It had not been freedom. "Escape" had only led to a different path in the endless labyrinth of the abyss.

When a knock on the door broke the silence, they assumed it was the innkeeper coming to check on the racket. The last thing they expected to see was Queen Catherine in the doorway. "If you'll excuse us, Lord Conde, I need a word with my daughter-in-law." she said icily as she swept in.

Louis hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Mary, then seeing her nod, he left the two queens alone, shutting the door behind him.

Mary spoke first. "How did you find us?"

Catherine looked around the room distastefully. "Your former lady-in-waiting Greer appears to have made some new unsavory connections since her drop in station. A 'female escort' mentioned she saw a couple matching your description riding this way. Perhaps I'll recruit Greer to my Flying Squad of informants," she mused.

"Catherine," Mary huffed impatiently, "what are you doing here?"

Catherine scoffed and retorted, "I should be asking you that, though from the looks of things, that seems fairly obvious."

Mary took in the scene Catherine had walked into, with Mary and Louis disheveled in a single-bed room at a less-than-reputable inn, under false identities. "Nothing happened. It's not what you think."

Catherine arched her brow at her. "Oh? So you're not running off with your husband's cousin and putting the entire Valois line, your claim to the throne, as well as your head at risk?"

Mary stood taller and squared her shoulders. "I'm going home to Scotland, with Conde as my traveling companion for protection. I don't expect you to understand."

"Good, because I don't." She pursed her lips. "I'm here because of Francis." At the sound of his name, the guilt that Mary had managed to suppress until then came back with a vengeance. "As soon as he heard you'd fled the castle, he wanted to go after you. But I warned him that pursuit would only fan the flames of court gossip and confirm that you were guilty of treason. So he asked me to bring you back home." She gave an ironic smirk. "I'm here to save you."

Mary frowned in annoyance. "I don't need saving. My people do. I've spent too long in France. I must return to lead them. This is what I-they need right now."

"Oh, don't be so naive," she snapped. "Do you really think it wise to leave our protection for Scotland, rushing headlong into a Protestant uprising and so close to enemy territory where the English Queen Elizabeth would have you assassinated the minute you stepped off the ship? Do you honestly believe you would even reach Calais before being hunted down for betraying your king husband for a rival prince of the blood? You know better. You would lose your heads and drag France into a war with both Scotland and Navarre and probably England too. And don't tell me that this schoolgirl crush with Conde is worth risking all that, or Francis' love."

Mary swallowed hard. "This isn't about Francis. It's about my birthright and responsibility as Queen of Scots." She began meekly, "I-I don't mean to hurt him-"

"Yes, you do." Catherine cut in. "You're punishing him for his hand in the attack."

"No," gasped Mary. "I would never do that. I know it wasn't his fault, not really, and I still care for him."

"You still love Francis. So why are you here with Conde and not at home with your husband?"

Mary sighed. "Love isn't always enough to save a marriage. You know this better than anyone, Catherine. Too much has happened. We can't go back." She looked down at her clasped hands, her gold wedding band glinting in the dim candlelight. "I can't be the girl he loved anymore... Sometimes, people fall out of love. Sometimes they find new love."

"Rubbish." Mary snapped her head back up. "I do not believe you could stop loving Francis so quickly, not after everything I saw you two go through." She narrowed her eyes. "No, you chose to run away from your troubles and used a loyal lapdog as an excuse. You're confusing the safety of your non-threatening friendship for new 'love,' and you're mistaking stubbornness and recklessness for bravery and fortitude. You'd rather hide away than stay and face your demons head-on, stay and fight like a queen, to repair your marriage to the man you love and do your duty to your countries." She took a step closer and sneered, "I thought you were smarter, stronger, better than that."

Mary was left momentarily dumbstruck before outrage took over. "How dare you? You know what I've been through, what I've suffered."

"Yes, and I'm truly sorry," Catherine said sincerely. "After what happened to you, no one would blame you if you resented Francis, or even stopped loving him. But that doesn't give you the right to just walk away, desert France, and destroy the Valois dynasty. After we did everything we could to help you get through this ordeal-"

"You silenced me," Mary said harshly. "To protect your precious house."

"To protect you!" Catherine shouted, then lowered her voice again. "If word had gotten out that you had been raped, then with no heir, Francis would have been forced to annul your marriage. He could easily find another lady of royal blood to become his queen, but what would have happened to you after such a fall?"

She'd be a disgraced queen, Mary knew, an outcast with nowhere to turn.

"Francis respected your wishes and gave you all the time, support, and space you wanted."

Guilt made Mary's heart ache. "I know," she said quietly.

"He knew there was no guarantee that you would ever reconcile with him, but he stayed by your side."

"I asked him not to wait for me-" whispered Mary.

"And you threw his love and kindness back in his face." Catherine pushed on. "If you could not find it in yourself to love him as your husband again, then you owed it, to yourself, to him, to your peoples, to respect him as your fellow monarch and continue to rule together."

Mary breathed heavily, struggling to contain herself.

"He deserved that much at least. If you loved him at all."

"I know that!" Mary burst out with all the anger, frustration, and despair bottled within her. "But I-I just couldn't live like that anymore. I had to get away."

"To selfishly think of securing your own happiness." Catherine mercilessly provoked.

"And what is so wrong about that?" Mary cried, choked with emotion. "Tell me, what's wrong with wanting to feel free and safe and happy again?" Her eyes brimmed with tears she refused to shed.

Unexpectedly, Catherine's expression softened, as did her voice. "Nothing. There's nothing wrong with that, my dear. I understand why you left. After falling victim to circumstances outside your control, one is desperate to take back the reins and assert one's own will, and to stay far away from anything that could be a reminder of such a dark period." Mary could see she spoke from her own experience as her eyes grew distant for a moment before turning back to Mary. "But running off into the night on a suicide mission isn't the way. You don't need to march to war to prove your worth. You don't need a man to feel worthy of love. Self-worth is something you discover within, not out there." She sat down on the bed and gestured to Mary, waiting for her to join her. "No one expects you to go back to being the innocent young girl you once were. But they are expecting the noble, steadfast queen they know you to be." Mary closed her eyes and shook her head, convinced that was impossible. "You may not feel that way now, but," Catherine reached out and took Mary's hand, "I swear to you, someday soon, you will rise from the fires of this crucible, tempered like steel, harder, sharper, and stronger than before."

Mary looked into the steely gaze of this hardened queen, who had been assaulted as a young woman as well and who then rose above it to become the most fearsome leader Mary had ever known, and she believed her. Catherine was tangible proof that Mary could overcome and be whole again, perhaps love again.

"Come back with me." Catherine said. "Not just because your alliance with France is the best protection for Scotland. Not even for Francis' sake. Go back for yourself. To prove to yourself that you are the same brave, righteous, compassionate queen you've always been. Don't run away. Take back control of your life."

Mary took a deep breath, gave a silent prayer, then nodded. Mary was going home. Not to the birth country she'd fantasized about, but the place where she'd built her life, where her heart truly lied.