Warning, I finished this late as fuck because I was too busy binge-watching Netflix before university haha. So, there may be mistakes, missed stuff but I'll re-read through it soon.

Oh shit, we've got drama.

Quote of the chapter: "May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house." ― George Carlin.


On his birthday, the 19th of February, Francis received a box. Well, he didn't receive it, Bash's Avon home did and the security guards figured that it was a pre-ordered gift.

But they were wrong.

Francis opened it and set his jaw when he saw a black and white image of Bash in hospital. He began to shake, launching the box it came in at the wall, just in time for Mary to flinch and duck as she entered his cabinet.

"Francis?" She asked, eyes wide.

Francis cursed, coming over to cup her cheeks and kiss her. "I'm sorry. That wasn't aimed at you."

"I get that you're upset but-"

"It's not that. Well, it is," Francis said, heading back to the picture and showing it to her. "He's been in his room."

Mary's body ran cold and she studied the picture for herself. "H-How?"

Francis shrugged. "I don't know!" He cried out, running his hands through his hair. "Just when I was going to relax and not think about anything but us today..."

"Where did you get this?"

"Avon. The security guards believed Bash pre-ordered something for me so had it sent straight here," Francis explained. "Don't let my dad know about that part. They're in enough shit as it is and they've got kids to think about. Losing their jobs is not an option."

Mary nodded slowly. "I won't tell him. How will we tell him we found it?"

"We could just say that it was left in Bash's room," Francis said. "I'm going there now."

"Francis, please-"

"Mary, I have to see if he's okay-"

"Michel's there, Gautier's there, even my uncles are there! He's protected-"

"But someone got through," Francis cried out to her. "A nurse, a doctor, someone got through and took this picture!" He covered his mouth as tears sprung to his eyes. "They could have finished the job, Mary. There's one thing about Antoine Bourbon, he never leaves things finished. He keeps going until there's an end and he comes out on top."

Mary sat down, defeated. "Every day, it's the same thing-"

"You would do the same for James, Mary!" Francis told her. "And Kenna, you did for her!"

"But I need you. Your little siblings need you!"

"They've got the girls," he mumbled, covering his face.

"You mean Lissie who is too far up her own arse, acting all high and mighty when she's going to pop a baby out in seven months at twenty? Or Margo who is already wearing black as if he's gone and never coming back? Or even Claude who's out partying every night to drink away the pain? I can't cover for all of you Francis! I didn't sign up to be the Valois family's therapist," Mary snapped.

Francis turned to her. "Alright."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked impatiently. "What's 'alright'? There's nothing alright about this!"

"You're right," Francis whispered. "I have been too fixated in making Bash better, I forgot that I had to comfort you. And our baby... You're five months pregnant with your first child and you're parenting all of us better than our actual parents. I've taken your shoulder to cry on for granted and I apologise. I just never thought I'd be in this position."

Mary stood up and placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eye. "We will all get through this. One step at a time. Today, let's just spend time with the others and then this night... if you really must, you can go and be with Bash. Let him know that you're fine."

Just as Francis was about to kiss her, his phone rang and he was confused to see that it was Diane calling. He quickly answered it.

"What is it? Is Bash al-"

"I need you to convince your father to turn off my son's life support," Diane whispered.

Francis almost choked, Mary quickly helping him to sit down. "What?"

"Francis, darling... It's a lost cause-"

"But he's getting better-"

"No, Francis. We just heard what we wanted to hear," Diane said, strained. "It's been over four weeks, it's time to let him go."

Francis looked over at Mary in disbelief. "Diane, look, not today. Not now, not ever."

"Don't hang up," Diane quickly said. "Just think about it."

"Are you going to even bother telling Kenna?" He demanded. "Or will you let her find out that her husband's life support was turned off on the TV?"

Diane sighed. "I did call her."

"And?"

"She was hysterical. Had to be put to sleep."

"And there's my point," Francis replied. "Look, I have to go but please, please, please, for the love of God, don't make any decisions yet. I have things in the works, articles, studies, multiple opinions... Just let me go through that and see where it takes us."

"How long?"

"A week or two."

Diane tutted. "Fine. I just want to put an end to his suffering."

