It had been almost a month. A month since the world came crashing down around her. A month since her soul had been torn from her body. A month since she'd lost her Francis. Her first born son. Her life. It had taken her more than half that time just to leave the darkness of her rooms. She thought if she just stayed there, never opening the curtains to the light of day, perhaps she could avoid the pain of seeing his empty chambers, his empty throne, his empty widow. Seeing Mary in such grief, though she wished to comfort her, only served to make matters worse. For so long she had resented this girl for holding her sons affections to such a degree, that she had almost forgotten how much she once cared for her. Now that Francis was gone, she thought she would hate her for being the cause of his death, but she can't. All she can see is that girl she loved, loves still, hurting as deeply as she.
The sight of it all still lurks in her every waking thought. Her Francis, lying on the cold forest floor, surrounded by white petals. She had once loved the beauty of white fallen petals. She had insisted on every grand occasion to have them. Now, she never wanted to see another white petal again. She had even rudely scolded the the florist at his funeral to take away all of the flowers. She couldn't bare the sight of them. She couldn't even look at them then, in that moment. A part of her wanted to grab onto Francis the way that Mary had, and never let go. She knew that's what she would do if she allowed herself to kiss her son's hand one last time, so she didn't. She went to Mary's side, holding her close, giving them both something to ground them, to keep them both from dying of the heartbreak that would follow. She didn't want to admit it, but she had needed Mary in that moment as much as she had needed her.
Mary had sacrificed so much for Francis's memory, to grant him his last wish. His last wish to have her be regent. He'd forgiven her. Begged his true love to protect her as he lay dying. The thought of this broke her heart even more. He had deserved a better mother than her. She was determined to do everything in her power to be better now. To do what Francis would do and save Mary at all costs. To let her love protect this girl the way she'd always protected her own. But wasn't Mary one of her own? She'd raised her. She'd taught her. She'd loved her. She still does. She'd just forgotten somehow. Now, all the reasons she hated her are the thing forgotten. Why did she push her away so hard? It didn't help. It didn't save Francis. It only hurt him. She had done so much wrong to her, so much wrong for no reason at all, and she could never take it back. All she could do now was try to do better. To try and salvage what she could of their relationship before she is gone forever. She could only pray that Mary will leave her knowing that she was sorry, that in the depths of her soul, all she ever really wanted was for her and Francis to be happy.
She wasn't quite shure why he cared, but it had been Bash that alerted Mary to her condition. Led her to see that her grief had gotten the better of her. It was he that had let the light in, but also, it had been him that had let the darkness in. She had asked him to speak to her, god only knows why? She couldn't hear a word over her heart screaming that it couldn't be. He didn't need to speak a word, she could see the agony in his eyes. He couldn't say it anyway. 'Catherine, it's Francis...' she could hear his cracking voice in her dreams at night. Then the slight nod of his head in confirmation. She was glad it was him that had delivered the news and not some random guard. His tear stained face was oddly soothing, when the alternative was a cold cry of 'The king is dead' from someone whose name she didn't even know. It made her feel less alone. Though she really is very alone. No one to comfort her as she had for Mary.
She couldn't think about that now though. Mary had given her a perverbial kick in the pants. She had to keep her focus through the pain, to keep her other children safe. So she'd decided to throw herself into revenge to stop from falling into the pit of despair again.
Narcisse. That snake. That black-hearted scum of the earth. Why had she ever looked at him as anything else? Because he made her afraid, made her think she needed him. He had used the same ploy to get Lola. He'd blackmailed her son, started a religious war, lied to her, betrayed her, toyed with her heart...a heart that contrary to popular belief was actually quit fragile underneath the mask of concrete she showed to the world. He'd known that though. He'd found her weakness...but now she'd found his, and she would use it to destroy him. He'd taken away months of time with Francis and made much of his last days with her, miserable ones, all because he had betrayed her and revealed her plan to Mary. How dare he. She was the one that gave Francis a reason to trust him in the first place and he'd burned her with it. She gave her heart to him and all she'd asked in return was for him to stay away from Lola. Was that so much to ask? Now she's not good enough for him either...he'd asked her to 'finish the job', he'd tried to humiliate her, degrade her to get his vote... he wants his cake and to eat it too, well it's time the cake gets it's own just deserts.
She would do to him what he did to her. She'd get him to fall for her, all the while, gaining the information she needed to tear him down. Then, the moment she is secured as regent, she'll blow his world into tiny little peices. Yes. That's what she'll do. And she'll start by letting him see she didn't need him. That she could get a younger lover just as he had. Someone who could gain nothing from being with her, someone to want her, not her power...and she knew just who that person would be...
She'd been sitting in the music room, trying to do as Mary had suggested and practice her virginals, when she heard it. She'd looked to see where the sound was coming from, and then she saw him...he was on top of some servant girl, true, but somehow that didn't matter, he was so...wait...he'd been looking at her. He'd stopped right in the middle of the act to stare at her. And what a stare it was. It sent a chill down her spine. It actually took a moment for her to break free of his trance in order to scold them for breaking the rules. He was young and handome and he seemed interested enough. Yes, he'd do nicely. No reason not to have some fun while she got her revenge.
So she'd gone to him, asking him to bring her back to life. Did that sound desperate? Maybe it was a little. She didn't care. Not now. Now she just needed to lose herself...except she was already lost. So perhaps she was finding herself, but who would she be when she did? Would she recognize the woman she discovered?