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BlerBlerBler [chapter 7]: Yeah, they definitely needed reassurance on both sides. And here's the chapter!

elder441 [chapter 7]: He is ;) He doesn't want to start their marriage off on secrets and lies and that is good, especially as future reigning monarchs. He is definitely different than Henry and his two queens. As for Olivia, she won't mess with Frary but she does have her eyes on a former flame of hers.


"You look beautiful," Marie breathed out, circling her daughter who stood on a pedestal, surrounded by mirrors. "I chose well?"

Mary beamed. "You chose well," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "I was terrified."

"I know. It was the same for me," Marie replied. "Only, I hated my dress."

Mary chuckled softly and turned to admire her exposed back. It was only to the middle of her back, with pearl buttons leading down to the hips and the skirt in an A-Line shape. Her arms were adorned with flowered laced and small Swarovski diamonds. On top of her wavy raven locks was the Marie-Antoinette tiara, Henry very pleased to allow her to wear it on her special day. Whatever Marie of Clan Stuart wanted, she got. Attached to the tiara was a long veil that had been worn by her mother at her wedding to her father.

It was something old.

"Something borrowed," Marie said, coming to stand in front of her daughter and offer her the jewellery from the vaults. "And something blue."

Mary smiled. "Thank you. Can you help me put it on?"

"Of course," Marie said, tears clogging up her throat as she helped clasp the necklace around Mary's neck before helping her put the bracelet on and the ring on the middle finger on the right hand. Then she finally put the earrings on. "Obviously your dress is something new."

Mary chuckled softly. "Yes. It's stunning. Thank you."

Marie beamed, squeezing her daughter's hands. "Shall I call your bridesmaids inside before the First Look?"

"Please," Mary breathed out, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. It was a lovely pearl white. Pure would have been too much for her to bear. Perhaps she should confess before the wedding but something told her that she wouldn't be able to confess such a thing to a Roman Catholic man who was officiating her wedding to the future Roi des Français.

"Oh my God," Greer whispered when the three women entered in their own blue dresses. They wore long-sleeved, v-necked dresses in the shade of dark blue, like the blue on the French flag.

"Mary, you're stunningly beautiful!" Kenna told her.

Mary blushed. "More?"

"Gorgeous," Lola said, making them laugh.

"This is honestly a wish come true," Mary said. "My dream..."

Kenna beamed happily. "I am glad. Are you ready for the First Look? To get rid of any tears and nervous jitters."

Mary nodded. "I am. But Kenna, can we talk first?"

"Of course," Kenna said with a smile. "Ladies, I'll be right out."

Lola and Greer left and Kenna helped Mary get off the pedestal. The bride led her friend over to the chaise and they sat down, Mary taking a deep breath in before she released it and turned to Kenna.

"There's something I need to tell you about the book you found," Mary told her.

"What is it?" Kenna asked. "Is it to stop reading it? I promise I will after I find out who all those mysterious men are! I bet some are dead and she-"

"Bash is the best lover!" Mary quickly said, blushing furiously.

Kenna froze. "What?"

"Bash... He's the one who made-"

"I know, I heard you," Kenna replied, bowing her head. "I see."

"You had to know-"

"I did. I mean, I can't complain... I did sleep with his father," Kenna mumbled, looking down at her engagement ring. "I don't need to know about his past lovers or anything, but... I mean, he was the only one she gave full marks to. And he was hesitant to sleep with me since I told him about Henry and me. After he'd had this reputation."

Mary nodded. "I'm not too happy about it, either."

"Why? Is Francis on there?"

"He's the boyfriend."

"Oh my God," Kenna breathed out. "I'm so sorry. That is worse, I guess."

Mary shrugged. "I don't know. She's going to be at the wedding."

"Is it Olivia?" Kenna asked her.

"Yes. The one Margaret was talking about."

Kenna nodded, feeling the urge to throw up. "I better burn that book then."

"Don't use this against Bash-"

"As I said, I've slept with his father. We need to forget the past and think about our future," Kenna replied, taking Mary's hands. "Both of us. Including you and Francis. We're happy now, we're going to be family again."

Mary giggled. "Sisters-in-law and cousins? Jesus, I can't get enough of you."