"What if he isn't suffering at all? He's just asleep and he'll wake up when he's ready," Francis told her. "I have to go. Goodbye, Diane."

"Hmm," Diane hummed, hanging up.

Francis threw his phone onto the coffee table and leaned back in his seat. "Can you believe that?"

Mary shrugged. "I don't know what to make of it. On one hand, sure but on the other, people say they wait years until someone wakes up. There's still hope and that is why we should celebrate your birthday despite that." She turned the TV on. "Look, the news segment is dedicating something to you! Happy 21st, Francis."

Francis smiled a little. "What did you get me?"

"Something better than a photograph of your unconscious brother," Mary muttered. "We'll take this to Gautier and then, I'll treat you with your siblings."

"You're so good to me."

"I have to be," Mary said. "Because you're my baby daddy."

"Don't say that!" He laughed, snorting. "Oh, God... I've always hated those phrases."

"Too formal," she teased him, pressing a kiss on his jaw. "Before we do anything, want to get into your birthday suit for me?"

Francis raised his eyebrows. "And here I was thinking, it was my birthday."

...

Francis had a quiet birthday. He laid on the sectional on Emone's lap with LouLou in his arms, Hattie laying on her side on the other part of the sectional and Emone playing with his blonde curls. Mary snapped a picture for the memories, thinking how fatherly he looked. Perhaps having more than two children was an option for them.

Lissie sat on her own seat, scrolling through her iPad as Margo watched the animated film with the rest of them. Even Claude had appeared, hungover but willing to watch one movie with the siblings before disappearing back to sleep.

"Francis..." Louis drawled in his sweet voice.

"Hmm?"

"Will Bash be okay?"

His siblings turned to him and Lissie's eyes warned him not to say anything out of turn but to be realistic. Mary sighed from her seat and continued to text her friends, deciding not to be too involved. She wasn't going to be forced to choose sides.

"Bash just needs a lot of rest," Francis finally said.

"We haven't seen him," Emone said, looking down at him.

Hattie nodded. "Papa said we weren't allowed. Why?"

"Oh, Bash wouldn't want you to see him like that. He's not his usual good-looking self, I mean I look better than him right now!" Francis replied lightly, making them giggle as he started to tickle Louis. "Who wants ice cream?"

"I do!" The kids cried out.

Charles rolled his eyes and laid back down on the carpet, Henri joining him as they talked about something quietly.

"No ice cream for you boys?" Francis asked, lifting Louis onto his hip and taking Hattie's hand as Emone took her other hand.

"Ice cream won't bring Bash back," Charles snapped.

Francis sighed. "Here I thought that my little siblings were going to give me a birthday to remember. How right I was but for the opposite reason."

He left with the younger three and Margo got up from her seat to sit between the boys. "Today is about one brother only. Focus on him and you can be as mad and as upset as you want tomorrow."

Henri nodded. "Sorry."

"It's not me you should be saying that to," Margo said gently. "I know we all are hurting and it's hard not being allowed to see him-"

"Father allowed you, Lissie and Claude," Charles cut her off.

"Yes, but that is because we won't burst into tears the minute we see him," Claude said, shrugging. "Anyway, he'll be well enough to come home so stop your whining."

"Claude!" Mary cried out, becoming involved. Shit, she thought. "Charles, Henri, I can't make any promises but I will speak to your father."

"Would you?" Henri asked. "Thank you."

"Yes," Charles mumbled. "Thank you."

Mary nodded, returning her attention to her phone. "Margaret, your tutoring starts in two hours, have you done your homework for it?"

"No..."

"Go and do it now," Mary said, turning to Lissie. "Elisabeth, go and tell Mr Jones to make the children fish fingers and mash. They enjoy that now and since it's Francis's birthday, they deserve some joy in this place."

Lissie nodded, getting up. "I will, Your Highness."

Mary rolled her eyes, watching her leave. "And Claude?"

"What?" Claude snapped.

"I see that water bottle. Give it here."

Claude narrowed her eyes but threw it at Mary who caught it easily. "How did you-"

"Call it mother's intuition," Mary told her, sniffing the bottle to confirm her suspicions. "Now go and play football with Charlie and Henri. Get some air and sober up."

