May 5th, 1560

Chateau de Blois, France

"Just one more push, Your Majesty!"

With one final bit of strength, Mary pushed and leaned back on her pillows. The screams of a child that had just been forced from the place he or she had called home for the past nine months were a comforting sound to Mary, who already miscarried of a child and had been struggling to find herself pregnant again.

Struggling to find her voice, she inquired, "Is it a son?"

Before either Lola or Kenna could answer, Francis pushed his way into her rooms and pulled her into an embrace.

"Mary," he breathed. "thank God you are alright."

Kenna smiled and brought the small child over to Mary. "A healthy daughter, Your Majesty."

Mary stared at the baby in shock. "A daughter?"

Francis sensed Mary's discontent and gave her a reassuring smile. "A beautiful daughter, Mary. She will be just like her mother."

Mary shook her head. "A daughter does you nor France any good. We need a son."

Francis took their daughter in his arms. "We are young yet. Who is to say we won't have five sons after this beautiful baby girl?"

Mary sighed and gave him a pained look. "I suppose. What shall we call her? "

Francis laughed before kissing her cheek. "We shall call her Marie!"

"No, that won't do. There are too many with the name Mary." She shook her head and looked down at the little girl that was now sleeping in her father's arms.

"What then? Something Scottish? " Francis looked bemused.

Mary smiled and shook her head. "Anne, Princess Anne of France and Scotland."

Francis smiled at the girl. "Anne, do you like that name my princess?"

Anne made a small cooing sound and Mary giggled. "I believe she does."

Francis could still see the sadness in Mary's eyes and nodded to her ladies to dismiss them.

"Mary what is it?"

Mary looked at him tearfully. "I wanted so badly to give you a son! You have just fought off that terrible illness and I wanted you to have an heir but all I could give was a daughter. "

Francis inched closer to Mary and placed Anne into her arms. "Look at our daughter. I do not care about an heir at this moment. I beat my illness and we will have time to have plenty of children."

Mary shook her head. "After I lost the baby it took nearly two years for me to get pregnant again. What if I never get pregnant?"

"Then my brother will succeed me. I have three younger brothers, one of them is bound to have issue eventually. As long as I have you and our little Anne I will be complete. You have to trust me, I am no Henry VIII."

"I do trust you, but I have failed France, I failed Scotland, and I failed you. I must have a son."

Francis nodded. "We will, God willing. Can we please celebrate the arrival of our daughter?"

Mary nodded and looked down at the bundle in her arms. "She has blonde hair, like you."

Francis chuckled as he leaned in closer to them. "She has your features. Your nose, your lips, just perfect in every way."

"Well I hear it is a daughter."

Francis sighed as his mother approached them, her critical gaze focused on Mary.

"Yes, mother. The Princess Anne of France and Scotland, she is perfect."

Catherine frowned. "Perfect except she is the heir for only one crown. We need a male heir. Her lady provided you with a son on the first try, if only he were legitimate."

Mary glared at Catherine for bringing up the painful thought of Lola's young son Charles de Valois, the illegitimate son of her husband.

"Mother..." Francis warned.

Mary sighed. "Francis, she is right. No matter what, Anne cannot be Queen of France."

May 19th, 1560

Richmond Palace, England

Isabella was reading a letter from the French king welcoming a healthy princess, Anne de Valois. Edward was laying beside her, staring absently at the ceiling.

"Queen Mary has been delivered of a girl." she murmured.

Edward nodded his head. "Well at least we know she is not barren. Perhaps she dies in childbirth and we will not have to suffer through Scotland and France being unified."

Isabella sighed. Edward had been sullen since the Scottish queen of France had announced her pregnancy, the fear of a Franco-Scottish union was becoming very real. He was already at work fortifying the borders and had moved court further away from Scotland.

"Edward, that was a horrible thing to say. In any case, if Mary dies, France gets Scotland anyway. England is better off with her alive."

Edward shook his head. "I say we get her daughter married to our son, Arthur is only three years older."

Isabella eyed him curiously. "Is that wise for England?"

"I believe so. The King of France is quite sickly from what I've heard, they say he has already had a brush with death." Edward shrugged.

Isabella sighed. "They say those that brush with death when they're young live longer."

Edward watched his wife for a moment before getting out the bed and making his way towards the door.

Gone again.

She didn't know what happened to her marriage in the recent months. Edward went from one extreme to the next in a matter of moments and he became short with her whenever they discussed politics. He normally decided on the terms of the treaty and she suggested which if their children would marry the royal in question. They currently had a treaty with Navarre, the Dover Treaty, and Jane's hand had been promised to the Prince of Viana to seal the deal. Isabella was especially determined to make an alliance with Portugal using their younger daughter Anne and the idea had not gone over well with the king because Portugal was still Papist. She looked around at her ladies, who were pretending that they had not heard the exchange between Isabella and Edward, except Ruth, who was shaking her head again.

Isabella raised her hand. "Ladies, you are dismissed."

Mariana and Charlotte curtsied before leaving the chamber, leaving only Ruth.

"The Crown Princess of Scotland and a princess of France and Edward thinks that she'll marry English? Wishful thinking on his part if you ask me." Ruth shook her head.

Isabella shrugged. "It may be possible, but not before they have a son. They need to be absolutely sure that there will not be a union between Scotland and England. They do not wish to be apart of this realm."

Ruth's eyes suddenly lit up. "Edward is plotting something and he wants you to get your hands dirty with him."

"Ruth," Isabella shook her head. "Edward is a cautious man. What could he possibly be planning."

Ruth smirked. "It doesn't matter because he will never succeed."