we can talk about it later.”

He whispered while he pressed kisses on her hairline.

“No! You were right. I push you away, I run and I don’t trust you when things get hard. This has to stop.”

“Mary you were being poisoned; you weren’t in your right mind.”

“But I should have never doubted you. You have never cheated on me, never betrayed me. You have upheld our vows much more honourably than I have and to accuse you like that…”

Francis cupped her face to meet her eyes and leaned his forehead against hers.

“I forgive you because I can understand your fears. But Mary… you don’t have to run away from me, we are partners and I will never forsake you.”

“I know that, I trust you more than anyone else but I can’t seem to break this endless cycle of fleeing from trouble.”

He bumped their noses affectionately and watched a smile bloom on her lips.

“How about this… the next time things get hard, we run away together. Wherever you wish to go, I will take you there.”

Mary leaned forward to capture his lips in a hungry kiss.

“I don’t deserve you at all Francis de Valois.”

“Nonsense! I am yours regardless. Instead of thinking that we don’t deserve each other, we should be trying to become someone that we do deserve. We are married Mary; I think it’s time we begin to grow together instead of apart.”

 Francis pushed her back into the bed and leaned over her, his finger pulling apart the strings of her gown.

“Stop, wait…”

He quickly paused his movements to look at her in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to talk to you about trying for a baby.”

“Is that not something you want anymore? I can understand if you don’t.”

“It’s not that… I was simply thinking about it on the way back. We have nearly ruined our marriage trying to conceive a child, none of the boys took trying. I think we should stop making an effort.”

“Then what are you suggesting?”

Francis wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was lost.

“I saw we forget about a baby and instead have fun; we don’t actively try but we don’t do anything to prevent it. We enjoy ourselves and let nature take its course, let the chips fall where they may.”

“But I can still make love to you whenever I want?”

He made sure to confirm, his question eliciting a fit of giggles from his wife.

“Yes Francis.”

“Good, just making sure.”

His mouth swallowed the rest of her laughter as his hands touched every inch of her, he could find. Five days… five days without feeling her bare skin against his, he was not about to leave this bed until they were once again imprinted onto one another’s flesh.

Chapter Text

Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh

“We need to talk.”

Sebastian’s voice was hard as steel, his hands fisted at his side as he glared daggers at his wife. Only an hour ago he saw his sister-in-law smile at a death sentence, the satisfaction of seeing Hannah being drawn and quartered was something Bash always believed Mary incapable of but she proved him wrong. He was still reeling from the events of the past twenty-four hours so he hadn’t even let it sink that his estranged wife was back at court. When he heard Lola mention the child at her side, he immediately knew what that meant. The audacity of that woman to bring her bastard child at court to rub in his face that they failed to make their marriage work set him off. Kenna truly had no shame, which was why he stood at her door, ready to pick a fight.

Kenna sighed at his confrontational tone and reluctantly opened the door to the sitting room of her chambers; it was a good thing that Freya was in bed fast asleep.

“You need to leave.”

Kenna crossed her arms at the command and squared her shoulders.

“This is Mary’s court and she invited me to stay, I am not leaving because you asked nicely.”

“I’m surprised you even had the courage to show your face, aren’t you worried about your reputation? That’s all you have ever cared about, your image and your ambitions. To hell with everyone else!”

“Don’t! You have no idea what it’s been like, the terrible decisions I have had to make for the sake of my daughter. It’s not easy being a woman in this world Bash, we only have the power that we can take.”

Bash let out a scoff.

“And you’ve always been good at that haven’t you? Taking things for yourself with no care to the hurt that you leave behind.”

Kenna took a step back to evade the pain in his eyes. She knew how terribly she had hurt Bash and she had no hope of his forgiveness but she needed him to know the truth.

“Can we just cease this endless argument? I know you hate me and I can accept that but there’s something you need to know.”

Bash suddenly felt the weight of the tiresome resentment in the air and reluctantly accepted her offer. If Mary had decided to invite Kenna back to court then there was nothing left but to accept it no matter how much he hated the situation. She led him to the two cushioned chairs before the hearth and poured them both a goblet full of wine.

“What could be so important?”

Kenna exhaled loudly to brace herself for the chaos that would follow her admission.

“It’s about Freya.”

“Your bastard daughter.”

Kenna nearly flinched at the venom in his voice but forced herself to meet his harsh gaze.

“That’s what I wanted to tell you, Freya was born four months early and I feared for her life more than anything.”

“How did she survive it? How did you survive it?”

Bash had heard the stories of Mary’s labour with the twins, they were early and the Queen had nearly bled to death during the ordeal. How had Kenna and her child managed to live through such a brutal labour?

Kenna suppressed a smile at his unintended display of concern.

“She was completely healthy because I was wrong. Freya wasn’t early… she was on time; I was pregnant before we parted ways. Before I started things with Renaude, I didn’t show until the end so I assumed.”

“Assumed what?”

“That the child was his.”

Kenna carefully put down her empty goblet and reached to take his hand, urging him to understand the severity of her confession, to see the vulnerability and honesty in her eyes.

“What is are you implying Kenna?”

“The second she opened her eyes I knew; they are still as vibrant as the day she was born such a stunning shade of green I had only seen once before. It’s you Bash… she has your eyes… our daughter has your eyes.”

Bash’s entire world stilled at her words, his body went slack and he sagged in his seat. He was sure that had he been standing he would’ve fallen to his knees, that is how numb he was. His ears were ringing and his heart was beating so loudly that he was sure Kenna could hear its thumping against his chest.

“Bash? Are you alright? Please say something!”

“You’re lying!”

The accusation was whispered into the quiet of the room and while it was not unexpected, Kenna could admit that it stung.

“Look into my eyes Bash, I swear to you that I am not lying. I would never lie about something like this.”

That’s when Kenna saw anger flash in his green eyes, his body stiffened and he stood up.

“You did lie! You tricked me into sleeping with you so you could pass off your bastard as mine. If it weren’t for Delphine…”

“… if it weren’t for Delphine we would still be together because Freya was always yours. I may have made a desperate lie but she knowingly led you to mistrust me. If she was strong enough to sense our baby then why didn’t she tell you how far along I was?”

“I didn’t ask.”

Kenna closed her eyes to take a deep breath, Bash was ready to throw something and the last thing they needed was to wake Freya. She didn’t want the first time they met to be so tense.

“Listen, I made a mistake but I cannot change the past. I will never stop being sorry for betraying you but I beg of you; Bash please don’t deprive that little girl of a father. I was wrong to keep you apart, I see that now but she already loves you and I know that if you just gave her a chance you will adore her.”

Tears slipped past her cheeks and Bash had to clench his fists to resist the urge to wipe them away. His heart and mind were warring with one another. On one hand, he couldn’t risk placing his trust in Kenna any more but he wanted nothing more than to be a father. There was a time when he abhorred the idea of settling down, then Mary came into his life and things changed; now that he saw the joy that his nephews brought his brother, he couldn’t help but yearn for that life. Even if he doesn’t have the marriage that he once wanted at least he could be the kind of parent that his father was to him.

Bash took a step back and saw Kenna’s face fall.

“I want to believe you Kenna but…”

“I understand your reservations, just ask Francis and Mary; they took one look at her and they knew. Freya is your daughter.”

“I just need time to think, to process all this information.”

“Okay.”

It was with those words that the Duke of Blois turned his back on his wife and left her to her thoughts.

Edinburgh Castle, Scotland

Three weeks later

The Queen of Scotland and France landed on her bottom on the soft soil with a large thud and a cry of pain. Every inch of her body ached in protest at the brutal treatment her beloved husband was bestowing on her, she was sure to have bruises now. Francis hovered above her, a sadistic grin on his lips and wooden sword in hand. He offered her his free hand and she took it with a grimace to hoist herself to her feet.

“You are enjoying beating me way too much, it’s considered abusive in some cultures.”

Mary snarked as she brushed the dirt from her pants. Francis let out a bark of laughter at her complaints.

“My god love, you are so dramatic. You were the one who insisted I don’t go easy on you. What was it that you said, if you treat me like a breakable doll, I won’t let you touch me for weeks.”

Mary picked up her wooden practice sword from the ground.

“I didn’t expect you to be so brutal, the last time I saw you train was two years ago and you were nowhere near as good.”

Francis preened at the backhanded compliment causing his wife to roll her eyes.

“I have had the pleasure of duelling many skilled swordsmen since then, I’ve improved and you will too if you keep practicing.”

He took a step back to move into a defensive stance, gesturing for Mary to follow.

“I still don’t understand why you insisted on sword fighting lessons. I am skilled enough with a bow and arrow, isn’t that enough?”

“Archery isn’t useful at close range combat and you have to be really exceptional to be able to rely on it for defence… loosen your grip on the pommel.”

He punctuated his advice with a tap to her wrist, blocking her blow.

“Do I really need such intense training? I know a few moves and I am surrounded by guards at all times.”

Mary’s eyebrows were knitted in concentration while she parried a well-positioned hit, almost losing her sword in the process.

“You cannot always expect help. There have been many times when your guards weren’t enough, when you were in danger and you had to protect yourself.”

Another swing and Francis easily disarmed her, he went on to explain exactly what she did wrong even going as far as to physically correct her posture but her mind was miles away.

“Are you referring to the night our daughter died?”

Francis went rigid behind her, his hands on her waist stilled their movements and when Mary twisted in his grip to face him his teeth were clenched. She knew that her words triggered the same memories that flashed before her own eyes, the most traumatising experience of her life.

 “I didn’t mean to imply…”

She raised her hands and removed her leather gloves before cupping his cheeks.

“It’s alright my love. You’re right that were I able to wield a weapon back then things would be much different.”

“I don’t like stirring up those memories.”

He reached up to caress the apples of her cheeks with the back of his hand, brushing off the smidge of dirt left behind from her fall.

“Those memories have no power over me, I am stronger than that and it’s all because of the support of my family.”

Francis smiled at her conviction pulling her in for a deep kiss, his hands tangled in her messy braid. When they pulled apart, Mary had a mischievous smirk on her lips. While her husband had been lost in their embrace, Mary managed to take his sword and was now holding it pointed at his chest. 

“I see how it is you little cheater.”

“You told me to be resourceful.”

“I’d like to see you try that trick on an enemy.”

Francis shook his head at her cheek while smiling to himself.

“How about I make you a deal? The day you manage to defeat me in a duel, fair and square. I will make you your own personalised sword.”

“A Francis Valois custom piece.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s a deal then.”

Mary stepped away from her husband after that to make her way towards the washbasin in the corner of the training courtyard. The Highland Games were scheduled to begin tomorrow morning and she had to see to the last of the arrangements. Every important Scottish Clan member was staying at court and the last thing they needed was someone to say the wrong thing, rivalries between the clans ran deep.

“How do you think my nobility will react to me wielding a weapon like some soldier?”

Francis walked over to her and gratefully accepted the wet washcloth she was offering to wipe his sweaty face.

“In all the months I have spent here I have learned that the Scots value strength more than anything. I like to think that if your people saw you capable of being a warrior just like them, then they will respect you even more. They will be in awe of your power, just as I am every single day.”

“You are my husband; you have to say that.”

  Even still, she couldn’t disguise the blush that bloomed at the sincere compliment.

“I wish they could see you as I do.”

“I will make them.”

Francis pulled her closer.

“I know you will my queen.”

Mary was seconds way from giving up on their duties and cajoling him to return to their bedchambers when the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat pulled them apart. The Duchess of Blois stood with a hand on her hip and a folder filled with pages tucked under her arm. Kenna’s eyebrow was arched and her lips were pressed into a displeased frown.

“I was told that the King and Queen were busy training and here I find you canoodling.”

Francis grinned sheepishly.

“My wife is a master of seduction sister; I am merely a victim of her attentions.”

 Kenna scoffed at the dramatics, where Bash was determined to hate her, it seemed his younger brother held no such ideas. The second that Francis learned of Kenna’s efforts to help Mary all was forgiven and Freya’s presence certainly helped. The little girl loved her Uncle Francis and her cousins, Mary was right when she said that being surrounded by so many children would make Freya bloom; she quickly became attached to Mary and Lola’s boys, the foursome running around the castle grounds and driving their nannies up the wall.

“We need to see to the seating chart for the games.”

Kenna reminded her friend.

“Yes of course, we truly must get to work.”

Mary nodded and turned to her husband.

“Lady Lennox and her son will be arriving this afternoon. She is Margaret Tudor’s daughter and has always liked to think of herself as an important woman at court. Please greet her personally, I do not wish to deal with her displeasure.”

Margaret Douglas was James V’s half-sister by his mother’s second husband Archibald Douglas. She was married to the late Mathew Stewart, the 4^th Earl of Lennox and was arriving with her fifteen-year-old son; Henry Stewart. Aunt Margaret wasn’t a constant presence at Scottish Court as she preferred to use her Tudor heritage to enjoy the comforts of London but every once in a while, she would return to see to her husband’s estate. Marie de Guise despised her arrivals because she always treated Holyroodhouse like it was hers and not Marie’s. According to her mother’s letter’s, Margaret was the in-law from hell. Mary had never personally met the woman but all the stories made her sure that sending the King to greet her retinue would be for the best.

