Disclaimer: I don't own the show Reign nor any of it characters. Both those belong rightfully to CW and I am merely borrowing them.
After getting out of the carriage, after reuniting with her friends, after calming herself down once more and knowing it won't work for long - after doing all of it, Mary looks around at the faces in the crowd and at the beautiful gardens surrounding the castle. She remembers the walks they took, the way grass felt under her feet, how it tickled and how she enjoyed the bare-foot walks; yet she can't help but compare it to Scotland. She thinks of her dear nuns, of the children she played with not so long ago and of the soft, long grass in which you could just lay for hours, like on a flowery bed. Sometimes she would even hide from everyone, during the afternoons, and sleep, and dream. Here, at the castle, the grass has to be cut regularly and maintained in the impeccable shape. No one would let it grow long and soft.
Her friends observe the crowd while Mary is lost in her thoughts, trying to find themselves in this new environment. Suddenly, Kenna takes a step forward, trying to spot Francis. After a moment she takes Mary's hand and turns her around, excitement visible in her eyes. She's pointing at a man in the crowd. "Is this Francis? He's gorgeous!" she says enthusiastically as she observes a person approaching the King. Innocent at first, these six words bear the unspeakable power over Mary. Her throat clutches. Francis, her childhood friend, her confidant, her fiance, her future King. Hers.
She looks up and takes in the view in front of her. A tall boy - no, not a boy anymore - a tall man stands next to the King and a woman that is not Catherine. He has brown hair and blue eyes (such an intense shade) and wears a thoughtful smile. It's ridiculous how she sees it right away. His hands are relaxed at his sides, and he studies her too, just for one moment, as if he's not interested in her at all. He turns back, talking to the King, and stays there, waiting for something to happen. He's not nervous, Mary thinks, unlike me. I have so many reasons to be uneasy. But she looks at him once again - because what else can she do? How did Kenna call him - gorgeous, was it? Yes, that's definetely a fitting word. But there is also something imperceptible about him, a mystery and charm that calls to her. Something not quite obvious, not quite visible, that starts to fascinate her. Puzzles always do. It all happens in a second - all those thoughts come through her mind like a hurricane and then it dawns on her - and then she knows what it is.
"This isn't Francis. I know it isn't." Mary says. Her friend looked different when he was young; he could not grow to be this man.
And in this moment all the people in the crowd turn as Catherine comes and stands before King Henry. Everyone's attention is drawn to one place - one moving figure - one person. Her ladies turn, including Kenna who's still holding onto Mary's hand, and so does she, until her eyes find Francis. She can feel the familiar bond between them, the easy companionship and she lights up, seeing the only person in here she may know a little. She feels the corners of her lips going up in answer to his small smile, and isn't all that nervous at once. After all, he still must be partly that boy she ran with as a child. He comes nearer and before she gives him her utter attention, she lets one last thought distract her.
Before she let go of Mary's hand at the sight of Francis, Kenna whispered "Well, then he must be Bash, the King's bastard."
Bash. Sebastian. She'll remember, but he isn't hers.