I'm sorry it took me that long – and that it's still kind of preparing Frary much more than being Frary. I'm working on the final chapter, but I've been doing so for the past four weeks and it just won't get right. So I thought I'd upload this little piece as a promise (to me as well) that I haven't abandoned this story. Sorry but I hope you like it a bit.

Opening her eyes – seconds or hours after she had broken down in her friend's arms – Mary found herself looking at Lola's throat, the skin unscathed and beautiful. Automatically, her hand moved up to her own neck, and she registered that the same miracle had happened to herself.
"It's strange, isn't it?" Lola smiled as she gently pushed Mary away and helped her to sit. "How we not only seem cured of every wound and disease but also become young again, as if we never left the French court. I've been here for quite a while and I still don't understand it. But I… I got used to it. It's alright." She swallowed, and for a moment the happy mask broke. "I got used to it. I…"
Mary reached out and touched Lola's cheek before she could smile again, stopping her midsentence. "Lola…"
"No, Mary!" The other woman shook her head. "I know what you want to say, but you're wrong. This was my decision. It was my life. I thought I was risking it for you, and in that belief I would do it again. I… I would have loved to be with my family, yes, but…" suddenly there were tears in her eyes, but she shook them away impatiently, trying bravely to smile. Lola never had allowed herself to wallow in self-pity. Mary had always admired her for that. Now, however, it only made her feel more worthless. More lost.

"Jean is happy" Lola finished. "I saw my first granddaughter born a few months ago. They're alright, my son and his little family."
Mary bit her lips. "I should have taken care of him. I should have looked after him…"
Lola quickly shook her head. "No. What you did was perfect. You gave them the chance to leave Scotland in peace, that was all he needed. He is happy, Mary! He lives far from court, far from harm, a normal life… that is all I could have wished for him!"

A normal life. Mary closed her eyes. In a different life, Francis and she had mused about such a thing. On some days, they had pretended to have it – a simple life, just the two of them with their children, responsible only for those they loved… it had been a wonderful dream.
But nothing more.

And then everything had been taken from her, and her life had turned into a nightmare. Mary shuddered as the moment of Francis' death rose in her mind, as it had done a thousand times before. Over the years, this had become how she knew him best, how she remembered him the clearest – dead. A pale, still face, eyes flat and empty, looking up into an empty sky.

"Really, Mary, it's alright." Soothingly, Lola put an arm around her. "And as for Stéphane… I would never have asked that of him, but…" A shy smile played around her lips. "Well, who'd thought he'd become such a caring father? And grandfather, now. I didn't think it could be enough for him."
"It isn't." Mary frowned. Something Lola had said was bugging her, but she couldn't name it yet. "But what choice does he have? He lost you."
"Well, but he could have taken another wife." There it was again, that small but proud smile. Two queens and countless ladies had in vain tried what Lola had achieved, without trying, just by being herself: she had tamed Stéphane Narcisse. From all Mary had heard, it was true; he had not touched a woman since Lola had been executed.
Suddenly, Mary felt sick. Narcisse had been more faithful than her.

"Anyway." Lola stood up. "As much I'm happy to see you, we both know I'm not the one you really need to see. And I won't come with you."
Francis. The thought sent another bolt of pain through Mary's stomach, but she ignored it. "What do you mean, you won't come with me? Where am I going?"
"Beyond." Lola shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know how it works, or where it is. But I know my way around by now. People are waiting, Mary. Nobody ends up alone in death, we are reunited with those we love most. Leith's long passed on, the moment Claude died they were gone together. I don't know what your mother waits for, or Catherine, to be honest. I thought they surely had bid their time here, except…" She bit her lips, and Mary nodded, thoughtful. "They were waiting for me. But I don't really think I gave them the answer they needed." She swallowed. "So you are bound to wait here for your husband?"
"Yes." Lola's voice was soft with longing. "I've been keeping an eye on him as Francis has on you, but seeing is never enough. You don't know how it feels to…" She shuddered. "How it feels to see the people you love most suffer so terribly, and miss you while you're standing right next to them… Mary? Mary, what's wrong?"
She gently touched her friend's shoulder but Mary didn't feel it, didn't feel anything.
Francis had been watching her. She didn't understand how this was possible, but there was no reason to doubt Lola's words.
Francis had seen everything she had done. Everything.

Mary started to sob as the pain of losing her husband returned, as strong as it had been on the first day. She had lost Francis, again. And this time, there was no hope of salvation, no other world where she would see him again. Death had often seemed like a friend to Mary, it would end her misery; it would make her see Francis again.
Now she realized death was the peak of desperation, a promise of ongoing pain, once again, and this time, it was her fault. She had betrayed her husband, and he had seen her doing it... had seen her sleeping with and hurting his brother.
How could he ever forgive her?

"Hey." Lola's eyes lit up as they moved to something behind Mary. "I guess I don't get another couple of minutes?"
"I'm sorry, Lola. But I've waited long enough to see her again."
Mary jerked at the voice answering. It was firm and alive and so warm that it melted something inside her. She was afire, light as a feather and heavy as stone at the same time.
Mary barely noticed the tears running down her cheeks. Her stomach was filled with butterflies. "Francis." Her voice was almost inaudible but that didn't matter. It didn't matter that he hated her, that she had lost every chance of forgiveness, that their countries weren't safe,… years of loneliness. Didn't matter anymore.

"Alright, then." Lola smiled once again, then she hugged Mary fiercely. "Don't worry", she whispered into her ear. "You'll both be alright."
Mary bit her lips. "Did you watch me, too?", she whispered back.
Lola pulled back and frowned. "Not often, to be honest. I trusted on Francis to tell me how you are. Why?" She grinned mischievously. "What did you do?"

"Lola." Francis was standing close behind her now. "Please."
Only now, the woman's smile faded. She backed away, just a bit, but to Mary it felt like a knife stuck through her. Then again, what had she expected? This was what she deserved. She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. It was beginning. She had seen all those she had been missing – and now she was losing them again. Forever.

"Mary."
She wanted to keep her eyes shut as she felt Francis sit down beside her, knowing she would not survive seeing him now.
"Mary, please. Let me look at you."
Her need for him was stronger than for life, stronger than for sanity.
"I'm so sorry." Shivering, Mary opened her eyes.

It was him. Alive and more beautiful than she remembered, his eyes wide and awake with joy, sorrow, and something she had just buried every hope for: love.