Replies to reviews:
Sav.129 [chapter 57]: Ooh, still some more tension to come!
Guest (1) [chapter 57]: She might or...
Guest (2) [chapter 57]: Doing such a thing is punishable ;)
Cosimo was a lean bit of a man, he'd taken to wearing his armour as he marched into the castle, flanked by men. His steely blue eyes met Francis's own blues as they walked to each other, meeting in the middle just before the throne hall.
Francis reached out a hand, everybody's breath held. "Cousin."
Cosimo glanced at the hand before taking it, firmly shaking it. "Your Majesty," he said.
"I received your letters," Francis told him. "You have got it wrong."
"Have I?" Cosimo snapped, retrieving his hand. "The Duke was found in his bed, trousers off, lipstick stains on his person."
"Perhaps heart failure," Francis suggested. "He was an indulgent man."
Cosimo chuckled wryly. "He was poisoned."
Francis mentally scolded his mother for not using something traceable. "I see."
"Lady Lola was said to be learning the arts of poison during her time in Italy," Cosimo continued. "Coincidence?"
"You were misinformed," Francis told him. "She was studying the art of botany. The Duke had suggested her to do so considering she would help in running their vineyards."
Cosimo narrowed his eyes. "Do not take me for a fool."
Francis really wished everyone would stop saying that. "You are no fool, Cousin," he replied. "If I'm honest..." He lowered his voice and leant closer to Cosimo. "Lady Lola wrote a few weeks ago to stress that the Duke was partaking in sexual favours between other women. She was planning to call the wedding off but he promised to stop. Look where it got him, killed by a woman of the night."
Cosimo faltered. "I see."
"Lady Lola was in love with him, she dedicated her time into being the best partner for him," Francis continued, slipping an arm around Cosimo's shoulders as he directed them to his offices. "She even had our shared son sent here so she could devote herself to Vincenzo. Now her heart is broken and will never be repaired. Her first husband, tragically killed in a fire. Her second one, killed by a prostitute... Luck is not on her side. She believes it will never happen for her, that she will live to be a spinster because God cannot allow her one chance at love."
Cosimo stopped and Francis turned to face him. "I apologise for having troubled you."
"It's quite alright," Francis said with a fake smile. Not that Cosimo could see through it. "She's inconsolable, heartbroken. He was the one for her and now, she can never step foot in Italy because we fear she will kill herself over her grief."
"Oh, do look after her," Cosimo said, alarmed.
"The Queen is there for her and so are other relatives," Francis assured him. "Please, stay for a while. Perhaps, you'd like to meet the children?"
Cosimo smiled. "I have my own to get back to. This was a flying visit - we still have an investigation to perform on finding the woman who did this."
"Of course," Francis replied. "You know what? My brother, he was King's Deputy. These days, he does other things but I will offer you his aid. We must bring this woman to justice."
Cosimo nodded gratefully. "We would appreciate the Archduke's help. He is the best in France."
"And Scotland," Francis added. "I will even send a few men for the cause."
"You're too kind."
"Anything for family," Francis said. "Including my son's mother."
Cosimo bowed for the first time that day. "Your Majesty, we accept your help."
...
"If you weren't a king," Kenna began, slowing sipping her wine as Mary glared at her husband and brother-in-law. "I'd say you should be an actor!"
Francis chuckled, taking a sip from his own goblet. "Mary, it's over."
"What if he finds out we're lying? What if he realises that there is no madam and comes back to France?" Mary asked, pacing the room.
"Just focus on Lola and how she portrays herself," Bash told her.
Mary turned to him. "How did you do it?"
"He chose death," Bash replied indifferently. "He had the choice to live or to die, either way, he knew he would forever be at Francis's mercy for striking John Philip."
Mary couldn't argue with that. "Was it... was it painful? Did you make him suffer?"
"Why do you want to know?" Francis asked.
"Because Lola's out of her wits! She may be protected now they know she didn't do it, but she still wonders because she loved him!" Mary cried out.
Kenna scoffed. "She loved his money and title, that's for sure," she mumbled, coming over to sit on Bash's lap. "Lola's fine."
"No... I know that!" Mary said with a sigh. "But don't you know what this means for her? She's back here and she wanted to avoid here at all costs because of me. Now, I've taken her son and he... prefers me over her. Vincenzo allowed her to not be referred to as Francis's mistress because he was powerful to have the gossip silenced."
"Oh," Francis replied. "That's sadly true."
Mary sighed. "What will we do with her? She's just aimlessly going through life and here we are happy and she's not."
"John still has his barony," Francis said. "She could live there in peace and we'll host parties so she can find another husband."
"She's a black widow," Mary stated. "No one will touch her now."
"I'm trying, Mary!"