Kenna smiled. "Same. Come on, let's do that First Look."

...

"I hear you," Francis said. "Can I turn around now?"

Mary giggled. "No," she said, walking up to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and inhaled his scent. "God, you smell amazing."

"So do you," he replied easily.

"I'm wearing over forty pounds of dress," she told him. "I hope to God our child weighs less inside me when we get pregnant."

Francis grinned. "I hope very soon. A beautiful daughter with my hair and your eyes."

"Or a handsome son with my hair and your eyes."

"Either way, I'd be the happiest man alive," Francis said. "Can I turn around now, love?"

Mary backed away and turned him around by his shoulders. "Voila."

Francis gasped, taking her in. He looked her up and down as tears sprung to his eyes and he held a fist to his mouth. "Mon Dieu."

"Francis?"

"Mon Dieu," he repeated, looking into her brown eyes. "You look so beautiful, Mary. I-I don't know what I did to deserve you, this, everything-"

Mary quickly hugged him tightly as he burst into sobs. It made her laugh. "I didn't know you'll get all emotional on me!"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm ruining my suit. It's bloody white and I'm being stupid." He pulled away, accepting a tissue from Marie. "Thank you, Duchess."

Marie smiled. "Your father was the same with me, Mary," she told her daughter. "Surprisingly, I held my tears in and he cried all day."

Mary laughed, cupping Francis's cheek and using her other hand to wipe his tears away. "I love you, you idiot."

"Oh, Mary," Francis replied in awe. "But if you're going to be a full French, it's 'imbécile'."

She smacked him. "We better dry your tears. The prayer session will start soon."

She backed away from him and watched as his eyes lovingly remained on her as the royal dressmakers adorned him with a gold and diamond-covered habit of the Order of the Holy Spirit.

Then Narcisse appeared and bowed low to the couple between them before linking his arms with them and walking them into the chapel followed by Henry and Francis's siblings, including Bash who was behind his father and Catherine who was behind Louis, the youngest with Marie beside her.

The prayer session was strictly private but the formal ceremony would be full of diplomats, celebrities and other people who were invited to see the nuptials, including close family friends from Scotland in the form of godparents and friendly aunts and uncles through friendship as opposed to marriage or blood. Not even their groomsmen or bridesmaids were allowed and Mary would leave through a secret door to meet them in another room as the chapel filled with eager spectators later on along with a select few of reporters with a live television feed across the world.

Narcisse led them to the Archbishop before he bowed low again and left their sides to go to the end of the chapel to wait.

They knelt before the altar on Prie-Dieus, where the Archbishop prayed over them, and the King and the Royal Family flanked them on their Prie-Dieus. The Archbishop revealed three rings. One thin gold band and another one which was slightly thicker. The last one was for Francis for the spectated ceremony.

When told to, Francis shakily placed the thin ring onto Mary's delicate ring finger, above her engagement ring. His eyes sparkled with tears and Mary reached out to wipe them away much to everyone's amusement. Even Elisabeth's who had her bluish-green hair hidden with a fancy party hat.

The Archbishop turned and collected the registers. He directed the couple to sign under their names: François Simon Léon & Marie Josephine Rebecca of Houses Valois-Angoulême, de Medici & Stuart and de Guise respectively.

After, the Archbishop said more prayers before using Holy Water to form the cross on the couple's foreheads. When he was done, he nodded and asked them to rise.

"My back was stiffening," Francis said lowly into Mary's ear, making her smile as her mother and Narcisse pulled her away to join their Bridal Party. More time for inside jokes later. She noted that Bash followed with the rest of the siblings.

"How was it?" Lola asked her once she stepped into the room.

Mary made a face. "Very relaxing. The Archibishop's voice was very calming and he blessed us, our marriage, our fertility and also we signed the registers and had one ring," she began, holding up her hand to show off her first new ring. "Put on before everything else. So, we're married formally but haven't kissed or shown everyone else yet."

"Congratulations," Greer said, squeezing her hand before giving her her bouquet of flowers. "Good luck, Marvellous Mary."

"Go on," Mary said, her voice wavering.

"Magnificent Mary," Lola said.

Mary turned to Kenna who tore her eyes off Bash to smile at her beloved friend. "And?"

