I take a deep a breath and gather all my courage. Trying to sound diplomatic and as unemotional as possible I say, "I have decided that in the interests of all parties involved, including those of our countries, that it is best I wed Sebastian."
As soon as the words leave my lips the room is full of noise. Many are outraged, and for good reason. No one overall looks happy, but I try my best to look as though this does not affect me and continue. "I suggest, your Majesties, that Sebastian be legitimized. I'm sure the Vatican will make him the heir to the throne when it sees that our two countries are united."
Catherine looks as though she could come at me with her bare hands and the agony on Francis' face is enough to make my heart skip a beat. The King looks pleased that we have come to a resolution, and is surely glad that he will still have the Queen of Scotland to use as a front for invading England.
The King stands and calls the room to order. "Mary, I am...glad that we are able to come to a peaceful solution together. Your wedding will happen as soon as possible, we will force the Pope into legitimizing Bash. In fact, you will be married tomorrow, here. It doesn't need to be lavish, just official. I'm sure that the servants will be able to decorate by then."
I speak carefully not to lash out in anger. "Yes, it is quite well that your son need not be killed. And yes, I do believe this marriage should take place as soon as possible, as it will give both of our countries more security." I glance to Bash who I can tell is attempting to hide a smile, and he nods in agreement.
"It's settled then," Henry booms,"go now, make your preparations, and tomorrow I will have a queen as a daughter-in-law."
Bash and I leave, and I tell him I would like to speak with him privately. He leads me to his room and we sit and begin to talk. "Bash," I say, "I know that this I a lot for you. You were never raised to be the ruler of anywhere. You didn't plan for your life to go this way and I understand if you are apprehensive."
He clasps my small hands in his rough ones and stares at me with such a look of adoration I blush. "Mary," he starts, "I would marry you this instant, or I would wait a thousand years. As long as you are mine, all other things will not matter. You have made me the happiest man to walk the earth, and I have been waiting for you to begin to love me for so long, and I believe that you are. I'm not a fool, I can see through the charade you use on Francis. I know you still love him. But I also know, a small part of you loves me as well.
I stare at him dumbstruck, shocked that he has seen through the wall that I'd been using to block out my feelings. "And how are you sure of that? How are you sure of me? How do you know that you'll be happy with me, and not another, who's heart isn't already taken?"
He scoots his chair closer to mine, so that I can feel his hot breath on my face. "I know, because if you didn't you wouldn't care about my feelings. You wouldn't talk to me now, you'd only be concerned about saving Francis, not whether or not I am comfortable with marrying you. I know because If you didn't love me, this would only be a marriage of convenience. But it isn't, if it was you wouldn't allow me to touch you like this." His hand strokes my cheek, and he brings me to my feet. He grips my waist so I am pressed up against him so tightly that our faces touch. "I know because if you didn't," he continues, "You wouldn't let me do this."
He kisses me, and my whole body radiates. He holds me In his arms with such a sense of security, that I forget my troubles. Francis, England, they all seem to melt away.
When he pulls away, he still holds me close. He whispers, "I know I will be happy because I have hope. Hope for us."
His words fill me with guilt for not being able to return these feelings, for not feeling nearly as committed. Trying not to sound cold I say, "That's all well, but the moment we are married you will be the King of Scotland and not soon after the king of France and even England, god willing."