Hello you all. It's been a while hasn't it? My school started again and I didn't had a lot of time writing this, plus I didn't had a idea how to write this chapter here. It probably didn't want to be written at all. But thanks to a lot of books I read the past months, I took some notes for this particular chapter and see here...I actually managed to write something. It's not that long though. However, this chapter is inspired by Stephen Kings novel 'Lisey's Story' and the description of the rain is inspired by Virginia Woolfs novel 'Mrs Dalloway'. Well I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and feel free to leave feedback and your thoughts on this one :)

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Reign' and I don't make profit out of this Story.

Chapter 8

For a moment, Catherine just looked around. She hadn't been in one of these situations in years and she felt oddly out of place, although she usually felt that way in most situations. The fact that she wasn't a French woman and that she didn't come from a royal household made the French people think less of her. She looked out of the window, It was raining. A fine rain, a gentle shower, was peppering the pavements and making them greasy. Where it fell on earth, on fields and gardens, it drew up the smell of earth. Here a drop poised on a grass-blade; there filled the cup of a wild flower, till the breeze stirred and the rain was spilt. Catherine decided to go to her desk again, she still felt a bit wiggly on her legs after reading the letter again and again.

She felt her skirts bunched up around her knees as she sits stiffly.

Some stuff in the letter was odd. Very odd. Maybe she just wasn't used to read such things. Well she never received such a letter in her whole life so it was something special even if some stuff was odd. Still Catherine couldn't stop the smile that found its way to her face. Henrys letter made her happy in a way but not in the way that she'd jump around and exclaim the good events to everyone loudly.

No, it made her feel like there was still a tiny bit of hope somewhere, a little tiny bit of hope. She still couldn't understand what exactly was happening and she read the letters several times again and again. She was so used to be the one who was left behind and believing that once in her life, happiness could come and stay was hard for her. The years of fight Catherine and Henry had been through left terrible scars on both of them, not visible for the human eye but inside them, every fight was another scar and over the years they did leave a lot of them on each other.

But reading Henrys letter to her had soothed some of that lingering and persistent ache that dwelled deep within her. It helped remind her that those fights and betrays might end. The whole afternoon, Catherine did her correspondences while her mind stayed fixated on that letter. She couldn't get herself - and she didn't want to- to stop thinking about it. Occasionally she also read the letter again because her mind just couldn't function anymore. It was a lot to process indeed and she needed her time for that.

Catherine slipped quietly into her bed chambers through the main door.

She locked it behind her, and the gentle click sounded loud in the quiet night. Her chambers are actually rather is cold at night, and Catherine shivered as she stepped inside, thinking only of the soft warm bed waiting for her. The rest of the day since she read the letters hadn't been that eventful. But there was one thing that did indeed made her feel rather astonished, it was when she had taken her dinner with her children - as she usually always does-

"Well my dearest tell me about your days." She said, looking at her children with that smile only they got to see. After all four looked at each other, Charles started first, " Father came to us today and we played with him the whole day! It was.."

"AMAZING" Little Henry finished Charles sentence.

All four of them looked at their mother and waited for her reaction, "that's wonderful to hear my darlings. I'm sure you spent a very wonderful day with your father." She said as normal as she could, after all she really didn't expect this to hear.

Margot wanted to say something too, but when she started Henry suddenly made an appearance, "I hope I'm not too late for dinner. I'm sorry I didn't come earlier." He said, smiling at his family.

This was certainly very odd, Catherine thought but said "You're not too late, we're actually waiting for the dinner to be bought to us." She really tried not to sound too odd but this whole situation was odd in general. The last time Henry ate with his family together was - when was it actually?- she couldn't remember. There were certainly one or two occasions where Henry ate with all of them but usually he didn't. After Henry greeted all of his children, he went to greet Catherine -at least that was what she thought he'd do- suddenly he pulled a rose from inside of his suit. Catherine had seen this sort of thing before, too, but a reckless hope that today she'll be the one who receives the rose rises in her against her will.

"For the loveliest lady in the room." Henry said. He scanned the room, his eyes flickering over the one lady this rose is supposed to go.

Catherines eyes flicker away, to the folded curtains - she certainly wasn't prepared to meet Henry's eyes, she didn't know how she would cope with it. But she felt it when Henry's eyes landed on her. They burned into her, and Catherine couldn't help herself. She turned her head, and their eyes met, and something fluttered in Catherine's stomach. It's a feeling she didn't quite understand, a nervous warmth that consumes her. Oh, Catherine thinks.

"Found you." Henry said. His eyes sparkle as he smiles for a moment, and Catherine's lips twitch as she tries not to smile back. Then Henry came right to her, gave her a peck on her cheek and reached back and gave the rose right to Catherine. "For you, darling."

Catherine took it, her hands slightly trembling. It smells fresh, like a garden, and like... like perfume.

"Keep it safe." Henry winked, and turned back to the take his seat and talk to his children.

She lighted a lamp with a match and turned to her bedchamber. When Catherine pulled on her nightgown, it was soft against her skin, and she sighed and savoured the peace and quiet of the room. She took the red rose from the pocket of her dress and placed it gently in a vase filled with water.

"I don't have a very fancy vase." Catherine smiles slightly, "So this will have to do, I'm afraid."

Catherine didn't feel tired - in fact, she was thrumming with energy and adrenaline, her heart still caught up in that damned dinner hall. Henry coming into the dinning hall with sparkling eyes flash behind her eyes, and Catherine shook her head to rid herself off of the sudden image.

"Whatever is the matter with me?" She murmured.

She climbed under her bedsheets, and pulled a book from her beside table. She read by the light of her burning lamp, and a line from the book caught her particular attention. Stuns her under the moonlight.

"For a few seconds they looked silently into each other's eyes, and the distant and impossible suddenly became near, possible, and inevitable."

Catherine swallowed and snapped the book shut. She does not, definitely does not, think of the Henry who had met her eyes at today's dinner, after she read this dammed letter. What I need, Catherine thought, is sleep. Tomorrow there will be her regular routine, and it will be a respite from this... from this new, restless, excited feeling inside of her. She closed her eyes tightly, and prayed that sleep will come to take her soon. That all memory of the rose will have faded in the morning, with all that's left her usual sensible nature.

But Catherine knew, in those hazy, distant moments before she fell asleep, that she can't risk falling for her husband again or did she already fall for him again?

An: And what do you think ? Who did you like the chapter and what do you think about Henry and the rose [I really hope it wasn't too cringe worthy :) ] anyway feel free to leave a review. I always love to read your thoughts :)