Quote of the chapter: "Let parents bequeath to their children not riches, but the spirit of reverence." – Plato.
"So, what I've been told for months from different sources is true?" Francis asked his parents, arms crossed. "About the debt France is in and how Italy keeps bailing her out?"
They sat before him, he stood. They were inferior, he was superior. Mary raised her eyebrows at how calm and collected her husband was, seeking answers he deserved from his parents. A future king indeed.
"I was sixteen when my brother died at age eighteen," Henry began quietly. "Twenty when I became King of France. My father passed away, cancer. My mother was too heartbroken to be Queen Regent or Mother even. A lot of heavy decisions laid with me." He crossed one leg over the other. "France went through a stage of interregnum. I didn't have my coronation until two years later when I was twenty-two. I was in university, I got to see the world a bit, make friends for life. To be free before the prison called a crown was put upon me. The government assured me they would do things to my content as I took the time to grieve what I'd lose and my never present father. He only had eyes for Francis, your uncle. I named you after him because Francis only had eyes for me."
"I'm sorry you got to miss out-"
"I didn't miss out," Henry told his son. "I had a life, but it just changed. A wise man once told me that 'responsibilities were for the strong. If you are weak, I wouldn't even waste my breath on you'." His eyes landed on Mary. "I never forgot those words. But I let him down. I let my father down. I let my brother down. But I still came out on top because my second wife turned out to be a blessing in disguise."
Catherine's eyes softened. "Was I?" She asked tersely as she rolled her eyes.
Henry smiled. "You know you were. Maybe too much though."
Mary cleared her throat. "Who told you about the responsibility thing?"
"James Stuart. Perhaps, that was why I asked for you and Francis to be married even though you weren't even in existence. Because his daughter was sure to help my heir be the best damn king anyone ever knew." Henry sighed. "I saw him shortly before he passed away."
Mary frowned. "My mother did say he went to France before I was born."
Henry nodded. "I wasn't in the right frame of mind. I was depressed and I begged him to come. Catherine was pregnant with Francis and I was paranoid that someone was out to kill me. The last time I saw him was the day I..."
"You 'what'?" Catherine breathed out in fear.
Henry paused, shaking his head. "It was the anniversary of my brother's death and I didn't want to burden you with that. We barely knew each other, Catherine. We'd known each other physically for ten months, how could I tell you that I never wanted this life? That I wanted to be reunited with my brother?"
"Oh, Henry..." Catherine whispered, taking his hand. "I would have supported you."
"I wouldn't have wanted you to. Not when we were expecting our first child together," Henry told her, eyeing Francis. "He was important, not my silly feelings. You had nothing to worry anyway because James saw to that. I owe him my life, I owe it to him to help Mary."
Francis sat down. "Dad, I'm so sorry."
"For what?" His father asked. "Sorry that I don't know how to rule a country because I was never trained? Because I was the second son and not the first choice? Sorry that I thought marrying for love will solve all my problems? Over the years, I have had to guard my heart, listen to God more than I do people. I've had to push people away so they couldn't see that I was actually in pieces."
"Tell me about the country's finances," Francis asked gently.
"It was terrible until my family stepped in," his mother revealed. "The family owed money from reparations following the coup and revolution back to the people of France. Your father found out after Sébastien was born. The Government were involved and lied to him about just how bad the money situation was - not even your grandfather could handle it. There was no way he could continue with France crashing and burning financially so he had to marry me. He had to allow me to have 65% control over France. I never wanted it but being resentful of my parents' judgement for my life before Henry, I used that against Henry. I used that to... force him to love me. I don't even know why because he was certainly not my first love."
"And what about forcing Dad to have your relatives put into the Military and Parliament?"
"I had to keep your father on my side somehow. I couldn't let him run back to Diane, I needed to have a hold on him to keep him with me," Catherine admitted with a sigh. "Then my parents kept putting pressure on me to handle the reins and to try and get them all they invested, and my family in high positions in France could make that happen. I thought if I could have Henry love me, I could be less reliant on Italy. How I wanted to be in the first place so I could have a chance to..."
Henry turned to her. "Tell him, Catherine."