"Majestic Mary."

"Is this some confidence boost for the pretty, little future princess?" Elisabeth sniped.

Mary chuckled, turning to her. "You are so lucky I am in a state of tranquillity on my wedding day. I do not have time for your pettiness nor jealousy. I am sure Mummy and Daddy can pay for your future wedding if you ask nicely. Wouldn't want the hard-working French taxpayers to fund a spiteful, spoilt princess like you. Although I will be queen one day, at least my Father had a role and paid for all of this even though he's dead."

Everyone gaped, even Marie.

"Then again, I am feeling very happy today so I hope you enjoy the day yourself," Mary told her. "And find a suitor while you are at it."

Elisabeth turned and walked away, stunned as Margaret grinned to herself. Mary caught that grin and sent the younger woman a quick wink before turning back to her friends.

"Confidence boost, commence."

...

After the ceremony was done and Mary and Francis tearfully got through their official vows and personal ones in French, the rest of the ceremony was in Latin before the Archbishop announced, "The Dauphin and Dauphine des Français."

Everyone applauded, standing up.

"Vous pouvez embrasser la mariée."

Francis didn't waste any time pressing his lips against Mary's. To them, it felt like forever but it was only a five-second kiss before the flushed couple, turned to everyone who applauded even louder.

Another prayer was said before the couple headed down the aisle behind their Bridal Party. When they stepped outside, Mary was surprised to see the number of people behind the gates, all screaming their names and cheering the newlyweds on.

She waved politely, beaming as Francis did the same. He turned to her and she blushed as their lips met for the public, rice being thrown onto them as Henry and Catherine joined them beside Francis and Marie and Christian joined Mary's other side.

When they pulled away, they waved again before a vintage white car pulled up and Narcisse got out, coming up to hand Francis the keys. "Bonne chance," he told the couple. "The Repas de Noces will be held at the Royal Opera House here you will be separated to get changed into new attire. Follow the horses and police."

Francis patted the man's back before opening the door for his new bride to get inside. He laughed with everyone when he struggled to get her train inside before letting it flow onto the backseats and getting into the car himself as his parents got into the Royal Carriage behind them.

It was quite the affair and before they reached the opening gates, Francis and Mary had a chance to speak.

"Oh, God," she muttered. "I have never felt so nervous in my life."

"Et moi," Francis breathed out. "My cheeks hurt. I am so happy."

She chuckled. "So am I."

Just as they reached the gates, a royal announcer said, "Présentation, le Duc et la Duchesse d'Anjou."

Mary waved happily as Francis used one hand to steer the wheel, his other hand waving to the public. He was used to this and he was surprised to see his new wife take it in her stride.

She reached out and collected a beautifully drawn picture from a child who burst into happy tears in her father's arms, the man very grateful for the attention his child got from the new French Princess. Mary blew kisses and put the picture into the compartment in front of her.

"Marie! Marie, over here!"

Mary beamed for the reporters and their camera people, hearing news reporters do their stories live from all the action. She made sure to catch most of their eyes to make them know that she acknowledged them. She thanked them before looking straight, her free hand taking Francis's free hand.

"J'adore."

"Your French is improving," her husband said lightly.

"You forget that I am half-French and do understand as opposed to speaking sometimes," she replied coyly.

Francis chuckled. "I apologise, Reine de la mienne."

"Stop, you'll make me blush and then cry and we'll have a sob story on our hands," Mary replied, giggling. "And yes, I am your queen."

...

There was no food in the first part of the reception. There was a two-hour musical performance from the best musicians in the world. Then an opera performance for thirty minutes before a fifteen-minute theatre play. Finally, a ball where the couple had their first dance for the day. Their Bridal Party joined in and Mary believed, at one point, the King asked the Queen for a dance but was politely declined privately before they remained as they were in their seats.

By half three, le vin d'honneur began and Mary and Francis were relieved to finally have a drink and check on their friends. They had later learned that their Bridal Party had snuck out for some flask drinks and cigarettes between the theatre play and ball dancing.

"Seriously?" Francis asked his brother and friends, amused.

"We'd been in there for almost three hours," Bash explained to the newlyweds. "I think we deserved a break considering we've not eaten all day."

