Quotes of the chapter:
"Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero." – Marc Brown.
"Cousins are Sisters you never had." – Reah Glowstorl.
Mary groaned, opening her eyes to find out that she was in bed. The lights were off, save for the standing lamp next to the armchairs by the fireplace where Francis sat, his knee nervously moving up and down.
She sat up and turned her lamp on. "Francis?"
Francis turned to her, getting up to sit on the bed by her legs. "How are you feeling?"
Mary shook her head. "How are they?"
"I don't know," he whispered sadly. "Dad's gone to Sweden. Uh, Diane was called - she was in Spain visiting her daughters. I was going to go but I didn't want to leave you alone."
"Has anyone called Kenna's parents?"
He nodded. "They're coming straight to France as we speak."
Mary covered her face, trying her best not to cry but she failed and she let out a whimper as Francis leant in to pull her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried, digging her face into the crook of his neck.
"Michel said they were in critical condition," Mary said. "We should go."
"We have to stay," Francis said gently. "My father is there, we have to remain in France."
Mary pulled back to look at him. "But why? He's your brother-"
"Half-brother," Francis said, strained. "People expect us to keep certain distances. As much as I want to see him for myself, I can't. We don't know how the accident happened, anything could be the case and it's for safety precautions."
"Otherwise our child will be king or queen," Mary mumbled, realising where he was getting at.
"Don't worry," Francis quickly said. "They're being flown over very soon and will be taken to the American Hospital of Paris. It's a private hospital and their care will be handled there."
Mary sniffled, wiping her tears. "How far away is it?"
"It's in Neuilly-sur-Seine. Just about thirty minutes from here."
She nodded, breathing shakily. "I just had a bad feeling but I ignored it. If I had known, I would have told someone to find her-"
"Don't do this to yourself," Francis said, taking her hands in his. "You'll do more damage than harm. No one could have known, not her or Bash or anyone."
"I thought I told you to let him know that he should stay away-"
"We both know my brother's a free spirit," Francis said carefully. "We don't know-"
"The security he asked for, maybe that's linked to today-"
"Mary, you need to rest."
Mary's face scrunched up and she started to cry again. "What if this was done on purpose? Kenna received death threats, Francis. The moment the article about her and your dad went out... nothing was the same."
Francis sighed. "I will look into it. My father will have no one but the best on the case. I know Bash, he's a careful driver. At one point, we both had this stupid dream to be F1 drivers. He's great with fast cars so I don't believe that he'd run himself off a cliff, even with a dodgy car."
"Will your father let us French take over or will he be respectful and let King Carl and his police handle it?"
"I hope there would be a mixture. The Swedes know their roads and our own police force has good men and women there who will do everything to find out what happened."
Mary nodded choppily, her breathing uneven as her sobs escaped from her lips. "What do we do?"
"We wait," Francis said, his voice breaking. "Oh, Mary..."
This time, Mary brought him to his chest and kissed his head as he let out a sob.
...
The morning after, Francis quietly entered his father's cabinet, hearing his phone conversation. He waited patiently as Henry spoke, his voice tired and shaky.
"...No, Cat. D-Don't come. Just stay where you are, they need you more than we do right now. The children are fine, they're arguing about who gets to see him first and... I know, Cat. I love you too, Catherine. Goodbye."
Henry hung up and placed his phone onto the table.
"Your mother," he stated.
Francis nodded, slightly surprised at the warmth his father used to talk to his mother. It wasn't as if their marriage was wonderful. "Is she safe?"
"She is," Henry said, sitting down and rubbing his face. "It's nothing to do with any of us but Bash or the Comtessa."
"You know what happened?"
Henry turned to his son. "I requested for Bash's team to install cameras and audio devices in every transportation or hotel apartment he rented. I don't know... I-I was paranoid, I had this dream and the next thing I know, I have a call from the King of Sweden himself, telling me that my son's in the hospital. Then Gautier called and confirmed it from Michel."
Francis sat down on the armchair before the desk. "Was it an accident?"
Henry shook his head. "I wish it was."
Francis's heart sank. "Who did it?"
"The camera didn't catch sight of the man. Only the number plate who ran them down," Henry replied. "Gautier is contacting his analysist contact on the force to find out who owns that plate."