Catherine shook as she eyed Francis. "Francis, you and your siblings have an older half-sister."
Francis froze. "W-What?"
"I was young, stupid and she had... I'm ashamed of myself," Catherine mumbled. "When I married your father, I gave her to her own father. I never stopped loving her and I always was involved in her life, even if it was from a painful distance."
"How could you be involved?"
Catherine smiled wryly. "The girl who did odd-jobs, security, kitchens, maid... Clarissa."
"Clarissa Giroud?" Francis asked in shock. "M-My friend, Clarissa? The one who comforted me when I was upset about being apart from Mary during my anxiety phase?"
"Yes," Catherine whispered.
Francis covered his face. "I-I can't believe it." He looked at his mother. "And you were going to keep that from us? Who else knows?"
"Just your father, Diane and me. Obviously the girl's paternal family but I paid them off," Catherine said. "Francis, I'm so sorry."
Mary didn't let on that she knew as she said, "This is a good thing, right? You always said you felt a connection to her. This explains that!"
Francis turned to her in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how awful it must be for her? For her mother to be a queen but for her to be kept a secret?"
"Fra-"
"I need some air."
He stood up and left, slamming the door behind her.
"Well, when he returns," Henry began, lifting his glass of Scotch and taking a long sip. "I have more truths to reveal..."
...
Francis rolled his eyes when he turned around the corner and saw Elisabeth sitting down on the bench, her knees against her chest as she stared at the wildlife before her.
Sighing, he took a seat beside her, noting that she was shivering in the cold.
"Where's your coat?" He asked her.
"Where's yours?" She retorted, sniffling.
Francis turned to her. "Bash is fine. He's coming home, why are-"
"It's not that," Lissie whispered, her tears falling down her cheeks as she turned to face him. "I lost it."
Francis gasped, his arm going around her shoulders and pulling her head to his chest. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," she mumbled. "I was conflicted about it so I guess now I don't have to tell anyone."
"You should tell the father."
Lissie scoffed, turning to face him. "God, no!" She cried out. "There's nothing to say. What would he do? Nothing. Not even Mama and Papa can do anything."
"Mama and Papa keep secrets from us as well," Francis said bitterly.
"Is this about King Henry being brought down to his knees?" Lissie asked, rolling her eyes.
Francis sighed heavily. "I don't know what to make of our father, Elisabeth. Or our mother."
"You're only just realising that they're shitty people?" Lissie scoffed. "Boy, you and your little wife are so naïve."
"Screw me for believing that our parents could be good," Francis snapped.
"Don't get mad at me!"
"I'm not," he said, sighing. "I just... I don't... Dad's abdicating, you know? He hasn't said he is but I know that whatever bullshit in there that is going on is leading to that."
Lissie narrowed her eyes. "So he did rape those women?"
"I don't know. Why else would he willingly give up? You can't exactly take a king to court and condemn him for his sins. He's invincible in that aspect but take away the crown..."
"You get an easy target," Lissie whispered. "But one thing for sure, that whore is most certainly not having his baby."
Francis smiled wryly. "Small mercies. Thinks we don't know about her love trysts with the kitchen boy."
Lissie rubbed her arms for warmth. "Francis?"
"Yeah?"
"How do you feel?"
"Defeated," Francis said honestly. "And I haven't even begun the battle."
Lissie turned to him. "You'll be the best damn king France has ever seen," she told him. "You may be young, still living life and trying to see where things take you with Mary and your baby but you'll get there. You will succeed, we're all rooting for you. Nous avons votre dos."
"Merci," Francis mumbled. "I should get back inside."
He kissed her forehead and left her, continuing to rock on the bench as she watched the fish swim in the fountain feature. He entered through the back and found Bash being wheeled in by Michel.
"I can walk-"
"No, King's and new doctor's orders," Michel told him. "I have Dr Winter on standby. We thought having familiar staff would ease you into living at Fontainebleau."
"For fuck's sake..."
Francis chuckled. "Bash."
Bash looked up and blushed a little. "You there, peasant. Help me get to my room."
