Chapter Three: The Wedding

The wedding was a blur. It was beautiful, of course. Catherine, the newly deposed queen, had seen to that. Henry was allowing her to remain at court and continue raising their children, bastards or not. While they had not been in love for many years, he respected Catherine. He'd taken her crown and her power, the least he could do was show her his favor out of gratitude for her begrudged compliance. Catherine had taken solace in her new title and accommodations, which were just as extravagant and queenly as before. She hoped that one day, Francis would be able to do the same.

Francis, at the suggestion of his brother Bash, had made himself scarce for the past few months. After Nostradamus had publicly acknowledged his vision of the Dauphin and his mother's deaths if they opposed the King, Francis had accepted the fate of himself and his dear Mary. He had allegedly set sail for a new life far away from his old one. King Henry was overwhelmingly relieved with the news of Francis' departure, finally settling his stomach as the pressure of having to orchestrate the boy's death had been weighing heavily upon him. He'd been confident when making his threats to Francis and Mary, knowing that the young pair would choose to be safe rather than sorry.

As the room filled with twirling skirts, music and candlelight, King Henry towered above his guests. Arguably the tallest man in the room, he was able to search the crowd with some ease and soon his eyes rested upon Mary, who was impossible to pass up. She had chosen to wear an extravagant, dark blue gown, much to the dismay of his council. "It's an unspoken protest to this marriage! To you, my lord!" They had cried, completely convinced that Mary had chosen such a mournful color to showcase her protest. Henry knew, deep down, that this was precisely what Mary had done, but he couldn't be bothered to care. She was the most beautiful woman in the room, and unlike Diane, she was completely unaware of it. Henry had to admit, he was enchanted by his young bride.

"Don't worry, Mary. About tonight, I mean," Kenna whispered to her Queen, gently placing her hands on her arm. "The King is many things… But I have never known him to be a cruel lover." The blood rushed to Mary's cheeks at the mere thought of King Henry being her lover at all! "In fact, he has arranged for the consummation to be as private as possible. Only one councilman and one lady of your choice will be permitted inside."

"Perfect, only two people will have to witness my greatest shame," Mary hissed, feeling her eyes grow wet.

"He's trying, Mary!" Kenna blurted out, the edge of irritation clear in her voice. "I am not being wicked, but you have to start thinking like a Queen again. I know this isn't how you envisioned your life...but this is a much happier ending than most. Francis is alive, you will be able to protect Scotland better now than ever before and… He is trying. I have never seen him so nervous- When he said his vows to you, he was blushing, Mary. I've never seen him do that. Not with me, not even with Diane."

"Kenna, please. Don't chastise me. I am completely aware that this was an advantageous move for Scotland, but I cannot ignore that Francis and I have been torn apart. I-" Mary's words caught in her throat, unable to ask if Kenna or Bash had received a letter from Francis. She knew that they hadn't.

King Henry had been making his way toward Mary for some time, edging closer and closer but always being halted by some noble well-wisher. Finally, he found himself standing in front of Mary and Kenna. "You look well, Kenna. How is married life treating you?"

"Very well, my lord. Your son is a wonderful man," Kenna still found herself to be a bit awkward around Henry. She no longer felt anything for him, as she'd fallen head over heels for the Master of Horse and Hunt, but being in his presence was still a bit confusing considering their past.

"Mary, would you like to dance?" Henry asked, feeling himself grow more nervous with every word. He could see her immediate hesitation and spoke again. "Please Mary, come dance with me." And with that, he reached for her hand and led her to the middle of the room, panic written across both of their faces.

As they spun around one another, Henry cleared his throat. "Now that I've finally gotten you to myself, there is something we need to discuss about tonight." Mary's heart dropped further than it already was. "I've arranged for there to only be two guests aside from ourselves, to make things as tolerable as possible for you. I have chosen a close friend, Lord Fournier. You are at liberty to choose anyone you like, though I would think that the Lady Kenna might be a bit close to, erm, home."

Mary nodded before Henry picked her up and spun her around. She'd almost forgotten that they were dancing at all. "Lady Greer, then, my lord." Henry nodded and leaned in close to Mary, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Was he going to kiss her now? Here? In front of everyone? She became painfully aware that the last song of the night was coming to an end.

"Don't worry, my Queen. I have taken care of everything," Henry whispered in her ear. At that moment, the hour was announced: midnight. It was time for the royal consummation.

**Authors note: Please review and let me know what you think so far! Any thoughts on what exactly Henry has planned?**