Claude stood, pulling Charles up by the cuff. "Who died and made you mum?" She asked Mary.

"Considering your mother is too busy with her duties to parent you as your father mopes about Fontainebleau, yes someone died and made me mum," Mary said. "But not for long because this won't last. And no one will die."

Henri gave her a smile. "I think our lives are better with you in it. You've parented us more than our actual parents have as a whole."

Mary blushed but kept her head high. "Well, practice makes perfect," she replied, cradling her bump with a smile.

...

Francis opened his eyes and dropped his hands. He looked over at Bash and studied him, wondering who was coming to clean up his face, shave his stubble and whatever else they did to care for comatose people. Could that person have snuck the box in then?

"What a birthday," he said. "We watched Shrek for the billionth time. I didn't want the kids to complain so I had to submit. Just the once because after, I got them to watch Despicable Me. Don't tell anyone but I love animated films."

He stood up and went over to the TV, turning it on and flicking through the channels.

"Crime drama? Out of taste," he mumbled, throwing words over his shoulder as if Bash was actively participating in giving him options. "News is overplayed. Quiz shows...? Seems interesting enough." He sighed. "News, it is. But I should warn you, they don't talk about anything other than you, Mr Popular."

He placed the remote down and rubbed his face, going back to the bed.

"Do you know anyone who came inside with a camera?" Francis asked, placing his hands, palm down, on the bed. "A nurse, doctor? Move a finger or flutter your eyes... Anything, Sebastian."

But nothing.

"If you don't move, then I'll..." What, he thought. What would you do, Francis?

Francis chuckled wryly, placing his hands on his cheeks in resignment. Maybe Diane was right. All these opinions and they all said the same thing - time or give up trying. Francis wanted to wait but everyone, even his father deep down wanted to give up.

"Fine," Francis whispered softly, taking a seat and Bash's hand. "You win. Everyone wins."

Wins what exactly? Death? Suffering? Pain? Grief?

"I give you permission to give up or whatever you want to do," he said, his voice breaking. "But if you want to hold on, just give me a sign."

Nothing.

"I'll let you go?" He tried.

Nothing.

Francis stood back up and walked over to the TV, increasing the volume so he didn't have to hear the constant whirring or whatever noise the stupid life support machine was making. It was uncomfortable and eery and it imprinted itself into his head. He could hear it when he was asleep. When he was watching the movie. When he was in the car, travelling to and fro, all the damn time.

He returned to his seat and closed his eyes, one hand on Bash's hand and the other covering his eyes. He began to mumble a prayer, not really knowing what he was praying for that he hadn't already earlier.

Time passed and by the time he opened his eyes, he realised he fell asleep. It was nearing eleven and he rested his head against the bed. Might as well fall asleep. Mary would understand if he remained the night.

Just as he was about to fall deep into sleep again, he felt a twitch.

Eyes snapping open, he turned to Bash to see if it was true.

But nothing happened and Francis put it down to his tired mind playing tricks on him.

He bowed his head again and closed his eyes, the TV still droning on in the background.

But it happened again.

And again, nothing for a while.

Francis stood up and an idea came to his mind. He opened up the hospital drawer and retrieved a bottle of perfume. Kenna's. Mary had given it to him earlier, explaining that she read that familiar scents or feels could help a comatose person awaken.

Francis sprayed the perfume into the air, sweet, fruity scent filling their surroundings like a vine wrapping around its victim. His eyes cast down to Bash whose eyes began to move rapidly under his eyelids as if he was searching for something.

"Bash?" Francis tried, placing the bottle down and taking his hand. "Bash, it's me."

Bash shifted, his eyes fluttering open and landing on Francis. "Oh, it's you..." He croaked out, disappointed before closing his eyes.

"What?" Francis asked, slightly insulted before he realised what he meant. The perfume.

"Kenna," Bash whispered, confirming Francis's suspicions.

Francis beamed. "Oh my God, you arsehole!" He cried out, hugging him tightly. "I should have known Kenna would wake you up."