Francis scoffed in amusement. "I think not! Also, I kind of stormed out a conversation with His and Her Majesties."
Bash winced. "Anything I need to be a part of?"
"I don't know."
"Oh, either way, I'm not coming," Bash said, using his good arm to wheel himself down the hallway. "I'm tired, parched, dying. Any excuse that doesn't leave me in a confined space with Catherine de Medici. Au revoir."
"You're weird, do you know that?"
"I'm surprised you've only just realised that now," Bash called over his shoulder as Michel followed him with a chuckle.
Francis returned to the room and sat back down. "I've taken some time to think."
"And?" His mother asked.
"Where's Clarissa?"
"In the Navy."
"Tell the younger ones and when she's off duty, we'll introduce ourselves properly," Francis told her. "I'm sorry for earlier-"
Catherine shook her head. "Don't be. I'm glad you know now."
Henry met Mary's eyes and he gave her a sad smile, deciding not to tell them everything. Not yet at least. "We obviously all know that the allegations are false on all parts. And there is a way to discredit Lady Penelope Lombard."
"How?" Francis asked.
"I had a vasectomy after Louis was born."
"Oh."
Catherine gasped. "You never told me!"
"I thought ten children was enough for me," Henry lied. If he could, he'd have more. "Did we really need to continue breeding out more children? We barely spend enough time with the ones we have already. My medical files are sealed but if one was to unseal it for court, they would find out that Lady Penelope was spiteful and jealous that I was faithful to my wife."
"Oh, Henry...!"
"I should have told you," Henry said. "I was embarrassed. I got it done when I was in the States. Then afterwards, my sex drive was pretty much nonexistent."
Catherine shook her head in disbelief. "I could kill you sometimes!"
"Hey, that's regicide," Francis said lightly. "We've had enough attempts on royals already." He turned to his father. "You don't have to step down. I'm not ready to be king nor-"
"Francis, I have to," Henry said. "We can easily fix all of this including the Antoine Bourbon situation but I had decided, I will abdicate." He took Catherine's hand. "And Catherine and I will leave for Italy for three months to repair our marriage. There are some things parents need to keep from their children."
"But-"
"François, I am very proud of you and over the years you've been a great dauphin. It's time to take all that you've learnt and put it to use," Henry said. "First, organise your government so when you are crowned king, everything will slot into place and run like a well-oiled machine."
Francis sighed and nodded. "Oui, Father."
"Good," Henry breathed out. "Now, let's brave the storm."
...
A week later, everything was back to normal. Well, partly. Antoine Bourbon's case was being processed and the final day of the trial was taking place two days later. As for Penelope, she'd been exiled following Catherine's orders and the women who put forward that they had been raped had mysteriously taken back their statements, saying that it was a different person who hurt them.
Samuel Nostradamus was covering everything. From Penelope's vicious and vindictive lies to Antoine Bourbon's jealousy-fuelled rage and attempted murder of the beloved French Prince and his Scottish Bride.
He appeared behind his old friend's back.
"You called for me?"
Catherine nodded. "After Francis becomes king, I am leaving for Rennes. Permanently."
"With the King?"
"Yes," Catherine said quietly, her eyes stinging with tears. "I've been stupid."
"How?"
"I never knew that he had it hard," she mumbled. "He was never satisfied because he never knew what he wanted in the first place. He and I are very similar. I should have seen, should have noticed. Now, it's too late for us."
Samuel stepped closer. "Your Majesty?"
"Samuel, we're friends," she snapped lightly.
"Catherine?" He tried.
Catherine nodded. "He's dying, Samuel. What am I going to do?"
Nostradamus sighed heavily. "I know."
"What?"
"He called me to Rennes," he admitted. "He said he had a story. When he passes, I will release his autobiography under my pen name."
Catherine covered her mouth as tears slipped down her cheeks "Will you... be there when I need you?"
"Martina and I will always be here for you," he replied. "When the autobiography is released, we're moving to Spain. We will control the newspaper from there. You're welcome to stay with us at any time."
"Thank you, Sammy."
"Anytime, Cathy."
She took a deep breath. "I must cater to my stepson. He... He finds it difficult to get around."