"Here I thought military men and equestrians were strong," Mary said lightly.

Leith gasped. "Dauphine! I resent your insinuation, Ma'am."

"Do shut up," Greer told him. "Over-dramatic."

"He resents that," Remy spoke on his behalf, making them laugh. "It was beautiful, everything. I had tears in my eyes."

Julien held a hand to his mouth. "I've never been so proud of you, Valois."

"He's married, not dead, Varga," Bash told them. "Keep your tears."

"You cried."

"I did no such thing, Comte."

Lola nodded. "I saw you ask Remy for tissues as the four of you burst into sobs. Jesus, keep it together gentlemen. And we push out the babies."

Mary laughed. "Lola, behave. I do like an emotional man and so do you lot," she said, pointing at her girls. "Thank God this part is three hours long. And we have more after everything."

"Small mercies," they all said before downing their drinks and calling for more.

After the cocktail hours, came the food.

By then, everyone was hungry. It was seven on the dot and waiters lifted the covers off the dishes as everyone swooned and awed over the meals they had. It was each catered to every guest, vegan to pescatarian and vegetarian. Modern days, modern eating habits.

After dinner, Mary and Francis were presented with the traditional French wedding 'cake', the croquembouche. There was another ten-tier cake for the guests to have cut and eaten but this croquembouche was the main attraction at six-feet tall. It was just a pyramid of caramel-covered profiteroles.

Laughter was met during this as Mary and Francis more or less smashed their profiteroles onto the other's face. Francis closed his eyes, unable to contain his laughter as Mary got it all on his face.

They don't think that they had even tasted the poor thing but they did one properly and they both took a bite from the same profiterole before Mary smashed that onto the Dauphin's face as well.

"More!" Louis said, making his older brother gasp.

"More?" Mary asked their guests.

"More!" They said.

Francis shook his head but accepted the next smashed profiterole. "Great."

"At least we change again," Mary said brightly.

When the profiteroles were shared amongst the guests, the cake to be taken home for afters, a quick Sabrage performance was performed where the happy couple partook in drinking more alcohol. This time, champagne.

Then after getting dressed into another dress, a lighter one this time and a lighter suit, the guests and Royal Family were led outside to watch the fireworks display. The Father/Daughter Dance after was cancelled because there was no father for the bride.

Mary had considered one of her uncles but thought against it. So that meant that the Son/Mother Dance was cancelled as well as to not upset Mary on her special day. But the throwing of the bouquet was done and Kenna caught it without even moving. It just landed in her hands and she handed it to Lola instead, saying that the honour was nice but not for her. It confused Bash but she didn't say anything, merely watching Olivia converse with her family.

After the bouquet throw, it was time for the toasts.

And the night ended with Francis saying, "Mary and I have been destined to be with each other for our whole lives. Being with her is a dream come true and I know that one day, we will be the heart and soul of France. There is no one else but her and Mary? I will love you forever and I want to toast to you for choosing me." He raised his flute. "To Marie Josphine, the Dauphine of France."

"To Marie Josephine!"

...

"We really ought to sleep," Mary said when they entered the Queen's State Apartments early the next morning. "We leave for our honeymoon tour at eight. And it's two now."

Francis helped her take the jewellery off, putting them in its case. He took her ring hand and kissed her hand, admiring her newly made engagement rock replica as they had to return the real version.

"Shouldn't we consummate this?" He asked her, helping her out of her dress and putting it in a garment bag.

Mary waited until he turned around to fully take her in. "Oh, I intend to consummate this marriage. To the fullest."

Francis turned around and gasped. "Jesus," he muttered, his eyes darkening in lust as he looked her white lingerie up and down. "You're so beautiful."

"I am not beautiful every day?" She teased him.

"You know what I mean," he said, walking up to her and placing his hands on her hips. "You put all the other women to shame."

"Flatterer," she whispered before kissing him deeply, her arms wounding around his neck.

They pulled apart and Mary helped him take his trousers off as he worked on his shirt and bowtie. He almost tore the items of clothing off, desperate for his body to mould with hers.

"No one should be surprised when we come out with a baby in nine months," he said lightly, dropping his clothes onto the floor and cupping her cheeks to kiss her again.

