We fall against each other, sweaty and exhausted. Francis rolls onto his back; breathing heavy and I reach for the sheet to cover up myself, still a little bashful at being completely naked in broad light. The many candles in the room make it seem as if it was still day. Francis notices my discomfort, and stands up to retrieve my nightgown, where it lays discarded in the middle of his room.

I'm very aware that he's still naked and my eyes trail over his body before he looks back at me and catches me in the act. He grabs my nightgown, and tries to hide a chuckle behind a cough as he walks back to me. I can feel my cheeks flame up. I'm a lot more comfortable with his naked body and being bare myself than I was a mere week ago, the first time we made love. But I'm still a little embarrassed at such intimacy.

Francis holds my nightgown out to me and when I go grab it, his other hand captures my face and he pulls me in a lingering kiss, while I kneel on the bed. He smiles as he pulls away, his hand trailing down my body, his thumb brushing my breast. I gasp out, and he smiles in such a smug way I'd like to wipe it off his face. I roll my eyes as I take my dress out of his hands, and he turns around to put on some breeches himself. I sit on the edge of his bed and start to pull the nightgown over my head.

"You know you could wait a little to do that." Francis says from the other side of the room. I shake my head, he is ridiculous. I can almost feel him pouting.

"Then you'd never let me go back to my rooms." I tell him as I finish dressing, making myself decent much to his dismay.

"True." He smiles, walking over to me and pulling me up. His hand grabs my chin and he kisses me slowly, I reciprocate, savoring his lips. His tongue slips into my mouth and the taste of him invades me again, and it doesn't matter that I'm exhausted and we were joined together mere minutes ago, it's almost like we can't get enough.

"Let me find you something to drink before you have to go back." He tells me. "I could get us some wine-"

"Just water." I tell him, and he nods, pulling away from me with a quick kiss. He leaves to fetch us the drink and I sit down on the bed, my legs are still a little unsteady I'll admit. After a little while my breath starts going back to normal, and with my mind clear from the haze of pleasure it was in only minutes before, I can't help it when my concerns come back in full force. Catherine's words earlier today hang in my head as I wait for Francis to return. Nostradamus' prophecies sends chills down my back, that I would be the cause of Francis' death…that one of my ladies would die…I shake my head to try and rid it of such dark thoughts. It's madness. But it still gnaws at me, that my wedding tomorrow night could bring…

I'm shaken out of my thoughts by Francis' hand on my cheek. My glass of water forgotten in his nightstand, I didn't even realize when he returned.

"Hey, what has you so deep in thought?" His thumb caresses my cheek softly as I look up at him. His blue eyes are clear like a pale summer sky as they search mine.

"Nothing. It's nothing." I try to smile, but he doesn't seem convinced by my attempts. The truth is I can't shake the bad feeling I have; words about death looming over me like a dark cloud, making me furrow my brow and bite my lip. Francis knows me and my tells better than anyone, he must figure something is amiss.

"Mary, are you sure you're all right?" His brow furrows. "I didn't hurt you earlier, did I?"

"No, of course not." I tell him, smiling truthfully this time, easing his worries. "It's nothing." I don't want him thinking it's his fault I'm so quiet, but I won't burden him with nonsensical prophecies, even though I can't shake the dreadful feeling they have left in me. They seem like a perpetual bad taste in the back of my mouth, and being honest only Francis' arms around me seem to help calm me down and forget about it.

"But I think I'll stay with you tonight." I tell him and his eyes brighten immediately.

"Of course." He says, but he also sounds slightly confused. We've always been very careful to have me back at my rooms before anyone notices my absence and my reputation is tarnished. Except for last night's slip up, when we fell asleep together out of sheer exhaustion and woke up in each other's arms this morning, I've always gone back to my rooms and slept alone, much to our chagrin. "But are you sure? The servants may gossip, even more after this morning."

"Then let them gossip. I don't care." I tell him, I think it adorable how he pretends to be so worried over gossip, when this morning he rested it importance himself to keep me in his bed. It wouldn't be so terribly bad if I was found I assume, we are getting married tomorrow night. I just want to speed up my sleeping in his arms for a day. Although part of me can accept I want to spend the night here because Catherine's and Nostradamus' words have shaken me, and I want Francis as close as possible.