"You tolerate him?"
"He's bearable. Fed me some home truths and well, he's smart, I can't deny," Catherine replied with a soft chuckle. "His siblings are obsessed with him. They were like death came knocking when he was comatose. My siblings would never be like that for me."
"Well, you have me," Samuel told her. "I will even shed some tears."
They laughed and Catherine hugged him, inhaling his scent. "I can't believe I never thought we'd never be compatible."
"We work better as friends, Catherine," he said, pulling away from her. "And Giroud was in the picture."
"Giroud broke my heart."
"Giroud had a duty to France," Samuel said firmly. "I couldn't have given you what you wanted. I was just a poor boy with a scholarship, your parents would have forbidden it."
Catherine smirked. "If only they could notice your efforts now. Nearing your billionth euro?"
"We'll see," he said, laughing. "More liked thousandth. Anyway, how will you all make money once you release yourself from the Medicis?"
"Mary suggested investing in the future. Funding fifty-thousand university places in STEM degrees from her own pocket," Catherine said. "That along with outgoing products and trade rather than incoming. We'll have royal products being sold for people of all classes. Affordable foods, clothing, you name it. Work to be stable. And Francis will see us through that."
"I am glad. He has a good wife."
"I never saw it until now. But I am glad she's here. Her father saved my husband and now, she saved my son," Catherine whispered. "I owe her everything."
...
"I would ask you to help me take a seat but you're worse than I am from the looks of it."
Bash smiled, turning to face Kenna who was on crutches. "Getting there?"
"Mhm," she said, getting to the armchair in front of him. "Hi, lover."
"Hi, babe," he said, reaching his hand out for her to take. "I missed you."
Kenna sighed. "I missed you too," she whispered. "It was... hard. I started PT as soon as I could. I just... I had to get better so I could look after you but I guess you didn't need me anyway."
"Did Francis tell you what woke me up?"
She shook her head. "Not exactly."
"Your perfume. You lent a bottle to Mary and the next thing I know, I'm hoping I see you when I wake up. It was only Francis and well, our reunion was short-lived because the news about my father was released."
"But that's all sorted out now, right?"
"Yeah," he replied. "Let's not talk about my disaster of a family. But how our honeymoon was cut short. Really short. Like, we were almost murdered short."
Kenna giggled. "One day, we'll get our honeymoon and dream wedding day," she told him. "No running away at the altar, no quickies down the registry office and most certainly, no fast cars and car accidents. I was never squeamish about blood until I lost about half of mine!"
"I'm fine with it. Saw it when I was in the..."
"I thought you didn't do the guns and blood?" She asked suspiciously.
"Some people were injured, I helped the medics," Bash said. "I'm not just a prince with a pretty face."
Kenna smiled, glancing downwards to her lap. "Do you mind if I lift my leg up? It twinges when I sit for long periods of time."
"Go for it."
She lifted her leg onto the ottoman and sighed in relief. "That's better. I had surgery on my knee. Wasn't that bad, a hairline fracture. I also had surgery on my spine." She gave him a wry smile. "Ugly scars..."
"I'm sure they're beautiful," Bash told her. "Either way, I've married you and we're doing this, in sickness and in health."
Kenna's eyes sparkled and she nodded. "Right. About that..." She dug into her pocket and retrieved a letter addressed to him. "I wrote down a letter to you when we weren't sure you'd ever wake up. I had some blood tests done last week because there was a risk of an infection and I was feeling under the weather because I was throwing up a lot and had terrible sweats."
"And?" Bash asked, taking the letter and opening it to read its contents.
"Why don't you see for yourself?" Kenna asked softly, watching his reaction.
Bash sighed. "You're five weeks pregnant?"
"Six," she corrected. "As of now. Well, six and a couple of days."
"Jesus... Not now..." He muttered, letting go of her hand and rubbing it down his face as he studied the words.
Kenna's face fell. "I'm sorry?"