The rest of the morning was spent seeing to all the arrangements with Kenna and the rest of her ladies. It was the first Highland Games that Mary was personally hosting and she wanted everything to be perfect. Things were going relatively smoothly, if one disregards the short temper that Lady Kenna was displaying. Every servant had met the wrath of the Duchess of Blois and after hours of ignoring her terrible moods, Mary dragged her to her study to get to the bottom of it.

“What is going on with you Kenna? You have snapped at everyone unfortunate enough to be near you today.”

Mary frowned; her eyebrows knitted in concern. Kenna sank in the nearest seat with a hand on her face, her frustration clear to see.

“It’s Bash.”

“I had a feeling. I thought you’d have come to an agreement by now.”

“Freya had a nightmare last night and she wanted both of us.”

Kenna was glad that Freya and Bash were getting along nicely but she wasn’t sure if she could handle another night like that.

“So? What did the two of you do?”

Mary’s question was met with a sigh.

“When your little girl is as terrified as she was, what else could we do? We stayed with her, slept in the same bed after two years.”

“I am guessing it was not comfortable.”

Kenna snorted at Mary’s observation.

“He stormed out this morning like we had burned him, Freya couldn’t understand what Papa was so angry. She’s been sad all day but I am so busy that I can’t be with her.”

Mary walked over to her lady and leaned on the armchair; she squeezed her shoulder in solidarity.

“How about you take a break? I can handle it from here, you should be with your daughter. She needs her Mama far more than I need my sister.”

“Thank you for this Mary… I just feel so helpless, I have no idea how I am going to deal with Bash. His moods are always changing and Freya doesn’t need that kind of instability in her life. Maybe coming here was a mistake, if Bash is not going to commit to being a parent, then I will return to Livingston Estate.”

“Kenna no! You cannot give up just yet, you and Freya are our family, we cannot abandon you.”

“What about Bash?”

Mary smiled reassuringly at her lady, determination sparking in her eyes.

“You leave Bash to me.”

Kenna immediately stood up in alarm.

“What are you planning on doing Mary?”

“Just trust me.”

Mary and Sebastian simply needed to have a very frank chat.

It was after supper that Mary called for Bash in her husband’s study. Francis was vehemently against her involvement but had finally relented when she mentioned how it was affecting his niece, if there was one thing her husband understood it was the importance of protecting children. Mary had poured two glasses hallway with Francis’s favoured whisky while she waited for Bash to arrive. She decided to pass the time by leafing through the documents neatly stacked on her husband’s desk.

Mary was busy skimming through the weekly report from France when the doors opened and her brother-in-law entered.

“Good evening brother.”

She jumped down from her perch at the desk to greet him with the drink she had prepared. He eagerly took the drink with a thankful smile, Mary watched in amusement as he gulped it down within seconds.

“Do you need another?”

“Yes actually… I have had a terrible day.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Just because she was disappointed with the way he was handling his new fatherhood didn’t mean that she didn’t care how he was doing.

“Nothing much to talk about, it’s just I have never had to deal with so many Scots in one place. These men are stubborn and very passionate.”

She knew what he meant; the Clans were always rowdy during this festival. This was the time to prove one’s strength and courage, the younger men were way too rambunctious and Francis had decided to let Bash and Lord Bothwell handle them.

“You have my unwavering faith and my sympathies.”

Bash laughed at her teasing.

“Anyways, Francis mentioned you wished to talk. He made it seem very serious, is everything alright?”

Mary merely held his hand and led him to the sofa, urging him to sit beside her.

“I talked to Kenna about what happened this morning.”

Immediately Bash’s smile vanished, his nostrils flared at the mention of his wife and he clenched his teeth.

“I assume you are here to tell me off… take her side and force me to forgive her.”

Mary shook her head.

“I am not taking anyone’s side here.”

“Then there’s nothing to talk about.”

Bash rose to his feet; he had no intention of staying for this conversation.

“Sit down Sebastian!”

“With all due respect Mary, this is none of your business.”

Mary stood up to glare at him with her arms crossed over her chest.

“You made it my business when your marital dispute started stirring gossip in my court, when you keep my husband up all night drinking with you and when your actions are harming my niece.”

The official story was that Kenna’s pregnancy was too high risk and she had to spend the entire time at a special clinic in Sweden. The last thing they needed was the nobles picking apart Bash and Kenna’s already contentious union.

“I am not the one at fault here, Kenna is the one who lied and betrayed me. Why aren’t you scolding her? Why does she get to be the victim? What about my feelings?”

Bash’s words made Mary snap at him.

“Enough with the pity party Bash, I hate to be the one to remind you but your feelings stopped being a priority the second you became a parent. The only person between the three of you that matters is Freya. You and Kenna are both being selfish, forget about your feud and focus on your daughter.”

“Every time I look at her, I get angry and I can’t seem to control it.”

Mary held his hands tightly.

“No one is asking you to forgive her or even forget her betrayal. But Bash… you must move past it or your hatred will poison your daughter for life.”

A tear slipped past Bash’s cheek and his voice wavered.

“I loved her Mary; I was prepared to give her everything and she…”

Mary pulled him into an embrace, holding her head against her shoulder to sooth him.

“I know Bash. I have no excuse for her actions… I just don’t want your relationship with Freya to suffer. You are such an amazing person and Freya is so lucky to have you as her father.”

“She’s so perfect.”

“She is, isn’t she? I speak from experience that being a parent is the most rewarding experience in the world. Watching her grow up and learn to be her own person will be the singular joy of your life.”

“I want her to love me like my nephews love you two.”

Bash admitted.

“She will Bash, and in return you will love her a thousand times more.”

The next morning began with a flurry of activity and before they knew it, the Highland Games had begun. Mary and her ladies watched the competitions from a raised wooden platform. James, William and Jean were loving the loud games while Edward was clinging to his mother, the Duke of Rothsay and Prince of Wales didn’t particularly enjoy such noisy activities. Even little Lady Freya was curiously watching from beside her mother.

The entire afternoon was spent outside on the castle grounds; there were so many competitions that Mary couldn’t chose which one was her favourite. Tug of war, boxing- in which James lost against Lord Taylor, stone put-in which the young Lord Darnley was victorious; but the most outlandish for her would always be the Caber Toss. To be able to throw an adult tree as far as possible required an enormous amount of strength, which is why she refused Francis when he asked if he would participate. She loved her husband very much and while he had many strengths, he was not muscular enough to participate in such physical games.

When it was finally time for the jousting; she quickly alerted her sons.

“Watch carefully my darlings, your Papa is going to come up now.”

The joust began with a flourish and soon enough, the King had managed to win against most of his opponents. If Francis could lethally defeat his father in a joust years ago, he can certainly win this one. The joust lasted till sundown and when the last two contestants; Francis and Bash made ready to face off against one another, everything went wrong.

A single flaming arrow whizzed past the field to land directly at the feet of the King’s horse, making the stallion jump on his hind legs. By the time Francis had managed to untangle himself from the fallen animal, a dozen arrows followed the trajectory of the first one. The entire arena went in uproar as nobles scrambled to get away from the attack. The gates to the grounds were blasted open to let in armed men who swiftly began their assault. The royal guards began engaging the enemy while many more helped in evacuating the area.

The Queen and her ladies were quickly ushered inside by the Queens guard but Mary refused to budge.

“I have to find Francis!”

“Mary don’t be ridiculous! We are under attack… we should get the children to safety.”

Greer cried out while clutching baby Rose to her chest.

“Take them inside… I will be there soon.”

With those parting words, Mary broke into a sprint while calling out for her husband; ignoring the shouts of the ladies behind her. She saw him fall from his horse, he must be injured and she needed to make sure that he was alright. She dodged many people on her way, her guard John at her side as he sliced through the attackers with his sword. She had screamed till her throat was dry and ran till her skirts were torn and muddy. Finally, she heard the sound of someone calling her name and she nearly cried in relief when she saw her husband making his way towards her; his armour was stained with dirt and blood while his sword gleamed in the light. Mary leapt into his arms and he crushed her to his chest.

“Are you hurt? I saw you fall… who are these people and how did they manage to get past our guard?”

“I’m fine Mary it looked worse than it was. The better question is why aren’t you in the castle with the other ladies?”

Francis gave John an accusatory look.

“I needed to find you… to know you were okay. We can go inside now.”

“I am staying here to help the men.”

“You are the King… this is an attack on the monarchy, you should be far away from danger.”

Mary argued; she wasn’t about to become a widow just because he wished to play the hero.

“These are my men; I cannot abandon them. Have faith in me Mary, I can take care of myself.”

“Francis, I cannot leave you here.”

He clutched her shoulders tightly.

“Look at me; our children need you. Those people in the castle are terrified and you have to be there; you must be their strength.”

He unsheathed the decorative smallsword at his belt and placed the hilt in his wife’s hand.

“This is lighter than a longsword, it’s good for duelling with a very sharp tip.”

“But I’ve never used a real sword, you said I wasn’t ready.”

Francis smiled.

“Well, here’s your first lesson; stick them with the pointy end.”

Mary laughed and leaned up to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“You must protect our people in the castle just as I must protect them here. We are King and Queen, we must trust each other. I trust that you will keep everyone safe; trust that I will come back to you.”

“Very well then; I will see you soon.”

With one last lingering kiss, Mary turned her back to allow John to lead her inside.

Most of her household was inside the Royal Chambers when she reached the castle. It was the smartest choice as it was the largest room in castle while being the easiest to secure. James and Edward ran to hug her legs the instant that they saw her.

“Mama why are the bad people here?”

James asked when she knelt before her sons.

“I don’t know my star but we will find out and in the meantime; your father and I will keep you safe.”

“Will Papa be okay?”

Edward tugged on the sleeve of her gown to get her attention.

“My sweet boy your Papa is very strong and very brave; he will defeat the bad men and come back to us.”

“Do you promise Mama?”

Mary leaned down to kiss both of her boys on their foreheads.

“Everything will be alright, I promise you.”

After reassuring the twins that it would all be over soon, Mary left them with her ladies so that she could change out of her heavy dress. She put on one of the suits Francis had made for her when she began her training. It consisted of a leather coat that reached bellow her knees, a pair of leather pants and boots. She tightly tied her hair in a braid and attached her sword to her hip.

When Mary emerged from behind the changing screen, Lola and Greer had finally managed to put the children to sleep.

“You look ready for battle.”

Lola appraised her attire.

“I am going to check in with the rest of the ladies in the castle, do a sweep of the area and see if there are any weak points.”

“Mary the whole point is to stay safe in this room, not roam the halls.”

Kenna scolded.

“Francis is out fighting to end this massacre; I will not stay here like a sitting duck when I can help keep my people safe. Besides, seeing me will reassure everyone in the castle.”

Half an hour later found Mary returning from her rounds back to her chambers. Just to be extra precautions, she decided to use the secret passageways in the castle. The sounds of battle from outside were dying down but she had no idea who was victorious, she needed to be careful. Less than a few meters from the royal chambers she heard the sound of footsteps outside. Someone was in the hallways leading to their quarters.

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

It sounded like a man barely older than twenty.

“I’ve been here before Malcom, I know where I am going, the royal chambers are just ahead.”

“My father said that we will take no prisoners this time. Not after Francis and James escaped before we could ransom them to the Queen.”

The other man’s words made Mary choke back a gasp; it was Evander and his men. Their attackers were Clan McFee and their allies. When Mary got her hands on those traitorous bastards they will pay with their lives.

“So, what’s on the agenda?”

“Father said to leave the King for him, our job is to eliminate his heirs. Once the French bastards are dead, father will force the Queen to take me as her husband and Scotland will finally be ruled by a Scot. We are sick of the French; I don’t know what possessed King James to marry that French bitch.”

Without wasting any time; Mary moved from her hiding spot in the tunnels and rushed to her chambers. Her husband and sons were the target of this attack, the chaos was just a distraction to get to them. She had to take her children and flee. Mary opened the hidden door in her room and heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that she was on time.

“Mary what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Greer stood up from her seat to come up to her.

“It’s Evander; this is an assassination attempt. His son is on his way to kill my children… we have to leave now!”

Mary’s words made everyone get up in alarm, Lola and Kenna ushered all of the occupants of the room through the secret passage. The sound of fighting at the door told them that they were out of time. Mary physically pushed them through the door, James had woken during the struggle and she had to plead with the boy to let her go and follow his aunts.

“No matter what you hear, do not come out. Don’t go too far, I don’t know what the situation is like outside. Stay here and don’t make a sound.”

Mary instructed Greer with hushed whispers.

“Mary, you cannot expect us to leave you here.”

Lola argued.

“It is not a request… I am ordering you to do as I say.”

The second that Mary clicked the passageway closed, the door to her chambers slammed open with a violent thud. She unsheathed her sword and took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the fight ahead. A man with raven hair and fair skin walked in with blood splattered on his kilt, his grey eyes turned dark as his hungry gaze swept over her figure. The arrogance and entitlement in his gait made his identity obvious.

“Malcom of Clan McFee, where is your father?”

Mary clutched the hilt of her sword and prayed to God that he wouldn’t notice that she was shaking.

“Mary, Queen of Scots; how I have waited to be with you. My father has promised you to me and I have come to collect.”

“Are you alone?”

The man scowled at her question.