"Be careful," she said against his lips. "Wouldn't want to jinx anything, darling."

"Not at all," he replied, kissing her chin, neck and collarbone. "I need you in that bed. Right now."

Mary giggled. "Aren't we lucky that the Archbishop blessed the bed before we came?"

"We are, indeed," he said softly before gasping and pulling away. "I forgot! I got you something."

"Francis?" Mary asked, blushing. "What is it?"

Francis blushed himself. "It's silly," he said, retrieving the item. "Take the box."

Mary smiled widely, opening it with a gasp.

...

Fifteen Years Ago

Mary shyly looked up, holding her hand up to the man who stood in front of her. She saw him smile, his hand connecting with hers softly as he placed a kiss on the back of it and stepped back, taking the hand of a small blonde boy.

"Francis, one day, you and this little girl will be married. That means that you will spend your life with her and she will be your queen," the man explained.

Francis looked up at his father. "What is her name?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Henry asked with a soft chuckle.

Francis nodded and turned to Mary. "What is your name?"

Mary smiled. "Mary. I am Marchioness Mary Josephine Rebecca Stuart. My father was Scottish and my mother," she said, looking up at her mother. "Is French, like you."

"Mary's uncle, Christian de Guise is on my council," Henry told his son. "And her father was a dear friend of mine. Along with the Duchess de Moray, her mother Marie de Guise."

Francis nodded. "Will I see her a lot?"

"Yes," her mother said. "And we will have contact between both of you. Under observation, of course. This marriage will be a good thing. For you both, for France and for relations with Scotland. Who knows what political issues will come up in the future?"

Francis nor Mary understood that but they turned to each other, smiles on their faces. Francis couldn't deny that she was pretty, her raven locks and brown eyes. He looked down at the pinned rose on his collar and he took it off, offering it to her.

"I will ask for that back one day," he told her, making their respective parent swoon.

"Thank you," Mary said softly. "I can't wait until that day."

...

Present Day

Mary brushed her thumb over the rose pin in her fingers with a bright smile. She hadn't even known she had been missing it. "How...?"

"When you came to visit the last time," he said. "I noticed that it was broken a bit so I had it fixed but then we didn't see each other until now-"

He was silenced with a kiss and Mary beamed happily.

"God, Francis... Thank you!"

"Now, can I have it back?" He asked, making them laugh. "No, you can keep it. We're married now, it's not like I won't have 'custody' of it or anything."

Mary hugged him tightly. "That is so sweet. I will wear it for our press photos as we go to our honeymoon tour," she told him proudly. "Thank you. Oh my God, I feel like sobbing now."

"Why?"

"I didn't get you anything."

"Don't be silly. You remembered this and that is enough-"

"That's a lie," she said, grinning. "I got you a locket." She went over to her dresser and returned with the silver locket. "Our baby pictures are in it. It's silly, I know."

Francis scoffed. "Not at all!" He told her, putting it on and opening it up to see his baby self and her baby self inside. "It's amazing, thanks. We should sleep."

"I catch your drift," Mary said, giggling when he lifted her into his arms and kissed her hard. "I love you."

"I love you too, Beautiful," Francis breathed out in awe before placing her down onto the bed and kissing her again. He trailed his kisses down to her stomach. "I hope we get lucky tonight."

Mary bit her lip and nodded. "I hope we do too, Handsome."

...

Kenna entered her room from her balcony and jumped when she saw Bash sitting on her bed. He gave her a look and she returned it, closing the doors and shivering when the cool hit her arms again after being in the warmth for a short while.

"You've been off with me."

Kenna frowned. "Have I?"

"Yes, mon chéri," Bash replied, getting up to meet her. "What is it, Kenna?" He asked her, brushing her hair from her face.

Kenna swallowed deeply. "I can't marry you," she whispered, shaking her head. "You were right. We're doing this too quickly and now that it is after the wedding... I've told my parents that I will be joining them in going to Scotland in the afternoon."

"What? Why?"

"Olivia," Kenna breathed out shakily before clearing her throat. "Olivia."

Bash frowned. "What has Francis's ex-girlfriend got to-"

"You slept with her," Kenna stated.