"Kenna, there's a lot going on," Bash said quietly. "Francis and Mary are preparing for the dauphin or dauphine of France, Francis is going to be king in less than four months, I need to deal with our trial against Antoine Bourbon, I need to recover, you need to recover-"
"Sebastian," Kenna gently called him, taking his hand in hers. "I know. I know everything's a bit crazy and hectic but well, it's happened. I wasn't expecting my estranged husband to stalk me down to Sweden and beg for me to take him back, was I? So, yes I stopped taking birth control in the new year because I was having a detox."
Bash nodded. "Can I think about this?"
"Not what I was expecting to hear..." Kenna mumbled. "I'm going to Versailles, Lola and Greer are coming to help me get there. I'm guessing you're staying for Francis?"
"I am."
"Right, I'll see you later," she said, using her crutches to stand up.
She headed to the door and waited. Waited for him to call her back so they could talk this through but he didn't and she finally left, feeling hurt as she continued out of the room.
"Mckenna."
Kenna stopped in her tracks and turned to face Henry. "Your Majesty," she said breathlessly. "I apologise for what you went through with Lady Penelope. I always knew she was not a respectable woman."
"Well, that's been laid to rest," he said. "Have you seen my son?"
Kenna gave him a tight smile. "I have," she said, suddenly feeling a little faint. "I should get going but I am thankful for what you did for us when... when he was comatose."
"You're welcome but it's Francis you should be thanking and not me," Henry said "Really held the family together. Exactly why he will be king in four months."
"Great decision. Honestly, one of the best you've ever made."
"How would you know that?"
Kenna shrugged a little. "We talked, remember? Before we caused the chain of events leading to my marriage. You were hurting, Henry. Perhaps you should tell someone you love about that."
"I was not hurting," Henry said, his eyes flashing with something Kenna recognised.
"I can read people," Kenna told him. "Us having sex was something you need to discuss with a therapist about. If I'm speaking out of turn, forgive me but it's not every day a monarch abdicates for no reason. Why else do you enjoy the company of younger women after falling in love with an older one and marrying one your age?"
Henry swallowed hard. "Leaving?"
"Versailles," she said.
"I will call a car around."
"No need," she replied. "My father has a personal driver and a few bodyguards for me, Your Majesty. They've been checked and vetted. Forgive me if I do not trust the French team again just yet."
Henry clicked his tongue. "Very well. Good day, Comtessa."
Kenna blinked. "And you, Sir," she said, turning around.
"Mckenna?"
"Yes?" She asked, turning back around.
"Have someone walk you to your car. You look pale," Henry told her, concerned.
She felt dizzy but she planted a smile on her face. "That won't be necessary, Your Majesty. I am perfectly fine." She turned back around and left, keeping her head up high.
...
Mary squinted hard, tutting at herself. "For the love of God..."
"What is it?" Francis asked, entering the dining room with Narcisse. He pressed a kiss on the top of her head and sat down beside her.
Mary stared at her phone. "I can't remember my bloody password for my email and I let my aide take the rest of the day off because she was getting on my damn nerves."
"I will call Angelica," Francis told her.
"Wait," Mary quickly said, attempting a password. "Damn it!"
Francis chuckled. "Pregnancy brain?"
"Be quiet," Mary mumbled before attempting another one. "Yes! Finally!"
"Got it?"
"What do you think?" She asked, beaming happily. "I never use the same password for everything so it gets confusing as hell." She looked up and saw Narcisse. "Hello, Stephane."
Stephane bowed. "Your Royal Highness."
"Why do people keep saying that?"
"Because we're almost in the interregnum," Francis said. "Rights are being granted onto me. I am in control soon and although I won't be king just yet, I'm transitioning."
"Oh," Mary mumbled. "It's different in the UK so I got confused as to why it was being used here when it's almost never."
Francis nodded. "In France, it is reserved for the heir and their spouse usually but recently only during an interregnum for him and his spouse."
"I understand now," she told him before wincing and placing a hand at her lower back. "Jesus."
"What, is it the baby?" Francis asked, leaning into her side in alarm.
"I have back pain," she muttered. "I might need that back massage later on."
Francis grinned. "Will you?"
"Ahem?"
"Oh, Stephane," Francis mumbled. "Monsieur, can you see where my brother is?"