"Mary's worried sick. She is refusing to eat breakfast until she knows how Kenna is."
Henry leant back in his seat. "I-I saw her. Bash was in the operating room but she was stable. Critical but stable."
"And?" Francis asked shakily. "No one's saying anything. We need to prepare ourselves, they're being transferred this afternoon."
Henry met his son's eyes. "Herniated disc, knee trauma, broken ribs... She lost a lot of blood. Maximus Elliot said they found Bash unconscious on the road and the Comtessa, the same in the car. Blood was everywhere. As she lost a lot of blood, her brain had a lack of oxygen for a while, she was not out of the woods." He took the photographs from the envelope on his desk and handed it to Francis. "They're investigation photos."
Francis felt sick as he studied each picture. "Fuck," he breathed out.
"Indeed. I just wonder how they survived that. That car is... it's a write-off. I paid the rental service your brother used off to buy a new car."
Francis placed the photos down and clenched his fists. "Whoever did this. Make them pay, Dad."
"I will," Henry whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I used to keep him restricted to Avon until he was five. Your brother loved the outside world, always ready for an adventure. Never was one to sit still and wait. He went to the action, he never waited for it to come to him."
"We can't wrap our children in cotton wool or bubble wrap, Dad," Francis told his father. "I know you and Mum were scared after I had meningitis but I could have lived a lot during the years you kept me here."
Henry warily eyed Francis. "You were our only son back then. The male-line rule still in place. Nothing could happen to our sweet cherub." He chuckled softly. "You had the chubbiest cheeks. You waddled a lot and it was funny watching Bash run after you. Whenever he had to leave, you'd climb into the back of the car and refuse to leave your bubba. For the longest of time, you were the only one he allowed to call him 'Bash'."
"Because I couldn't pronounce his name," Francis said, laughing a little before he sobered up. "If you didn't see him, that means that... he could die, right?"
"Don't think that," Henry said disparagingly. "This is your brother for God's sake. He had that broken knee when he started riding at eleven and he kept going. Didn't he win all of those golds at FEGA?"
Francis nodded. "I've got to get back to Versailles but you keep me updated on their case."
"I will. And make sure Mary eats. Just tell her that the Comtessa will be fine," Henry told him.
"Okay," Francis replied. "I'll let her know. Thank you."
"Stop by the hospital at three. I will make the announcement at four this evening."
Francis stood from his seat. "He will be alright, right Dad?"
Henry didn't meet his gaze as he muttered, "He has to be."
...
Mary got out of her bed and opened the door, letting her invader of thoughts inside. "What's wrong now, Lissie?" She asked, slightly snippily but Lissie didn't seem fazed. They were all on high alert following the news.
"I didn't go through with it."
Mary froze by the bed and turned to her. "Oh, thank God."
"What?"
"I couldn't bear thinking that I'd helped in getting rid of a baby," Mary whispered. "Especially after what's happened."
Lissie nodded, crossing her arms. "I'll let my parents know. Let them find a suitor and be done with it. We can just put it to premature birth or something."
"Yeah," Mary agreed softly. "You're telling them now?"
"Might as well steal some of Bash's thunder," Lissie said, her eyes red. "I can't believe it..."
Mary's eyes watered and she shrugged. "Neither can I."
"I mean, we weren't as close as we used to be as kids, but he was always there. No matter what, he'd have his door open when we got drunk or whatever and he wouldn't ask questions. Just let us stay over to clear our heads and leave before Mother and Father found out. We barely saw him anyway, but Avon was always open for us."
"No one can dispute the love you all feel for Bash."
"I'm sorry about your cousin."
Mary nodded. "Thank you."
"I also heard you weren't eating," Lissie said, not looking as glamorous as usual. Neither of them was, Mary hadn't even changed out of her pyjamas and it was nearing twelve. "We have to eat. Our babies would starve."
Mary went over to the desk and picked the landline up. "I'll have Mr Jones to bring us food to eat."
"Thank you."
"You won't regret it, you know?" Mary asked, quickly speaking to the chefs before hanging up. "Being a parent is wonderful. I already feel so much love for this baby. It's indescribable."
Lissie took a seat. "I hope you're right," she mumbled, placing a hand on her tummy. It was still flat but she felt something warm and it made her smile despite the pain.
