Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Having exhausted herself from her unexpected self-reflection, Kenna eventually fell asleep until she was awoken by Charles and little Henry who seemed to garner quite a bit of amusement from such a task.

The caravan had apparently paused to give the horses a rest which is how the two Princes were able to get to her in the first place.

Since that time she had taken instead to thinking back on the conversation she had with Francis before she left Spain, though Kenna was still mildly in shock that he would even consider such a thing.

He wanted her to agree to marry Bash. The bastard son of her former lover and his Father.

Francis logic had not been unreasonable. Because of her past she would do better wed sooner than later, and Francis had voiced his worry for Bash who was becoming more and more focused on some undeclared battle that took him away from the Castle far to often. He wanted his half brother to have a solid tie to back to Court in an attempt to ensure that his quest did not also bring about his death. He then went on to describe Kenna as beautiful and passionate, 'just the thing Bash needed in his life'.

She had never quite heard it put in that manner. Either he had spent a lot of time coming up with such a polite way of describing her or he didn't think as low of her as everyone else.

It would be unconventional to say the least, but Francis was certain he could get his Father's blessing, and as Bash would be…well perhaps not thrilled with the arrangement, but Francis was sure he could convince him. Mary had already agreed to give Kenna leave of her service if she so chose and was agreeable to the proposal.

He had told her, however, he would not move forward with asking Bash or the King until she accepted, and that it was her option to refuse entirely.

Bash was not in her mind the ideal husband. He had no title or land but Francis said that he could fix that too. He was also very quiet, not interested in what she usually found attractive. Then again, with respect to her pervious internal monologue, her 'usual' anything when it came to men had been rather fruitless in the past…perhaps it was time for a change.

He was also one of the most loyal men she knew, sweet and caring when he desired to be, and knew how to get a job done…even a less than desirable one.

In some ways it would simplify her life. Looking for a husband had become a chore which seemed both impossible and even more necessary in her current state. As if the longer she went without being able to find one, the less…capable…worthy she was.

Sighing at her conundrum she allowed her mind to wander briefly. Even entertained the possibility of offering herself as one of Catherine's 'special' ladies as another option over forcing herself to wed.

The older woman seemed to resent her less of late and being one of Mary's ladies had garnered her neither favor nor advantage in this particular area.

Why was it so important for a woman to find a husband anyway?

She understood the reasons that Mary had to. With England's relentless campaign Scotland still dearly needed an alliance such as this one, and marriage was the simplest option. And course there was the need for heirs to the Crown.

In this she did not envy Mary one bit.

If only Kenna's mother were still around. Sending a communique back to Scotland would take a painfully extended length of time, but she could use the advice of someone who had lived a little more than her friends, and whom she could be certain that confidences would be kept.

Perhaps she would consider approaching Catherine after all…they seemed to have developed a certain bond…understanding…something when the Queen had been imprisoned. Not the most congenial bond perhaps, but what else did she have to lose?

She was clearly no longer a threat to Catherine regarding Henry and had no intention of becoming one again. Since the King and Queen's renewed relationship had become public knowledge Kenna made sure to stay far far away from anything that might suggest that she was trying to get close to the King.

Not only had Henry cast her aside, but to have embraced Catherine again as he had…no Kenna would not be making any sort of attempt at regaining his affections, or even pretending to. She wanted her head to stay firmly attached to her shoulders, literally and figuratively.

It may surprise some people but Kenna was not that stupid. Young and sometimes naive, perhaps even a bit overambitious at times, but her rash decisions were made out of an enthusiasm for life and crossing Catherine in that way again was guaranteed to bring certain death.

Should she approach the Queen now, at best Catherine would give her wise advice, at worse she would think it was a horrid idea and tell Francis as much. Falling somewhere in the middle there still lay the unlikely possibility of Catherine offering Kenna a position as one of her ladies or that she might even have a few suitors in mind.

Catherine had shown in the past that she could be kind and motherly when she so chose. She had done so with Mary from time to time…perhaps this plan was something to consider.

Chuckling softly to herself she sighed.

To think she was even considering asking Catherine de Medici for advice. Perhaps she had changed.

-/-/-/-/-

Another ball, another gown, another fake smile.

Catherine could hardly stand it.

She was glad that her children had returned. She was even glad that Mary and Kenna were back, despite their sometimes confoundedly questionable decisions. But she as not in any way happy that she had to endure another stuffy, boring, overly-everything night where the drunkards drank too much, the Nobles tried to wheedle far to much out of both she and her husband, and…

Sighing, she looked over at the man himself, and the extremely flirtatious probably partially drunk child hanging off of his arm.