Stephane raised his eyebrow. "Which one, Sir? You have four."
Francis blushed. "Any... one?"
"I will call the one that is not currently wheelchair-bound then," Narcisse said with a knowing smile before leaving. He wasn't going to call any brother.
Francis turned to Mary and kissed her. "I need to work on that."
"You really do," she said with a giggle. "God, I thought I was horny. You literally can't wait until we're alone before you start insinuating what you want to do to me."
"I'm sorry my wife is so goddamn beautiful and that bump is really making things hard for me to bear," he replied. "Sue me."
"Oh, after we sue Antoine, I'm considering it!"
He laughed before sobering up. "About Antoine, we have news that he's pleading not guilty. We obviously knew it was coming, we're preparing for a trial but he's got great lawyers, lawyers who have never lost a case. That's how he could win against all those women he hurt."
Mary sighed. "Well, unfortunately for him, he's going to lose for the first time in his life." She rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't there even be no lawyers for him? He tried to kill two members of a royal family. That's punishable as it stands."
"Yeah, but even he is allowed a fair trial."
"Would they be saying this if they targeted your father?" Mary asked him.
"There won't even be a trial. He'll be sent straight to prison," Francis replied. "On the death penalty, no question about it."
Mary nodded. "What will happen to him?"
"Life imprisonment," Francis said. "But I had some women come forward, his victims and they begged our lawyers to appeal for the death penalty."
"He's destroyed so many lives," Mary replied. "Perhaps it could be an option? He will never learn nor will he repent in prison. He's a lost cause."
"Well, it's not my decision. I'm only Crown Prince, my father is still in power. He says 'no'."
"Then make him say 'yes'," Mary told him.
...
"I'm going to be a father."
Francis broke out into a smile but then it fell when he realised that Bash wasn't smiling about it. "What's wrong?"
"I don't want to be a dad this soon."
"B-But you and Kenna were talking about names and having a family-"
"I was trying to put her mind off the fact that she was bleeding out and dying," Bash cut him off. "And yes, I do want children but I also wanted more time to get to know my wife. Alone. A child just distracts us and we won't have any time to be husband and wife. Like, I've been unconscious for most of my marriage, that says something, right?"
Francis nodded. "I get you. That is kind of sad."
"Now, she's mad at me and well, I don't know what to do."
"Where is she?"
"Versailles but she's heading to our home in Paris to see Olenna," Bash replied. "Greer is keeping me updated. She's mad and upset."
Francis crossed his arms. "Simple. Go to her, tell her how excited you are to become a father and thinking about our firstborn children growing up together."
"When you put it like that..." Bash trailed off. "I guess being married actually involves us being actively a part of each other's lives. I don't know, I need time to think about it."
"Hmm," Francis hummed. He sighed. "If I'm honest, I tell you to be excited but I'm terrified."
Bash looked at him in surprise. "You haven't stopped going on about how much you can't wait to be a father."
"Yes, but I will be thrust under a crown when they're born and I will be dragged away on my royal tour," he said. "I will barely have enough time to bond with my newborn child before Mary and I will be whisked around French colonies and other countries as King and Queen."
Bash smiled a little. "You are not the first king to be given the throne so young," he said. "Nor are you the first to have children so young. Our ancestors did it, you can do it too. Who says you can't take a Crown Prince or Princess on tour with you?"
"Dad and my mother kept me here."
"That was then, this is now. You are an adult, you will be king, you can make the rules," Bash replied easily. "Now, about this baby shower."
"You've heard about it?"
"In passing," Bash said. "Some maids were muttering about it. Is it true than men have to be there?"
Francis nodded. "Mary and I are doing things modernly."
"For fuck's sake..."
"There will be alcohol," Francis tried.
"I'm listening..."
"And more alcohol-"
"I'm sold," Bash said. "At least the dress theme is decent and not your usual blue or pink."
Francis smiled. "Again, modern royals."
"Ain't that right?" Bash mumbled. "I'm tired, can you wheel me back inside?"
Francis sighed. "People will think you're going to be king and not me."
"Well, I am your right-hand man."
...
