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Guest (1) [chapter 64]: More sweetness down below!

FeliLuna13 [chapter 64]: Indeed, Francis does seem a bit greedy but he will have his friends and family to keep him grounded! Spain vs Francis coming right up after this chapter!

Apologies for the delay. Writer's block. Exams. Uni stress overall. Now this global situation... I made a short story, was inspired by events close to the heart amongst others so I could write that during my block for this story. Basically, I have a lot of first chapters for Reign stories and most don't meet the cut or are being revised and decided against. I will still work on the ones I have out now, although short stories are helping me get through this difficult time in my personal life. It's hard, I find it hard to smile, but we have to be grateful that we're alive, and I hope you are all safe. Love you guys x Bex.


"Your Majesties," Leith called them, bowing low before stepping aside. "The Spanish Ambassador, Diego Mendoza."

Mendoza bowed low himself. "Your Majesties."

Francis turned to Mary a little and said, "So he sends his lapdog to do business."

"Forgive me, Your Majestad, but you sent yours," Mendoza said to them. "Your bastard half-brother."

Bash's eyes flashed, his hand going to the hilt of his sword but he didn't use it. "No, the King of Spain and Portugal came to me. Littered my lands with spies. Spies who could have done harm to my wife and children if I had not been aware of their presence."

"Bash," Francis called him. He turned his attention to Diego. "Why did he send you after seeing my brother? Why can't he come here himself, be a man? A king?"

"My King wishes to settle this matter quietly, just as with your sister's marriage dissolution," Diego explained. "He was... stressed with grief over his daughters' wellbeings. Isabel and Caterina are his pride and joy. Every day without them is breaking his heart."

Francis snorted, sharing a look with Mary. "Yet, we have reports of his subsequent marriage to Anna of Austria, his own niece, and talk of a male heir has arisen. Leave the girls be, with their beloved mother who has taken care of them since they drew their first breaths."

"Then we have no choice."

"Go ahead and break the conditions of the treaty he signed with my father," Francis told him, standing from his throne. "You fight, we fight back. And we have not lost any wars since my father's rule."

Diego bowed. "May I have a safe passage back to my party?"

"You may. You may also remain for a night to rest before you leave," Francis said. "We are being gracious, something your king lacks in."

"Majestad," Diego replied, bowing again before bowing to Mary and leaving.

Bash rolled his eyes. "If only I could strangle-"

"Bash, ease your temper," Francis said. "Your love for family will cloud your judgement and right now-"

"I am fine," Bash assured him. "But surrounding my family with spies, my young children and pregnant wife, is not acceptable. I doubt Philip is even indisposed. His acting is as good as a fish out of water."

Francis let out a strangled choke, trying to stop his laughter along with Mary who snorted at Bash's comment. "Even his ambassador is not all that confident, spewing false facts. How does Gustav fare?"

Bash turned to his brother. "My spy successfully infiltrated their camp. Talks of thirty-thousand soldiers and horses arose."

Francis raised his eyebrows, turning to Mary. "Then we leave tonight."

Mary sighed. "I knew it was coming."

"Mama, Papa!"

They turned to see Rose come in, tears in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"Olly's dead," Rose said.

Her parents shared a look before coming over to comfort their daughter.

"Dogs do die in old age, my sweetheart," Francis told her.

Rose shook her head. "Yesterday he was perfectly fine during Anne's and my morning walk. He was fed chocolate."

"Perhaps one of your brothers fed it to him by accident," Mary suggested. "I'm sure-"

"I saw the Spanish Ambassador's servant feed him something and he looked around before leaving. Then, I went to check on Olly and he was... he was gone."

Francis set his jaw. "Darling, we will hold a funeral for Olly the Dog. Right now, we need the room."

Rose nodded and left, leaving Francis to stand up straight and shake his head.

"Poisoning a pet dog," Francis scoffed. "Can they sink any lower?"

"I'll ready our men," Leith told him.

"And do not let anyone we are leaving earlier than expected," Francis said. "And keep eyes on the Ambassador and his party at all times."

Leith bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said before leaving.

"Was my displeasure justified?" Bash asked lightly, backing out of the room.

"Say your 'goodbyes'," Francis said, smiling. "And... yes."

...

"Do you really have to go?" Peter asked, pouting as he clutched at Francis's shirt.

"I do, my darling," Francis replied, kissing the top of his head. "But I will always keep your mother, you and your siblings close to my heart."

"How?" Joseph asked. "We won't be with you."

Francis chuckled. "You know how God is in us? The Holy Spirit?"

"Yes..." James drawled.

"Well, my family, all of you, are in my heart," Francis told the little boys. "And I will miss you so."

James and Joseph latched onto him as well, sending him back lying on the grass. He laughed and they giggled, his hands roaming through their different coloured hair, so soft, curly or straight. His darling boys.

He spotted John watching and gestured for him to come.

"Your brothers will miss you," he told the boy when John arrived.

"I will miss them too," John replied.

Francis looked down at the boys. "Wish your older brother well."

They pushed off him and attacked John with hugs, Peter even attempting to climb up the boy's back.

"One last piggyback ride!" Peter begged him.

John laughed. "If you really want!"

"We do! We do!" James and Joseph said as Rose and Anne walked over, flanking their mother.

In Mary's arms, a covered carcass was held.

"Boys, let's say our farewells to Olly the Dog," she said, the girls sniffling.

Francis smiled sadly. "Come on, we will bury him beside Sterling."

No one dared disturb the King, Queen and their children, leaving the family to say goodbye to a dog, a king and an illegitimate son.

...

"Mama?"

Kenna turned and smiled, reaching a hand out for Robin to take. She pulled him to her side and sighed wistfully.