...
Francis hated hospitals. He was in and out of them as a child, it even got to the point when he begged his parents to be treated at Fontainebleau so he didn't have to be disorientated all the time. The hospital was familiar, but he'd never gone through these halls before.
They seemed more clinical if that was possible. More scary, more uncomfortable, more susceptible that death would occur. He felt sick and he paused, leaning his back against the wall as he closed his eyes.
"Do you need a moment alone?" Michel asked, he and the doctor watching him cautiously.
Francis swallowed, shaking his head. "Just give me a minute."
"Oui, Your Highness," Michel said, he and the doctor turning away from him so he could have semi-privacy.
Francis crouched down and covered his face, the coldness of his wedding band on his cheek. He muttered a prayer quietly, bit his lip and removed the bad aura from his mind. Childhood fears were no joke.
Opening his eyes, he stood up and said, "I'm ready."
"What you may see will be shocking," the doctor explained as they continued on. "It is alarming for friends and family to see the patient in a state like this."
"Will he be aware?"
"So far the Duke has not shown signs of consciousness since he left Sweden and arrived in France," the doctor replied honestly. "Scans were performed in Sweden and it showed trauma in the brain. The pressure was relieved in surgery but we nor the doctors in Sweden do not know the severity of the damage and how long he was unconscious for. Taking these factors into consideration, we have concluded that he is comatose for the time being and we cannot possibly say when he will wake up. Comas usually last for less than two to four weeks but it depends on the patient and severity of their injuries. And the low lung capacity he also had was a factor as his respiration levels were low. In layman's terms, he suffered from a pneumothorax caused by a punctured lung resulted from a broken rib."
Francis slowly nodded, acting as if he understood all that was being said. "And that contributed to the brain damage?"
"Pneumothorax is a risk factor for brain injury because reduced oxygen saturation of the blood results in reduced oxygen transit to the brain."
Francis cursed. "Right, I understand. Thank you, Doctor Dupain. Do you know about the Comtessa's current state?"
Doctor Dupain shook his head. "I am not her doctor but her family are with her."
"Alright. Merci," Francis replied when they reached Bash's hospital room.
"I will wait outside, Your Highness," Michel said to him.
Francis gave him a grateful smile before entering the room, his smile leaving his face as he closed the door behind him. He walked closer to the bed, his eyes inspecting everything.
An arm suspended in a sling, bare chest wrapped in bandage dressing, his head also wrapped in bandage dressing, cuts on his brother's face and an oxygen tube connected to his mouth.
Francis froze.
...
Thirteen Years Ago
Francis opened the door and walked in as if he owned the place. He was small for his age but nobody was going to stop him, not when he saw his older brother laugh at him for walking such a particular way.
"What do you want, Francis?"
"Papa said you broke your leg."
"My knee, Francis," Bash corrected him, rolling his eyes. "You're not allowed at Avon."
Francis grinned. "I cried and cried until Mama got annoyed and let me come," he replied, jumping onto the bed which made Bash wince. "Désolé!"
"C'est bien," Bash muttered, making sure his leg was stabilised.
"Why aren't you at the hospital?" Francis asked, tilting his head.
Bash scowled. "The doctors kept prodding me. I didn't want to stay there anymore."
"So they allowed you to come home?"
"Yeah."
"I'm not allowed to come home when I go to the hospital," Francis said sadly. "I'm always sick."
Bash turned to him. "If you're sick all the time now, you'll be very healthy in the future. Don't worry about it."
Francis smiled. "I won't."
"Because I said so?"
"Because you never lie," Francis replied easily.
Bash laughed, his green eyes leaving his brother's blues. "How long have you got?"
"Ten minutes," Francis said with a sigh. "I wish it was longer, we barely ever see each other."
"I'm busy, Francis," Bash lied, not wanting to cause tension between Francis, their father and the Queen. "I have school, I have FEGA and my football. I also have my private studies, I'm learning Russian."
Francis gasped. "Russian?!"
"Yes," Bash said, nodding excitedly. "Maybe one day when I join the Army, I will be stationed in Russia. It snows there."
"I wish I could join the Army..."
"You really don't," Bash said. "Look at you, you wouldn't last."
"Hey!"