"Besides, we are to be married tomorrow, are we not?" I say, but it surprises me when there's almost no joy in my voice. Francis' face lets me know he notices it.

"Mary, is there something wrong? He asks me, his hand on my cheek, making me look at him. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No." I lie, covering his hand with my own. I don't want him to worry over nothing, I reason, but Catherine's words resonate in my head. No. Nostradamus' words are just that, words. And he may have more insight than a normal person but only God knows what will happen. "Everything's all right." I faintly smile and although he doesn't seem completely convinced, he lets me be. He kisses my forehead and nudges me towards his pillows, where I settle as he goes about blowing out the candles in the room until we are submerged in darkness.

He returns to my side, his arms sneaking around my waist and bringing me close, and I hide in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, loving the way we don't need blankets to keep warmth, our intertwined bodies being enough; or how his hands run up and down my back, occasionally twirling the ends of my hair in his fingers. The movement lulls me into sleep and before I know it I am gone, worries left far behind me when I'm in his embrace.

-.-

Blood, there's blood everywhere.

"Nothing I can do"

Blue eyes open, unseeing

No, please

"He's gone, Mary, I'm sorry"

"No!" I sit up in bed, gasping for breath. It takes me a second to distinguish between dream and reality, to know where I am. I begin to calm down once I realize I'm in Francis' room, and he's beside, his breath slow and even. He is all right. I'm surprised to find my cheeks wet with tears and I hasten to wipe them off in case my rustling awakes him. It was just a nightmare, just an awful nightmare.

I look outside and the sun hasn't come up yet, but I don't think I could back to sleep. I settle back into the pillows, turning on my side towards Francis. I can't help my hand from sinking in his curls or my thumb from running over his cheek, over his closed eyelids, with the pale lashes casting shadows over his cheekbones. It's almost as if I need to make sure he's real and he is truly here. My heart begins to beat normally again, and I calm down, but I'm still not able to reconcile sleep.

I rest my head against his chest, my ear over the steady, sure beat of his heart, and I let the few hours until dawn pass like this. Trying to think of anything but the prophecy and my nightmare, and hoping neither of them will become reality.

Francis starts to shift once the sun is up in the sky, and he turns to look at me, noticing my eyes open and alert already.

"How long have you been awake?" His sleepy voice asks me, his hand going to rest over my waist, his thumb tracing circles in my stomach.

"Not very long." I tell him, equally as quiet, but I can tell he doesn't believe me.

"What happened? Couldn't you sleep?" He turns to look at me better, and I hope my face doesn't give away anything.

"It's all right." I tell him, and then and idea comes to me, since I'm very unwilling to go back to my rooms just yet. Propriety is not a very big priority right now. "Should we break our fast together in bed? I mean...since I am already here…" I tell him smiling, pretending to be nothing but practical and knowing he can't refuse. He seems a bit surprised by my forwardness, but it seems to awaken him rather fast.

"I'll call for it." He tells me, pressing a chaste kiss upon my lips before getting up "Let me get dressed."

He stands up, and I already miss his warmth besides me. The sudden sense of loss it's ridiculous, I know that, but it brings back everything I was told yesterday and my nightmare earlier today. I watch as Francis puts on a shirt, admiring the planes of his back and I can only think I want this to always be part of my life. This intimacy we've shared in the past weeks. We've been husband and wife in everything but the official ceremony. We are so blessed to have fallen in love. I am so lucky to have his love as well as his support, and we will rule together one day and we will love each other and our children. The thought feels me with happiness but it almost seems too perfect, like a fairytale made of clouds that may disappear at any moment, and it only brings back Catherine's and Nostradamus' words. Tonight Francis and I are getting married but I'm now filled with uncertainty the prophecy has planted on my mind. I'm scared, I admit, of what may happen. Yet Francis is the only thing I can be sure of.

"I want you to know, whatever happens, that I love you."