“Your guards managed to kill my partner; but not to worry, I can handle you myself. Tell me where your brats are and I will make this relatively painless.”

“Rot in hell.”

She raised her weapon and took up a defensive stance like her husband taught her just yesterday. Malcom looked at her in amusement.

“What exactly do you plan on doing with that needle, silly girl?”

“Why don’t you come closer and find out?”

She leaped forward with her arm raised to strike; Malcom took out his own weapon and blocked her attack with such force that she staggered back. Mary tightened her grip on the blade just in time to parry his next move, her foot slipped an inch but she stepped back to make up for it.

“You are wasting your time and energy. Your husband is dead, soon his spawn will join him. That’s what you deserve for trying to pollute the Scottish bloodline.”

The news of Francis’s demise startled her and Mary lost her grip on her sword; with a simple twist of his wrist, Malcom disarmed her. The moment her weapon hit the floor she sprinted to the door but her attacker was faster. He caught her by the waist and slammed her body against the wall. Her head hit the stone and the darkness in her vision made her certain that her head was bleeding. Malcom’s grin shifted from triumphant to predatory as he pinned her body with his.

“Father said that you had to be unharmed but he also said to force you to marry me. What better way than to ruin you? Your precious cardinal will have no choice but to wed us.”

Fear and anger surged through her veins at his words. Mary saw flashbacks of that night in France and she struggled in his grip.

“Let me go!”

Her cries only resulted in Malcom tightening his grip on her neck.

“Shut up and let me enjoy this.”

He tore at the buttons of her coat with such brute force that the fabric fell away until she was left in her pants and corset. She felt his thigh push her legs apart and her eyes closed as tears streamed down her cheeks. It was happening again; she was at the mercy of another brute and this time no one was going to help her.

You cannot always expect help.

Francis was right; she has to be the one to help herself. She was not going to allow herself to be a helpless damsel, she would not be a victim again. This will not happen to her, not this time. Malcom’s hand was still at her throat while the other was busy trying to undo his trousers. Her eyes scanned the room and widened when her gaze landed on the metal stand right beside her. A glass vase was placed there for decoration.

Mary stretched her arms and almost grinned when she caught the vase. Malcom didn’t have time to react before she slammed the ornament against his head with all her might. The glass shattered on impact, leaving multiple shards embedded in his face and skull. Malcom cried out in agony as the shards tore through his skin, leaving him bloody. Mary pushed him off of her and ran to pick up her sword with a hiss, some of the glass shards had managed to slice into her palms and the stinging was unbearable.

“You frigid bitch! Get back here.”

Malcom’s face was red with blood and his right eye was swollen shut but he still tried to chase her. Not wanting to risk her safety or anyone else’s a moment longer; Mary gripped her sword through the pain and ran it through his chest with as much power as she could muster. He choked out an agonizing grunt and fell to his knees, Mary pulled out the sword to see his wound bleeding faster that a fountain. Less than a minute later, Malcom of Clan McFee was dead.

Mary dropped to the floor in exhaustion; after such an ordeal she felt like she could sleep for days. She was so close to closing her eyes when she heard footsteps coming from the hallways, they were hurried and too many for her to handle on her own but she stood up anyways. She reached for Malcom’s heavier sword, holding two blades in both her hands; she braced herself for a fight she knew she would not survive.

She raised her arms to attack when she saw movement at the door but they went slack at the sight of very familiar golden curls. His armour was dirty, his hair was matted with blood and grime but it was undeniably him; Francis.  Mary dropped her weapons and sprinted to cross the distance, jumping into the safety of his arms.

“Thank God you’re alive… I saw the bodies and I assumed the worst.”

He gave her a onceover and his eyes tightened at her state of dress.

“Who did this to you? Did he touch you?”

Mary pulled away to show him Malcom’s body.

“He tried to but I killed him. You were right… I didn’t wait for a rescue, I saved myself this time.”

 “My warrior Queen.”

He pressed his lips to hers in an urgency that spoke volumes to the fear that was in both their hearts.

“The kids are behind the secret passage.”

She murmured against his lips and Francis pulled away to ask one of the guards to see to them. Once everyone was accounted for and safe. Francis led Mary to the bathing chambers so they may wash off. Mary was dead on her feet; it was surprising to her that her husband didn’t feel the same lethargy that she did and when she asked him about it.

“It’s natural, some people are so energetic after a battle that they have trouble settling down while some people can crash immediately after.”

He explained while washing the blood off the back of her head, he applied an herbal poultice to the back of her head.

“You didn’t mention a head injury… Mary no wonder you feel tired. You lost blood today.”

Francis called for the physician when they returned to the bedchambers to find it clear of the dead body. They both dressed in long robes and cuddled under the blankets on the bed.

“What will we do about Clan McFee?”

Mary asked her husband.

“Evander and six of his sons are dead… three have fled and we have three in the dungeons. We can figure out the rest tomorrow.”

“But Francis…”

Mary’s protests were silenced with chaste kisses on her lips one after another until she broke out in giggles.

“We have both had an exhausting day… we are allowed one night to ourselves in peace.”

Mary smiled at his adoration. For the brief moment today when she’d thought that he was lost to her, she had been ready to give up but she chose to fight. Today felt like a second chance; to defend herself and her children the way she wished she could’ve done that fateful day in France. She fought with all that she had and she won, she proved to herself and her enemies that she was not a weak little girl. She was a woman and a Queen who would stop at nothing to protect those she loved, to do the right thing. She was just lucky that she was married to a man who pushed her to be the best version of herself.

“I love you Francis… always.”

His eyes softened at the unexpected emotion; he leaned in to press his lips to her forehead.

“Tu es l'amour de ma vie.”

Chapter Text

Château de Fontainebleau, France

Night had fallen by the time Princess Claude stumbled back to her chambers. Mere days ago, her entire world had come crashing down, her beloved sister had been a thorn in their side since the moment she returned to French Court but this was completely infuriating. Leeza’s interference reached new peaks and now she had manged to ruin Claude’s life. Losing Leith was a kind of agony that she didn’t anticipate; Claude’s life was filled with painful memories and injustices but learning that the man she loved was dead had completely wrecked her.

All she wanted was to forget the pain that consumed her and if her way involved drinking until she was blackout drunk and sleeping with whoever she wanted then it was her business and hers alone. Her bitch of a sister shouldn’t have stuck her large nose where it didn’t belong. It was not Claude’s fault that she was so boring that her husband couldn’t stand her or that she never got Mother’s attention, it was not fair that Leeza’s tantrums had to destroy Claude’s life too.

Now she was out of options, she had dodged so many suitors since Leith died but her luck had run out. Leeza’s spies had caught her with a man in her bed and was threatening to send her to the nunnery. In a dashing and heroic rescue, Narcisse suggested a betrothal to his son to punish her. Leeza was overjoyed at seeing her sold off to the highest bidder. Claude had begged Charles to help her stop the wedding but Leeza and Narcisse got to him too, she sent letters upon letters to Francis, begging for his aid but they all went unanswered.

Claude was currently staring at the wine in her cup; she had added an entire vial of her mother’s special poisons to her glass. Perhaps that was the best solution for everyone; Claude could be reunited with her beloved Leith; Leeza would finally have no competition for Mother’s affections and none of her brothers had to worry about her anymore. She knew Catherine wouldn’t care; it wouldn’t be the first time she would taste Medici poison.

She was just about to knock back the drink when the door to her chambers slammed open, revealing her mother and her sister. Seeing Leeza’s smug smile enraged her and without thinking she hurled the glass in her hand at her head. She watched as it hit her and she clutched her forehead in pain.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you an animal?”

Leeza cried out.

“Be grateful it wasn’t a knife, how I would love to tear out your heart.”

“I am saving this family’s reputation. How do you think it would look if a Catholic Princess was revealed to be a whore, nothing but a harlot.”

“Better than being a frigid bitch like you. Have you ever actually experienced an orgasm?”

Claude’s lewd retort made Leeza sputter and huff like a fish.

“That is enough! Leeza get out; I told you she doesn’t wish to see you.”

Catherine pushed the Queen of Spain outside the door and locked it shut before walking over to embrace Claude.

“I am deeply sorry that I cannot get you out of this. I wrote to Francis and even Mary but there seems to be no response from Scotland. They are facing a terrible drought so it must be busy there.”

“No one can help me now. I have no choice but to marry him, Mother how can I call him my husband when that was supposed to Leith?”

Catherine pushed a stray hair that had escaped her braid and caressed her cheek lovingly before pulling her into a hug.

“I may not have been able to help you escape the nunnery but when the time comes; I can make you a widow.”

Claude gaped at the twinkle in her mother’s eyes.

“What?”

“Stephane assures me that Luke is nothing like him but if the boy hurts you in any way, there will be one less Narcisse in the world.”

“You would truly do that for me?”

Claude couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You are my daughter Claude. Regardless of our differences, I would do anything for you.”

Maybe things wouldn’t have to be so dreary. If this truly is to be her fate then at least she could have faith that her mother would be at her side. Whatever her faults, there was no doubting that Catherine de Medici was devoted to her children.   

January 1563, Scotland

James Henry; Dauphin of France was ready to scream in frustration. He would like nothing more than to imagine his Latin tutor on fire, anything to get him away from such a boring lesson. Papa promised that this was to be a fun trip around his mother’s country but so far it has been anything but. Mama and Papa were always busy whenever they reached their stops so he and Eddie were stuck taking lessons.

It was not fair that Will was allowed to accompany Mama wherever she went, while him and his twin couldn’t. When he tried to protest, he would always be told that if Eddie had no complaints, then he shouldn’t either. It was not his fault that his younger brother would rather stay in the library and read than play outside. They were barely four years old; they were too little to stop having adventures and be boring like mister tutor.

The little raven-haired boy could feel his eyelids getting heavy and his legs were swinging in his chair, the words on the page in front of him were swimming and he couldn’t make head nor tail of it. James let out a yawn, which caused mister tutor to turn his attention from the lesson to him.

“Am I boring you Prince James?”

The greying old man arched an eyebrow while his lips pursed into a displeased frown. James nodded his head while putting on his cutest doe eyed expression; it always worked on Mama and Papa.

“May I go play?”

Edward looked at his twin and smacked his forehead like he’d seen Aunt Greer do when she was annoyed. It was just like Jamie to try and escape their lessons.

“I think we must finish our reading Sir.”

James turned to glare at his twin.

“No one asked you little brother.”

“I am not little! We are the same age.”

“I was born first that is why I am Papa’s heir.”

“Well, I will rule two countries.”

Edward replied with his chin up in pride.

“France is prettier.”

James countered.

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

Mister tutor pinched the bridge of his nose to reign in his anger lest he scream at the bickering boys.

“Prince James! Prince Edward! Cease this nonsense or I will have to call your father.”

The two boys paused their spat instantly and changed their tune.

“No Sir, we will be good.”

“Please don’t tell Papa.”

James added with wide eyes.

If there was one thing that could make the two boys behave it was the threat of letting their father know of their antics. The princes never wished to disappoint the King; while they feared their mother’s disappointment just as much, Francis was a completely different story. That was partly due to the way the boys saw him as their hero and partly because of the way Francis expressed his displeasure. Unlike Mary; who would scold them and punish them, Francis would become silent and hurt. He would make such a heartbroken display that the boys would scramble to him with their apologies. He was the same with everyone; which is why the entire family hated to fail him.

 “Alright then; I will keep this display to myself if you complete your lines. After that you can go play.”

It took less than twenty minutes for the little boys to be done with their lines and by then their tutor was all too happy to relieve his charges. James shot out of his seat like a cat and pounced for the door while Edward stayed behind to thank his teacher for the lesson. When Edward joined his brother outside the library, his twin was grinning in excitement.

“We should have an adventure, Eddie.”

The blonde twin nervously shifted on his feet.

“What kind of adventure? Will we not get in trouble? We should wait for Nanny Emilie to return.”

“Come on brother! Stop being so boring.”

“Oh okay, but if Mama and Papa get mad, I’m telling on you.”

Jamie beamed in response and skipped away, buzzing with mischief.

“You always do; now hurry up!”

While Jamie and Eddie were busy cajoling the kitchen staff into letting them have sweets, Mary was having tea with their hosts. The matriarch of Clan Fraser was an elderly lady with a brutal honesty that was a breath of fresh air after the months of manipulations and wavering loyalties. The women were chatting amongst each other but Mary’s mind was somewhere else. The entirety of their travels she was feeling ill; for the longest time she believed that all the moving was disagreeing with her, she knew that many people felt nauseated during carriage rides. It was only when the rest of the symptoms began showing, did she understand the true reason behind her sickness.

Mary’s morning was spent with the physician they were travelling with, taking their children along meant that a doctor had to accompany them, true to her suspicions; the Queen was once again with child. According to the tests and her symptoms, she had conceived somewhere between the end of November and the start of December, placing her just a shy of eight weeks.  She had yet to share the news with anyone but she was sure that her husband would be over the moon.

“Is there something not to your liking, my dear?”

Lady Fraser’s grey eyebrows were furrowed in concern. She had been observing the young queen and had noticed how she had been avoiding her meals for quite some time, even now she had barely touched her tea.

“Of course not, everything is perfect. I was simply lost in thought.”

The Lady Sophia smiled at her Queen before turning to her mother-in-law.

