"Do you want to go to Paris?" asks Francis. He strokes my bare back, our limbs entwined beneath the sheets. "It would be just you and me. Your mother could take care of Anne while we're gone." I raise myself up on one elbow, lightly tickling his chest with my fingers, and I smile at him. "I'm sure court won't notice our absence during the festivities."

"Francis—"

"Mary, the fighting is over. Antoine and Louis are dead and Scotland and England have made peace," my husband reminds me. "It's over, Mary." I meet his eyes. He's right. I don't know why I'm still so wound up and tense. Perhaps it's because I've ever really had a peaceful period in my life where I didn't have to worry about politics and the pressures of being queen of two countries.

"I would love to go to Paris," I whisper. "Dance under the stars, spend all day and night making love." I kiss him softly. "And just have you all to myself." Francis chuckles, snaking a hand through my hair, before he covers my mouth under his. I roll atop of him, holding his face between my hands, not daring to separate myself from our kiss. His hands roam my back and through my hair; I'm unable to keep from smirking as a hand finds the curve of my ass as I begin to ride him, building a tentative rhythm between us. I plant my hands on his chest for balance and I pick up the pace. Francis leans back on the pillow and closes his eyes, surrendering all control to me. I throw my head back as adrenaline begins to course through me and the all too familiar build-up to orgasm rises inside me. Francis doesn't move a muscle as I glide up and down on him, taking all I can possibly get from him. He groans and lets out the occasional grunt, but he doesn't once buck his hips against me or make a single movement to pleasure me all the more.

A powerful orgasm washes over me and for a moment, I literally see stars. I scream loudly and Francis flips me over down upon my back in a swift motion. He immediately covers my body in his and his mouth is on mine. I wrap my arms around him, sliding my hands down the sides of his neck to his broad, sculpted chest and his mouth is suddenly on my neck, sucking and kissing and biting. I arch my back as my mouth falls open in a wordless moan. My body ignites in response to his every touch, kiss, and caress. I turn my head to the side to give him full access to my neck, gripping his forearms.

"You are so fucking beautiful," Francis murmurs against my neck between kisses, "and so, so sexy." He moves to my breasts, fondling one with one hand and taking my other breast in his mouth. My back bows off the bed briefly and I move my fingers into his hair. My back bows off the bed as another orgasm floods through me, but my husband grabs my hips and pins me to the mattress, keeping me still. I squirm against him, frustrated at being unable to move. I buck my hips against him and he raises his head long enough to tsk at me.

He positions himself between my legs and kisses my chest softly, before he raises his head and places his palms on my lower chest. His fingers caress my skin and my chest heaves in anticipation as he draws out his sensual torture. Heat pools between my thighs and he caresses my thighs, before dipping his fingers into that secret place deep inside me that has always ignited my passion.

"Francis," I murmur. "Francis, I need you." I can already feel myself going crazy with desire for him. It is a mighty struggle to keep myself still. His lips glide across my skin, moving from my chest to my leg. I moan quietly as he kisses my inner thigh and he thrusts into me in one, powerful stroke. I seize the opportunity and kiss him. He pushes into me again and again and again, until I unravel and come completely undone in his arms.

The peace banners adorn the throne room and the halls. As Francis and I leave our chambers hand-in-hand, it's impossible not to stare at them. It all feels so…surreal. It really is over. We can be together without having to worry about the threat of our enemies hanging over our heads. Our children will be safe. Our family is safe. I'm suddenly smiling uncontrollably and I take my husband aside, before granting him a passionate kiss. He presses my back to the wall and his hands entangle in my hair. I sigh quietly as he presses hot, openmouthed kisses into my neck. I can feel him barely restraining himself from ripping my clothes off right here in this hallway. I grab his face and kiss him twice just as—

"Your Majesties, the limo is waiting for you," the chauffer tells us. We spring apart from each other, startled at this interruption. Blood rushes to my cheeks and Francis's arm comes around my waist. He kisses my hair and rubs my back.

