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the girl with the silver arrow [chapter 22]: Thank you! I was looking for a comfortable balance. They do and we'll see more of their healing as the chapters go on. More Mary and Francis parenting moments coming up. Thanks so much!

Baby Matthias: Died Tuesday 30th June 2020. (Forgot to add it at the end of the last chapter.)

Quote of the chapter: "It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages." ― Friedrich Nietzsche.


The drive to the military base was quiet. Bash sat across from the couple, mostly on his phone as Angelica sat beside him, going through their rounds and other things of importance to busy herself.

Mary shared a glance with Francis who responded by taking her hand and squeezing it. She gave him a smile and he returned it before turning to Bash, using his foot to nudge his half-brother's knee gently to gain his attention.

"Oui?"

"You must be excited to see your old Army friends," Francis stated.

Bash shrugged a little. "Acquaintances," he corrected. "Although General Timothée Moitessier might be glad to see me. Said I reminded him of his son."

Francis smiled. "That's nice," he said. "Any plans this evening?"

Bash shook his head. "I have the house to myself. Kenna's sister-in-law came to steal her away for some shopping this morning."

"Join us for dinner," Mary said to him. "We can invite some Army officials to eat at the chateau-"

"Dieu, non," Bash muttered, putting his phone away as the car came to a near stop. "The last thing I want to do is squander away my quiet evening with my dog for a dinner where I'll have to grin and bear all the jokes at my expense. Why do you think Bayard and the twins rejected the invitation?"

Francis chuckled softly. "Very well," he replied, studying his brother who now eyed the opening gates to the barracks. "You look well."

Bash never turned away from the window, his eyebrow arching in response. "How did I look before?"

"I don't know, sad?"

"My son had just died-"

"I know," Francis quickly interjected. "But you're making an effort to come today and I thank you for that." He shared a brief glance with his wife. "We were also wondering if you and Kenna would like to join us for the second month of our tour."

Something flashed through Bash's eyes but it went as quick as it came before he replied with, "I will have to check with Kenna."

"That's perfectly fine. You have until next week, after Annie's first doctor's check-up to respond," Mary told him, a smile gracing her lips in relief. "It would be nice to see the world a little bit, see the countries we haven't stopped by in. Apparently, we're heading to South Korea. You speak Korean, don't you?"

"Vaguely," Bash muttered, undoing his seatbelt when the car stopped.

The door opened and Francis exited the vehicle first, Mary following and finally Bash as the car drove on with Angelica.

The men bowed at the trio and Bash got to reacquainting himself with the men before them, introducing them to Francis and Mary expertly, without stumbling over his words and with a certain flair of familiarity and comradeship.

"Prince Sébastien, it is always an honour to see you," Timothée said, shaking his hand firmly, ten times up and down.

"Likewise, Sir," Bash said politely, much to the man's distaste. "You called me a prince, I'll keep formalities."

Francis chuckled - Mary joining him in doing so - before he said, "Thank you for having us at your service."

"Of course, Your Majesties," The General replied happily. "Right this way."

He led the couple and their bodyguards, aides and other royal personnel to the staged event on the field. The weather was beautiful, Summer well and truly here. There were white seats and three were decorated at the very front, perfect for a King, his Queen and his Prince Brother.

Everyone rose from their seats, bowing at the couple and sharing salutes with Bash as the three walked down. When they sat down, everyone else did and Timothée took to the stage.

"Thank you all for attending this service," he began, shifting through his notes at the mic. "Today, we are joined by His Majesty the King, François III, his wife Queen Marie and of course, our fellow comrade and soldier, the Duke of Orléans, Prince Sébastien." He cleared his throat. "Over the past year, we have lost good men and women in service, their duty to France and their Kings undeniable. This 2019-2020 season alone, fourteen lives have perished and today we remember them and honour them and give their families the comfort of knowing that their beloved relatives helped make France a better country. Not only France but the world. Please, let us bow our heads in a one minute silence."

Everyone bowed their heads and Mary felt tingly inside, glad to be a part of something as wonderful like this. Seeing the men and women who fought for France physically and not through a screen or black and white paper. Unfortunately, she was only Consort so she'd have to smile and nod as Francis handed the families their deceased relatives' honours.

After a minute had passed, the General invited Francis, Mary and Bash to the stage. Bash would collect the honour and receive the relative first, shake the relative's hand, pass the honour to Francis who would shake the relative's hand as well and hand them the honour.

When they got to the last woman, a wife of the deceased Army Officer, she walked up to Bash and gave him a look of familiarity. "I am not sure you remember me," she said quietly, getting Francis's attention quickly.

Bash frowned a little. "Non désolé."

"Bernárd? Lucrecia Bernárd? The wife of-"

"Oh," Bash said. "I am sorry for your loss," he quickly said, shaking her hand gently and moving her along.