“I am sure the Queen has much on her mind.”

“Tell me then; how long do you and your husband plan to remain in Scotland?”

Mary pursed her lips in thought; in truth they hadn’t had many discussions regarding their return to France but she could tell that her husband missed his home. They had agreed to return after the birth of their fourth child but that was when they had first started trying. Mary wasn’t even sure that Francis remembered but she wanted to uphold her promise either way.

“This might be our last year in Scotland, I think we may depart after the summer storms cease. We would be away from French Court for nearly three years by then.”

Lady Fraser scowled at the answer.

“Will you then forget about your roots? The young princes have only just learned their mother tongue the proper way, take them away and they will forget their culture.”

“Mother!”

Mary lowered her gaze to her lap and took a deep breath to calm herself before answering.

“My children are just as much Valois as they are Stuart and as such, they will always remain in touch with both of their cultures.”

Lady Fraser placed her teacup on the table in front of her and regarded her with a blank stare.

“You and the King have worked so hard to prove that Scotland is your priority, your return to France will ruin all of the goodwill you have fostered in your nation.”

“Mother they must divide their time equally between their two nations.”

Lady Sophia jumped in the conversation to try and diffuse the tempers.

“Hmph! They’ll return and French Court will poison them once again, imagine what those vipers will do our sweet princes.”

“My Lady with all due respect, and I do respect you tremendously; you are not my mother and while I am glad that you feel comfortable expressing your concerns, my husband and I will act in whichever way we decide is best. Whether we leave tomorrow or years from now, it will be our decision and ours only.”

Not wanting to wait and hear the elder woman burst in anger, Mary stood up from her seat with a smiled on her lips as she nodded to the two ladies and thanked them for a lovely tea.

The rest of the evening was spent holed up in the office with her husband, Lord Fraser and his two sons. The winter this year had been extremely bitter in Scotland and it had led to a difficult drought and shortage of crops followed by a winter sickness in cattle. The state of the country was the one of the reasons that they had made the decision to tour the Highlands and Lowlands not only did it help to personally meet with their people but they also helped by distributing grain that arrived from France and England.

Less than an hour later, the head nanny rushed into the Lord’s study with heaving breaths making everyone rise to their feet in alarm.

“What’s wrong? Is something happened to the children?”

Francis asked her, ready to rush off to his sons. The woman sobbed into her hand and begged for mercy, Mary strode forward to clutch her shoulders, forcing her to meet the Queen’s eye.

“Emilie talk to me; what has happened?”

“It’s the princes James and Edward, I have been searching everywhere for them but they are nowhere to be found.”

Francis resisted the urge to throw something at the blubbering woman.

“Are you telling me that my sons have been missing for God knows how long and you are only coming to us now? When was the last time you saw them?”

“I took them to their lessons after breakfast, the tutors assure me that they were in the library all morning and afternoon. They were relieved by their Latin teacher.”

“Wasn’t Kate supposed to watch them after that?”

Mary gently asked, there was no point in both of them trying to scare the poor lady.

“I asked but she was taken ill because of the cold and didn’t come for her duty.”

“Emilie why was I not notified immediately?”

Emilie opened her mouth to answer but Francis cut her off.

“The how and why do not matter, we must begin searching at once.”

If the boys truly had been missing for hours, then there was no telling where they could be. The parents prayed that they were hiding somewhere in the estate. Mary left with Emilie to meet with Professor Douglas as he seemed to be the last person to see her babies. Francis on the other hand went with Lord Fraser to search the parts of the estate no one else would think to look. It quickly became certain that their search was fruitless, James and Edward were nowhere to be found. Mary had learned from the kitchens that her boys had come for snacks after their lessons and had shared with the pastry chef that they were on an adventure but nothing else.

Forty minutes later they all rendezvoused in the receiving parlour of the Fraser estate. Mary collapsed on the nearest cushioned seat, the stress of her condition coupled with the disappearance of her precious boys was crushing for her and it took every ounce of her etiquette training to hold back her tears.

“They are not on the grounds.”

Lord Fraser was a man of few words and emotions but even he looked unsettled and Mary knew why. If it got out how the Crown Princes of Scotland, England and France went missing on his lands, his credibility would be tarnished forever.

“The ground is covered high in snow and it’s almost nightfall, there is only thing left to do… I am going out to look for them myself.”

“Your majesty! You are the King.”

“My sons are out there! They could die out in the cold; do you think I give a damn about myself?”

Francis roared at the man, making him step back from the king’s anger.

“Can we have a moment please?”

The Queen’s voice was tight and subdued but it was enough to make everyone but her husband clear the room. As soon as they were left alone, Francis came to sit beside her to gather her into his arms.

“You seem to be handling this better than I do.”

“I’m dying inside.”

“Mary…”

The tears that she was keeping at bay finally escaped.

“My sweet boys must be so terrified, so cold. All I can think about is them huddled together and shivering, calling out for us.”

“Hey, I will go look for them and I will bring our sons home, I swear to you.”

“Then hurry Francis.”

He stood up and offered her his arm to help her rise from her seat.

“You should come with me; I am sure you will find it easier to breathe if you were out there looking for them.”

“I wish I could but I can’t.”

Francis frowned at her refusal; Mary should’ve leapt into action the moment he mentioned it.

“I don’t understand… I thought you would agree without hesitation.”

She exhaled sharply.

“Under normal circumstances I would but I don’t want to risk it now. The cold and the riding would be too dangerous in my condition.”

“And what condition is that?”

Mary held his hands and brought them to her mouth to press kisses onto his skin.

“We are expecting a child once more.”

“Oh my love!”

He pulled her into an embrace.

“Find our sons Francis, so we may tell them that they will soon have another sibling to play with.”

“I will leave now.”

He stepped away and walked out of the room, leaving his wife to clutch her chest and pray for the safety of her family.

Eddie cried out in pain when his ice-cold toes hit a stone, his entire body was shivering from the chill.

“I am never ever listening to you again.”

He was cold, tired and hungry; all because Jamie wanted to go looking for winter roses for Mama.

“We got the roses, didn’t we?”

Jamie touched the pocket of his jacket in which he’d tucked the special blooms. Their Scots and Gaelic tutor had told them a legend of winter roses that only grew in the Scottish Highlands. She said that the flowers were magic and could cure any sickness while giving the person who ate them a long life. Jamie didn’t understand much about how it worked but when Eddie mentioned that Mama was sick, he wanted to find the magical flower.

“Look around stupid! We are lost! Papa will be so mad and Mama will take away all our toys.”

“You are stupid! You didn’t have to come with me.”

James crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out at his brother. He was just about to retort with a snarky remark when they heard the rustling of leaves. Both boys pulled out the knives that they took from their mother’s collection, they were long enough to act as swords in their little hands. James gripped his weapon like he’d seen his father do and cautiously walked to the sound.

“Are you stupid? What if it’s a monster?”

Edward whispered from behind his shoulder.

“Monsters are not real.”

Jamie’s bravado faltered when they saw a shape moving behind the trees surrounding them. Next came the sound of growling and sniffing.

“We have to run Eddie or it will eat us.”

Two bright eyes shined in the moonlight just before the animal pounced before them, making both boys hold on to each other and scream in terror. James tried to swing his sword to protect them but the creature kept advancing. It was only when the light was bright enough that they realised that the animal was very familiar.

“Stirling!”

Edward cried out in relief as he rushed to hug their family pet. The Scottish Deerhound stood tall and affectionately licked the faces of both the little boys.

“Is Papa close too Stirling?”

Jamie asked while petting the dark fur of their dog, he was answered by a nudge and a woof. Stirling crouched down so that his body was lowered before the princes.

“I think he wants us to hop on his back.”

“Don’t be silly Jamie! Mama always said that Stirling is not a horse.”

Jamie ignored his brother and climbed on the large hound’s back.

“These are special sirsimtances.”

Eddie simply narrowed his eyes.

“You mean circumstances.”

“Whatever, just hop on. Striling will take us to Papa.”

Stirling gave another woof of agreement and nudged the blonde boy, seeing that he was outnumbered he climbed up to sit behind his brother. As soon as the two boys were seated, Stirling made a mad dash towards the main castle grounds; James and Edward holding on for dear life.

“If Papa scolds us, I am blaming you.”

James only grinned in response; he was having too much fun on Stirling’s back and feeling the wind in his hair. Too soon they skidded to a stop as Stirling howled to catch the attention of the horses in the distance. Edward shrieked in joy and terror when they saw their father’s black stallion galloping towards them at great speed. Papa dismounted off the horse with a heroic leap and ran the last few steps to crush both the boys to his chest.

“Oh, thank God!”

He pulled back to look them over head to toe, running his hands up and down their bodies to check for injuries. Once he was certain that his sons were uninjured, he took in their quivering forms and chattering teeth, Papa unclasped his fur cloak and wrapped it tightly around them both.

“Let’s get back inside, the two of you need a warm bath and a hot meal. Then you can tell us what you were thinking sneaking out. Your mother and I were so worried about you.”

“But Papa…”

Jamie’s pleading was cut off with a glare from his father. Francis picked up both of his sons and helped them climb his horse such that they remained huddled under the warmth of his cloak. The ride back to the Fraser Estate was quiet and tense, neither of the boys had the courage to explain themselves in the face of their father’s fury.

When they finally reached the warmth of their current home, Mama was waiting for them. She stood before the gates and was pacing, her woollen shawl wrapped around her body as she paced back and forth in the cold courtyard. The instant the gates opened she rushed to reach them; Papa helped them down so that they cold go to their mother. Mama pulled them into a loving embrace, her entire body was shaking with sobs.  

“Mama we’re so sorry.”

Eddie whispered into her shoulder.

“We only wanted to get you the magical flowers.”

Mary frowned at her eldest son in confusion.

“Magical flowers…”

She gasped in surprise when James revealed the sparkling blue roses in his hand, the petals glittered like sliver in the moonlight.

“…Are those winter roses? I thought they were a myth.”

Francis knelt down to see the otherworldly blooms.

“Eddie said you were ill so we got them for you.”

Mary smiled through her tears; every ounce of anger disappeared at the earnestness in her son’s eyes. She cupped the two boys’ faces in each of her hand.

“My darling princes! Mama loves you so much.”

Francis tucked his family close, placing a kiss on both of his sons’ foreheads.

“Papa does too, even if he is very cross with you. Rest assured there will be consequences for your adventures.”

James looked from Papa’s twinkling eyes to Mama in hopes of a reprieve but she shook her head.

“Your father is right. As noble as your intentions may be, what you did today was very dangerous and unacceptable. You terrified us and you will be punished so you know that this cannot happen again; ever.”

James and Edward shared defeated looks and hung their heads.

“We’re very sorry.”

Edward immediately apologised and elbowed his brother, urging him to do the same.

“Very very sorry and we promise never to sneak away again.”

Francis squeezed their shoulder and nodded in approval.

“Now come; let’s get you both warmed up. There’s soup and hot cocoa waiting for you upstairs.”

Mary watched in amusement as both their eyes widened in delight at her words. As they made their way up to their chambers, Francis and Mary shared a glance of understanding. Punishments could wait until tomorrow, right now the boys needed to be surrounded by the warmth of their loving family. They just hoped that William didn’t cry when he heard the news that he would not be the youngest child for much longer.

Chateau de Fontainebleau, France

The Lord Chancellor of France watched in triumph from the window as his daughter-in-law bid a teary-eyed farewell to her lover. Initially he had cursed Luke’s good heart when he allowed the former kitchen boy remain at court, it irked him to know that his son was made a cuckold when he had so much potential. The marriage with Princess Claude was a carefully negotiated engagement with Queen Leeza and Catherine. To see his stupid son throw it away out of some misguided sense of honour had irritated him. However, seeing how soon the arrangement between Claude, Leith and Luke fell apart made him proud of his son. Poor Leith couldn’t even share for more than two months and was fleeing court with his tail between his legs.

Now Luke had the perfect opportunity to cement his position in the royal family. Being the husband of the Princess gave him the kind of prestige that Stephane could benefit from. His grandchildren would be of royal blood and it wouldn’t be difficult to convince his son to accept a title from the King, if Francis could make his bastard brother a Duke and his son a Baron, Luke could be titled too. Stephane would soon have everything he ever wanted; if only his wife could return then his life would be perfect.

He could admit that he hadn’t given Lola the time and space she needed to be the perfect wife for him. Turning to Catherine was an egregious error that he wished he could take back. He wasn’t foolish enough to dismiss that his infidelity might have been the cause of Lola’s refusal to return to France with him. It’s been nearly two years since he last saw Lola, she had recently begun to reply to his weekly letters but even those felt lacklustre compared to her presence.

The door to his chambers suddenly pushed open and Stephane turned to attack the person who had the audacity of disturbing him when he registered the figure at the threshold. Curls pinned up to expose her delicate collarbones and dressed in a lowcut seafoam green gown was the woman of his thoughts. Stephane blinked to make sure that he was not simply drunk but she was still there.

“Are you really here?”

He breathed out, prompting a nervous smile from his wife.

“I simply got tired of reading your letters, it becomes wearisome after some time. Besides, winters in Scotland are much too long.”

He laughed at her nonchalance.

“Does this mean you agree to us trying again? Will you give me another chance?”