"Why are you out here?" He asked her, looking around the balcony.

Kenna looked down at him. Soon, he'll be taller than her. Perhaps grow during the war and come back, towering over her.

"This balcony... I had my first conversation with your father here, we watched the stars," she said softly. "Well, our conversation was about his father and our relationship and we shared a bottle and I'd never in a thousand years imagined marrying a man as just and wonderful as him. Just under a year later, we both said 'I love you' for the first time, at this very balcony. We've not been here in a long time, at this balcony but it means so much."

"I am glad you found love in one another," Robin told her. "Otherwise I wouldn't exist with Ana and Xander."

"Oh, you'd probably exist," Kenna said. "Just as a courtesy. A man must have an heir."

"I love you, Mama," Robin said, his voice breaking.

Kenna's eyes watered. "I love you too, Robin. You are your father's greatest gift to me. I will pray for you, every day and I will count down the days until you both come home to me. If you don't, I will march down there myself and kill you both before I drag you back home."

Robin laughed, hugging her tightly. "I'm scared."

"Don't be," Kenna said firmly, running her fingers through his hair. "You are your father's son and he's never ever been scared in his life. You have the blood of many warriors before you, soldiers and just men. Be brave."

"I will," Robin promised her, feeling a new pair of arms wrap around them. "Is it time to leave, Papa?"

"Not just yet," Bash said, pressing a long kiss on the top of Kenna's head. "Your sister and brother are looking for you."

Robin nodded and left their embraces. "See you soon, Father."

"Make me proud, Robert," Bash replied. "Not that I never am."

Robin beamed and left, leaving his parents to hug tightly.

"Come home to me," Kenna said against his chest.

Bash chuckled. "Or what?"

"I will kill you myself," she threatened him lightly, looking up to kiss him deeply. "I am too-"

"Spirited to be a widow? God, I know," Bash said. "I can't imagine you wearing black."

Kenna sniffled, running her hands down his chest. "I never do. Want to wear black, I mean. I can't bear it, losing you and... raising our children alone. I won't do it, I won't live without you."

"Kenna-"

"I know... I know I'd feel it if anything happened to you," she whispered shakily. "My heart will... just like the first time. It will break. Irreparable. After this war, I beseech you that no more fighting. Those days will be over, for good."

Bash cupped her cheeks, her eyes lifting to stare into his. "I promise."

She let out a sob, holding him tightly. "Oh, God... Thank you."

...

"Your... portrait," Francis breathed out, staring down at the locket image. "Beautiful."

Mary blushed. "Something to wear close to your heart. Me."

"Mary, I don't know how to thank you-"

"That's not all," she said, handing him another locket.

Francis opened it up and saw that it opened six times. In the first five spots of the tiny locket, their five children's faces were staring back up at him with smiles, seated queenly and kingly. The last spot was empty.

"You will return home for that one," Mary told her husband, rubbing her bump.

"Oh, God, I will," Francis said, kissing her long and hard. "My Queen."

"My King," she responded in kind. "Everything I'd want."

"I love you, Mary," Francis said. "So much."

Mary sniffled, smiling happily. "I love you so much too." She looked out the window and saw Lola and John talking. "Take care of him. And Robert."

"I will," Francis said. "I'll bring them home."

She smiled, working on her laces. "You have an hour. So, let's make love before you go."

Francis grinned. "Something more to remember you by?"

She nodded, giggling. "Mhm," she hummed. "I might need your help undressing..."

"As my Queen commands."

...

Mary stood, watching as their King, King's Deputy and Archduke leave with armies trailing behind, two young boys beside them. She waved a little when Francis turned to look at her, but it was hard to tell as it was dark, the moon in the sky and the warm glow of torches leading away from the castle.

"Bring him home to me," Mary mouthed, looking up with teary eyes and her hands on her bump. "To France."

"Cousin?"

Mary turned to the Duke of Barton, the namesake of his father and the name her favourite nephew bore. "Yes?"

"You must rest. You've been on your feet all day," he said, his Scottish accent strong and true.

It was, although not always. There were times she was in bed, doing anything but sleeping. She smiled fondly at the idea and accepted Robert's arm, being led away from the marching men.

"How is your wife?" Mary asked as he helped her to her chambers.

"She is well," Robert said. "A lot of births in Scotland. A lot of girls named for you."

Mary was surprised. "Our people still...?"

"They understand," Robert explained. "James, he has managed to convince Protestants and Catholics alike to support your husband. I don't know how he did it, but I am impressed."

"My own half-brother," Mary mumbled. "I haven't seen him in so long. I doubt he knows the children."

"I tell him about them if that is no insult to Your Grace?"

"None at all."

"Very well," Robert said "He is proud. French-Scottish children are exactly what our countries need."

Mary sighed. "If only the French could see that. Our council is wrecked. I have to sort that business before Francis returns."

"I will be here to help," Robert told her, finally stopping before her doors and four guards. "Goodnight, Your Majesty." He bowed low and Mary nodded in reply, watching him leave.

Mary felt like a part of her heart had been ripped away and she looked down and saw her sons walk up to her, each with a teddy of choice tucked under their armpits. "My little cherubs. Why are you out of bed?"

"Can we sleep in your bed, Your Majesty?" James asked sweetly.

Mary sighed. She would be all alone, the memory and scent of her husband left to comfort her. "Very well, children. We must not make a habit of this."

But after the fifteenth day, she didn't bother to send them away, the guards now just letting three little princes enter her shared bedchambers and laying claim to their parents' grand bed.

By the twentieth day, their older sisters had joined and Mary smiled, surrounded by her five (six if you count her unborn child) children before she fell asleep, dreams of a blonde king running towards her, eyes sharp blue and lips joyous and happy.