Hey everyone. So this is my first Reign story and is also the first time I have written for this site in around 6 years. Because of this I am still trying to get back into the swing of not only writing but formatting on the site. If there are any errors, I do apologize.
I would really appreciate any reviews that you guys can give. Good or bad.
Disclaimer: I do not own Reign or any of the characters featured in this story.
Without further ado...enjoy.
This story will contain voice-over style narrations in italics that provide an introduction to each chapter as well as information not present in the chapter itself. The formatting may be a little confusing in this chapter but will get easier to understand.
Falling in love with your best friend, what a cliché. It happens in all the romance movies and teen dramas. Boy and girl are best friends for years before one realizes they love the other which sets off a series of events that cause pain, drama and in most cases, end in a declaration of love and a kiss over the ocean or at prom or at a wedding—something just as cheesy.
Despite how cliché it is, it's understandable. A best friend is there for it all. The ups, the downs. They see you at your best and at your worst. I can see how it's so easy to fall into that trap.
After all, I did it.
I fell madly, head-over-heels in love with my best friend, and it's hard to pinpoint the exact moment that happened.
Looking back, it was always him.
I was always meant to choose him.
Francis and I met when we were just 5 years old.
My father was the head of a company that he founded in his childhood bedroom at the age of 16. My dad, he was the stereotypical hard worker. A high school drop-out, he worked the overnight shift at 24 hour drive-thru and worked on his internet start-up during the day. The internet was just starting to be a thing when he was 16 and he saw it as a marketable instance. By the time he was 18 his shipping company was worth 5 million dollars.
By the time he met my mother he was worth more than he could have ever imagined growing up in lower-class Scotland.
Henry Valois joined the company when I was 5. Henry was always a large imposing man. His booming voice and intense stare won him any room he entered, yet the love he had for his family overcame the fear he struck within me.
The Valois name allowed Henry to rise in the ranks and within 6 months he was named vice president and his family was forever thrust upon mine.
"But mama, I don't want to go to another party. I'm sick of going to parties. They're so boring." My mother rolled her eyes and tossed the dress in her hand to the bed. Pink ruffles and white taffeta puffed up on my duvet and a pair of shiny black shoes soon landed beside it.
"Mary, for the last time you are going. This is an important party for your father."
"But its all grown-ups talking. I wanna play with my toys here. Daddy won't mind."
It was true. Even at 5 years old I knew what I meant to my father. As his only child, he would bend at my every whim. It took one bat of the eye and he would give in.
"Mary, this is not negotiable." Her French accent became more obvious, as it always done when she was angry and she walked out the door allowing Genevieve, my nanny to enter.
"Come on Missy. Time to get dressed."
I rolled my eyes and huffed, crossing my arms.
"Missy, there will be some new members of your father's company there tonight. I heard that one of them has a son your age."
Silence.
"Missy…."
That was it. That one word broke me. No matter how stubborn I was, Genevieve's simple tone and even simpler nickname snapped my barrier and I gave in.
"Fine. But not that dress!"
Half an hour later I found me walking at Genevieve's side down the stairs of our home to the party.
My mother and father were the first people to see me. My father's face transforming into a large smile, eyes beaming. My mother frowned and her eyes took in the dress I had picked out in place of hers. It was a simple purple slip dress that had a matching head band wrapped around my head.
I jumped to the bottom stair as my father lifted me into his arms.
"There she is. The entire party was waiting for you my darling." He rubbed his hand across my belly and I giggled into his neck.
"Daddy put me down!"
"What? Why would I do that? You are my princess and all princesses deserve to be carried on royal thrones."
I pulled my head from his neck and looked at him, eyes still beaming. "Daddy you're so silly."
He laughed a laugh deep from his belly and set me back on the ground. "Marie, she look's beautiful tonight does she not?"
My mother stepped toward me and patted down my hair, now sticking up at ends from being buried in my father's neck.
"Yes, however Ginny where is the dress I chose for her?"
Genevieve stepped forward and reached for my hand, "When we put it on, I found a rather large hole in the back, we were forced to select this in its place."
Mother nodded and went to the bar in the corner of the room.
Genevieve and I shared a secretive smile as my father reached for my hand. "Come now Mary, there is someone I would like you to meet."
"Daddy I hate meeting your friends. They're all old and boring."