"I mean," Bash said, thinking about it. "You're going to be king. Ruling a country is far more important than being in the Army. You get to order people about and send them to the dungeons!"
Francis giggled. "Can I send Lissie to the dungeons?"
"If you want," Bash replied with a smirk. "She's annoying."
"Claude called her a female dog!"
Bash feigned a gasp. "She did not!"
"Lissie pulled her hair and they both got in trouble and sent to their rooms. It was funny," Francis said, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
A knock on the door and a voice saying that Francis had two minutes left distracted them. Francis sighed and moved further up the bed to snuggle into Bash's side.
"What if I don't want to be king?"
Bash kissed his head. "You can be anything you want."
"What about you?"
Bash smirked. "I have a few ideas."
Francis sighed wistfully. "Bubba?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think Mary is thinking about me?"
Bash grinned. "I think Mary can't stop thinking about you. She's pretty, isn't she?"
Francis nodded, blushing. "She said she liked me."
"Well, aren't you lucky you're marrying her?"
"What if things change after we get married? What if she stops liking me because I'm boring or something?"
Bash nudged Francis's shoulder and smiled. "Francis, you're more interesting than our whole family put together. I doubt Mary will find you boring when you marry her. Don't forget, you gave her that pin and if I remember correctly when she last came, she was wearing it."
"Yeah," Francis drawled out, beaming. "She's wonderful."
"I'm glad she is."
"You're pretty cool too. I told everyone that you were doing horseriding. They're jealous."
Bash chuckled. "Francis, we don't need people being envious of us. We have to be modest, give things back and don't take things for granted. We've been gifted with the way we're living, we don't need to rub it in people's faces. Not whilst some starve and don't have homes."
"You're right," Francis mumbled. "Maybe you'll be my Monsieur Narcisse."
Bash scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "Oh, no, petit frère. I have bigger dreams than that. Now, shoo."
Francis got hugged him tightly and Bash smiled when the blonde added a kiss on his forehead for good measure. "I love you, Bubba."
"Get out of here, before your mother loses her head," Bash said, nudging Francis's cheek with the back of his finger. "I love you too, Ranci."
"I hate that name."
"I hate Bash but here we are," Bash replied teasingly.
"It's not my fault your name is too darn long..." Francis muttered as he slid down the bed. "And compliqué. At least it's not Bastian. You hate that."
Bash gagged. "Even worse. If people would just stick to my given name, I would be satisfied but you've damned me to eternity with a nickname that I hate."
Francis grinned proudly. "You're welcome. Ciao!"
Bash threw a pillow at him and Francis squealed, ducking out the way as he made his way to the door, walking like as if he was a macho man.
"Missed me!"
"Did I?" Bash asked, whistling.
Francis gasped and yelped when Bash's dog, Kora, leapt at him, attacking his face with consistent licks. "Oh, no...!" Francis cried out. "Mama's going to kill me when she sees all the dog hair!"
"Good luck with that, Ranci," Bash replied. "Now, Kora, kick him out!"
...
Present Day
Kora died a few months later to dog cancer. She was a Shiba Inu and Francis was no stranger to the beautiful, golden dog. He did get told off when he returned home but it was worth it, putting a smile on his brother's face to keep his mind off his broken knee.
Francis ran his fingers through his curls and released a breath of air from his lips before going over to Bash's side and taking a seat on his right.
Tentatively, Francis placed his hand on Bash's and smiled a little. "Hey, Bubba." He snorted. "I've not called you that in a long time, right?"
He didn't know what he was expecting. Something to happen? For Bash to move and respond? Nothing happened though and Francis sighed, squeezing Bash's hand to get a response.
"I knew you were a deep sleeper but this is taking it to another level," Francis said lightly, his voice breaking. "Whoever did this will get what's coming to them. Karma's a bitch."
No reply.
Francis sighed and rested his forehead on the side of the bed, closing his eyes. He barely slept a wink. Not with Bash's condition being unknown and Mary's fainting. It was due to shock, the in-chateau doctor assured him. The baby was perfectly fine, Mary was healthy but hearing the news sent her body into shock and the reasonable thing it had to do was shut down, like a computer in overdrive.
There was a knock on the door before it opened and Lissie and Margo entered. They both took a seat on the other side and turned to Bash, disbelief and worry in their eyes.
