Sinking
It had never been him.
This whole time, she had still been in love with Francis. It had never been him.
Louis knew that now - Mary had proven it beyond a shadow of a doubt. He was chained to the wall of the icy dungeon, wounded and alone, and his former lover was up in the warmth of the castle with her husband.
He had been a fool to think that she truly loved him, that it had not just been the horrors she had endured that drove her to him.
Yes, he was a fool. A lovesick one, at that.
And he loved her.
She had warned him, though, hadn't she? Time and time again she had cautioned him, had kept him at arms' length, had tried to harden his heart against her. He had fallen into a deadly trap that she had tried so valiantly to push him away from.
He should have run from it - gone far from court - weeks ago, rather than trying to marry Elizabeth, rather than running back to see Mary again. He had known, but he had so desperately wanted to see her, to be with her, to believe that there was still hope for them.
I'm so sorry! Mary had sobbed out. I thought that our love would - would -
Would be enough? No, you didn't, he'd said. You warned me, and warned me. And you are queen.
You gave me back my life. Now let me save yours.
Why hadn't he just gone when he could? He was hated here. Francis hated him, believed that he had murdered his son. Mary didn't want him anymore - she said she had loved him, but she wouldn't save him.
There was no way out of this. Thrown into the dungeon to wait until he lost his head to the axe.
You put a knife in me and I still want you, is that madness?
Yes, it was. He knew that now. This whole plan of theirs had been madness, utter foolishness. To try and take the king's wife, to run to Scotland with her - it had been stupid and impossible from the very beginning. Now he would suffer the consequences.
And yet for Mary, he would do it all again.