Lola’s blue eyes glistened with emotion.

“I love you, Stephane; that has never changed but I do not know if I can trust you.”

He crossed the room to hold her hands.

“I deeply regret my actions and if I could do it all over again…”

“But you can’t… we can only move forward.”

“I promise you Lola, I will do whatever I can to prove my loyalty to you.”

Lola’s lips curved into a smile.

“That is just what I wanted to hear. I am willing to give you a second chance.”

Stephane leaned forward to capture her supple lips into a searing kiss.

“But remember this Stephane, this is also your last chance. Betray me again and I will walk out of this marriage for good.”

Chapter Text

Chateau de Fontainebleau, France

June 1563

After two years away Henri de Valois breathed in the familiar air of his childhood home. Even at thirteen years old, his height had reached to it’s peak and he was able to face many adults in his life without needing to crane his neck. The time he spent in Spain was instrumental in his personal growth; training with the best swordsmen and shadowing King Philip himself made him the kind of man that he knew his older brother could never be. After six months of battling the Turks at Philip’s side, he could confidently say that he could take out the Prince Regent in a fight wearing a blindfold and with his arms tied behind his back. Finally, after so many years of being overshadowed by his older brother, they were only a year apart, he had the power and confidence that Charles could only dream of.

Henri strode into the dimly lit throne room with a swagger that only he possessed. It was well past midnight and the entire castle was asleep so no one stopped him. He had heard that all the prestige and power of the regency was getting to his brother’s head. Leeza had called him back to French Court so that he may petition to take his brother’s place as Regent. First, he needed a position as an advisor, something Leeza assured him that Stephane Narcisse would be able to arrange.

Henri walked towards the two thrones and regarded the taller one with a lustful grin. Leeza had told him that Charles had taken to sitting the King’s throne more and more frequently. He stepped on the dais softly and lowered himself to sit the throne. The world looked so much smaller when one was King, a simple chair could hold so much power and Henri couldn’t wait until it was all in his hands. Mother and Father had disregarded him his whole life; the spare to the spare but now they would see that he was a better Valois and a better Medici than either of his brothers. He was the one who would make both his parents proud.

All he needed was one chance to prove himself.

Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh

August 1563

The gruelling and dry winter was thankfully followed by a summer that brought frequent showers and plenty of sunlight. According to the farmers and landlords, it was a boon to a Scotland that emerged from drought. As the Queen of Scotland, Mary should have been equally celebrating the tropical weather but seeing as she was about to give birth any day; the humidity and the heat was unbearable.

With a grunt of pain, the queen heaved herself off her bed to dress for the day. This was arguably the most difficult pregnancy she had so far, the sickness was so extreme that even now she could barely keep food down. While the babe in her womb grew healthier and bigger, her own lethargy caused her to lose weight instead of gaining it like she had with her boys. She was weaker and more fragile than she had ever been and she hated every moment of it. Just as she was done putting on a comfortable silk gown, the door to her chambers opened.

Prince William was the first person to skip into the room, his golden curls bouncing with every step and his cerulean eyes twinkling with mischief. The two-year-old had taken to running around the palace playing pranks with his eldest brother, James and William were terrors together, always managing to rope Edward into their antics. Even now, his smile as he hugged his mother’s legs suggested he was up to something.

“Good morning, Mama.”

She picked up the boy so that he could kiss her cheek in greeting, just as the rest of her boys came inside. James was chatting with his father while Edward ran up to his mother.

“Mama you’re not supposed to pick us up.”

The Duke of Rothsay scolded with his hands crossed over his chest. Francis put down the breakfast tray in his hands before taking William from her.

“Edward is right… you have to take it easy… the doctors have you on bedrest till the baby comes. Don’t ask Mama to pick you up William.”

“But Papa…”

The boy’s complaints were silenced with a look from his father. The family moved to the private balcony connected to their chambers to enjoy their morning meal. The princes indulged in the pastries while their mother gingerly sipped her herbal tea, looking much too green for it to be healthy.

“Are your medicines not working?”

Francis frowned at the nauseated expression on his wife’s face.

“Depends on the day honestly… I didn’t expect it to be this difficult.”

“I feel helpless… I should be able to do more.”

Mary reached for her husband’s hand across the table and smiled reassuringly.

“You are doing more than enough… not only are you single handedly ruling both Scotland and France, you are taking care of the children as well.”

“They are three energetic boys, the last thing you need is dealing with their hyperactivity on top of your condition. You are supposed to be relaxed and stress-free. I love them more than anything but they are a handful.”

“We know you are talking about us.”

Jamie jumped in the conversation, making it obvious that the boys were eavesdropping.

“Yeah… we take care of Mama too.”

Eddie added, making Mary laugh at the hole her husband had dug himself into.

“What do you have to say for yourself Papa?”

Francis narrowed his eyes at his wife’s jape.

“I see how it is… I am severely outnumbered here, seems a bit unfair.”

William stood up on his chair and aimed his fork at his father.

“Papa you bad boy… no desserts for you.”

“Hear that dear husband? Prince William has made his decision.”

 Francis shook his head at the chaos that were his children and put up his hands in surrender.

“I beg for mercy… please pardon me, my princes.”

The three boys whispered loudly to one another.

“He says sorry.”

“He also said we tire Mama.”

“Well, the two of you are tiresome.”

“Shut up Edward!”

“James! Do not badmouth your brother.”

Mary cut into their whispering.

“Sorry Mama.”

A moment later, three pairs of eyes blinked owlishly at the king. Edward was the one to speak.

“After careful consideration, we have decided to forgive you Papa.”

Francis let out an exaggerated sigh of relief; the way Edward spoke always floored him. The boy was quiet and would rather read than play with his brothers but whenever he said something, it was with an eloquence that no other four-year-old seemed to possess. Mary gently hugged the boys and gave all three of them kisses.

“Now that we have all made up… it’s time for your lessons boys, run to your nursery so nanny Emilie can dress you.”

It took a bit of convincing but they managed to get the boys to leave for their studies. It was extremely important for the little ones to stay on routine during this tough time. Once they were alone, Francis picked up the envelope he had brought with him and handed it over to his wife.

“These are all the reports dispatched from France in the past two weeks and letters from Mother.”

“You’re worried about Charles.”

Francis scoffed.

“I am furious with Charles, I thought he understood his role in my absence. We had so many discussions when I was ill. I did not expect him to have a power trip.”

“He is a teenage boy who has been handed an entire country.”

“Except that is not true, Charles was supposed to be a figurehead to let my mother and Narcisse manage things without inflaming Catherine’s enemies. It’s like he has forgotten that he is not king.”

Francis massaged his temples with his fingers, it was early in the morning and he could already feel a headache coming in.

“Why don’t you write to him? Surely, he’ll listen to you if you tell him to back off?”

 “I’ve already tried that… he is more concerned with one-upping Henri than taking my advice. All I get from him are complaints on how Henri is undermining his authority.”

Mary nibbled on a piece of toasted bread while she observed the tension in her husband’s posture.

“Do you think Charles’s accusations are justified or is he merely paranoid?”

“Oh, I have no doubt that Henri is playing with him. The two of them have a sickening need to compete with one another.”

“They are brothers and close in age, it’s normal.”

“Our sons don’t have such animosity.”

Mary chuckled at his offended scowl.

“Because they are children, their fights are over toys and pastries.”

“If our sons ever behave like my brothers, I will send all three of them to the armies.”

“Francis Valois; if you ever try to send our sons away, I will make you regret it.”

Her husband slumped in his chair at her burst of anger, for a moment he’d forgotten how temperamental she was during her pregnancies.

“I am certain that it will never come to that, they are good boys… all three of them. And I’m sure our princess will follow her brothers’ example.”

He punctuated his statement by placing a hand on his wife’s rounded belly, laughing in delight when he felt the babe kick against his palm.

“I don’t know Francis. Your daughter sure is hellbent on making me miserable. I look a fright and I haven’t been able to get out of this stuffy room in weeks. I feel suffocated.”

Francis pulled up his chair closer to Mary so she could lean on his shoulder. He cupped her belly and lifted it to offer her some sort of relief from carrying the child, her poor back must be killing her.

“I’ll talk to the doctors and see if we can arrange for a small carriage ride on the grounds. The fresh air should be good for you.”

Mary thanked him with a chaste kiss. Their intimacy and physical affection had diminished too quickly in this pregnancy. Mary was continuously ill and the summer heat made her skin oversensitive. She had been showing aversion to touch and would get irritated if someone came too close.

“I think a few hours away from this place is exactly what I need.”

The bedchambers were bathed in the sounds of heavy breaths, pants and pleasurable moans; the air around them thick with tension and the tell-tale scent of sex. Sebastian cried out as he climaxed and immediately pushed himself off of his wife, rolling over on the bed so he could reach for his breaches. Kenna leaned on her elbows to push herself up against the headrest of her bed.

“This won’t happen again.”

Bash grunted out while he was busy dressing causing Kenna to roll her eyes.

“You’ve been saying that for weeks and yet here we are. Face it Bash, you simply can’t stay away.”

 Kenna hopped off the bed with no regard to propriety; it was funny how Bash couldn’t bare to look at her body after sleeping with her. Perhaps it was his way of detaching himself from what he repeatedly deemed a mistake, the man couldn’t stop making the same mistakes. She walked over to her dresser to pull out a new dress, seeing as her husband had torn the ties on the one she was previously wearing.

“I have to help Mary get ready for her evening out and then Greer and I need to meet with the kitchen staff for this week’s menu. Can you keep an eye on Freya? She’s been feeling neglected lately because of my busy schedule.”  

“You do not have to ask me to look after my daughter Kenna, it’s not a favour to you. I would happily do it anyways.”

Her chestnut eyes softened at the adoration in his tone as he spoke of their little girl. After his initial challenges with parenthood, Bash had taken to fatherhood like a fish to water. Freya loved her Papa and Bash was wonderfully patient with her. It was probably why things between the two of them had gotten a bit better. While she was aware that Bash didn’t forgive her past actions, he was willing to put it behind them for the sake of their daughter.

“I don’t have much to do today anyways; the few letters I have to write can be done later. Maybe I can take the children to the gardens after their lessons.”

Bash offered with a smile.

“They’ll like that; it’ll put Francis and Mary at ease too. They’ve been under too much stress.”

“We all have Kenna… things back home are not looking to great. We will have to return to France very soon.”

She nodded at her husband before opening the doors to her bedchambers.

“I guess I’ll see you at supper then.”

Bash hummed an agreement and sidestepped her so he could get out without being to close to her. Kenna shook her head at his awkward behaviour and went in the opposite direction.

Mary sighed in relief as her overheated and sweaty body was submerged in the cold water of her bath, the smell of peppermint of her bath salts permeating the air of her bathing chambers. One of her handmaidens was washing her hair with gentle strokes that almost put her to sleep while the other massaged her swollen feet. As much she liked to maintain her independence, in the past few months she had learned to accept the constant hovering of servants, doctors, midwives and her overprotective family.

In the last nine months of her pregnancy, she has nearly lost her babe thrice; three terrifying times that she had almost died. The latest miscarriage scare was merely two weeks ago and she had bled so much that it was a miracle that both her and her child were still alive. That was the reason why she had yet to leave her quarters, the doctors had ordered her to strict bedrest and no stress till the baby came.

Mary had just stepped out of her bath with the help of her handmaidens when Kenna and Greer entered her bedchambers with a tray of tea along with her medicinal herbs. Putting on a silk robe, the queen made her way to her vanity and picked up her hairbrush. Greer stepped behind her and reached for the brush in her hand.

“Let me braid your hair, an updo should do nicely… so your hair doesn’t irritate you.”

Mary relinquished her hold on her hair and grudgingly accepted the bitter tea from Kenna. The Duchess of Blois was leaning against the vanity so she could keep an eye on Mary but her mind was elsewhere. She was still thinking about her tumble in the sheets with Bash.

“Is everything alright Kenna? You seem lost in thought.”

Mary observed her while she sipped from her cup.

“She’s probably thinking about the fact that I caught Bash coming from her chambers just now with teeth marks on his neck.”

Mary nearly dropped her tea at Greer’s words, her eyes widened in disbelief as she gaped at her sister-in-law.

“I thought you said you’d stop! That was weeks ago Kenna.”

Kenna slumped to the floor and groaned in embarrassment.

“I know! It just keeps happening… he’s just so good at making me…”

“He’s like my brother Kenna.”

Mary covered her ears with her face scrunched up in disgust, Greer laughed at her reaction and stepped back to admire the braided bun she had fashioned.

“Oh, grow up Mary; I’ve heard all about the dirty details of your intimacies… at least Bash and I stick to our bedchambers.”

 “It’s true though… didn’t you say you conceived this baby in the gardens at Edinburgh?”

Greer asked Mary who blushed redder than a tomato at the reminder.

“Never mind that... Kenna you need to stop whatever convoluted relationship you have created with Bash. This will only end in tragedy and you cannot allow your desires to wreck your marriage more than it already is.”

Kenna got up from her spot on the floor and made her way to the Queen’s armoire to pull out a selection of dresses. Mary and Greer exchanged looks of concern.

“Honestly, I keep hoping that these encounters will soften his heart. That Bash will remember how good we were when we were together. I keep holding out for his forgiveness… I just wish for the three of us to be a family.”