Francis raised his head and looked at them. "He looks bad, I know."
"He'll pull through," Margo said shakily. "He's fine."
Lissie slowly nodded, not quite believing that. "Mary's eating. Mr Jones had us all eating."
"That's good," Francis replied as his own stomach grumbled.
"Go and get something to eat," Lissie said, not bothering to turn to him as she spoke. She heard it all right.
"No, I'm not leaving him-"
"Ranci."
Francis froze. "Don't call me that," he said, strained. It wasn't right, coming from her lips or anyone else's. Anyone's but his Bubba's.
Lissie scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You and him, it was always you and him. Your little inside jokes, his protectiveness over you. You could say 'jump' and he'd ask 'how high'?"
Francis shrugged. "Why did you stop loving him?"
"I never stopped," Lissie whispered. "I just didn't want to cause tension in an already unstable home. We all know who Dad loves and it's not our mother."
Margo clicked her tongue. "Let's not do this. Argue."
Lissie's eyes watered and she sighed. "I'm pregnant."
Margo gasped as Francis stared at her in shock.
"It was unexpected," she continued on. "I'm going to tell Mama and Papa. The sooner the better."
Francis sighed, shaking his head. "Why were you not careful?"
"I was," Lissie said. "I don't want to get into it."
"Who else knows?"
Lissie cringed. "Fabian. Mary. You two."
"That's why Mary asked me if you could stay," Francis whispered. "We'll discuss this later. I only want to focus on one ailing sibling at a time."
Margo stood up and paced the room. "Who would do this?"
"I don't know-"
"He doesn't have any enemies!" Margo cried out, flinging her arms. "He kept to himself, caused nobody any trouble. What the fuck?"
Francis smiled a little. "You never swear."
"Think I'm just a polite, little princess, hmm?" The brunette snapped.
Francis turned to her, his eyes warm. "Honestly, you couldn't hate someone if your life depended on it."
"Well," Margo said, crossing her arms. "I do hate someone. The person who did this." She gestured to Bash.
"Yet, you and Bash will be the first to forgive and forget."
Margo bit her lip and nodded shakily. "The world's better when it's not full of hate."
"You were always the better one, out of us girls," Lissie said quietly. "Should we pray?"
"When have we ever been so religious?" Margo asked lightly.
Lissie shrugged. "I hate pretending I believe in God but seeing this..." She placed a hand on Bash's casted arm. "I would believe if it meant he woke up."
Francis closed his eyes. "Our Father, who art in Heaven..." He began, his sisters closing their eyes.
...
"Drink?" Henry offered, watching as Diane warily eyed the decanter and glass.
Diane shook her head. "No."
"Why did you come here? Why not go straight to the hospital?" He asked, taking a seat on the armchair beside hers.
"I wasn't ready," she whispered. "I saw the photos of the..." She bowed her head. "How could they survive that? What am I going to see exactly? Will he ever be the same?"
Henry nodded. "I have the same questions."
"Who did it?"
"We'll have to wait until the number plate comes up with a match. And we'll ask them when they wake up."
Diane rubbed her forearms. "I spent two decades trying to protect him. All for what?"
"We can't blame ourselves," Henry told her. "Even Francis said we couldn't cotton wool them up."
Diane smiled. "Advice from a twenty-year-old?"
"Who is already showing signs of a good father," Henry replied with a sad smile. "Bash never wanted to be king, I saw that."
Diane nodded, shrugging a little. "I spent a long time resenting your children. But I couldn't deny how much love they had for my child. They didn't see the half-blood they shared, all they saw was him."
"If Francis was king as a boy, they would have been inseparable even more."
Diane laughed. "I knew every single time Francis came around to Avon. He'd demand Rita show him to Bash. Even when Bash wasn't there, he'd wait. His big Bubba."
"Diane-"
"We made him," Diane whispered, heartbroken. "Out of our love, no matter how shortlived. He was loved, he is loved."
"I try to keep a distance but I can't," Henry replied. "Catherine can't stop me from loving my son. I try to hate him, I try to push him away but my mind switches and I just want the baby I held in my arms before I let him go."
Diane smiled wryly. "He's a man, Henry."
