Chapter 2

Mary walked around the garden with Francis, struggling to keep the conversation from grinding to a halt. She couldn't figure out why it was so hard to talk to him now. They rounded a stone wall near the edge of the garden and Francis stopped in his tracks.

"Olivia?" He whispered, staring at a beautiful blonde girl at the opposite end of the path.

"Francis!" She exclaimed, hurrying towards the Dauphin.

Mary watched, mouth slightly agape as Francis ran to meet this woman. She watched as Francis gently touched her face and murmured quiet words to her. Mary turned to leave, not wanting to see anymore of their display. She thumped into a solid chest and nearly lost her footing.

"Your Grace!" Bash exclaimed, gently grasping her shoulders so she wouldn't fall.

"What's wrong?" He asked, scrutinizing her face.

Mary gestured behind her and Bash's eyes took in the scene.

"What is she doing here?" He asked quietly, talking more to himself than to Mary.

"Who is she?" Mary asked, though she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know.

"Olivia, she was a...friend of Francis's. She left court a couple of months before you arrived."

"When you say friend, do you mean?..."

"Yes," Bash stated quietly. He didn't need Mary to finish her sentence to know where her thoughts had taken her.

"I see," Mary said, moving to step around Bash and escape the scene in the garden.

"Your Grace?" The question in Bash's voice made Mary pause in her retreat. "Would you like to accompany me on a ride? I've been told you enjoy horses."

Mary opened her mouth to refuse, but stopped herself. She decided she didn't want to be alone right now.

"I suppose a ride might be nice." She smiled at Bash tentatively.

"I will go see that our horses are prepared."

"Yes, I will meet you at the stables," Mary said, looking down at her dress. "I must change into something more suitable for riding."


Mary met Bash at the stables. He had two horses already saddled for them.

"I'm surprised you agreed to come."

Mary grimaced slightly, "I don't really feel like being around people right now."

"By people I take it you mean Francis?" Bash asked as he helped Mary onto her horse.

Mary sighed as she settled into the saddle. "Yes, I just don't understand why things are so difficult with him. We were friends as children, we've been betrothed for just as long, but I feel like he is resisting this union. Have I done something? Does he not want to marry me? Why does he prefer Olivia? Am I inadequate in some way?"

"It's unfathomable." Bash stated.

"What is?" Mary asked, confused by his statement.

"When Francis has you, why would he ever look elsewhere?"

Mary blushed crimson at Bash's words, daring to catch his eye.

He looked at her sincerely and Mary knew he meant every word. She blushed deeper still and fumbled for some way to reply. She decided to be honest.

"To him, I am Mary, Queen of Scots, a country that is more of a liability than an asset at the moment, but I long for him to see me as just Mary, just a girl and him just a boy."

"If you were just a girl, and Francis were just a boy, would he be the kind of boy you would want to tie yourself to?" Bash asked gently.

Mary paused before she answered, realizing no one had ever asked her if she wanted to marry Francis. She was surprised to realize she wasn't at all sure her answer was yes. Before she could voice her thoughts, cold reality set in. It did not matter what she wanted.

"What I want isn't relevant. An alliance with France is what my country needs. I will never be just a girl."

"No, you could never be just a girl, Mary. You are too extraordinary for that, but that doesn't mean your desires shouldn't matter. You, of all people should get exactly what you want."

Mary whispered to herself, "I wish that were true."

With that whispered confession, Mary kicked her horse into a fierce gallop and raced back to the castle. She decided she did want to be alone after all. Being around Bash made it much too hard to think clearly.


Catherine stood by her chamber window, watching as the young queen galloped back to the stables. In the garden, she could just see two golden heads bent toward each other in conversation. She smiled to herself. Olivia's reappearance had elicited just the reaction she had hoped for. Catherine looked at the bottle she held in her hand and her smile grew wider. Francis was going to put the final nail in the coffin of this engagement. She would make sure of that.