Bash laughed. "God, Kenna. You're no saint either, Comtessa," he told her, amused. "Yes, I did sleep with her, once. It was years ago and I was quite the womaniser if I do say so myself. But you knew that! Why do you think I was on that app in the first place?"

Kenna glared at him. "It isn't funny."

He stopped laughing and his smile disappeared. "What is this really about?"

She went over to her bedside table and retrieved a book. She turned and held it up and his eyes widened. "So, you recognise this book?"

"I do," he said honestly.

"Everyone but you got variable results. You were the only man to get ten out of ten," Kenna whispered, her eyes watering. "You were willing to make her... eight times, Bash. God..."

Bash sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"You say that shit a lot," Kenna told him, dumping the book on the bed and crossing her arms. "I am not hurt by that bullshit book nor that blonde bitch. I am hurt because when I was literally throwing myself at you, and you rejected me. Multiple times as well and out of nowhere, you propose to me and offer to save my back by sacrificing your own and... you do all this without feeling anything for me. You said it yourself, you don't really believe in love so I know, that this isn't real. On your part, at least."

"I meant what I said about love, Kenna," Bash replied indifferently. "I want something real, I really do and you're right. It doesn't need to be love but it has to be real and it has to be true. I'm sorry if you think that I am confusing, and that is true. I am confusing. But you're not my first serious relationship. Nor was Rowan. I've had longer relationships than what we have now and all they ended up in was heartbreak. Not for me, for them. Because I am so emotionally stunted, I couldn't give them what they wanted from our relationship."

Kenna wrung her hands. "What should we do then?"

"Get to know each other, as I said. Drag this engagement for as long as possible-"

"To the point when it's not even worth it anymore?"

"To the point when we're not accusing each other of being whores indirectly, Kenna," Bash snapped, pointing to the damned book.

Kenna nodded. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," he replied softly. "I didn't mean to snap at you-"

"I do love you, Bash," she cut him off. "I can't keep playing games or going around in circles when I know what is in my heart. You. It's insane, I know; how quickly I fell for you, but I did."

Bash sighed. "I understand that and-"

"You're never going to say those words to me," she whispered sadly. "Or otherwise, I'd hear them sixty or seventy years into our marriage, before you die or something."

Bash's eyes widened. "You see us in seventy years?"

"Yes, of course, I do!" Kenna cried out incredulously. "I've just told you that I love you. I love you and everything that stands for you. If I remember clearly, you pursued me not the other way around. You even told your friends that I had a tattoo of a purple rose on my bum cheek. Who does that? Talk about one night with a woman and with all the details involved?"

"Alright," Bash mumbled. "I guess I do want something more than phone sex and our first time with each other."

Kenna's eyes flickered onto him warily before they went on the ground. "I'm listening..."

"I don't want to wake up alone," Bash continued. "Or have my friends to be the only ones who come to my events. I want a wife, a partner for life. I want children, to tuck into bed and sing to as well as teach them what I know. And I want you. I want you to be through it all with me."

"Prove it."

He didn't make an effort to move.

"And we go around in circles again," she said, scoffing. "You always say words that hold no meaning-"

She yelped being pushed back onto the bed, his lips on hers before she knew it. She cupped his cheeks, feeling him unzip her bridesmaid dress as she kicked her heels off. Her hands found his shirt and she began undoing the buttons, almost ripping the material from his ripped chest when she was done.

He pulled away. "Just be patient, please," he begged her, tears springing to his eyes. "I want this. I want to try."

She wiped his tears that started to fall. "Why are you so guarded?"

"You know why," he said, strained. "I'm sorry about Olivia. In all honesty, that book was just a bit of fun to her. It never meant anything to me. Just one lonely Valentine's party I hosted in 2017 and I felt sick afterwards. I don't even know why because it wasn't as if I was a taken man. But I realised that I was just another one for the list, another one to be judged and gossiped about."

"It doesn't matter. She doesn't matter," Kenna told him, staring into his eyes. She removed her last item of clothing and kissed him hard. "Let me in."

Bash nodded, transfixed by her beauty. "I will let you in," he whispered, kissing her.

...

That morning, Mary and Francis arrived at the private airstrip. They had just come from Chateau de Fontainebleau to greet Henry and Catherine and bid them and everyone else 'goodbye' for now. A whole month to celebrate themselves, they deserved it.