"So, I can't change the past," Henry said, nodding. "He hates me."
"No. He never did," Diane said. "He's grateful. But sometimes you do annoy the shit out of us both. He gets his patience from my side, thankfully."
She got up, collecting her purse and she headed to the door. She closed her eyes and leant her head against the wood, taking a few moments to herself before she collected herself.
"I'm ready to see him."
"Wait," Henry said, getting up and walking over to her. "I-I'm making an announcement. I want you there as his mother."
"You're not my king," Diane whispered, turning to face him. "You never were."
Just as she was about to open the door, Henry pulled her back, spun her and kissed her.
...
Greer shifted on her seat, flicking aimlessly through the magazine. Nothing was going in, she just needed to give her hands something to do as Lola worked on a scarf of some kind. She used knitting as an outlet, seldom being called 'old' by her friends. Now, Greer didn't bother teasing her.
Mary entered the hospital room, handing them the tray of hot drinks before settling on the seat by Kenna's bed. "Where are her family?"
"We suggested that they go to Versailles to rest," Greer said. "They looked worn out. I told them we'd call if anything changes."
Mary nodded and sniffled, wiping her dried tears. "Uh, has the-the announcement began?"
Lola shook her head. "Ten minutes to."
"Alright," Mary said. "I doubt they'd go into detail but they obviously have to announce that an investigation is being performed."
"Do you know anything?" Greer asked her.
Mary shrugged, tutting. "Only that Bash requested for more security on New Year's Eve. I don't know if that's linked to this but... I was told that strange or bad shit happens to this family and if they're being targeted, my baby and I could be too."
"You're overreacting, Mary," Lola said gently. "Calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down," Mary cried out, rubbing her face in distress. "No one is telling us anything! I-I heard that they weren't even doing thirty miles per hour, how the fuck does that cause wreckage that big, it literally kills people?!"
Greer started to shake and she shrugged. "I-I don't know."
Lola placed a hand on Greer's knee and looked over at Mary. "I know you're worried-"
"Worried is the last thing I am," Mary said, her voice breaking. "I should have stopped her from going."
"You can't blame yourself-"
"I was worried and I didn't act on it and look!" Mary pointed at Kenna. "Look!"
Lola nodded. "I know. We could ask Michel, he'll tell us anything we want to know."
"I don't think he knows anything."
"But we could press him for answers," Greer said, wiping her tears. "Come on, Lola. Let's go and ask him, he's waiting outside Bash's room."
The women left and Marie entered straight after, coming over to bring her daughter into a hug.
"She'll be alright."
"Even if she wakes up, she'll probably never walk again," Mary croaked out.
Marie sighed. "At least they were able to save her leg and reinsert her slipped disc. She'll just have to go through physiotherapy and she'll be back to the Kenna we all know and adore. She's strong, she won't give up."
"Maman?"
"Hmm?"
"Just hold me, please."
"Always."
...
Diane fixed her hair and slipped her coat on, collecting her bag as Henry fixed the buttons on his shirt and tucked it in. She swallowed deeply, sighing heavily as she began to laugh scornfully.
"Don't speak a word of this," she said to him. "I'm with someone else."
Henry's face fell. "Of course," he said. "You don't even have to ask. I mean, I'm married."
Diane scoffed. "That's one way of putting it." She walked to the door and paused. "Don't follow me. In fact, do the announcement yourself. I'm going to the hospital for my son."
After she left, Henry nursed a glass of Scotch. He rolled his eyes when there was a knock on the door and Narcisse entered with the four people who were the high rankers on Bash's security team.
"You sent for them?" Narcisse asked, quickly bowing.
"Oui," Henry mumbled. "Leave us."
Narcisse bowed again and left, closing the door behind him.
Henry sighed, turning to the woman who led them. "Rita Luiz. My son hired you when he was ten. Smart for his age, he could read people. Twenty years in the Spanish Military Service, three years on the police force before you moved to France."
Rita nodded. "Your Majesty-"
"Maximus Elliot," Henry continued. "My son likes you. Not afraid to sneak a drink on the job, hmm?"
Max faltered. "I always limit myself to one drink when we're stationed at the clubs and bars he's in. He's very convincing, but I don't make it a habit."
"German," Henry continued. "My son met you when you were working as a police detective in Mallorca."