Afterwards, with the top three generals promising to join them for dinner that evening with their spouses, the trio left to go back to Fontainebleau. To Bash, it was uneventful but eventful at the same time.

"Who was Bernárd?" Francis asked his brother once they were on the motorway.

Bash sighed. "Some man who made my life somewhat unbearable when I first joined. He'd have me do the shittiest jobs and get annoyed when I never complained and complied. Once, we came back to France for strategy reasons and his wife visited. I overheard them talking about her being targeted for being his wife. They found me and well, I requested to help so they wouldn't believe I'd tell someone about their worries. The next day, I had Max transfer fifty-thousand euros to deal with the situation."

Mary gaped. "What on Earth? Why would you help someone who treated you horribly, knowing exactly who you were?"

Francis nodded. "Yes, why?"

"Because when people need help, I won't deny them that if I can help them," Bash said. "It's in my nature to save people." He cringed a little. "I also think there was more to it than people stalking her. She's a chemical scientist at one of the leading science companies in Paris. They were working on a nerve agent and well... I think I believed that the Military was backing them to use them."

"Were they?"

"The nerve agent was scrapped," Bash replied. "But the Bernárds were always shifty about the subject. It doesn't matter now, the government made sure to stop any moves towards anything damaging to and for the country."

Mary sighed in relief. "Thank God. The last thing we need is an outbreak that kills people and our Military to be involved."

"Indeed," Bash mumbled. "There's a lot that happens behind the scenes in France. You have to know the right people to find out exactly what."

"And do you?" Mary asked him. "Know the right people?"

Bash smirked, not turning to face them as he spoke, "I know more than the right people, Your Majesties. Some may consider me one of them."

"Just how much influence do you have?" Mary asked, eyes wide in surprise.

Francis chuckled, taking his wife's hand and kissing the back of it. "Bash's aliases have allowed him a sense of security and a chance to get some intel. It was risky but worth it. A lot of people trust him, considering they hated him for being illegitimate of none of his own fault. They project their hate at Diane and use him to get what they want at high prices."

"So, you're something out of a mafia movie," Mary said lightly, making them laugh. "Interesting. As Kenna would say-"

"I'll happily keep my secrets to the grave," Bash interjected, sending her a kind wink. "Speaking of my wife, I better go and check the damage she has made on our joint bank account now..." He retrieved his phone and proceeded to check his bank accounts.

"You're never going to win when shopping is involved," Mary told him.

"Well, today I have," Bash said to them, showing his phone screen to the couple. "Nothing was taken out. And they've been at it for five hours now."

"Perhaps, Kenna's grown up," Mary replied proudly.

"Or her sister-in-law must have been footing the bill," Francis suggested, making them laugh.

Bash shrugged. "I'll see when she comes home later. Either way, it's nice that she's getting out of the house more and being sociable."

"And you?" Francis asked.

"Oh, I have always hated people," Bash replied lightly. "Even right now, I have to stop myself from sticking needles in my eyes just from being in your company."

"How lovely!" Mary said, laughing.

Bash smiled softly, turning to stare out the window. "Thank you, though. For today."

"You're welcome, Bash," Francis replied.

...

"Duke Philip Aviz-Habsburg," Mary announced, turning to her in-laws. "I found out that he has a successful business in Spain. His family are old money who are investing in new ventures. He's also looking for a wife, he's nearing his thirties."

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "He is a good suitor for one of our nieces," she said with a pondering hum. "He's quite handsome. Shame our nieces don't hold candles to our daughters."

Mary laughed a little. "That's why I brought him up," she said to her and Henry. "Elisabeth."

"What about her?" Henry asked.

"The Duke has taken a liking to her," Mary told him. "A friend of a friend said he was planning to whisk her away to Valencia next weekend." She smiled. "Sun, Mediterranean sea, Football... Didn't Lissie say she supported Valencia FC?"

Catherine smirked. "I see."

"What's going on?" Francis asked, looking up from feeding Anaïs. "Since when did Lissie support a Football team?"

"Shows how much you know about your sister," Henry said lightly. "Very well, Your Majesty."

Mary blushed. "Please, don't-"

"If you believe the Duke of Valencia is a suitable match for Elisabeth, then Catherine and I do not object," Henry told her. "It is unfair of me to pass those duties onto you, finding matches for my children. Better you than me. You know who they prefer, what they are fond of in order to find the best match possible."

Catherine sipped her wine slowly. "I'll arrange a meeting between Philip and Elisabeth. See where that takes us."

"Great," Mary said, smiling brightly.

If she could help Elisabeth, she could help Claude.

...

"Alright, just put that strap there and..." Mary turned to Francis proudly, using a hand to brush his hair away from his face. "That's how to change a nappy."