The reception they received was positive and they waved at the crowds and smiled for the cameras. Michel and Fabian led the way to the bottom of the stairs of the jet.

Mary and Francis posed for more pictures, kissed once for the crowd and reporters, and headed up the stairs behind Michel as Fabian followed after. The second they sat down, seated before each other, they sighed in relief.

"My cheeks haven't stopped hurting since yesterday," Francis said, rubbing them as he stretched out his jaw.

Mary giggled, accepting a champagne flute from their royal aide-de-camp. "Thank you," she said to her before turning to her new husband. "Well, to happiness."

"To happiness," Francis replied, raising his own flute before clinking it with hers and drinking from it.

Mary's phone beeped and she placed her flute on the table and retrieved it from her purse. She opened up her WhatsApp chat and beamed happily, shaking her head in slight disbelief at the new message. It was a new phone, Francis having access to his own phone so they could contact whoever they needed to contact within means.

The first thing she had done was created a group chat and she gestured for her husband to check his own phone.

{Kenna: Bonjour les amis! Bash and I have just spoken to both Henry and Diane as well as my own parents, and we have set a date for the wedding. The public announcement will come the week before Francis and Mary return home to France.}

{Mary: Congratulations, both of you! Many blessings and love to you. We have just got onto the jet. It will leave soon for the UK.}

{Greer: Congrats, darlings! As Mary said, many blessings and love your way. And have a safe journey, M&F.}

{Leith: Most important thing - will it have a lot of alcohol like yesterday?}

{Julien: Indeed, need to know ASAP to see if it's worth coming to, haha. Even if I am a potential groomsman, I hope.}

{Bash: Why do you even ask? It's like you don't know me. And yes, gentlemen you will be my groomsmen, it does not need to be said.}

{Remy: Knew we could trust you, de Poitiers. Safe journey, Dauphin et Dauphine. Do not forget the souvenirs for your most loyal and devoted friends and number one fans.}

{Francis: Got our aide on it. And thank you for the journey wishes. Also, congratulations brother. It's an honour to be your first choice in best man, I hope.}

{Bash: Thank you, Francis, and yes, you are my first choice. And thank you to everyone else for your words.}

{Lola: Just woke up again. Still tired. Greer and I will be going back to Scotland today for the meantime until the week before M&F return. Missing our families so this is the perfect chance to go.}

{Mary: Safe journey, loves. Send them my love again, we didn't have long to greet each other yesterday with all the other guests and Henry introducing me to extended family. Oh, and if you can, help the Beatons by bringing Stirling along when you return to France. Merci beaucoup.}

{Greer: Will do, darling. Kenna and Bash, when is the special day if you don't mind letting us in?}

{Bash: 24th décembre. We have plans to spend Christmas at France, leave on Boxing Day to spend New Year's with the Beatons before we have four weeks off and return to royal duties by the first of February.}

{Kenna: We want it to be a private affair. Close family and friends only, less grandiose than yesterday was. Intimate and warm with a bohemian, homey theme. Mary, you and I will be looking at materials and inspiration at Grandes Boulevard with Greer and Lola.}

"Your Highnesses, the jet is about to leave," Michel said.

Mary nodded. "Thank you," she said as her husband nodded his reply.

{Mary: Definitely, lovely. Can't wait. Dauphin and I have to go. Love you all lots!}

{Francis: Wish us luck. Adieu and je vous aime tous.}

Everyone bid their farewells and sent their loves before they put their mobiles on airplane mode and continued to sip their drinks. They smiled at each other and turned to Michel who gave them the low down on where they were going and how long it would take. Their aide took over and explained what they would do as soon as they arrive as well as the charities and political places they would visit. Before coming, they had seen the Prime Minister at the chateau and he and his wife wished them well as well as other formalities. After, they met with the mayors and other people of politics in France. It was to ease Mary into her future role as Queen Consort and current role as Dauphine.

The first stop was Mary's home turf. The United Kingdom to meet the Prime Minister and Royal Family of England.

...