The day of the trial put everyone on edge. Francis woke up, turned to Mary and saw that she was still asleep. She had been doing a lot lately. Visiting centres for abused women, doing her part in showing the world that the French Royal Family did not tolerate abuse. She had also been preparing for their baby shower, she was almost twenty-four weeks gone.
"Mary?" He called her softly, brushing her hair away from her closed eyes.
"A few more minutes," she begged groggily. "I'm so tired."
"I know, baby," he mumbled, kissing her cheek. "It's almost over."
Her eyes opened and she stared into his. "Will Henry be there?"
"No, my father has some things to do," Francis said to her. "Personal matters."
Mary nodded. "What about your mother?"
"Only you, me, Bash, Kenna and our friends will be there," Francis told her. "Although Elisabeth is hellbent on coming. She's been go, go, go since she lost the baby."
"At least she's not drinking like Claude was," Mary mumbled. "How long do we have?"
Francis checked their wall clock. "Two hours until we meet everyone. Six until it starts at one."
"I know that we'll win the case for sure but I never expected that I'd ever go through this," she told her husband, sitting up. "What the hell... We're supposed to be focusing on our baby who will be the dauphin or dauphine of France straight after they're born. I'm not ready for that."
Francis wrapped an arm around her bump. "I wish we had more with things as they are. Bash suggested all of us going on my royal tour, including our baby."
"Seems plausible," Mary muttered. "I thought the honeymoon tour was enough tours for a long time!"
"Oh, don't get me started," Francis told her. "At least you didn't have to go to three back-to-back tours straight out of school."
"That seems tiring."
"It was," he said, yawning. "Imagine being eighteen and touring China, shaking hands with the big players. The food and culture were amazing to enjoy in my downtime but I didn't actually get any rest until we returned home."
Mary sighed. "We won't have it easy, will we? With a baby on top of that... Jesus, Francis."
"It will be our life," Francis said apologetically. "I wasn't expecting to get the throne until I was at least fifty or seventy even. I'm sorry-"
"Never apologise," Mary told him, placing her hand on top of his. He didn't need to, not when she knew the truth. "Our baby's about one and a half pounds now..."
Francis beamed. "Any kicking?"
"Nuh-uh," she said, almost sad. "I'm pretty excited to feel that. My mother said I was a little Football player when she was expecting me."
"Do you like football?"
Mary scoffed. "I really need to show you my photo album from my school years. From Football to Netball and Swimming. Granted, I wasn't the captain of the teams but I was a valued player."
"In the sense that you were benched?" Francis asked with a cheeky grin.
"Francis Valois!" She cried out, blushing. "Only for Swimming though. I was slow and just a seat warmer. Netball was fun. Almost got beaten up in Football."
"How?"
"A little misunderstanding," Mary said. "Kissed one of the opposing girls' boyfriend on the cheek after he begged for a reward after finding Sterling. He ran off you see and he was about to be crushed by a tractor and he saved my dog's life."
Francis tightened his grip a little. "I'm the only one you can kiss."
Mary grinned. "Jealous, are we?"
"What if I am?"
Mary bit her lip seductively. "And if someone were to kiss me, what would you do?"
"I'd kiss you and make love to you right in front of them. Show them who you really belong to," he said, getting on top of her but using his arms to lift his frame so he didn't crush her bump.
Mary smirked. "You own me?"
Francis choked. "Uh, I mean-Well-I-"
"I'm just a possession?" She asked, her fingers trailing his neck. "Something to be used?"
"N-No-"
"And no one can have me? Just you?"
"Well, y-yes-"
She nipped at his ear before rolling onto his side and getting out of the bed from there. "Men," she muttered, shaking her head with a grin and a roll of her eyes.
"Mary, I didn't mean-"
But she shut the bathroom door on him.
...
"Need help with that?"
Bash turned and faced his wife, nodding. "Please, if you don't mind."
Kenna entered the bedroom, using a crutch to close the door before the security guard took over anyway. She hobbled over, leaning her crutches beside the armchair before helping Bash into his shirt and then his suit jacket.
"Ready to face him?" He asked her, lifting his perfume bottle up and spraying it.