"Come on, Mary," he says. "Let's go to Paris."

The ride to Paris is relatively quiet. I sit with my head resting on my husband's shoulder, our fingers locked together. The scenery of France passes us by in the windows; Versailles is nothing but a mere dot in the distance now.

"I always knew we would be married," I confess, breaking the silence. I raise my head up to look at him. "Ever since our first dance after I returned to court…do you remember? Everyone was so excited about my return and our marriage."

"Yes, I remember," my husband says. "I think I knew, too. I just didn't want to admit it to myself. It seems so long ago."

"Another lifetime," I agree. Back when everything was simple. Easy. "I've missed it when our life is like this. Quiet. Peaceful. I want this life for our children, grandchildren and great grandchildren."

"And they will have it," Francis tells me. He strokes my cheek gently and I melt into his touch. His gaze is heartbreakingly tender, and he pulls me into a deep kiss. I reach for him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt before wrapping my arms around him. I let my head fall backwards as my eyes flutter closed, giving my husband more access to my neck. His mouth moves from my neck to the cleavage my dress offers and I put my hands in his hair, urging him lower.

"Francis…" I murmur. "Oh, yes, Francis!" I open my eyes and I freeze. "Driver, stop the car!" My husband looks up at me, surprised by my outburst.

"Why are we stopping?" he asks. As soon as the car stops, I take him by the hand and lead him outside.

"There is a lake not too far from here," I tell him. "I was thinking we could go for a swim, leave our clothes on the shore…" I trail off suggestively, leaving his mind to fill in the blanks. He grins when he catches my meaning and over his shoulder he yells to our guards, "Wait here for us!" I burst into laughter and lead him to the lakeside.

He makes short work of my dress, spinning me around so my back is pressed to him and pulling down the zipper in the back in one swift motion. My dress immediately falls to the ground, baring me to him, and I tug at my husband's shirt. He pulls his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the ground, and I eagerly undo his belt. I slide it through the loops and toss it aside. His mouth covers mine possessively and I reach for the buckle of his jeans. He tugs them down and tosses them aside, completely naked. I grab his hand and, hand-in-hand, we jump into the water.

The water is soothingly warm, much to my delight. The sun's rays shine down upon us as we splash one another and embrace, exchanging passionate kisses and laughing and playing together like the children we once were.

We lay together on the shore, sprawled out on our discarded clothing under the afternoon sun. I trace a pattern into his chest with my fingers, smiling down upon him. For the most part, we're dried off but our hair is still damp.

"I love you, Francis," I say quietly. I playfully rub our noses together before I offer my mouth to him. My husband kisses me back with equal fervor and he gently rolls me over so my back is upon the earth, cradling the back of my head in his hand. I wrap my legs around him, and he leans down, granting me another kiss.

"Yes," I whisper.

By the time we return to the car, it is sundown. The sky is a beautiful hue of azure and scarlet, as radiant as our passion for one another. I grab a handful of Francis's shirt and pull him into a long and passionate kiss. His arms come around me before he presses his forehead against mine. He combs my tresses back with his hand before brushing his lips against my forehead. Silently, he wraps an arm around my waist and guides me back to the car. I take his hand in mine and rest my head on his shoulder, and darkness takes me.

"Mary, wake up," Francis says, nudging me gently. "We're here." I open my eyes as the car pulls up in front of an incredibly luxurious hotel. Holy shit. "Welcome to Paris." We climb out of the car and make our way inside. In an instant, I feel as though I am transported back into the 15th century. I am reminded of the Louvre for a moment and I feel a pang of nostalgia. We check in quickly and are escorted to our rooms.

Francis closes the door behind us before he takes my face in his hands, kissing me deeply. I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. Piece by piece, we shed one another's clothing. We fall back into the bed and as Francis makes love to me, I know that I am home.

FIN.