Author's Note: I would like to take a moment to thank you for the positive feedback & support. It honestly means so much, and I never thought I'd get this type of response from my little attempt at fanfic. I feel so privileged to be able to share my writing & my modified version of episode 2x18 with you all. Most importantly, I hope you enjoy it! Again, thank you. You're all very kind.

Cover Credit: A special thanks to the amazing & talented demedicigirl for creating the gorgeous cover!

Disclaimer: I do not, nor am I claiming to own Reign or its characters. All ownership belongs to its respective & rightful owners.

Wind whispered across my exposed skin, sending tremors of chill coursing throughout my body and deep into my bones. My eyes traced over the horizon: over the waves of the ocean in the distance, the trees skirting the castle grounds, and the stones that made up the structure of the balcony on which I stood. Nighttime had never failed to enchant me; even as a child, I would run outside as soon as darkness descended to watch as the moon slowly rose into the sky. I would marvel as it cast an ethereal glow over everything, painting the earth in various shades of alabaster, as if its light was crafted from millions of fragments of stars and from the smallest shards of Heaven itself.

I inhaled slowly and I remembered. I remembered coming to this very spot with Francis many times as children; I remembered how his blue eyes shone in the moonlight and how it gently traced the outline of his golden curls, giving him a halo. The memories I had made here with him as children were my fondest, my most cherished…but they were also the ones that caused me the most heartache. Our lives as husband and wife had once been bathed in light and passion, but were quickly plunged into blackness.

Kings and Queens are not awarded the privilege of leading an easy life, and mine and Francis's was no exception. I had had this naïve dream of sharing the most fervent love this life could offer with the boy I had adored since the tender age of five, but I should have known that as long as we were rulers, we would never truly be free to love in that way. We could never be "just a girl and just a boy" as long as others conspired against us, coveted our life of luxury, and sought to remove the crowns we wore upon our heads.

I should have known that one day this world would tear us down.

My thoughts quickly turned from the beloved memories I had made here at French court as a child to ones more sinister. The horrors I had endured taunted me from the innermost recesses of my mind, and I flinched as the images of my attack flashed behind my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to erase every trace of it, to allow my memories from that night to be as blank as a piece of parchment. I craved escape with every fiber of my being, but I had yet to find it. I again thought of Francis, and I grappled to remind myself of our happiest moments—to think of the love we once shared—but all I could remember was the pain. The boy with the halo of gold and eyes the color of waves crashing against the shore was soon replaced with the memories of agony, desperation, and utter hopelessness.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and began to mentally erect the wall I had built around myself months ago, trying to replace my anguish with a façade of indifference. It was safer to appear cold and apathetic than it was to allow others to see the hurt that tore me apart inside.

It was when I was making my way back toward the door that led into the castle that I heard their voices:

"The physician said it is very unlikely that he will survive."

"But he is so young!"

My feet involuntarily led me the rest of the way and brought me to the hallway just off the balcony. Two servants slowly wandered along side by side in the dim candlelight, their voices echoing off the stone walls.

"I know, and it is so sudden. I would never have believed it myself had I not been in his chambers at the time the physician performed his examination."

The other servant shook her head solemnly. "May God bless the King."

My heart froze in my chest. Were they speaking of Francis? I emerged from the shadows and approached them.

"What did you say about the King?"

The young women came to an abrupt stop and looked at me in shock. They swiftly glanced at each other before bowing their heads. Neither seemed to know what to say or do, and several moments passed before one of them spoke. "Y—Your Highness—,"

I repeated, "What did you say about the King?"

The woman exchanged another nervous glance with her companion before beginning to stammer around her words, "Please accept our apologies, Your Grace. We should not gossip—,"

Before I could compose myself, my voice bounced off the walls, "Never mind your gossiping! I overheard you mention the King in your conversation and I want to know what you were saying about him, now."

I instantly regretted raising my voice to them as I watched them slightly recoil, but there was no time for apologies or idle discussion. If Francis was in danger, I needed to know.

"Please," I softened my voice, "if the King is in danger—,"

Their heads snapped up in unison, and one of them whispered in disbelief, "You don't know!"

My mouth went dry and my racing heart picked up rate. "What don't I know?"

She frowned and looked at her friend for guidance, but was offered none. "The King collapsed earlier this evening. The physician said—Your Majesty, the physician said that it doesn't look good."

I clenched my hands together and tried to calm my breathing. "But he was fine this morning… are you certain you are not mistaken?"

The women fidgeted with their clothing and refused to meet my eyes. "I was there, Your Grace. I am not mistaken."

Smoothing a hand over my gown and composing my features, I took two deep breaths of air.

"Speak to no one of what you know about the King."

They nodded.

"Return to your posts."

With a bow of their heads and murmured apology, they quickly shuffled down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

I brought a hand to my mouth and closed my eyes against the onslaught of unshed tears. This could not be happening. It was all a nightmare, it had to be. He's always been so healthy; how could he become so ill so suddenly? The servants had to be mistaken, surely. Perhaps they heard incorrectly or…

Picking up my skirts, I ran down the hall as fast as my legs could carry me. The scenario played out in my mind: I would shove open the doors to his chambers and find him sleeping peacefully. I would feel the relief wash over me as I listened to his steady breathing and watched the light from the fireplace flicker across his features, emphasizing the immense serenity that came over him as he slept. I would let out the breath I had been holding because I would know that he was well… because I would know that he would live to see tomorrow.

And yet, as I came to a stop in front of his chamber doors, I knew. I could feel it in the air, in my heart, and I could see it on the guards' faces when they saw me.

The servants were not mistaken.