He laughed at my scrunched up face and continued to lead me to the center of the room. "Oh but this someone a little bit younger than me. I think he may even be 5 years old!"
"But that's my age!"
"Well, that is your age isn't it?"
I so focused on beaming up at him that I hadn't realized we stopped moving.
"Mary, I would like to introduce you to Henry and Catherine Valois. Henry just started working for me." I smiled up at the adults looking down at me. Henry was so tall and Catherine so cold. They were both smiling but there was no warmth behind the smiles.
"And these are they're children Sebastian and Francis."
I smiled at the boys and I heard Catherine mutter something about Bash being Henry's only. I heard the words but didn't take them in as I stared at the boy in front of me.
Bright blue eyes, beaming smile and a head of blonde curls.
Francis.
He smiled brightly at me and waved so I waved back.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Cough, cough.
My eyes left the pool of blue and took in the deep emeralds next to them.
"I'm Bash." He said.
"Hi, I'm Mary. How old are you?"
"I'm 8."
"Well I'm 5."
"Me too!"
My father chuckled above me.
"Mary, why don't the three of you go up to the playroom. I'll have Ginny bring you all up something to eat and drink."
"Okay!" I reached forward and latched onto Francis' hand and led him and Bash up the stairs past my bedroom, into the playroom.
"I have all kinds of toys. Blocks, puzzles, dolls—but I'm sure you guys won't want to play with those—trucks, coloring books, regular books—"
"I can play with anything you want to. Bash will probably read." I turned to the corner where Bash was sitting in a chair and saw Francis was right. Bash had pulled one of the books off the shelf and was quietly reading.
"We can play marbles." I offered.
"Okay!"
I attempted to teach Francis marbles as he laughed and flopped his way through the game. Every once in a while Bash would peer over at us, now on a new book, and chuckle at the pair of us.
Genevieve brought up food and drinks and Francis and I shared cookies and chocolate milk as he flung my marbles throughout the entire room.
"I'm sorry, I lost all of the marbles."
"It's okay. I have more in my room. Come with me."
I grabbed his hand once more and pulled him back down the hall to my room.
"Wow! This is your room?"
"Mmmhmm."
"Mine is almost this big. But mine is blue."
"My mom wanted it to be pink. I like purple, but she's my mom so I have to do what she says." I shrug and pull out a new bag of marbles from my dresser.
I turn to see Francis perched on my bed, pillow in hand. "Hey, do you ever pillow fight?"
I shook my head. "What's that?"
"It's easy. See?" The pillow in his hand moved forward and smacked the side of my head.
His eyes were wide in fear as I didn't respond.
"I'm sorry. That's part of the game. Did I hurt you? I'm really sorry." His eyes began to water.
I slowly took a step forward and yanked the pillow from his hand.
Before giving it a second thought I smacked the pillow against his head, a beaming smile on my face.
He smiled back, the tears gone and reached for anther pillow. I climbed on the bed beside him and began an assault. Laughter and shrieking filled the room as Francis and I hit eachother with the pillows that my mother so meticulously picked out.
Somewhere along the way both of the pillows ripped and feathers began falling through the air. Francis was the first to notice and picked up a pile of feathers that gathered and dropped them on my head.
"You're not like other girls!" He laughed, cheeks rosey.
"What do you mean?"
"You're fun!"
"You are too!"
As more feathers rained down I heard several sets of footsteps approach the room.
Francis must have heard it at the same time as his eyes got wide with panic.
"Marie Antionette Stuart! What have you done?" Mother's French accent was back.
"I—we were just-." "It was my fault—." Francis and I stated at the same time.
"Oh, Francis! What is wrong with you?" Catherine's voice cut in.
"James, I am so sorry. He gets like this sometimes, so uncontrollable."
"Everyone calm down. They are just pillows. Did you two have fun?" My father chuckled.
We silently nodded.
"Well Francis, it's time for you to head home. Why don't you help Mary clean up the playroom and come down stairs."
Francis nodded and took my hand as we brushed past all of the frazzled adults and went back down the hallway.
"I like you Mary."
"I like you too."
"Can we be friends."
"Only the best."
So there it is. Chapter 1.
As I said before I am still trying to get back into the swing of writing and am fairly busy right now so please bare with me when it comes to updates. I am hoping to update once every 2 weeks, more so if I have free time. The other chapters will also all be longer than this one.
Reviews would be much appreciated.