"It's just some thunder, Mary." The young Dauphin said, but it did nothing to calm the frightened semblance of his friend. She'd been at the castle for only a short time, and after the initial wariness with which he welcomed the Scottish girl, he accepted that maybe she wasn't so bad. She did prefer to explore with him rather than learn to sew with his sister.
"It's your turn." He told her, signaling to the chess board between them. Both of their nurses were fast asleep in couches near them, and they sat on the floor, trying to finish a game. Or at least he was trying to; she kept getting distracted by the thunder that resonated every few minutes.
"Doesn't it scare you?" Mary asked him, once more ignoring the game, and he rolled his eyes at her inability to finish her move. He was so sure he'd win. He dragged his attention from the board and looked at her. Her chin jutted out defiantly, perhaps at the idea of being the only one to feel fear of the storm roaring outside.
"No." He answered, his eyebrows raised, his attitude smug. "Not at all." But then a loud thunder seemed to shake the castle to its core, and the two children jumped, their eyes going wide. The chess pieces were knocked over as he stretched his hand to grab hers.
.
She walks in as he's taking off his boots, reading himself for bed. His gaze follows her as she closes the door behind herself.
"I've dismissed my maids." She tells him, letting him know that no one will come to bother them for the rest of the night. He nods, standing up and opening his arms so she can step into his embrace. He grips her tightly, her arms doing the same. It's the first time either of them can breathe in deeply in what feels like far too long. The day hast taken its toll on both of them.
"How is Kenna?" he asks her. He saw her leave after his brother and her friend while he walked his mother back to her rooms. He knows that's where she has been for the past few hours while he spoke with Nostradamus and inquired more about his father's doings.
"She fell asleep crying…Greer stayed with her." She steps out of his embrace, a sigh passing her lips, and turns around. She gathers her hair to one side as Francis' fingers deftly remove her necklace and then drop the jewelry on her hand. "How is your mother?" she asks.
"She is in her rooms once again, Nostradamus by her side." His fingers begin to make quick work of Mary's corset. "He says she only needs to sleep now, until the effects of the poison pass."
Mary nods at this information, still shocked at Catherine falling into her arms that afternoon. At the wedding that transpired mere hours ago and that she can find no sense to, except from a cruel heart. Francis' arms sneak around her waist then, as he notices her thoughtful expression, and he holds her to him, pressing a comforting kiss into her hair. She smiles faintly despite herself.
.
"I thought you said you weren't scared." They hid underneath a blanket Francis draped between two couches. After the thunder they'd ran to another room, far away from their sleeping nurses, in search for somewhere to hide. Mary had dragged some cushions underneath the sheet and they sat there, while a candle lit up the small space.
"Shut up." He told her, he was reconsidering his choice of making her his friend. She was annoying.
"Then admit it." She pushed, trying to get the truth out of him. But she would lose that game because he could be as stubborn as her.
"I will never admit that. Future Kings don't get scared." He raised his head, looking down at her even as he sat in front of her, trying to appear taller, more certain than he really was.
"Well I'm a queen and I'm scared." She told him quietly, honestly, and he really wanted to confide in her then. After all, she was his friend, and she'd never made fun of him before. Except for his name, but he bugged her about her missing tooth so he guessed they were even.
But then he thought of what his father had told him, time and time again. That he must never show weakness; and surely admitting to her that he indeed was scared would be weak. It was an important lesson, his father had said, to never show weakness, that a King could not allow it or his enemies would get the upper hand. Yet Mary wasn't his enemy. But still, he bit his tongue.
.
"I just can't believe he would do that…to Kenna and Bash, and to your mother…" She shakes her head as she goes to sit on the bed, her nightgown not feeling warm enough for reasons that have nothing to do with the chilly air slipping in through the windows.
"You should have heard what he asked of me earlier today …" She mumbles, as a shiver runs through her at the memory of his inappropriate petitions.
"Mary, what did he tell you?" He asks carefully, waiting to pull a shirt over his head, the white linen scrunched in his hands. There's a look in his eyes that tell her that he would leave and face his father regardless of the consequences if he thought she was hurt in any way. "Did he try-"
"It's not important now. It's nothing compared to what he just did." She tells him truthfully, her chest still aching at Kenna's tears, and Bash's words. She wouldn't wish anyone, much less people she cares about such a marriage, under such conditions. "The look in his eyes….it scared me. Francis, he's unstable."
"I know." He grabs her hand, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't scare me as well."
.
Thunder shook the castle yet again. Only their heads and arms were visible as they hid under the fort. Francis made shapes with his hand in front of a candle, the shadows reflecting on the walls for Mary to guess what they were.
"It sounds like the sky is falling down." She told him, after giving up on recognizing his dragon.
"The sky can't fall down Mary." It was obvious that something so ancient would never move. Before she came, he spent many storms alone, playing by himself as her sister stayed in her rooms and Bash went to play with the older children of the servants, and nothing worse than boredom had ever happened.
"What makes you so sure?" She asked him, probably only to fight him on something, but he took the bait. She was right in something at least, it did seem like it could fall when the sounds of all consuming thunder reverberate through the stone walls. It sounded like a hungry beast rapping on the castle doors.
"It just can't." He told her, but she still seemed uncertain, and so he said what he could think of to try and reassure her. "And even if it did, I wouldn't let it hurt you."
.
"What are we going to do?" She asks him, as he walks around her chambers, blowing candles off.
"I suppose we could talk to Nostradamus in the morning, although I suspect my mother has already tried that. Talking to him, convincing him to see a physician…that might prove useful, if I can find a way to manipulate him-"
"I'll go with you." She volunteers immediately.
"You said it yourself, Mary, he's unstable. I don't want him near you." He's firm in this, remembering the crazed look on his father's eyes as he swung his sword in front of Bash or as he paced the throne room, barefoot despite the cold, marrying off two very unwilling people. He won't expose Mary to that more than it's unavoidable as they live under the same roof.
"I won't let you go alone." She tells him, her face setting in a stubborn expression he knows all too well. "Besides, he wants England, I'm the one that can deliver it to him. He'll listen to me."
"No, I won't risk it." He tells her, afterwards softening his stance because he doesn't like feeling like he's ordering her around, but he is far too worried for her safety. "I just don't want you to get hurt." He adds.
.
It was the Queen that found the children. After their nurses were strongly reprehended for letting them escape their sight, all the rooms near were searched until the Dauphin and the Queen of Scots were found. It did not take very long, and it was Catherine that raised the sheet, uncovering the small fort her son and the girl had built. A burn out candle lies between them, and their hands are inches apart on the carpeted floor. She smiled before waking them up, now that the storm had passed.
.
He blows out the last candle, the moonlight just enough for him to find his way back to their bed, Mary's furrowed brow is still visible even in the dim light.
"We will find a way to deal with him, all right? I promise." He tells her, climbing up on the bed. "Tomorrow." He holds her head gently, kissing her forehead. "Tonight, let's sleep."
She's too tired from the day to deny his request, and resolves to fight him on his plans tomorrow morning. Exhaustion weights in her bones as she sinks into his embrace. Her eyes close on their own accord as soon as her head comes to rest on his shoulder, the beat of his heart strong and sure beneath her ear. This is her sanctuary, her shelter from the storm. Her body intertwined with his underneath the sheets, his hand running up and down her back, lulling her to sleep. She feels like the sky could come crashing down outside and she would still be safe.