["...Antoine Bourbon, the nephew of King Henry VI of France was arrested by Swedish authorities at the Swedish-Norwegian border. He is believed to have been behind Prince Sébastien and Duchess Mckenna of Orléan's tragic car accident. Evidence revealed showed that he was stalking the couple, something he did in previous years to other women. He is expected to be extradited back to France to face judgement following his suspected crimes..."]

Francis turned to the TV as Bash opened his eyes.

["...But just in, King Henry's mistress, Lady Penelope Lombard reveals she is pregnant with the King's baby as multiple women accuse him of rape."]

Francis stood slowly, his eyes wide as he shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no. Oh, this can't be happening..."

"I... predicted this," Bash whispered. "But not... this bad."

"Some birthday this is," Francis muttered, placing his hands on his hips as he studied the news coverage.

...

Lissie threw her remote at the TV, running her hands through her hair as Claude stumbled into her bedroom to see if she saw the same thing. Even Margaret entered, flusteredly tying up the belt of her robe.

"Where's Francis?" Lissie demanded, grabbing her phone.

"Forget Francis, where's Father?!" Claude cried out. "What is this woman saying? They never-"

"You must be so naïve," Lissie breathed out, scrolling through her recent calls. "They've been sleeping with each other for years."

Margo covered her mouth in shock. "I thought she was our friend-"

"Penelope has never been our friend," Lissie snapped. "An opportunist. Fed me sweet compliments and... fuck!"

"I bet this has Antoine written all over it," Claude said. "We need to get to Fontaine-"

"You stay with the boys and the little ones," Lissie calmly said, bringing her phone to her ear. "Margo, check on Mary and see if she's alright. I don't think Francis is coming home tonight."

Her sisters nodded and left to carry out her orders. She had to be the sensible one, she couldn't let bitterness take over her body. Just as they received the good news that their prick of a cousin had been arrested, they received bad news straight after. Confirming everyone's suspicions that Henry VI of France couldn't keep it in his pants.

He wasn't the first royal to have an affair but a king, for God's sake! A king with a wife and ten children. The patron of their country, the Père de France, God's anointed.

"Lissie, I can't talk right-"

"We know, Francis."

"I'm trying to reach Father-"

"Where are you?"

"With Bash. We're just talking about it, he's trying to get a hold of Father-"

"What?" Lissie breathed out. Was he playing a joke on them right now? "What the fuck are you saying? Bash is com-"

"Right here and I can hear you."

Lissie clamped her mouth shut, tears springing to her eyes as she let out a sob. "You... of course, you'd pick today of all days. Fucking hell...!"

She heard him chuckle. "As much as I'd love to chat, we need to do some damage control and find out what's going on. First Antoine and now this..."

"I'll come tomorrow," she promised him. "We all will. The little ones too. We'll be a family. Who needs parents?"

"Yeah. Can't wait," he mumbled. "Alright, I've just got a hold of Gautier-"

"We have to go, Lissie. Talk soon."

The phone hung up and Lissie sat down, wiping her runny nose. She let out a smile but then it disappeared and she fixed herself before going to her bedroom, finding her little brother on her bed. At least it wasn't Mary and Francis's bed he ended up, Mary's back was starting to hurt.

"Alright, LouLou," she mumbled, fixing him so he laid straight as opposed to the whole bed. "Let's get some rest."

...

"No one can find Dad," Francis mumbled, hanging up the call and turning to Bash. "Today of all fucking days."

Bash nodded, his eyes closing. "I've slept for more than a month and I still feel tired."

"Lucky for some."

"Francis-"

"I'm fine. More so that you're better," Francis said, placing a kiss on Bash's forehead. "Bubba."

"Fuck," Bash muttered lightly. "I thought I outgrew that."

Francis grinned. "Never." He stepped back. "I need to get to Fontainebleau. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah," Bash mumbled. "I'm just tired. I'll sleep."

"Okay. Knowing you're fine, I could try and catch more than five hours sleep but after I find Dad and see what's going on."

"Mhm," Bash hummed. "Before you go..."

Francis paused in putting his coat on. "Yes?"

"Can you get a device with Skype for me, please?"

Francis smiled a little. "Yeah. I'll see if Michel will spare his."

"Thank you."

"What for?"

Bash opened his eyes. "For not giving up."

