Mary's eyes widened at all the lavish food surrounding her. She knew the French liked to eat in style, but for a lunch banquet surely this was slightly extravagant. She took in all the scents of the room, breathing in the rich spices, honeyed meat and baked fruit that was surrounding her. She gazed round at the dishes piled high with various exotic cuisine and amongst them plates decorated with fresh seeded bread , gourmet cheese and organic produce all placed together in such a fashion the banquet looked more of a work of art than it did to just be eaten. The table was a long and 'L' shaped, and Mary had to twist her neck slightly to get a good view of all the guests and royals around her. She felt slightly out of place, realising that she didn't recognise many at all, and felt slightly relieved that she was seated next to Francis and Kenna. Though she was a Queen, amongst the French she felt more like an ornament, something to look at and praise, but she knew she would have to prove her worth eventually in order to gain respect and power.
Mary wondered if she was the only one thinking these thoughts, surely the French Court wasn't used to these kinds of meals on a regular basis? But as she scanned the room, studying the strangers around her, she realised none of them looked at all surprised by the banquet, all seeming very comfortable amongst the luxurious foods.
"Mary, you must have one of these peach tarts" blurted Francis, interrupting Mary's thoughts and scooping a delicate pastry off the top of what seemed to be a tower of desserts. "They're absolutely divine- oh and more red wine perhaps? Or do you like white, I personally am partial to red myself but of course it's up to you..." looking at his future wife, noting the odd expression on her face.
Mary made her eyes back to Francis, forcing a smile. She could sense Francis was trying to make conversation with her, to be kind to her, but as much as she appreciated his efforts she felt uncomfortable by the staged act. She was conflicted, it was difficult to ignore the expectations she had already made of Francis. After knowing she would one day wed the man, she had pictured and visualised countless scenarios, but now that she was actually living in that reality she couldn't help feeling awkward, she knew Francis was probably the same.
"Thank you Francis", mused Mary, looking down at the lightly toasted pastry in front of her, examining the fruit inside. In all truth, she didn't like peaches at all, but Francis wasn't to know that. "I was just looking at all the food we have here, and how lucky we are to have such luxuries!" she took a bite into her pastry, cringing slightly at the over-sweet taste of it.
Francis gave her a confused expression; of course she was able to enjoy such luxuries. Why would she find it out of the ordinary to be treated to such things? He'd lived a very fortunate life and was used to this way of living.
"Ah yes, I forget that Mary lived in a Convent all those years... I suppose it's no wonder she's taken back by of this..." Francis thought to himself trying to comprehend her situation, eyeing his future wife out of the corner of his eye. He took in her large brown eyes, porcelain skin and her lightly curled brunette hair and couldn't help feeling relieved that she was rather a lovely sight. Francis hoped that they would get along well eventually, hoping feverishly they wouldn't end up like his Mother and Father, whom were renowned for never being on the best of terms.
Nodding to her whilst spreading some blue cheese onto his bread roll, "well, I can't say every meal will be like this, but our cooks are ingenious when it comes to food, so you never have to fret about being poorly fed here." Grinning at her, and seeing Mary give him a hurried smile back, now holding a wine glass, Francis went back to focusing on his food, happily convinced that she was feeling comfortable now.
On the contrary however, whilst Francis had been chattering, Mary had found Sebastian siting at the end of the other side of the table seated to who she presumed was his younger brother, Prince Charles. She could see the familiarity between the two boys, both sharing the same emerald coloured eyes. Not realising she was staring directly at him, Sebastian had felt eyes upon him, and looked up, surprised to meet the gaze of the Young Queen.
Flushing red, Mary quickly reached for her glass of wine, and took a giant sip trying to calm her nerves; her heart was fluttering at the sight of him. Francis, oblivious to Mary's embarrassment, was deep in conversation with one of his second cousins, Gruesella, a pretty and full-bodied girl with a smile too wide for her face and hair fluffed back into a high up do, he had always he got on with her rather well and was now laughing at her outrageous tales of the social events over the past Summer in Paris.
Sebastian could see Mary's discomfort, and lowered his eyes to his plate. He too, was feeling much taken back by how much he seemed to be affected by her, it was an unusual feeling for him, and Sebastian couldn't help inwardly groaning at the fact that he seemed to be extremely fascinated by whom, is to be his brother's future wife.
"Just typical…" he thought to himself downing a glass of gin that he had poured into his glass before the festivities began, almost mimicking Mary's actions, "I haven't enjoyed the company of a woman in a long time, and of course the one I seem to feel a slight connection with is the Queen of Scotland." he gave a sour look to his potatoes, thinking of how much he lived up to his title of a bastard, the words unworthy, ignored and shame came to mind.
A few hours later, after the banquet had finished and most of the festivities and entertainment had come to an end, the castle was now slowly winding down for the night. Some Royals and Guests were now occupying some of the spare chambers and rooms, quiet chatter and laughter echoing round the halls, Sebastian walked aimlessly around the main corridor, he found himself once again lost in thought, visions of warm brown eyes, pink full lips and a gentle smile….
"Bash, I've been looking all over for you."
Sebastian looked up, scandalized, feeling relieved at the fact his brother could not read minds. Francis stared at him, lines on his forehead showing a sign of discomfort, his hands was fidgeting; he looked at Sebastian in question.