Francis turned to her and grinned before looking down at their curious daughter. "It's taken me this long to do this?"

"You have been busy," Mary muttered, kissing his cheek and resting her forehead against his cheek as he played with Annie's hands which clasped around his thumbs.

"Her hands are so tiny!"

"They really are," Mary said with a giggle. "Parenthood suits you."

Francis smiled coyly. "Wait until you see me with a baby carrier."

"Oh my God, that would look so sexy," Mary told him. "A total DILF."

"Mary! Young ears are aware," Francis cried out, covering their little girl's ears. "Don't worry, baby girl. Your mama is just obsessed with me."

Mary scoffed. "In your dreams, Francis," she said, leaving his side. "Dress Anaïs for bed, please."

She headed to their bedroom where their daughter's Moses basket was beside their bed. The nursery was joined to the bedroom, having been a former private sitting room for the couple which they never really used in the first place.

Just as she was about to get in the bed, she was stopped by a knock on the door and she walked over and opened it.

"Charlie, what is it?"

Charles shifted nervously on his feet. "I've got a date tomorrow."

"Is that right?" Mary asked, gesturing for him to come inside and take a seat on the chaise with her.

"Yes," Charles said. "I've been building my relationship with Anabelle Trastámara, you know, my friend that I spoke to you about?"

Mary grinned. "The girl you've been flirting with?"

"Yes," Charles said, blushing. "She's from Spain, the Archduke of Aragon's daughter."

Mary gasped in surprise. "The Archduke's daughter attends your school?"

"She does. A lot of nobles from Europe do," Charles replied.

"So Archduke Maximillian and Archduchess Maria's daughter?" Mary asked, trying to rack her brain around the matter.

Charles nodded. "Elisabeth Anabelle? Goes by Anabelle because all the people we know have the same fucking name?"

Mary nodded, chuckling a little. "Okay, I know her face now. I've been quizzed on and introduced to so many people. The Austrian-Spaniards, am I correct?"

"Oui," Charles said. "Now that you know who she is, can you help me?"

"With what?" Francis asked, entering with Anaïs in his arms.

"My date, Francis!" Charles told him.

Francis smirked, placing Anaïs into Mary's arms. "Oh, tell us about her!"

Charles blushed furiously. "She's wonderful. Her eyes are brown, like chocolate. Her smile is like a million rainbows come together-"

"You're messing with us," Francis cut him off, laughing.

Charles nodded, grinning. "Anyway, she is great. I don't want to screw things up because..."

"You might have to find a suitor in the near future," Mary stated. "We see."

"And as King and Queen, I need your advice," Charles told them.

Francis smiled. "Be yourself. I know that it is clichéd but it's true. If it helps, Mary, Mother, Father and I can meet with her parents."

"I don't want to scare her off!" Charles cried out. "I'm the King's brother and if you invite her and her family over, I'll be sure to never be a consideration to her!"

"Urgh fine," Francis muttered. "Just go on the date and see where it goes. If she likes you, fine. If she doesn't, fine. Either way, you're only sixteen, you don't need to think about marriage or whatever. Or has Claude got to you?"

"Claude can go fu-"

"Do not swear in front of my almost two-month-old baby," Francis cut him off.

Charles smiled wryly. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said. "I better go. I want to get an outfit ready!"

"Remember," Mary began. "Be yourself, Charlie."

Charles headed to the door and nodded. "I will. Thanks," he said before leaving.

"Right, it's bedtime for all of us now!" Mary said, shifting on the bed to place Anaïs into the Moses basket.

"Goodnight, Beautiful," Francis said, kissing his wife and moving onto their daughter. "And goodnight, Princesse!"

...

Mary was awoken by the sound of Anaïs crying. Just as she was about to move, Francis stopped her, pressing a quick kiss on the top of her head before lifting the baby up into his arms and taking her to the nursery for some peace. It was just shy of three in the morning and he headed to the small kitchenette that was kindly inserted into the nursery.

As he took a milk bottle from the fridge, he went over and single-handedly filled the kettle with water and set it to boil before going to the rocking chair and taking a seat.

Anaïs's wide blue eyes looked up at him and an idea came to mind when he went back into the bedroom and retrieved his iPad from his bedside table before returning to the rocking chair in the nursery.

He went to the recording device and looked down at his precious daughter who stared back up at him, her cries now silenced. He began the recording, placing the iPad onto the table beside him.

"Anaïs, this is your father, Francis, speaking. As of now, Saturday the 8th August, you are still our firstborn child obviously and future Queen of France. You are loud, got a right pair of lungs in you as your mother, Mary, says. You are beautiful, your eyes as blue as mine. You wake us up at ungodly hours and we feel guilty if we cart you off to a nanny who is only doing her job and doesn't complain. You're looking up at me," he paused, a smile gracing his lips when she yawned, squinting her eyes shut as her mouth was wide open. "You've just yawned. You're curious and you're growing a lot. You're perfect and sweet and you've got light brown hair, verging on going blonde. I can't believe you're my daughter at times. I catch myself staring in disbelief that your mother and I made you, something pure and perfect - you."