Francis beamed, cupping Bash's cheek and placing another kiss on his forehead before putting his coat on. "I should be thanking you. In fact, everyone should because I've not been... complete. I've been an arsehole to everyone and I know that I wasn't the only one grieving but... I don't what I'd do without you."

"Apologise, make things better and come tomorrow morning with the rest of them before they lose their minds."

Francis grinned. "I will," he said, heading to the door.

"Oh, and Ranci?"

Francis turned to Bash with a smirk. "What?"

"Nothing," Bash said with a grin. "Just wanted to annoy you but I'm too tired for that shit."

"Dickhead!"

"Right back at you. Now go, fetch me my tablet, peasant."

"You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Everyone at my beck and call?" Bash asked. "Yes, yes I am."

After having the tablet and Francis leave, Bash settled back onto his pillows with a heavy sigh. On one hand, he wanted to sleep, but on the other hand, he had to find out how his wife was doing.

Just as he was about to call her on Skype, there was a knock on the door and he invited the person in. He inwardly groaned, placing a tight smile on his face as he bid the woman inside.

"Madeleine," he greeted her. "How did you-"

"Michel remembers me. That and I was helping them with the investigation," she said, taking a seat beside his bed. "I was the one who directed the authorities to Antoine. I never knew I could manipulate him like that, into giving me his location... Told him something along the lines that Father forgave him and was ready to write him back in the will if only he came home. He said he couldn't and I suggested that we all go to Norway to meet him. Fell for it."

Bash blinked in surprise. "I don't know what to say."

"A 'thank you' would suffice," she said with a small smile. "I couldn't believe the news... I kept saying it wasn't true. But then even I know Antoine is capable of anything. He's lost his way, he no longer believes in God or believes there's still some good deep down inside him."

"There's no good in him, everyone knows that."

"One could hope," Madeleine replied. "Remember when we met?"

"Please, don't."

"The bar in Mexico of all places," she said. "You were celebrating your eighteenth after having time off from the Army. If only we knew back then what we were before we got carried away."

Bash flinched. "That was a mistake."

"Imagine what I thought when I saw you at the chateau, arguing with your father when I came to sign the edict. By then, I was set to marry my husband and I forgot all about what happened between us," she told him. "I'm glad you're okay, Sébastien. Your father's heart was broken."

"So I've been told," Bash replied. "Thank you for your help and for the visit. I'd like to be alone now."

She stood up. "Of course. If you need anything, my husband's running for the Dutch Parliament. He will get it. So if you or Francis need something, he has people in high places all around the world."

"What makes you say that?" Bash asked, narrowing his eyes.

Madeleine smiled knowingly. "Your father's indiscrétion will affect your family's image even more. Francis will be king and I will support him. I love your father, he was kind to me when my brothers overshadowed my light. But he cannot rule France anymore. Not like this, not with its finances being squandered away on bad choices. He isn't controlling the Parliament well enough, they're making decisions that put him in a bad light. I hope you'll help Francis get the throne sooner rather than later and deal with this country's politics."

"At this point, Catherine owns France," Bash stated.

"Not when Francis will be king. He will have his beautiful wife and they'll pull the strings together," Madeleine replied. "There will be an interregnum period when Henry steps down, use it wisely."

With that lasting thought, she left and Bash sighed heavily. It wasn't the first thing he wanted to hear when he first woke up. This time last year, he was in Australia, different girl for different days, alcohol and whatever came with his winter break away from France. Now, he was being brought into the politics of France.

His attention went to the TV and he rolled his eyes, listening to the panel of reporters discuss what happens next for the French Royal Family. Bullshit, Bash thought, using his good arm to reach over and grab the remote.

He turned the TV off and paged Michel inside.

"None of the Bourbons are allowed. That includes sisters who change their surnames after marriage," he told the man. "Am I clear?"

Michel nodded. "As you wish, sir."

"I was told a photograph was taken of me?"

"Y-Yes, Your Lordship."

Bash winced. "I want every name of every medical professional who has been on my case. Have people question them and then in the morning, have Narcisse visit me."

"I will let him know right away and get right on that," Michel replied. He paused before the door. "Glad you're better, Your Highness."