The week in England, and Scotland briefly, was tiring. Mary's feet hurt every single day and she couldn't wait to relax and spend the next week with her feet up before they had to attend Canada for other political reasons in the following week. As Canada had ties to France, Canada was an important stop. The French lost any claim to Canada in 1763 when it signed the Treaty of Paris but their Canadian cousins were still important and Mary was surprised to learn ahead that they had a huge fanbase in the country.

They had set up social media profiles. Mary and Francis had their separate ones and a joined one with links to the Chateau de Fontainebleau's official social media accounts. It was exciting, seeing their followers grow from hundreds to thousands to millions. It kept growing and they had gained followers in the British Royal Family following their visit.

"A week in Hawaii," Francis said when they were in the air on their jet. "That is my gift honeymoon to you."

Mary blushed. "Oh, babe," she cooed. "Thank you." It felt natural calling him that at times and their royal staff smiled knowingly whenever they had a tender, 'private' moment. Earlier, they waited in the airstrip in Scotland and everyone, including the pilot, left the jet to allow them some private time. It was for an hour, their employees falsely telling the public that there were issues with one of the engines and the couple had remained in the jet for protection with a 'third' bodyguard.

"We'll get there by six in the evening, their time," their aide said, glancing down at her tablet. "Your fanbase is still increasing."

"That's good," Mary said. "Considering they hated me."

"My mother hated you," Francis replied, taking the tablet. "Since she's stepped back, Monsieur Samuel Nostradamus has conveniently posted only positive stories about you and our friends."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"He's done a complete 360," their aide, Angelica, confirmed. "Shall I retrieve a background check on him?"

"If Michel doesn't mind," Francis told her, before waving the flight attendant over. "If you will serve us some tea, please."

"Would you like shortbread with your tea?"

"Please," Mary said, watching her go before turning back to Angelica. "And if you will also schedule an interview with him. I would like to understand why such stories were posted in the beginning and how he had such intimate photos. Catherine won't tell us her sources so we must investigate ourselves."

Angelica nodded. "Yes, Ma'am," she said, leaving the cabin to join the other employees.

Mary reached over and took Francis's hand, squeezing it. "You know Clarissa?" She asked.

Francis froze. "She's a friend of mine," he admitted. "She wasn't allowed to be but she found me crying one day when I was missing you and the long-distance was getting too much and she was there for me. She didn't know me, didn't treat me like I was a spoilt, little prince. She just sat down with me and made me smile, I guess. She's like an older sister since then. Always telling me what the girls are up to behind my back and we played football with the boys frequently."

If only you knew, Mary thought, smiling softly.

"What about her?"

"I met her," Mary said. "She seemed lovely and approving."

Francis grinned. "I think she's just relieved that I won't be sobbing on her shoulder because now, I have you again. I was planning on setting her up with someone but she seemed to be against it. I've tried to offer support groups and other help to her, but she's happy. My mother has her on the lower level of staff. She is above a maid, but she's never seen nor heard in the chateau."

"I see," Mary said, mentally cursing Catherine.

"It's because she was the daughter of some dead Navy admiral," Francis continued. "He and my mother were good friends so she helped by getting Clarissa a job."

"That's nice," Mary said. "I'd like to get to know her better."

"Really?"

"Of course," Mary replied. "And maybe invite her to hang out with the rest of us."

Francis sighed. "That's risky-"

"No, it is not. She's an important man's daughter and she seems like she could do with some friends. She's great and we will hang out in Bash and Kenna's new home. It's secluded so no cameras are able to get through and any drones will be shot on sight."

"Alright," Francis agreed. "I will ask her when we return."

"Good," Mary said with a bright smile as the flight attendant returned with their teas and shortbread. "The Dauphin and I need a few minutes to ourselves if you don't mind?"

The flight attendant shook her head. "Not at all," she replied. "Do call if you need my services."

When she left, Mary turned back to Francis. "I don't know about you, but earlier wasn't enough to sate my needs."

Francis chuckled. "Well, every round is one step closer to having a little you or me."

Mary blushed. "We'll have to be quiet," she told him, getting up.

"Can't promise anything, my love," Francis said, standing to bring her into his arms. "Either way, I want you to be very clear how much I satisfy you."

"Oh darling, I will be clear. Very clear," Mary whispered, kissing him as her arms wrapped around his neck.