He stood and placed her in the crib before going to prepare the bottle. When he was done, he checked the warmth and satisfied, retrieved his daughter and sat back down.

"I've just retrieved your bottle," he stated. "It's three in the morning, about seventeen minutes past. Your mother's tired, I've let her sleep so you and I could have some time together. I've been really busy, but I'll work on that, my darling." He put the bottle in her mouth and she immediately began to drink, her eyes still warily looking up at him as if she was contemplating hitting him for talking so much. "I'm feeding you now and you hate that I'm disturbing your peaceful meal with my talking. I'm sorry, gorgeous but that's me. Mr Talks-A-Lot. I get that from my mother. Don't tell her."

Anaïs began to choke on the liquid and he quickly removed the bottle, gently patting her back as she glared at him. At least that was what it looked like. When she was better, he kissed her forehead and tried the bottle again, but she rejected it with her mouth clamping shut and whines coming from her lips.

"Alright. That's enough for now," he said. "You're greedy but even you know your limits, darling. I love you so much Anaïs, God I'm even about to cry." His voice became choked up and he laughed when she stuck her tongue out a little, her barely-there brows furrowing. "You look so funny, baby girl. But you're just perfect."

The next morning, Mary found her husband fast asleep on the chair with their daughter asleep on his chest. A smile graced her face and she snapped a picture.

...

After Sunday Service had finished, Elisabeth was whisked to Valencia via the Duke's private jet. He had met her at his airstrip before taking her down to his estate, watching as her eyes calmly took everything in.

As they now sat in his conservatory with lemonade and cakes between them, Elisabeth turned to him and smiled softly.

"You're not so bad looking," she said.

Philip held a hand to his mock wounded heart. "I am glad I attract Her Highness's taste," he replied.

She playfully rolled her eyes and took a sip from her drink. "Marriage has never crossed my mind before my brothers got married."

"Same here," Philip replied. "I travelled all over the world five times over and settling down just got less and less attractive to me. But maybe I found that to be because I never found the one."

"You believe in that?" She asked dubiously.

"Your brother and his wife have found that," Philip stated. "Engaged even before birth."

"What a wonder," Elisabeth mumbled. "I'm not like my brother or brothers, plural. My heart does not open easily."

Philip nodded. "I can see that."

She turned to him. "I'm more rational. I do what I have to, to survive. Should I need to get married, then sure. Should I need to have children, then yes again. I weigh the pros and cons. The only keeper of my heart is God."

"What if I said I was Protestant?"

"Our children would be raised Catholic."

Philip chuckled. "Very well. Although I am Catholic. Just testing what you believed in. So, children?"

Elisabeth nodded, turning away from him. "We will have sex twice. To produce two heirs and that is it."

"You want lovers?"

"No."

"You want to be a Valois?"

Elisabeth nodded a little. "Being my father's daughter is all I have. I am the second child of nine. Well, third if you're referring to my father. My family's protection is all I need. I'm sorry that I can't offer more."

"Who hurt you?"

"Sorry?"

"Who hurt you, Elisabeth Valois?" Philip asked softly.

Elisabeth scoffed. "No one. I just do not believe in engaging in wifely duties if we are not in love more than I need to."

"Very well," Philip whispered. "So, we're in agreement?"

"A contract will need to be written. I will give you two children and we will divorce after ten years of marriage. By then, I'll be thirty and still able to remarry. No lovers on both parts, we have reputations."

Philip smirked a little. "Maybe, I'll change your mind in ten years."

"Your first wife, Maria Manuela left you after finding out she was barren. Your second wife, Mary Tudor-Aragon who is my sister-in-law's cousin, left you after she kept having miscarriages and couldn't cope with breaking your heart any longer," Elisabeth said, one leg over the other. "I doubt we'll last ten years but we'll see."

"You've already made an opinion of me based on my relationship history. I had those sealed, how did you..." He started to chuckle. "You have contacts, your half-brother is the contact. What else did he find out about me?"

"Parents died in a car accident when you were thirteen. Your majordomo raised you, tutored you, treated you like his own son," Elisabeth said. "Courteous and gracious, a good man with a good heart but terrible love life. You adore art. You know Latin, Spanish and Portuguese. Two younger sisters, Maria and Juana."

Philip offered her a cake and she declined. "Tell your brother that he is a good one, finding all of that for you. Some of those facts are unknown. So, Duchess de Berry, tell me about you."

Elisabeth smirked. "No. You'll just have to find out after we get married."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Very much so."