Pursing her lips she stared at her…him…them a moment more…

Who would have ever thought she would be bemoaning a husband who was attractive and charming?

What woman would? Then again this was Henry and he had spent most of his life spreading his charms far more liberally than she had appreciated.

Smiling, laughing, dancing, carousing…

Enough.

Walking over to her the man in question, she was momentarily delayed by first Kenna, and then Mary.

Would they never learn?

When she was so clearly on her way somewhere, and obviously needed to be there and not here…how was this such a difficult concept?

She had brushed them off without too much of a fuss. The pouts on their faces though were most unbecoming.

She would have to talk to Mary about that later.

Right, back to the flirty lightweight hanging off of her husband.

Approaching the small crowd, she smoothly wrapped her arm around his free side, making sure to allow her nails to press unmistakably though the fabric at his waist.

When the conversation he was having came to a natural pause, he glanced over at her. Her heels were of an impressive height this evening, and she made certain to make good use of them when he finally met her gaze. 'Outside' she asserted, 'I need to be with you, alone'.

"Will you excuse me gentleman."

Shaking off the child who had made herself an adornment on his arm, Catherine smirked at his lack of care.

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, she led him into a secluded part of the gardens where she unceremoniously pushed him back against a wall and roughly pulled his head down to meet hers.

"Catherine."

Henry tried to get out in between kisses.

"Catherine, what…"

But she continued, relentlessly.

Even if there was little she could do in the public eye to claim him as she desired, he was hers, and she wanted to be sure he remembered that.

Suddenly Henry grabbed hold of her shoulders and turned her swiftly around, Catherine felt like she would burst right out of her dress. Her breathing had become quite labored and her emotions so entangled that she felt like she might just crawl right out of her skin.

Henry too was breathing rather heavily and he held her there for a moment, one arm wrapped around her waist while the other sought to keep her hands from wandering where they shouldn't.

"Catherine, I do love this…passionately impulsive side of you, but perhaps there would be a better time for this, later?" He ground out, both shocked and enthralled by this somewhat feral side of her.

Using what little movement she was still able to command, Catherine tried to turn herself in his grasp so that she could again capture his lips. She eventually gave up though in deference to her dress which she now remembered was not made of the most durable of fabrics.

"That child was falling all over you, Henry. I didn't like it."

"Yes well, perhaps you might continue your…quest of delineating the extent of your displeasure at a better time and place my dear, as much as I would love to continue this with you both here and now."

Turning her head so that he could just see only the silhouette of her lips she replied, "If you insist Henry," before carefully working to remove his hands with such precise and measured movements that he was once again mesmerized. She then sauntered forward, back in the direction of the party.

Taking a moment to calm himself, Henry rubbed his hand over his face, trying to process what exactly had just happened.

Catherine never did that.

In fact it was always she that was putting the damper on his impulses, and his fun.

Shaking his head at the unending puzzle that was his wife, he pushed off the wall to go and rejoin the party when he heard Francis's voice calling to him from a few rows over.

Walking to where he knew the paths all converged, Henry continued to take cleansing breaths as he prepared to face his heir, and shortly to return to the masses.

"Yes Francis, what is it?"

Amused by the sight of first his head and then his body popping out from behind the bushes, Henry waited for his Son to continue.

How they…how Catherine had managed to raise such an amazing child was absolutely beyond him.

She was indeed amazing.

"Is everything alright Father?" Francis hedged.

"Of course," he replied, stopping himself from glancing down his own figure. He had made sure that he was perfectly well settled before emerging.

"Mother seemed…a bit agitated when you and she left just now, which is quite unusual for her. I just wanted to make sure that nothing was amiss."

He seemed hesitant in his inquiry, which gave Henry a momentary pause.

If there was one thing Catherine had been sure to do, it was to shield her children from his moods…specifically so that they might never worry about what he might do to them in the way that Francis seemed to now. Why his Son might seem nervous around him, Henry was unsure.

"Everything is fine Francis. Your Mother simply needed to…speak to me for a moment, but as you see she had returned to the party, I believe in much higher spirits than she left."

'That is one way of putting it' Francis thought.

"Now then," his Father continued, "How have you and Mary progressed towards creating an heir?"

Rolling his eyes at the topic Francis answered briefly before turning the discussion away from the overly belabored subject.

Next his Father would suggest turning he and Mary over to his Mother for different potions they should be trying. It neither amused he, nor his Bride, and was one of the many things they didn't miss while they were away.