"Drop the formalities, you've seen me at death's door. Sadly, there was no light and I didn't walk to it. I figured even if there was light, I'd rather my wife's terrible cooking than an eternity of perfectly good food."

"One thing for sure, your dry humour was missed," Michel muttered with a smile before leaving.

...

Francis was the first one to roll his eyes when he saw Narcisse scribing down everything Bash told him as he entered the room the next morning. "Don't tell me you're working."

"I have my staff preparing my room at Fontainebleau. Has no one seriously seen where Father went?" Bash asked, using Michel's support to get out of the bed.

Francis walked over, helping Michel seat him into a wheelchair. "He disappeared. People said he had a meltdown, others say he was cursing at the chapel but none were sufficient enough to tell us where he went."

"Francis, you know what this means. France looks to you now," Bash told him, swallowing hard as his arm stung with pain. "It's worse than it looks." He eyed Francis's concerned gaze. "Possible nerve damage, I made it worse trying to get the door open on Kenna's side of the car."

"Is it reversible?" Francis asked him, eyes wide.

"Should heal within the next two months or so," Bash replied hopefully. "It wasn't damaged in the sense that my nerves were cut. More or less bruised."

Francis smiled. "That's good."

"How is my wife, by the way?" Need to call her ASAP, Bash thought.

"She still doesn't know you're awake," Francis replied slowly. "Within good reason. She is booked at some elite hospital, for physiotherapy."

Bash closed his eyes. "Can you put her out of her misery, please?"

"I will, this afternoon," Francis promised.

"I found out how the photo came to be," Bash began. "Can we walk and talk? Or be pushed in my position. I've just been told I've been confined to this room for over a month and I'm telling you now, it's dreadful."

Francis sighed, crossing his arms. "Forgot what you promised?"

Bash frowned before realising what he meant. "Can they wait an hour-"

"No."

"Fuck. Okay, bring them in."

Like an army, their younger siblings entered, Louis first as he launched himself into Bash's arm, burying his face into his chest.

"You could look better," Claude said teasingly as Emone and Hattie kissed his cheeks, and Charles and Henri smiled for the first time in ages.

"Don't tell me, that hospital gown's Armarni," Lissie added, giving him a wink. "Mother sends her love."

Bash scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"Okay, she sends a fruit basket, Roquefort and your favourite wine to go with them," Margo told him, eyeing Michel and Narcisse. "Can we have some privacy, please?"

Both Michel and Narcisse turned to Bash and he nodded.

"Give me two hours," he told them.

"Very well, Your Highness," Narcisse said before bowing and turning to the rest. "Your Highnesses." And to Francis, "Your Royal Highness."

The two men left and Bash found himself being attacked with hugs.

"Oh, it's been awful," Margo muttered. "Never do that again!"

"I don't intend to," Bash said, his eyes meeting Francis's. He guessed the blonde was right. They did value him more now.

He used his free hand to send a quick text to Francis as their siblings went over to the TV to argue about what to put on so they could all watch together. He turned to Francis and Francis looked down at his phone.

{To Francis: Dupain. Charles Bourbon's former doctor.}

Francis took a sharp intake of breath, shaking his head in disbelief. He looked up at Bash and nodded before slipping his phone into his breast pocket and excusing himself from the room where he met Michel outside with Gautier.

"You both know what do to," he told them. "I want him questioned and his medical license taken."

...

Mary hurried forward, catching the woman just in time. She was staying at a five-star hotel and Mary had got sources to find her for her. For Catherine, more less. The queen was out of her wits and with the king missing, Mary offered to sort out the situation quietly.

"Lady Penelope, is it?"

Penelope stopped, turned and smiled plastically at Mary. "Your Royal Highness," she said, curtseying. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"Is it true?"

"Straight to the point," Penelope said, impressed. "It is true. I have the tests to prove it."

"And the paternity?"

"Oh, it's the King's. I would never keep him from his child," Penelope replied. "He loves his children and he will love this one too."

Mary wanted to call her out for her stupidity, that there were obvious ways to prove paternity. Especially this one, "A sous chef at the chateau said you often engaged in sexual intercourse."

"We always used protection."