Mary got up from her seat with Greer’s help to pull her friend into an embrace.

“Sex cannot fix your marriage Kenna, no matter how much you will it so. Does Freya know?”

She shook her head at the question.

“We are careful… Freya will only hold out hope and be disappointed like me.”

A tear slipped past Kenna’s cheek and she looked up from Mary’s shoulder to see that Greer had joined their hug.

“Whatever the future brings… just know that you and Freya will always have us.”

Greer smile reassuringly as she wiped the tears from her skin.

“Talk to him Kenna. You understand that right after I give birth, we will depart for France, right? You and Bash need to decide what your marriage will look like because you know what French Court is like. If you two are odds there, it will destroy Freya and that cannot happen.”

“I understand that Mary but… I am terrified that even after all these months I will only receive his ire.”

“I will talk to him for you if you want.”

Kenna shook her head at the offer, taking a step back she noticed that they were no longer alone.

“Francis!”

The ladies detached at the presence of the king, who cocked his head as his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

“Am I interrupting something? Why isn’t my wife ready yet?”

It was only at those words did they remember the real reason for Greer and Kenna’s presence.

“It will only be a moment… could you wait outside?”

Mary smiled sheepishly at her husband.

As soon as he left the room, Kenna picked up a lilac gown with beaded crystal embellishments.

“Let’s get you ready for your romantic evening.”

When the carriage stopped somewhere in the middle of the forests surrounding the palace grounds, Mary turned to her husband in confusion. She didn’t think that they would be stopping in such a strange location, there was nothing but trees for quite some distance. When Francis opened the door of their carriage and got out, she couldn’t keep in her curiosity.

“Why are we stopping here?”

She accepted the offered hand without hesitation, allowing him to lift her out of the carriage.

“There’s a spring here that I wanted to show you. The water’s cooler than your baths and I just thought that we could leave our clothes on the ground and go for a swim.”

Mary sighed at the thought of a frolicking in the water together.

“That sounds wonderful.”

She gestured for him to lead the way but he didn’t move. Instead, her husband placed his hand under her knees and lifted her into his arms. Mary shrieked at the quick movement and clutched his shoulders for dear life.

“What are you doing? Put me down Francis I am heavy.”

Francis merely chuckled and began walking deeper into the forest.

“I promised your doctors that you will not be on your feet too long. And you are not heavy at all… in fact even with the baby, you’ve never been lighter… it’s quite concerning actually.”

“Can you please stop fussing for just one evening?”

Mary huffed in irritation which caused her husband to turn apologetic. The rest of the walk towards the spring was in a comfortable silence. While she hadn’t liked that Francis considered her too weak to even walk on her own, she had to admit that she like being carried by him. The steps he took lulled her in a way that soothed her ever present nausea, that combined with the sound of his heartbeat against her ears relaxed her to such an extent that she was pretty sure she fell asleep.

Francis stopped when they reached their destination but when he turned his attention to his wife to gauge her reaction her eyes were closed and she was breathing softly. He smiled fondly to himself as a rush of emotions filled his heart, she truly was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. Which was interesting considering that the scenery surrounding him could only be described as enchanting. He nudged her and murmured her name to wake her; when Mary opened her eyes it was clear that she hadn’t even realised that she had fallen asleep.

“Oh Francis; it’s beautiful.”

Mary looked around her with sparkling wide eyes and wonder. The trees were surrounding the spring in such a way that they cast a green hue, small streaks of sunlight filtered through the thick leaves to illuminate the area. The water flowed from the rocks into a small lake that glittered in shades of green, yellow and orange. On the surface of the water there was a spattering of pure white, water lilies. Mary closed her eyes and stepped closer to the water, the hem of her gown beginning to grow wet as she took off her slippers to feel the cold water against her skin. She breathed the crisp and sweet air of the woods and flowers, a gentle breeze brushed against her skin to soothe the heat she was constantly feeling.

There was no sound other that the rush of water and rustling of leaves, it was all so peaceful that the queen wished never to leave. Francis shed the travelling cloak and doublet he was wearing until he was left in his linen tunic and pants. The lack of layers made it easier for him to feel the air around him the way his wife was. He couldn’t help but watch as her usually sickened skin glowed as she stepped further and further into the spring.

“How did you find this place?”

Mary turned to see that her husband had joined her in the water.

“I came across this on my morning rides a few days ago, I’ve wanted to bring you here for some time now. I knew you’d love it.”

“I never knew that such a wonderful place was so close to our home. We should bring the boys here next time.”

Francis laughed as images of his sons’ affinity for swimming came to mind.

“The twins are like fish… do you remember you much they loved the lake on the grounds at Fontainebleau?”

“Now I won’t fear that they’d drown either.”

Not only was the water shallow enough to prevent any drowning, the boys were also old enough to handle themselves.

Mary spun around to take in the scenery around her with a thoughtful smile on her lips which sparked a curiosity in Francis. He stepped closer to take her hand to grab her attention.

“What are you thinking about my love?”

“I am thinking about how much I would have liked for us to be married here. It seems almost magical to me… like it’s a drawing in a storybook. This place looks like a fairytale.”

There was a wistful glimmer in her amber eyes that clenched at Francis’s heart and without thinking he reached for his wedding band and took it off. The gold ring studded with a deep red ruby matched the daintier ring around his wife’s finger. He gently removed the ring from Mary’s left hand.

“What are you doing?”

“You wished to get married here.”

“We are already wed.”

Mary’s deadpanned expression made him laugh.

“That should not limit us. I could marry you a thousand times if you asked me to.”

The cheeky grin and twinkle in his crystal eyes convinced her. Mary plucked Francis’s wedding ring from his hands and reached to hold him. Her mind drifted to their marriage ceremony at Notre Dame Cathedral, to the bliss that she felt that day and her heart bloomed with emotion. Mary didn’t know how it was possible to fall in love with the someone over and over again but standing there, surrounded by nature’s beauty she couldn’t help herself.

Francis took Mary’s right hand and repeated the same vows he had once said to her years ago.

“I, Francis II of the House of Valois, take thee Mary Stuart to my wedded wyfe, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, to love and to cheryshe, till death us departe; according to Gods holy ordinance, and therto I plight thy my trouth.”

He ended the vows with a kiss to her knuckles, making her let out a choked laugh.

“I, Mary of the House of Stuart, take thee Francis Valois to my wedded husbande, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us departe, according to Gods holy ordinance: and therto I give thy my trouth.”  

Mary wrinkled her nose at the word obey, at which Francis wriggled his eyebrows to tease her with a playful smirk. He held the ring in his hands and spoke the next words before sliding it onto the fourth finger of her left hand.

“With this ring I thee wed: with my body I thee worship: and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Ghost. Amen.”

Mary repeated his words after that, placing his own wedding ring and kissing the palm of his left hand before pulling him closer to capture his lips with hers.

“Now that we are wed… I believe it is mandatory for us to consummate our union.”

She whispered to her husband, watching in delight as his eyes widened.

“Are you sure? The baby…”

“She’s fine and has settled down. Please Francis… I don’t know when we’ll next get the chance and I want you.”

Without wasting any time, the king pulled at the strings tying his wife’s gown together. He wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to make love to her. Mary laughed freely at his eagerness and moved to help him shrug off his own garments. They were going to take every advantage of their alone time. For what was a wedding without a thorough and passionate consummation.

An hour later found the newly married-Francis insisted on calling them that- couple lounged on the forest floor surrounded by cushions and a blanket while their clothes dried on a nearby boulder. Francis had just returned from the carriage with a picnic basket filled with all of Mary’s favourite fruits and cravings. She was only covered by her own cloak which was probably why her husband couldn’t stop staring unabashedly.

“Do you think the kids are missing us?”

She asked her husband when the feeling of her child kicking up a storm reminded her that they should probably return.

“Uncle Bash is on kids’ duty and they all love him so I don’t think they have had much time to miss us.”

Francis answered while popping a cherry in his mouth like a child.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Yes Mother.”

His cheek was rewarded by a playful smack to his arm.

“Have you started arranging for our departure?”

Francis scooted closer to his wife and unclasped the cloak she was wearing. His fingers traced patterns on her soft skin while he watched her flush from under his lashes.

“We are alone with no human or animal in sight and still you wish to talk about our duties? I have something much more stimulating in mind for us my darling wife.”

His fingers trailed down her swollen belly to her thighs when he touched her damp skin, his head pulled back in alarm when he noticed that fluid was beginning to pool underneath Mary.

“Um Mary? Either you have lost control of your bladder or your waters have broken.”

She pushed herself up to her knees to rebuke the comment but as it turns out, her husband was absolutely right.

“I don’t understand… I didn’t feel anything at all.”

Francis rose to his feet to help her stand so they may dress to return to their home. It seems their child could no longer wait to meet them. It was just like his children to prevent him from laying with his wife.

The cries of agony echoing through the royal wing made him want to rip out his hair in frustration. Francis was no stranger to the pains of the birthing bed; it was his second time experiencing the familiar helplessness but he swore it was nothing like before. He was pacing inside the parlour next to his bedchambers, the magenta and orange light from the large windows of the palace made it evident that it was sundown once again. The Queen had been in that room since yesterday evening, just moments before the sun had set; she had been rushed into the chambers by her husband and ladies after their trip outside the palace was cut short.

Since then, midwives and doctors went in and out of the royal chambers with no good news. Francis had been kicked out of the room by the head midwife again two hours ago because his anger at the people failing to help his wife was making things worse. The blood-stained sheets and greying skin were evidence enough that something was terribly wrong. He was simply motivating everyone to work harder, Mary was not an ordinary woman she was queen of two nations and he would rather die than let her fall to something as common as childbirth after all that they had endured together.

He nearly sagged in relief when the screaming halted and everything went quiet. He looked across the parlour in their wing where he waited with Bash and James; thankfully the little ones were being minded by the nannies. He had tried so hard to reassure his sons that their mother would be well soon and he was glad to know that it wasn’t a lie. The door opened to reveal Mary’s doctor and the palace midwife. Francis walked over to speak with them, there should be sounds of a babe’s cries, that is what happened with William but it was much too silent.

“Tell me it’s good news.”

The elderly man shook his head while the midwife avoided meeting his eyes.

“Your Grace… the queen passed out from the pain. The child refuses to come out.”

The Earl of Moray came up behind his brother-in-law.

“My sister has been in labour for twenty-four hours. Can you do nothing to help her?”

Francis took a step back so no one would see him falter. There was nothing but defeat in the expressions of the two people who were helping his wife. He reached for the cart to pour himself a generous glass of scotch, anything to dull the growing ache in his chest.

“There is one way to get the child out without waking her, the babe will die if we don’t get it out of her soon.”

The midwife scowled at the doctor, which made them think that she wasn’t on board with the doctor’s idea. But Francis was desperate and he was willing to try anything.

“There is a procedure I have come across during my travels; a man in Switzerland cut into his wife’s belly to remove the babe. She survived the surgery.”

“She may have but the queen has bled too much to heal from such an invasive surgery… she is too weak.”

The midwife argued, Francis ignored her and turned to the doctor.

“Have you performed such a surgery before? What are chances that the queen will survive it?”

“I have not yet performed this surgery myself but I understand the theory. The child will live if we make haste.”

James narrowed his eyes but it was Bash who faced the doctor.

“You have yet to answer what will happen to the queen.”

The doctor addressed his king.

“Your grace, your child’s life is on the line. If I do not perform the surgery, the babe will not make it.”

Francis assessed the situation and asked the midwife for her opinion; Mary trusted this woman because she helped Marie de Guise with her labours too. Her suggestion would be far more reliable.

“The Queen has exhausted herself and this entire pregnancy took her strength, this surgery is too risky. It will kill her and you cannot take that chance.”

“She will die anyways! What matters is that my surgery will save the child.”

The doctor had just lashed out when a crash sounded. He looked to the broken pieces of glass at his feet and fearfully met the eyes of his sovereign king.

“I will not be made to chose between the life of my wife, the Queen and my child. You will find a way to save them both Doctor Adamson or you will hang for your failure.”

The doctor shook his head as his body quaked in terror.

“I am a man of science and logic your majesty. You are asking for a miracle.”

A miracle! Francis’s eyes widened in revelation. He had initially been apprehensive about the miraculous powers of the plant but perhaps it was just what they needed. He turned to the midwife.

“Agatha… do you think the Winter Rose will help?”

“That is preposterous; a myth or a story.”

Adamson argued but was silenced when James led the man out of the parlour before Francis throttled him.

“It does have extraordinary healing properties but it might not work.”

“What if it does?”

Francis led Agatha to the bedchambers where his wife lay, Mary was fighting in there and he needed to help her in any way he knew how. He leafed through the contents of their cabinets to find the vial that contained the dried flower. He handed the vial to Agatha and walked over to Mary’s bedside. Kenna and Greer got up from their perch beside her to let him sit. Francis pushed back the damp hair that had stuck to her sweaty brow, he leaned forward to press a kiss to her temple.

“If this works then we owe our twins quite a big favour. You must not give up my love, you must keep fighting because you are stronger than you know. I believe in you.”

“You must not give up hope brother, our girl is strong, she’ll make it through this.”

Francis smiled weakly at Kenna’s words, grateful for the support.