"I know," Mary replied, sitting down. "We should let her stay for a month to get her bearings back and see what she wants."
Kenna placed her cup down. "Scotland's always an option or even England."
"I fear Scotland may be out of the question, her family are powerful and they still have her disowned," Mary replied. "England, it is."
"Or Sweden," Kenna continued. "Sweden's nice."
"Well, we'll see," Mary mumbled, getting up. "I will check on the children and Kenna?"
"Yes?" Kenna replied, taking her cup back and finishing her wine.
"Stop drinking."
Kenna grinned, pouring some more.
...
"Where are you going?"
Mary turned to face her husband. "My bedchamber."
"Mary, why?"
"I don't trust you, Francis," she mumbled.
Francis sighed. "And what about me? What about what happened five or six years ago? I'm sorry, Mary. It had to be done."
Mary swallowed hard. "And what if it backfalls on us all? Cosimo is powerful and I don't want to lose you or our children to rage over something as menial as this."
"My son being beaten to an inch of his life isn't menial, Mary," Francis stated angrily.
"I know," Mary said, cursing mentally. "I didn't mean... I just meant that we could have done things better, smarter, quieter."
"If someone beat Anne up black and blue and I wasn't there to protect her, what would you do?"
Mary gave him a look. "Rose was taken, remember? I was willing to give up my throne, my dignity for my child's safety. I just didn't want any blood spilt and it worked. If it meant being humiliated, I will lash my own back to protect our children."
"There's the difference between you and me," Francis said quietly. "I am not willing to be shown as weak. A good king never shows the hand he's dealt with. He gets rid of his enemies in secret. Then, he attacks. Once they see they've got to you by using the life you made against you, you've lost the battle and the whole damn war with it."
"I'm weak?" Mary asked, eyes wide in anger.
"You're manipulative," Francis told her. "You use your weakness as your strength. Our children. Anne, Rose, James, Joseph, Peter. They contribute to your actions. With John, a part of me is remorseful. That I couldn't be there for him as he grew up, that the only thing he'll remember me for is for having his abuser killed. He won't resent me any more than he does already."
Mary bowed her head. "Francis," she said softly. "If he had been a man of low ranking, of less power then I would have stood beside you but he wasn't. There is a price to pay when you lie to those who can destroy you easily. Cosimo has the whole of Italy under his control, he has the Pope, the Vatican! They will put you before God and say you acted unjustly."
"As long as no one finds out," Francis replied. "We're going to be fine. Now, please."
"What?"
"Stay?"
Mary slowly nodded. "I guess if anything happens, at least we'll have tonight."
"Mary..."
"I speak in jest," she snapped lightly before discarding of her robe and getting into their bed.
She flinched when he got into the bed and kissed her jawline. He sighed and returned to his side. Feeling guilty, she straddled his hips and kissed him hard, grinding into him a little.
"Never. Do. Something. As. Stupid. As. That. Again," she demanded in between kisses, her hands slipping down his undershorts.
Francis stared up at her, transfixed. "I won't," he promised, his voice strained. "I don't intend for our children to ever be harmed again."
Mary smiled softly and kissed him, her fingers lacing into his curls. "And next time, tell me. Don't lie or keep things from me."
"I won't," he promised again, his voice getting higher.
Another kiss. "And don't go having blood on your hands."
"I won't," he breathed out, his eyes darkening when she kissed his pressure point. His hands went to her hips, rubbing her skin through the material of her nightdress.
"If you do," she whispered into his ear. "I will kill you myself."
"I won't. I swear."
Mary bit his ear gently before pulling away and getting off of him. She smirked when she fixed herself up and noticed his evident arousal. "Excuse me, the boys requested a story."
Francis narrowed his eyes, covering himself up. "You did that on purpose."
"You need to be punished somehow," Mary told him nonchalantly as she got out of their bed and retrieved her robe from the floor. "If you want to ever have sex with me again, you will have to find Lola someone else."
"Why should I?" He whined, almost sounding like a child. "Everyone she marries either ends up dead, burnt alive or..."
"Murdered by you?"
"Again, I have no blood on my hands," he said, raising his hands in defence. "I will see what I can do."
Mary smiled in triumph. "Until she finds someone suitable, I am off-limits."
Francis cursed and threw one of their pillows at her. She ducked, giggling as she left the room. "You're evil, Mary!"
"Then, learn your lesson," she threw over her shoulder, turning to the guards. "Excuse His Majesty. He's disgruntled. I apologise for anything that may-"
Something hit the door and she jumped, shaking her head at the guards.
"Oh, he's not aiming at you, don't worry," she told them when they flinched in amusement. "Not that he can come out with how I left him. If he continues to act like a child, feel free to remove anything throwable from the room until I return."
She walked on, grinning to herself. What a manipulative woman she was, indeed.