"Ja, Monsieur," Max whispered.
Henry clicked his tongue. "You impressed him and me."
"Ja-"
"Miranda Lake," Henry continued on. "English origin, former police detective, Elliot's partner in many ways."
"H-How-"
"We do background checks, Lake," Henry told her. "Married, two girls."
Lake and Maximus nodded.
"How lovely. And you both decided to work for my son, knowing the risks he could bring to your lives, to your children's lives?"
Miranda smiled. "Your son is like family. The ten years we've served him have made a bond so strong, we'd die for him. Even with our precious little girls."
"He's like a brother to us," Max added. "He treats us with respect and in turn, we're grateful for what he does for us."
Henry slowly nodded, his eyes landing on the last woman. "Ashley Law, English with West African origins. Fifteen years on the Met police."
"That's right, Your Majesty."
"Three women and one man capable of protecting one prince fail. Years and years of training, of experience and this," Henry began, slamming the photographs onto the desk. "Happens."
"With all due respect," Max began. "His Highness diverted our attention into finding who was stalking them."
"And that person found them and put them in hospital," Henry snapped.
Max bowed his head. "I see how that looks-"
"Are you working for this man?"
"What? No-"
"Perhaps you're working from the inside-"
"This man was targetting the Comtessa, Your Majesty!" Rita cried out. "Since Christmas."
Ashley nodded, handing him a manila envelope. "Evidence of threats and warnings and photographs to her, of her."
Henry carefully inspected each image and his heart sank. "I know who did this."
"Who?"
"You all wouldn't have the clearance for this case but years ago, one of my nephews was arrested multiple times for stalking, GBH and other horrible, horrible things," Henry muttered, looking at all the photographs. "He made three attempts on his former wife's life. He's obsessed with women, all types, all classes. I won't be surprised if he's killed some for rejecting him."
Lake took a step closer to the desk. "Your Majesty, tell us who it is and we'll put things right."
Henry shook his head. "A rejeté l'affaire."
"D-Dismissed from the case?" Rita asked, breathless.
"Two weeks, no pay," Henry said. "You return afterwards, train for a week and return to your post. Use these weeks off wisely."
"And what about the man who did this?" Max asked him.
Henry looked up at him. "Gautier and his people are on it." His gaze went back down. "As for the rest of your team, a week intensive training on a rotational basis as none of my son's properties are to be unguarded. I will have Gautier increase security at the hospital."
"Yes, Your Majesty," they said before bowing and leaving.
Henry cursed, slamming his hands onto the desk. "Mon Dieu..."
...
Mary watched the TV as Henry spoke about how it was a difficult day for France. He explained that during the Duke of Orléans's winter holiday in Sweden with his new wife, the Duchess of Orléans and Countess of Barton, they were involved in a car accident that left them both in critical condition. Mary studied Henry's face, saw how much older he looked as he uttered Narcisse's speech at the live news station, 'The FBC'. He didn't elaborate on the causation of the accident, just merely that an investigation was being carried out with members of the French police force travelling to Sweden to aid and get answers to report back to France. He then said that the King of Sweden and his family were sending their well wishes and prayers to France in their sad times and that they will not stop until they find out the events that happened.
The screen then cut to the King of Sweden speaking about the accident, apologising to the French Royal Family and sending his love and support to his beloved friend and distant relative, King Henry. He also stated that the French people were welcome to Sweden any time and they shouldn't be worried about incidents as these occurring where French people are targetted. He stressed that this wasn't a terrorist attack and calmed everyone that it was a solo act, an unfortunate one.
Mary sighed, ignoring the media coverage and turned to Kenna who seemed more like she was asleep rather than unconscious. She checked the time, it was past four, almost five. The media coverage was understandably delayed, the King in obvious distress at his son's condition.
Mary studied Kenna. She thought about all the times either one of them were in the hospital and refused to let the ailing one suffer by spending hours on end cheering them up. It was harder when Aylee died and Kenna seemed to avoid hospitals for a while but then Mary suffered from appendicitis a few weeks after Aylee's funeral and they were back into their routine of caring for one another.