Agatha returned to the bedside with a steaming cup in her hand. She had ground the dried bloom into a fine powder, petals and the nectar, and steeped it in hot water to make a tea-like concoction. She handed the cup to the Duchess who put the rim to the queen’s chapped lips and tipped the liquid slowly into her mouth, massaging her throat to ensure that she drank it. Francis held his wife’s limp body up so that the herbal mixture doesn’t end up in her lungs. Once she had finished the entire cup, they laid her back down, now all that was left to do was wait.

The next few minutes were one of great trepidation. Every occupant of the room waited with bated breath until finally, Mary opened her eyes with a gasp. She looked around to see her ladies and her husband at her side with relief painted on their features. However, the calm was short-lived because soon after; Mary clutched her belly as she doubled over in pain. Agatha’s helper rushed to the patient and huffed out in joy.

“She’s crowning… I can see the head!”

Francis felt a wave of relief wash over him at the knowledge that his plan worked. His wife held onto him while she pushed through the pain and put all her energy into delivering her babe. She screamed herself hoarse; her face sweaty and flush with exertion but she kept going because she knew that this was it.

And so, after an entire day and an hour of gruelling labour; Princess Anne Marie Stuart-Valois came into the world, screaming and kicking. When the little girl was cleaned up and returned to her parents, she was still fussing. Her face scrunched up in irritation and she fisted the blanked she was wrapped in.

“You have kept us waiting for much too long my angel.”

Francis cooed at the little raven-haired princess, she opened her eyes at the sound of his voice and he swore he could feel his heart grow bigger.

“Mary look at her eyes!”

He handed Anne to her mother so they could marvel at her brilliant blue eyes. They were not like his or his sons, Anne’s eyes were dark blue like sapphires, the exact shade as the winter roses that had saved them both. Perhaps it truly did take a miracle. Mary stroked her girl’s red cheeks with the back of her pinkie and choked back tears.

“I have waited so long for you my princess and you are more perfect that I could possibly imagine.”

The newborn puckered her lips and made a suckling motion but her mother did not see it. Mary felt her vision turn hazy and a ringing began in her ears, her body ached and shivered like it had been dumped into a tub of ice. Her grip went slack and it was a blessing that the baby was on her chest or she’d had fallen off. Francis’s attention snapped from his daughter to his wife, her skin looked nearly translucent in the candle-lights and her lips were blue. He took a crying Anne from her and handed her to Greer.

“Agatha! Something’s wrong.”

He ripped off the sheets covering her to see that she was actively bleeding from the tearing.

“I’m cold…”

Mary’s voice broke at the small words and she collapsed against the pillows.

“Do not close your eyes, Mary… Agatha!”

 The midwives rushed around the queen, pushing potions down her throat while the doctors tried to staunch the bleeding.

“She’s lost too much blood… she’s going into shock!”

Francis only had eyes for his wife as her life slipped away.

“Please don’t give up… don’t make me live without you.”

With the little strength she had left, she reached her hand up to his cheek, her ice-cold palm almost made him flinch.

“Take care of them… Scotland…it’s yours now.”

“I will never forgive you for this Mary… don’t you dare die on me.”

His grip on her cheeks tightened, like he could stop her from slipping away.

“I’m sorry… I… tried…”

A tear slipped past her pale cheek and her lashes fluttered as her eyes closed. Her body went limp in her husband’s arms and every person in the room lowered their eyes when Francis roared in agony; tears clouding his vision while his throat closed up in grief.

For even kings did not have the power to fight death.

Chapter Text

Chateau de Fontainebleau, France

 The Queen of Spain smiled to herself when her guards announced the arrival of her youngest brother. She signed off the letter she was penning to her husband-King Philip and folded the parchment to apply her wax seal. She had only just pressed her stamp in when Prince Henri sat in the seat across from her desk. The blonde young man appeared nervous at being summoned by his sister at such an early hour. He feared that he had made an error in his attempts to cement his position at French Court and his sister was displeased with him.

“You wished to speak to me?”

“I received intelligence from Scottish Court and wished to share it with you.”

Leeza reached for the rolled-up message with a smile that made him guess that the intelligence was of a secret sort.

“You have spies in Scotland?”

“I have spies in many countries across Europe. How else did I learn of the egregious error that was Charles’s regency?”

Leeza waved off his suspicions and instead opened the message to share the news.

“A week ago; on the fourth of August, the Queen gave birth to a princess.”

“We have a niece?”

A fond smile appeared on Henri’s lips at the mention of another of his brother’s children.

“Yes, but that is not what’s important.”

“Then what is?”

“The birth was too much for the Queen to recover from; our sister-in-law is dead Henri.”

Leeza delivered the blow like she was making small talk and Henri could barely believe it. Mary was always there for him whenever his mother was too busy chasing power, news of her death was a devastating loss. He couldn’t imagine what Francis and his nephews must be going through.

“And the King? What do your spies say about him?”

“Francis is inconsolable as is expected; he has yet to leave her bedside and is insisting that she can be saved.”

Henri observed his sister’s posture; she didn’t appear too grieved by the death of a dear friend. She seemed impatient, as if his inquiries were irrelevant. He straightened in his chair and leaned closer.

“Why exactly are you telling me this? What do you have to gain from Mary’s death?”

Elisabeth sighed before answering.

“Mary’s death leaves a power vacuum in Scotland; an instability that our brother will have no choice but to fix. He will be forced to stay in Scotland as its only monarch.”

“He will not be returning to France any time soon then. This is about replacing Charles as regent.”

“That is the thing little brother… this goes much farther than merely a regency. France deserves a King that can put her first, one that doesn’t have to protect his dead wife’s nation from downfall.”

It struck him then, why Leeza wanted to talk to him.

“You want to usurp our brother’s throne.”

Henri scoffed and rose to his feet in indignation, making Leeza follow him.

“Of course not! I am merely suggesting that we help him ease the burden.”

“Is that what this is?”

“Henri you must understand how crippling this loss is for Francis; he can’t even function much less rule two nations.”

The young prince glared at his sister with hands clenched into fists at his side.

“What you are suggesting is treason! You are asking me to steal my brother’s crown… to rid my nephew of his birthright.”

Leeza bit back the frustration that was just at the tip of her tongue and gently walked over to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I am thinking about what’s best for France and right now it is not our brother. I merely suggesting that we present the option to Francis, if he refuses then we obey our King but if he doesn’t…”

“What makes you so sure that he will agree to consider me for the throne… it seems you have forgotten that when it came to a choice, Francis chose Charles.”

Leeza smiled at his amenability, for a moment she was worried that Henri would refuse and she wouldn’t succeed in solidifying her influence in France. Philip is going to regret underestimating her when she handed France to him on a silver plate. It was gratifying to see that all the time and care she had invested in her brother these past two years come to fruition.

“You leave that to me little brother. Charles may be older but you have something he never will; the might of Spain by your side.”

Holyrood Palace, Scotland

The door was slightly ajar and the pungent scent of medicinal herbs wafted out into the corridor of the royal apartments. The Duchess of Blois clutched her palms against her chest to prepare herself for the sight that awaited her. Days had passed since the birth of Princess Anne and her father had yet to look at her. The newborn was in the nursery being tended to by nannies, wet nurses and her mother’s ladies; she had everything a babe could need, everything except her parents. It was time for lunch and this time it was Kenna’s turn to try and fail at coaxing the King to go anywhere other than his wife’s deathbed.

She crossed the threshold to step into the chambers but no matter how much she braced herself for the sight before her, it always felt like a punch to the gut. The Queen of Scotland and France looked nothing like the regal monarch she truly was. Laying on her soft goose-feather bed, surrounded by pure white silk pillows and sheets she appeared to be merely a sleeping beauty. Her raven hair was loose and formed a halo around her head, contrasting strikingly with her sickly pale skin and cracked lips. The maidservants had washed away every sign of the bloody and horrendous labour that she endured to bring her daughter into the world.

Kenna looked around the room to spot Francis but he seemed to be elsewhere. A crash from behind her proved otherwise; the man in question was entering the bedchambers with a vial of green liquid in his hands. Francis paid her no mind and made his way to his wife’s bedside. His once beautiful golden curls were haggard and matted to his head, his beard unkept and his clothing askew; making it clear that he had given no thought to himself in days. Kenna watched in morbid fascination as he coaxed the contents of the vial down his wife’s throat. She knew what it was; the same drug that the physicians had been giving her for days to keep her heart beating.

Kenna moved to stand beside him so she may capture his undivided attention. His head snapped to her and he glared at her through dull, blue and bloodshot eyes.

 “Her heart still beats.”

He sneered at her before Kenna even had the chance to open her mouth.

“Barely… Francis you cannot continue to do this to yourself.”

He scoffed at the pity in her eyes and averted his gaze.

“What would you have me do then? Give up on her like the rest of you have?”

“That is not fair!”

“I will not leave my wife to die!”

He stood up from his perch on the stool to discard the glass vial in his hands.

“She is already dying Francis. You cannot remain here tending to her as she wastes away. This is not what Mary wanted you to do.”

“Mary promised that she wouldn’t stop fighting for us and she did… so forgive me if I don’t give a damn about what Mary wanted me to do.”

The anguish and betrayal in his voice made Kenna’s eyes prick with fresh tears that she had to blink away. She and Bash had discussed how Francis was hurting, how he was angry at Mary and himself for what happened. She had a feeling that he was resentful of Anne as well because of what her birth did to his wife. However, it’s been a week and everyone was restless. France was at the brink of ruin and Scotland will follow soon after if the King did not get his act together. Kenna just hated that she had to be the one to dole out some much-needed tough love.

 “I cannot even begin to imagine the kind of pain you are enduring but it’s been days since Anne’s birth and it’s about time you stopped hiding away and faced everyone.”

Kenna braced herself for the fury that followed her words but she steeled herself against his ire.

“How dare you? To accuse me of hiding away when I am the only one who cares enough to bring Mary back.”

“Mary doesn’t need you to nurse her to health, she needs to perform your duty. You are not simply her husband… you have a responsibility… as King; to your people and your nations.”

“Do you think I am of any use to France or Scotland without Mary?”

“And what about your children? They have already lost their mother… do you plan on leaving them without their father too?”

Kenna could see that her words struck a nerve because Francis’s defensive posture softened into something more wounded. He stumbled onto the divan at the foot of the bed and sat with his head in his hands, when he finally looked up to meet her eyes his face looked haunted.

“I know you’re trying to help Kenna… but I just… I can’t do this… I don’t know how to live without her.”

“I wish it wasn’t so… but you know better than anyone that nobility doesn’t have the luxury of drowning in our grief.”

Francis shook his head and wiped away the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand.

“Please Kenna… just leave.”

A large and stubborn part of her wanted to drag him out with her but seeing him looking so dejected made her hesitate. Perhaps it would be better for her to leave him to think upon her words in solitude. She just hoped that something she said would be able to get through to him because they desperately needed Francis to get his head in the game or he would lose a lot more than just his Queen.

The constant wailing of the infant in her arms had her at the brink of tears. Greer was at her wit’s end and she was no stranger to the challenges of a newborn. How naïve she was to assume that getting through her Rose’s infant year would make her qualified to look after the week-old princess in the absence of her parents. Anne had a healthy pair of lungs and she was constantly showing them off, the only time the baby quietened was when she cried herself to sleep. Of course, Greer knew exactly what was bothering the little girl, she missed her parents. Greer prayed for her friend’s health every second of the day but more than that, she prayed that Francis would find the strength to move on and be the parent and leader that they needed him to be. Because she wasn’t sure how long they could keep up appearances before the court; here or in France realised that their king was a widower.

“Please little one… you must give yourself a break… all this crying is not good for you.”

Greer’s begging was laced with her dismay and she nearly sagged to her knees in relief when the doors to the nursery opened to reveal Kenna and Freya. The toddler skipped to her cousin and to Greer’s surprise, the baby took a break from her endless crying to watch the silly faces that Freya was making. Anne’s blue eyes were widened in wonder, still glistening with tears and she pried her fist free to gnaw at her knuckles.

Kenna took Anne in her arms and placed her in her bassinet so that Freya could easily play with her. Greer took advantage of the peace and quiet as she made her way to the large floor cushions so she could lay down. Kenna slipped off her shoes to make it easier to join her friend.

“Your miserable face makes me assume that Francis was just as receptive as he was yesterday.”

Kenna groaned at Greer’s remark.

“He’s stubborn; I don’t know what you all expected. If Bash and James couldn’t talk him out of his haze, I had no chance.”

“I miss Lola… she always gets through to him somehow.”

“It’s because Francis still feels guilty about ruining her reputation and our dear Lola has learned to milk it.”

There was a lull in conversation; for a few moments, the only sounds were the coos of the newborn princess and Kenna’s daughter telling stories in her sweet voice. A choked sob broke through the silence, making Kenna snap her head to see Greer holding back tears. Her eyes were rimmed red and her cheeks were puffy, Kenna wasted no time before pulling Greer into an embrace, her blonde hair tickling her collarbone as Greer rested her head against her friend’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to lose her. We’ve spent most of our lives being Mary’s ladies… how can we possibly move on from that?”

 Greer sniffed and wiped away her damp face to smile sadly at Kenna.