"Fair enough," Mary replied. "You need to tell the world you are lying."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because this will hurt your family in more ways you think of if the truth gets out. That the child you're carrying or not carrying isn't Henry's," Mary told her. "Think wisely, Lady Penelope. This is the only warning you will get."

Mary turned around and walked away, her phone beeping with a text. She opened it up and saw an address from an unknown number. With a sigh, Mary contemplated whether to go as her heels continued to click-clack against the marble floors.

By the time she got into the car, she gave the address to Colin.

She was taken to a lovely estate home, just northwest of Brittany, Rennes. From the not so subtle coat of arms on the gates, Mary assumed that this was were Henry was laying low.

Colin stopped in front of the front doors and three guards she didn't recognise opened the car door and both front doors for her. She got out of the car and entered the house, looking at the portraits on the walls of the winding stairs. They were stunning, familial portraits and Mary smiled.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" She heard someone say from beside her. "My most prized possessions after my children, the muses, of course."

"Henry. What is going on, Your Majesty?" She asked, turning on her heels to stare at the side of his face, his eyes trained on the portraits, hands in his pockets.

Henry smiled a little. "The child is not mine. It's impossible."

"You had a vasectomy?" Mary guessed.

"I did," Henry said. "After I found out I had prostate cancer following Louis's birth. I kept it from everyone, took that five-month-long sabbatical in America to get treated. I used the guise of investigating my brother's untimely death in privacy as an excuse arousing suspicion he was killed under suspicious circumstances. He wasn't. He died from a brain aneurysm when we were teenagers."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "I'm so sorry, Henry."

"I'm getting by," he said. "No need to apologise."

"Sorry if this is too intrusive of me but is that why you and Catherine...?"

Henry slowly turned to face her.

"Francis said that was around the time you kept separate rooms and well..." She glanced down at her stomach. "Stopped... I should stop-"

"I was too embarrassed. I feared rejection so sought sex from elsewhere," Henry replied. "You must be parched. Catherine was always thirsty when she was pregnant. I have Winter's Brew."

She followed him to the conservatory. "What's that?"

"A recipe Diane got from her mother. It's drunk in Winter," Henry explained. "Made of kale, kiwi, limes, pineapples and strawberries with cinnamon. It's heated up and mixed with Rum. I'll keep the Rum out for you though."

Mary sat down and accepted a glass. "Thank you. So, it's like mulled wine?"

"I guess, less alcohol," Henry said, drinking his.

"Why are you in hiding?"

"I don't know."

"Did you rape those women?"

"No."

"Then isn't running away making you look guilty?"

Henry shook his head. "I'll return. I've only been with five women in my lifetime."

"Shall I guess who they are?" Mary asked jovially, sipping her drink.

He smiled wryly. "I can see your Scottish side dominates. You don't take shit from people. You are honest, unlike most of the people at the chateau."

"I'm going to guess," Mary stated. "Catherine, Diane, Penelope, Kenna and..."

Henry winced. "Some married woman I had relations with. Her husband is still in Parliament so I'll keep that one to myself. The women who came out with these false stories used to be employed as staff. Disgruntled women who I rejected. I had no desire for sex following my illness but Penelope... I thought she understood me."

"I'm so sorry," Mary said. "Why don't you tell Cath-"

"I slept with Diane." He shook his head. "If I told her about my condition, I'd have to spill everything. I'm not ready to lose Catherine. I tried to do this with the least amount of damage for her. She didn't ask for this marriage, it happened but I came to love her somewhat. She bore me nine children, how could I be ungrateful?" He increased the volume of Rum in his drink. "I allowed her to keep her secret... I even tried to make things easier for her and allowed the secret to exist. It wasn't enough. I never give her enough. Now, this."

Mary was surprised. Henry accepted Clarissa but no one knew that. He didn't know she knew about her. "What happens now?"

"I'm abdicating, Mary. I am sure you've come to realise things were coming to an end for me," he told her. "You see, I asked you what would happen if you became Queen Consort two months ago."

Mary nodded slowly. "I see. You knew this was coming."

"I ended things with Penelope. I told her I wanted to spend the rest of the time I had left with Catherine."

Mary bit her lip, willing her tears to not come into fruition. "Your cancer is back?"