Every hospital visit Mary had was documented by teddy bears, not only reports and signed forms. Teddies that had 'Mare-Bear' imprinted on them from Kenna. She had fifteen or so of those at home as every flu or cold or small fracture and broken bone, Marie had taken her daughter to the hospital to be treated for them. It was obsessive, but Mary knew her mother never wanted to lose her.
Kenna's visits were low key, sometimes for alcohol poisoning or other party things. Never drugs, Mary reminded herself. At one point, Kenna had a tattoo of the Cross done behind her ear following an ear infection. Her visits were marked by discreet tattoos and shopping sprees.
Mary got up and pressed a quick kiss on Kenna's forehead before leaving the room. She had been alone, her mother coercing Kenna's family to turn in for the day as they kept pretty late or early in the money and had barely looked after themselves since then. At least she was showing signs of waking up, of recovery.
"Dauphine."
Mary looked up and saw Louis, confusion in her eyes. "Comte, why are you here?"
Louis was holding a bunch of flowers. "My, uh, sister-in-law is here."
Mary narrowed her eyes. Antoine's ex-wife? "Right."
"Yes," he said. "Marcus and she were at home, painting the spare bedroom for their new arrival. She fell off the ladder and sprained her ankle and my brother was worried about her and the baby so..."
"I hope she and the baby are fine," Mary said softly.
"I hope you and yours are too," Louis replied before gesturing to the window of Kenna's room. "How's the Comtessa?"
Mary placed a smile on her face. A fake one. "She's going to be fine. Francis is with his brother right now and we're relieved."
"That's great!" Louis beamed. "Honestly, I was worried. Bash and I may have never seen eye-to-eye but I respect the man."
Mary crossed her arms. "You should get going. I don't want to miss Kenna waking up."
It was a lie, the doctor said he didn't know whether it would take a few hours or a few days for Kenna to wake up, but Mary was praying no matter what.
"Of course," Louis replied, holding up the flowers. "Corrine needs her flowers."
Mary chuckled wryly and mumbled a farewell as he left down the hall. She returned to the room just as Louis stopped and turned, retrieving his mobile phone from his pocket.
He dialled a number and took a shaky breath, waiting for the person to pick up. When they did, he hissed down the line, "You're so fucking lucky that they're going to be alright. What the fuck was going through your mind?"
Antoine scoffed. "She chose a man who dumped her at the altar over a man who showed her interest despite her whorish ways... Get off my phone, little brother."
"Where are you?"
"Nowhere."
The call was hung up and Louis cursed, throwing the flowers into a nearby bin before leaving.
Inside Kenna's room, Mary returned to her seat and continued to watch the news. Henry was now inside, expected to be travelling to the hospital any minute now and people waiting outside reported that the Archduchess of Avon had arrived. A live feed showed Diane stepping out of her chauffered Mercedes with giant sunglasses covering her eyes and a deep green fur hat and matching scarf. She elegantly positioned her handbag in front of her stomach and politely waved at the reporters and their cameras before being led into the hospital by some of the security guards.
"B-Bash?"
Mary froze, her eyes widening as she slowly turned to Kenna whose eyes were closed but her body was moving in distress.
"Kenna? Kenna, can you hear me?" She asked, standing up to get a better view of her cousin's face. "Try and not move so much, you have pins in your leg."
Kenna gasped, her eyes snapping open as she looked around in confusion, her chest rising up and down quickly. "Wh-Where am I?"
"Hospital, Kenna," Mary whispered, cupping her cheeks so Kenna's flushed face was fixed on her. "Look at me. You're safe. Calm down, I'm here."
Kenna's eyes were wide but she nodded and swallowed deeply before relaxing and leaning back on the bed. "Where's Bash?"
"He's with Francis, Kens," Mary said carefully. "What do you remember?"
Kenna paused before saying, "We were driving and the next thing I know, I'm screaming and it all goes silent. Oh my God, Mare..." Kenna breathed out before breaking into sobs.
Mary kissed her head, brushing Kenna's sweat-matted hair away from her eyes. "Alright, that's good, you did well. Just rest now, I'll fetch a doctor."
She didn't leave, opting to press the red emergency button instead. She returned to Kenna's side and continued to stroke her hair back, Kenna in slight shock and disbelief about what was going on. Mary made sure to not let her look down but always trained in her direction.
"You're going to be okay, I promise, Kens."