"… what did you think of Mary tonight? Did she seem peculiar to you at all? I know you were on the other side of the room – but did you sense something was wrong with her at all?" Francis sighed, he too felt forced with the interaction he had to make with his future bride, but he didn't want her to be unhappy here. Francis had a warm heart, but he knew he could easily misjudge situations. Sebastian always seemed to hit the nail on the head with his perceptions of people.
Sebastian averted his eyes from his younger brother, he had a few theories as to what might have been distracting Mary, but admitting them to himself would be extremely futile, let alone telling Francis, that was not an option.
"No at all, Francis. I didn't get much to chance to look at Mary… perhaps she just seems out of sorts here? She lived in a convent did she not? She most likely finds this situation strange, I'm sure she'll get used to it," drawled Sebastian, faking a nonchalant manner towards the conversation. In real truth, he had seen Mary did seem slightly anxious at the banquet, it worried him too.
Though the last thing he wanted was to give Francis any ideas that Mary and he were familiar with each other, which was odd, considering they weren't really. He barely knew the Scottish Queen, but he felt every time he had looked into his eyes, a strange connection, not a connection you usually shared with strangers, let alone royals engaged to his siblings. Sebastian breathed out, knowing how mad it all sounded in his head.
"Yes, I'm sure you're right Brother." Francis smiled, accepting Sebastian's theory about Mary's distantness. "I suppose I shouldn't expect too much of her yet… I'll see how she is tomorrow…" lifting an arm in goodbye, Francis padded down to the end of the corridor into his bedchamber, content with the thought of Mary just feeling homesick.
Sebastian continued to wander round the castle, heading back towards his own room at the other end of the castle, once again, left to his own private thoughts, thinking about the unexpected turnout the day had become.
It was now nightfall; the sky was now littered with stars and a cold chill hung in the air. Lola and Mary were in her Chamber, comfortably sitting on the beautiful blue upholstered armchairs across from the flickering fireplace, discussing the day's events… and the people involved in it. Mary had spent her whole afternoon mingling with those in the French Court, making good impressions and introductions. The amount of social etiquette she had to remember had been exhausting, and she had been looking forward to having a quiet night in to rest. Though Mary knew the minute Lola had knocked on her chamber's door to ask for her company, she was to be interrogated by her Lady about a particular somebody.
"Mary. Honestly, I'm not blind I saw the way you were looking at him, and him to you! Surely you must have noticed." Lola exclaimed, rolling her eyes at her Queen who was staring stubbornly down into her spiced tea cup. "I mean – I can understand why you were looking, I mean he certainly is a sight to behold..." Mary was now staring at Lola with something of a pained expression on her face.
She knew exactly what Lola was implying, and of course she had noticed Sebastian looking at her during the Banquet, her heart skipped a beat every time she pictured him. Though she knew how dangerous those thoughts were, she was here to marry Francis, to build a safe and secure alliance with France, for her country. The whole reality of this was complicated enough without throwing in an attraction to the King's bastard son, one she now, after mulling over her thoughts (and heartstrings) she knew she had.
Mary sighed, and gazed at her lady who had a triumphant look on her face. Lola was more than a Lady to her though, she was a friend. She knew she could trust her with the intimate matters of her heart, but she still felt on edge about admitting it.
"Ah, yes. Well, Sebastian did seem very… kind. I can't deny I would like to know him better during my time here." she mumbled, choosing her words carefully.
Lola chuckled at Mary, whom she knew all too well, was no doubt having an inner battle with herself in relation to her feelings.
"Mary, is 'kind' really the only word you can think of to describe him? Surely handsome would be more of a suitable choice. "She winked at the young Queen whose cheeks were now turning an interesting shade of red. Lola knew Mary felt embarrassed, but Lola had seen the way the two had stared at each other; she had certainly seen that there was something beneath, an attraction that was beyond appearance-wise praise.
Mary gulped at that outward remark; she knew she couldn't hide things from Lola. She was very easy to read, her emotions were always written all over her face. A trait she knew she would need to learn to conceal more, a Queen, must not rule by heart.
"Well yes, Bash is very handsome, ah, so is Francis as well, of course. The King certainly has fine boys… uh, I'm sorry Lola, I've had a long day, I think I would desire some sleep." Stammered Mary, who knew she had put herself into a corner.
Lola smiled and stood from the armchair, curtsying politely at her Queen who was now wincing slightly at where the conversation had ended.
"Of course Mary, I wish you pleasant dreams. But, I must say this to you…"
Mary looked up to her friend, who had trailed off her words.
Lola held gaze, her eyes twinkling, "remember, that you are not Francis's bride just yet. Goodnight." And with that Lola walked towards the door, closing it gently behind her.
Mary gave the door a shocked expression, feeling the blush return to her cheeks. She knew Lola meant no harm with her words, but was she correct with what she was implying? Was it…possible? Mary shook her head, walking slowly towards her bed and pulling down the sheets to get in. "No, of course it's not possible, I need to focus. I hate to think what the nuns would think of me now; getting all flustered over a man that isn't even my husband-to-be. Oh dear…" thought Mary, cringing at the idea.
Soon enough, her thoughts gave way, the crackle of the fireplace lulling to her sleep, as she dreamt of a man with green eyes.