“Moving on won’t be easy and we don’t need to rush our grief. Mary was a pivotal part of all our lives, she is the one who brought us together as a family.”

“Maybe Francis is right to hold onto hope; Mary has survived so many life-threatening obstacles, is it wrong to have faith that she will fight her way back to us?”

Kenna nodded at Greer’s words, she held her hands and squeezed them reassuringly.

“There’s no reason to hope for the best but we do not have the luxury of standing vigil at her bedside. Bash has been handling correspondence in France and from what he tells me, Charles has made a complete mess of things and neither Catherine nor Narcisse are doing much to control him.”

Greer scooted away from Kenna to check on the two girls, who were thankfully both fast asleep. Kenna smiled to herself before she rose to her feet and picked up her toddler. The way Freya was leaning against the bassinet made her back curve awkwardly which would certainly be painful if she let the girl sleep like this.

“I’ll put her down before talking to Bash and James about the next steps.”

The Earl of Moray had spent the entire day at Court, Edinburgh Castle was abuzz with restless nobility who needed to believe that the King and Queen were simply enjoying a recreational leave from duties instead of the true happenings of Holyroodhouse. James had taken the three princes with him to ease the stress of handling all the royal children; while William was easier to distract, Edward and James were far too perceptive to be fooled by meagre excuses offered to them by the adults.

When Kenna finally returned to her husband’s current home in the King’s study, he had his head in his hands while he sat on the large oak desk. There was a letter opened in front of him next to a half empty bottle of whisky.  She crossed the room to seat herself on the edge of the desk, her hand twitched as she resisted the urge to free his tousled hair from his grip.

“What is wrong?”

He handed the parchment to her instead of answering, she skimmed the contents of the letter and every word she read made her blood boil.

“Is Leeza out of her mind?”

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with her but this is crossing the line.”

Bash reached for the bottle of the amber drink and took a sip before passing it into her outstretched hand.

“Does Francis know?”

It was a good question considering the letter was addressed to the King and was quite convincing.

“I was on my way to tell him… I guess I needed to pick up the courage to go up there. I haven’t seen her since before Anne was born… I can’t bear to see her like that.”

This time Kenna didn’t hesitate before reaching for his hand, forcing him to meet her eyes. Her heart stuck in her throat at the depth of emotion in his piercing gaze. His mouth opened and closed as he worked up the courage to bare his soul to the woman who hurt him more than anyone ever had. He rose to his feet, towering over her and held both her hands in his.

“Everything that has happened in the past few days have made me realise how fragile life is… how the future is so uncertain that we shouldn’t take anything for granted.”

He was being vulnerable in a way that Kenna had thought she would never see again. That he would never trust with that kind of openness after what she did to him.

“Bash what are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that I was wrong to keep pushing you away, to continue to punish you even now when I can see that you are making amends.”

Kenna let go of his hands to gently touch his face.

“I made a terrible mistake in betraying you… you trusted me and was willing to give me… give us a second chance and I basically stabbed you in the back. I will never stop trying to make it up to you and I will never forgive myself for ruining our family.”

Bash shook his head in response to her heartfelt vow, her lips wobbled as she was overcome with emotions and he couldn’t stand to see her in pain any longer. His hand cupped her cheek to caress her skin with the calloused pad of his thumb.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you Kenna. You do not need to bend over backwards to earn my forgiveness because you already have it.”

The air in her lungs left her breathless with the surprise that came with his confession.

“I do?”

Bash’s green eyes crinkled.

“I forgive you Kenna… I didn’t even realise it but I had forgiven you a long time ago and I was just too stubborn to admit it.”

“But what I did… I made you lose so much time with Freya.”

“It’s all in the past now. We have more than enough time to make up for the moments I missed with our daughter.”

 Kenna searched his face for any sign of insincerity but to her relief, she found nothing but honest earnestness.

“You truly mean that. What changed your mind?”

“Seeing Mary on her deathbed and how it’s destroying my brother made me realise how important it is to hold on to the people we love. We live dangerous lives Kenna and I just keep thinking that should anything happen to you; it would kill me.”

“These tragedies do have a way of making us reevaluate our priorities.”

Bash moved closer to his wife, closing any distance between their bodies, her lips a hair’s breadth away from his.

“I do not want to have any more regrets. I cannot go another day without letting you know how important you are to me.”

“Oh Sebastian… you don’t need to make me feel better.”

He shook his head at the apprehension in her hazel eyes and it pained him to know that he was the reason for her fears.

“Kenna, I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. Even when I hated you, I couldn’t help but love you just as much.”

Not wanting to waste another second, Kenna pulled at the lapels of his leather coat to close the space between them and captured his lips in a hungry kiss. Bash sighed into her mouth and even though they had enjoyed each other’s company for quite some time this kiss was different. It was not tainted with mistrust or resentment; it was gentler and more hopeful. When Bash pulled away, he saw that Kenna’s eyes were sparkling with joy while her cheeks were tinted pink.

“Does this mean we are truly together now?”

“I know that we may need some time to put together the pieces of our marriage but I believe that we can move forward if we are willing to try.”

“Well, I will try if you will. And this time we will do better; we will listen and talk instead of arguing.”

Sebastian smiled at the radiance of his wife as she looked at him in adoration. That’s when he knew that he made the right decision, whatever the future held in store for them he would fight to keep his family. And now he was sure that Kenna will fight with him. If only his brother could get the same happiness, for the sake of himself, their family and the nations that he swore to protect.

Francis winced at the line of blood that appeared on his jaw and reached for the washcloth in front of him to clear away the sign of his careless beard trimming; there was a reason his valet usually did that for him. Ever since Kenna left him to ponder over her harsh words, he couldn’t help but wonder how disappointed his wife would be if she saw the state of him. He looked nothing like the man she fell in love with and it shamed him enough to draw himself a bath, groom his haggard face and put on an acceptable change of clothes. Perhaps it would be wise to join the rest of his family for dinner and check on his children.

He walked out from the bathing chamber and reached for his doublet, pulling the fine garment over his tunic he made his way to his sleeping wife. He leaned down to press his lips to her clammy forehead; her skin was warmer and less ice cold but that could’ve been his wishful thinking. He gently brushed away the strands of hair that escaped the braid that he had tied it in to keep the hair away from her face.

“You have to keep fighting, my warrior queen.”

Francis sat at her bedside; he picked up her hand to bring it to his mouth so he could gently kiss her knuckles.

“I am ashamed to admit that in the days since your long nap, I have utterly and completely failed you.”

He sniffed and let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“I clung so desperately to your side that I neglected everything that you asked me to look after. I’ve been a poor king and an even worse father. It took Kenna of all people to talk some sense into me, you would be so proud of her. She reminded me of you; brave and unyielding.”

Francis wiped at his burning eyes with the back of his hand and when he looked at his wife’s face, he swore he saw her cheeks gain colour.

“I promise you that I will strive to do better; to be the man you want me to be… but my love; you have to promise me something too. Come back to me Mary; don’t make me live in this world without because I don’t know what your loss will turn me into. I am not as strong as you.”

There was a sharp rap on the wooden doors to their chambers, making Francis quickly straighten his posture and furiously wipe away his tears. He opened the door to reveal his brother, his sister-in-law and his daughter in the arms of Lady Greer. The infant was fussing in her aunt’s arms, brows knitted together and a scowl on her little face. Lady Greer looked to be troubled herself so without any prompting, Francis picked up little Anne and to his delight, she quietened down the instant that she was in her father’s arms. He hummed a French lullaby to calm her further, Anne opened her enchanting blue eyes and her lips parted to make a cooing sound that melted every fractured edge of Francis’s heart.

“You must be so cross with Papa… aren’t you my sweet princess?”

Bash cleared his throat to catch his brother’s attention; all three of them were looking at the King and his newborn daughter with fond smiles, relieved that he had picked up the courage to escape his grief.

“Brother, there is something pressing that needs your immediate attention.”

Kenna could tell that Bash was reluctant to pull away Francis from his daughter but as always; duty came first. Francis pulled his gaze away from his beautiful daughter but the soft smile that had appeared on his lips faltered when he noticed the grave expression in his brother’s eye. Francis pressed a gentle kiss to his daughter’s head and reluctantly placed her in Kenna’s outstretched arms.

“Very well, we can talk in the parlour.”

Then he turned to his wife’s ladies.

“Would you mind staying here? I do not want to leave Mary unattended and perhaps Anne would enjoy being in her mama’s company.”

With a nod of gratitude, Francis led his brother across the corridor to the parlour. He watched in trepidation as his brother sagged in the seat across from him and he could tell that Bash was unsure of how to unburden himself.

“Whatever you have to say Sebastian, spit it out. I assure you; I can handle it.”

When Francis read through the letter that his brother handed to him, it turned out that he couldn’t handle it after all. Disbelief, anger, disappointment and betrayal flashed across his face one after another. He tossed the offending piece of parchment away and resisted the urge to break something; preferably his sister’s neck. He rose to his feet, his features set in determination.

“Prepare the flagship… we set sail for France as soon as possible.”

“Are you serious?”

Bash was gobsmacked at the King’s sudden change of tune. Just this morning he had all but kicked Kenna our of the room for reminding him of his duty and now he was prepared to leave everything in Scotland to go after their sister.

“Our siblings are squabbling over the French throne as if either of them has any claim to it. It is my throne, my crown and my son’s birthright. I would die before I let anyone take that away from me or James.”

“While I am glad that you are finally taking initiative… don’t you think that your plan is too hasty?”

Francis paused his pacing to face his brother’s concern.

“I believe my action is long overdue; I have left my throne in the hands of my mother and my siblings for far too long. To think that they have become bold enough to manipulate me into abdicating… it’s preposterous!”

It was also treasonous but neither Francis nor Sebastian was comfortable voicing that particular thought. It was complicated going against your own family and it was even more difficult when that family needed to be punished. They both knew that if they didn’t this situation delicately; there would be an uprising on their hands.

“What about Scotland? Who will take care of everything here? Who will watch over Mary?”

“Kenna and Greer will remain behind with their Queen. As far as Scotland is concerned; Mary and I had already discussed the matter of regency with James. The Earl of Moray will once again rule in our stead.”

“Kenna will not be able to stay… my wife and daughter will travel with us to France.”

Francis was taken aback by the conviction with which his older brother refused him. There was a possessive glint in his eye that the king hadn’t seen in ages.

“I simply assumed that the two of you would welcome the distance… I apologize if that’s not what you want.”

“Things have changed between Kenna and I. We have confessed our feelings and we agree that our marriage deserves a second chance.”

Bash was nervous because he didn’t want his reconciliation to hurt his little brother. He was finally happy in his marriage but the situation with Mary was hurting Francis; he didn’t want his brother to feel like he was rubbing his happiness in his face.

“That’s fantastic news Bash!”

“It is?”

“Brother; I am thrilled for you. Truly I am; you deserve this happiness.”

Francis strode to embrace his brother; it was nice to see that not everyone was as miserable as he was. It gave him hope to know that even if his world was dark, his brother could find his light.

“Lady Greer can watch Mary by herself then. Now I think we should call a Privy Council meeting to announce the changes to Scotland.”

“All of that will have to wait.”

Francis and Bash turned to see Lady Greer at the threshold of the parlour. Her chest was heaving and her entire body was vibrating with anticipation. Her eyes sparkled and with a bright grin she uttered the words that King Francis had been praying to hear for days. The three little words that changed everything.

“Mary is awake!”

Francis didn’t know how he crossed the distance that separated the parlour from his wife’s bedside but his heart leapt in his chest when he crossed the threshold to his bedchambers. He could feel as if he was floating when his eyes fell on his wife. Queen Mary was not simply awake; she was leaning against the pillows stacked by the headrest, her infant daughter in her arms. Kenna was putting away a cup of broth that a maid had brought in for the queen. Mary was so engrossed in memorising every feature of her daughter that she almost missed her husband nearly falling to his knees at the sight of her.

“Mary…”

Her name escaped Francis’s lips in a choked sob. Not wanting to intrude on the King and Queen, everyone silently vacated the room. Mary looked up to beam at him; while her skin had regained some colour, it was clear that she had a long way to go before she returned to complete health. She held out her arm and her husband sagged into her embrace, making sure to keep most of his weight of her frail body, he pressed his face into the crook of her neck to inhale her familiar scent.

“I hear you worried yourself sick over me.”

Her voice was still weak and he had to strain his ears to hear it.

“I take it one of your ladies told on me.”

“Kenna.”

Francis smiled fondly at the mention of his sister-in-law.

“Of course it was her. Did you know she and Bash have rekindled their relationship?”

Mary’s eyes brightened at the news.

“That’s wonderful!”

For the next few minutes, Francis shared everything she missed during her long sleep. It was only when Mary asked after their sons that Francis broke down in tears.

“I know you asked me to look after our children but I was so lost in my grief that I couldn’t see past it.”

“Oh Francis!”

“I am so sorry for failing you.”

Mary reached for his face, cupping his cheek in her palm, she pulled him in to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

“You didn’t fail me, my love. You could never… I was once in the same position as you and I know how agonising it can be. The thought of losing you… it’s my darkest fear.”

“I felt like I was drowning.”

Mary’s heart ached at the devastation on her husband’s face, especially knowing that in some way she was the cause of his pain.