Her chambers were glowing by the light of a dozen candles. The smell of blood still clung to her after she bandaged Catherine's wrists. What a day this was. First the arrival of her mother, a mother she hadn't seen for about four years and the threat she posed on her plan. The threat she posed on Francis' life. Her decision to elope with Bash… the significance of that decision….
Francis' arrival. She didn't have time until now to truly process that. The sharp pain she felt when she saw him walk down the hall …. with Lola. Why was he with Lola? The question that appeared randomly on her mind all day. She heard Lola's explanation and yet felt an uneasiness that she couldn't understand. What had happened between them? What had they discussed in the château in which they encountered one another? Had he asked about her? Had Lola comforted him?
Oh for the love of all that was holy!
She had to make a decision that changed her life forever and she focused on trivial jealousies. So what if Francis and Lola had talked and confided in one another? They were both unattached, free to get close to whoever they wanted. She had spent the last few months engaged to another man, confided in him, relied on him, kissed him… All in the desperate attempt to save Francis' life from the prophec-
The prophecy was gone. There was no threat on Francis' life. Catherine had put her own veins' content as a guarantee. The sole reason that started this whole ordeal had evaporated, setting her free. But was she really free? These past few months had changed many things. Her feelings for Bash mainly. They had grown. She realized she loved him. Loved his bravery, his protectiveness, his loyalty. There was a certainty with Bash, one she didn't always feel with Francis. He always put her above anything and everything. He was a simple man and he had led a simple life. For him Mary came first, above France, above his family, above himself. He loved her fiercely, with an intensity that Mary didn't quite match, but was grateful for. She had gotten used to relying on him .
Francis was much more complex. He had been her intended for as long as she could remember. And they were so many sides to him. The child that huffed and puffed at the formal dances and stuttered when nervous. And that loved nothing more than to make her chase him along the castle halls and never quite reach him due to his annoyingly long legs. The boy that had stolen her first kiss and that had saved her from two murderers. The boy she had given herself to and that had twirled her in the air with the promise of a future together. And then the ruler. Torn between his duty and his love for her. Always trying to do the right thing regardless of his feelings. A prince first, a man second. Terribly intelligent and calculative, responsible and mature. The prince had broken her heart more than once. The prince was weary of her impulsiveness. The prince had forced her to keep her distance from him. He thought of France above all else, even her.
She was the Queen of Scotland. This alliance was beneficial for her country only on the discretion of the next King. If she married Sebastian, there would be no question of his willingness to help her. He would do anything for her. Even if it wasn't in the best interest of France. He didn't think like a ruler, he thought like a man in love. She could take advantage of that and spare her country much political ordeals. If she married Sebastian, the Queen of France would be more powerful than the King.
And if she married Francis…
The door suddenly opened and Greer came in. Her words were lost on Mary in a sea of confusion. She asked if Mary had made a decision. And she had nothing to say to her lady. Never had she felt more lost.
Their exchange was interrupted when the Queen entered her chambers. Greer left discreetly.
"What an eventful day." the Queen begun.
She had recovered from their previous exchange. Her wrists were bandaged and her posture straight. As if the fact the mere hours ago she almost killed herself, was a small detail that served it's purpose and belonged in the past. The Queen of France was anything but sentimental.
As much as she hated to admit it, Catherine De Medici had unintentionally taught Mary a great deal about being a ruler. The ugly parts, the manipulating and frightening parts, the ones not mentioned in the books and not explained by nuns and tutors. The parts you need to learn to survive. And as the older Queen had said once, she was surely a survivor.
Catherine was holding a piece of paper that made Mary's mind start boiling again. She was barely paying attention, the weight and meaning of these news suffocating. Catherine extended the paper to her. The seal of The Vatican was unbroken.
"If this letter confirms Sebastian's legitimization, it should take away any reservations you have about a bastard at your side instead of a King, as Bash will be King one day. If it denies his legitimization, how could Bash blame you for returning to Francis?"
Mary looked at the expression on the other woman's face and realized just how much of an insight Catherine had to her thoughts. Just as she was reaching with a shaky hand to receive the letter, the Queen spoke again.
"I know you think you love them both. While that may be true.. I argue that you love one more." and with that , she handed it to her.
The letter felt so light in her hands, and yet it's significance heavier than anything else in her short life. The weight felt crushing.
"I'm afraid." The words rushed out of her and they both absorbed the meaning of them at the same time. Mary looked at her and saw the same steady and deep understanding reflected in the other Queen's eyes. For despite their differences and their past, at that moment they both wanted the letter to contain only one thing.
"Open it."
She realized she had already made her choice. In the graveyard. She didn't marry Bash only due to the new possibility of a future with Francis. Instead, she returned to the castle desperate for a confirmation and weary of one at the same time. She had truly loved only one man and as much as thinking of Bash filled her with guilt, guilt was not enough to stop her from praying for a chance to be with Francis again.
As she processed this, her hands had already broken the seal and opened the letter to find… nothing.
Mary raised her eyes, completely bewildered, to meet Catherine's knowing gaze.
"Now you are free. To go to the man you love."