"Incurable," he mumbled. "Just as I was settling into organising things for Francis, Sweden happened."

"Bash is awake, Henry."

Henry's face faltered and he almost spilt his drink, quickly placing it onto the table. "What did you say?"

"Bash woke up," Mary whispered. "Francis was there and... He's talking and he's recovered."

"I have to see him..." Henry breathed out in shock. "I-I have to see him right now."

Mary stopped him. "Francis called me. I lied to him where I was going. He told me that Bash was persistent in going to Fontainebleau to sort out this mess. To deal with Antoine, try and soften the damage done."

"It's easy to solve all of these issues," Henry said. "I need Samuel Nostradamus on the phone."

"You trust him? After everything?"

"He speaks the truth. His employees' actions do not make me think less of him," Henry replied. "He's been a part of Catherine's life for a long time. She will need his support."

Mary paused. "Henry, I know we have not had a chance to become close but I do respect you. My father, I never knew him but how everyone who did speaks about him with utmost admiration, including you... I know you all would have redeeming factors about you. So, abdicate, spend your last years or whatever making it up to your family. And don't mess things up with them."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," Henry said lightly, finishing his drink. "I think we better head to Fontainebleau."

"I think we better too," Mary replied.

...

"Where have you been?"

Mary stopped putting the pillowcase on her pillow and turned to her husband. "I went to see Lady Penelope," she simply said, continuing to change the bedding.

"What are you doing?"

"Changing our bedsheets, Francis," Mary said, smiling a little in amusement.

"We have people to do that. Come, sit down-"

"God forbid the pregnant woman giving herself something to do! Or that we're normal people who do normal things like changing our own bedding," Mary chided, giggling. "Calm down, Francis."

Francis ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry. My father turned up and the first thing he did was ignore what was going on and focused on Bash. Even Bash was pissed off, helping me do as much damage control as we could by appealing to Members of Parliament. Apparently, I'll need to start looking into suitable members to join as I'll have to disband the useless one we have now. That and the Prime Minister are I are in talks every other minute."

"Where is this leading to?" She already knew.

"Interregnum. My father steps down, an investigation and a trial are conducted as I rally support from every political ally I can," Francis told her, taking a seat on their sofa. "And I will most likely become king after our child is born."

Mary sat beside him. "Four months."

"Yes," he replied. "Four months of a complete shitstorm." He sighed, placing a hand on her bump. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Kenna called me, asked if it was true. I told her it was and the next thing I know, she's on her way."

Francis grinned. "Bash is desperate to see her. He isn't one hundred per cent yet but he's getting there. He's falling back asleep every now and then, the doctor said that was normal. It's his body's way of rebooting. I forgot how restless he was, getting right into ordering things left, right and centre. He really should have been king over me. I doubt I'd even be a good father how I was falling apart. Just as I have been a shitty husband."

Mary cupped his cheeks and turned his face to look at her. "You and Bash both have your strengths and weaknesses. Bash may be good at finding solutions for certain issues, but he would crumble beneath the pressure. But you? You're compassionate, loving, caring, strong, wise and you do things for the sake of others. You've been trained your whole life for this, you will do great things, Francis Valois. Look at how you were researching, day and night, for Bash. If he knew just how much you cared for him, willing to risk your health, he would appreciate you even more than he does already. Leading to fatherhood... Seeing you hurt and try to save Bash? I know you'll do anything for our child and the ones after them. You are perfect and you are a wonderful husband."

Francis kissed her softly. "Are you done making the bed?"

"Not exactly, why?"

"I want you," he whispered against her lips before kissing them. "Right now."

Mary's eyes fluttered closed. "Then take me," she whispered back.

When they were finished, Mary followed Francis downstairs just in time to see Henry and Catherine in the middle of an argument. Mary flinched when Henry begged her only to be shut up with a loud slap.

His eyes landed on Mary and Francis and he composed himself.

"François, Marie," he said cordially. "Excusez nous."

"Yes," Catherine snapped. "Leave us."

Francis shook his head. "No," he said, continuing down the steps. "I think you both need to start listening to me. I have questions and you both have the answers." He turned to face Mary. "Wife, I think you need to be there too."