Chapter 1: Regent

Bash was summoned to the King's council room as Henry was finishing the final arrangements for his trip to Rome. At Bash's arrival, the king dismissed the others from the room so he could speak to his son alone.

"Things are going to change for you now, Bash," Henry said, somewhat unnecessarily in Bash's opinion. Of course things were going to change – had already changed, in fact. "I don't have time to teach you the things that you should know, the things Francis has spent a lifetime learning. I will just have to hope you've picked up on a few things from being around your brother and watching me."

"I will do my best, father," Bash said.

"It's not enough to do your best," Henry said. "If you are going to be the heir to the throne of France you will have to leave aside everything you have been. You will have to leave aside your wild ways and your impertinent attitude and your freedom. Are you really prepared for that?"

"I understand what is required of me."

"I'm not sure you do," Henry said bluntly. "A crown is a heavy thing to wear. But you will know soon enough. I am making you Regent while I am gone. Francis has left the court, which is the best thing for all involved, I should think. But no one is to know the real reason why. In his absence it will not seem so far-fetched for me to leave all in the hands of my favored son – who should be unquestionably loyal to me."

Henry's last statement was quite pointed, and Bash did not fail to miss the message. Bash was still Henry's bastard son for now, dependent on the favor of the king for his continued existence. If anything, Mary's plan to place Bash on the throne had temporarily made Bash even more at the mercy of the king. Without the king's support, Bash would be a treasonous usurper – never mind that none of it had been of his own design.

In such a situation, it served Bash's own interest as well as Henry's to keep quiet about the king's decision regarding Mary's proposal. Bash acknowledged this, saying, "Rumors are already swirling around court that you are planning to change the succession. I take it you do not want those rumors confirmed yet."

"Definitely not. The nobility can speculate all they like – Mary announced her plan in front of the whole court so I can hardly prevent them from gossiping. But until they know what will happen, they will not act. You brother will be said to be traveling ahead of me to Italy, where I will be meeting with my wife's relatives. In our absence, you will be Regent."

"And when Francis shows up in some other corner of France without you, what will be said?"

"That he was sent back and took a detour, deciding to take advantage of the opportunity for a little freedom. Very irresponsible of him, really. It will not help Francis's reputation as heir, though it may serve him well as the bastard son if all of this comes to pass," Henry replied. "Francis knows this already, and has agreed to play along." Henry looked sideways at Bash. "Your brother has been far more cooperative in this plan than I expected. It makes me question if part of him was secretly glad to be rid of the crown."

"As you say, a crown is a heavy thing to wear," Bash replied. "Perhaps Francis is simply glad of the chance to live without it weighing him down for once."

"I do not believe it is as simple as that. Nothing about this situation is simple. I do not understand Francis' motivations anymore than I understand yours or Mary's in this whole scheme," Henry said sharply. "But it doesn't seem to matter, as Mary has pulled the puppet strings and now we must dance, if France is to have Scotland and England."

There didn't seem to be any safe answer to that. So Bash simply said, "I hope your travels are safe father."

"And I hope you prove up to the task of Regent, Sebastian, contrary to all expectations of the nobility."

"And what are your expectations, father?" Bash challenged the king in response to his father's blunt assessment.

"That you will make many missteps. But I can only hope that with Mary at your side it will not be a disaster. Perhaps trial by fire will prove to be the method that makes the bastard become a king."

Bash immediately thought of the pagans burning on the castle lawn for heresy & treason, and his own pagan ties. King Henry had used an exceedingly poor choice of words. But perhaps King Henry had known exactly what he was saying. "I do not mean to fail father. I will do what is necessary."

"Good," Henry said. "Return to the throne room in one hour. I will make the announcement of your regency then. There will be much to be done, after that, so enjoy the last moments of your freedom until then, Bash." These last words of the king carried a tinge of sadness. Henry did love his son, and the king knew in his heart that Bash had never wanted this crown. It had made it easy for Henry to love this bastard son, because there was no question that the king's favor would give Bash exalted expectations such as those of Tomas of Portugal. Bash had been content with his lot in life. The twist of fate that brought them to this point baffled Henry. God most certainly was laughing at him.

After leaving his audience with the king, Bash wandered aimlessly, unconsciously directing his feet toward a balcony where he could gaze longingly at the countryside. The rolling hills and sprawling fields represented the freedom he was losing, and as Bash stared at them, he tried to come to terms with the sudden change of his fate.

In his mind's eye Bash compared the images of the far flung corners of France he had seen, the bars and brawls and fights and drinking and good times & uncertain life, with a certain lovely brunette who had taken up residence in his heart. And Bash thought of his little brother, the fair-haired golden son, Francis, who was both idealistic and arrogant, entitled and sheltered, but whom Bash loved all the same. A big brother was supposed to look out for his little brother, was supposed to choose his brother over all else.

And yet . . . how far did that loyalty go? Should Bash have sacrificed his own life for Francis's, refused to marry the queen of Bash's heart, forcing his father to put Bash on the chopping block, all so that Francis could continue to take for granted the love of an amazing woman like Mary? Would Francis really be able to protect Mary? Would Bash?

It was pointless to wonder, Bash decided. He had not asked for this crown, had not sought Mary's hand. Bash had stayed away from her when Francis commanded it, had accepted that she would never be his, and that he should admire her from afar. Bash had resented it but he had done it, because he was loyal to his brother and his future king. And, if truth be told, he had also done it because being away from Mary made it just a little easier for Bash to pretend he didn't care for her. But for all that, fate had thrown Mary in Bash's path, had stepped in to virtually force Bash to claim Mary for his own. There was no point in pursuing what if's. The choice between Mary or the executioner was an easy one.

Bash was pulled away from his thoughts by the sound of Mary's soft steps approaching. Yet he did not turn to look, choosing instead to bring some order to his thoughts in those last moments before she reached him.

"So pensive," Mary said, seeming to invite him to share his thoughts.

There was something about this Queen of the Scots that made Bash want to bare his soul, to make her know him, understand him, as no other. But Mary was not ready for the full truth, and so Bash was careful with his reply, circumspect in what he said. But he couldn't contain it all, couldn't stop from hinting at his feelings. A light entered his eyes and a slight tone of awe entered his voice as he spoke of Mary becoming his wife.

Bash did not miss the slight twinge on Mary's face when Bash spoke of their wedding. Francis was still in her heart – Bash did not delude himself on that point. So the bastard son turned heir chose not to speak of his own feelings on the matter, simply saying quietly, "You're going to be my wife. How very unexpected." Then Bash gave her a small smile, and looked away, so as not to demand an answer by holding her gaze. But before he turned, he saw the small smile on her face in return and understood it for what it was: a mark of Mary's appreciation that Bash did not demand a response from her, did not demand that she lie to him and tell him what he knew not to be true, or force her to admit the truth aloud, causing pain to them both.

They looked on in companionable silence, until it was time to return to the throne room for Bash's appointment as Regent. Bash offered Mary his arm, and they walked together to meet the eyes of the court, united in their unspoken commitment to this new path.