"No," Kenna mumbled. "It's not him I'm not ready to face. It's you. You never got back to me."
Bash sighed, gesturing for her to take a seat as he walked over to the drinks bar. Courtesy of his father and he most certainly wasn't complaining. He was too sober for all of this, he needed to drink the whole three months of his life away. Apart from his marriage, of course.
"I know we keep coming back to this," he said, pouring two drinks. He picked one up and handed it to her before grabbing his own drink as his other arm was in a sling. "But we barely know each other as it is and throwing a baby into the mix...?"
Kenna drank half of her drink. "I understand. Should I get rid of it?"
"God, no! I would never ask you to do that," Bash said, alarmed. "This is our baby, I won't let anything happen to them."
Kenna gasped, tears springing to her eyes. "You're fine with it?"
"I'll have to be," he said lightly. "I thought we'd have kids a few years down the line when we've explored the world together, be just you and me but we can still do that. With a beautiful baby in the mix."
She smiled brightly. "Now, I don't feel as shit-" She glanced down at what she was holding. "Shit."
"Oh," Bash said, taking the drink. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think. It's today, my mind's everywhere-"
She blushed, gagging. "It's fine. honestly, I don't think it would be too bad," she said rubbing her neck. "Is God sure, making us parents?"
He laughed, downing the rest of her drink. "I think we'll be fine," he said before sobering up. "I need to tell you something."
"Go ahead," she said, lifting her leg onto the ottoman to get comfortable.
"You've heard of Antoine's sister? Madeleine Bourbon or-"
"Van Houten," Kenna finished. "Yes. She was at Francis's and Mary's wedding and had a long conversation with me over drinks."
Bash frowned. "You never told me you spoke to my cousin."
"Well, that was before we knew her brother was a psychopath. Honestly, you guys should have told us what he did before I jumped into bed with him," Kenna said, crossing her arms. "She was nice, very kind. Kept asking me about how our relationship."
"Well, before you freak out, I have to say that we didn't know who the other was-"
"Where is this getting at?"
Bash winced. "We slept together."
"Well, you're not the first royals to sleep with your cousins," Kenna replied nonchalantly. "I kissed the grandkid of my dad's father's third sister. We lived in a small town in Scotland and I was four."
Bash laughed a little. "But you weren't fully consenting adults, weren't you?"
Kenna shrugged. "Meh. I don't care about the past, lover. I care about the future, the one we have with our baby."
Bash stood from his seat and knelt down beside her seat. "When this trial is over, you and I will go to Sweden. Straight after."
"You like whisking me off on impromptu journeys, don't you?" She asked with a grin. "I'd love to but I'm helping Mary and Francis plan their baby shower with Lola and Greer."
"After the baby shower then," he said. "I just need some time with just you and me. No siblings, no fathers, no whatever else, just you and me."
She brought his hand to her tummy. "And Baby too."
"If he really must come."
"He?"
Bash grinned. "I-I don't mind."
"That's what I thought," she replied, chuckling. "Imagine it. Francis and Mary with their son and us with our little girl."
"Between you and me, I think France will have her first sovereign queen," Bash told her.
"Have you seen the gender result?" Kenna asked, eyes wide.
Bash shook his head. "My father said he saw it in his dream or something crazy like that. But I actually believe him. France's first Queen Regnant. Isn't that exciting?"
"Well, I think we've been a terrible uncle and aunt," she told him. "Name suggestions for the future dauphine. 'Rachel'."
"No, they're more likely to choose 'Sébastienne'. It's a strong name. I was named after the early Christian saint and martyr, Saint Sebastian. She could be too!" Bash told her.
Kenna gaped. "No. No... Just, no." She giggled. "Oh, God and don't you dare consider that name for our child."
"You've just insulted my mother's uncle, Sebastian and my great-great uncle, Sébastien, and my great-great-great-grandfather, Basti-"
"I get it and all respect to the long line of Sebastian de Poitierses, but I'm the one carrying this baby for nine months, not them. Not that they ever did for their wives either," she said.
A knock on the door stopped their laughing and Michel peeked his head inside.
"The car has arrived," he told them. "Do you need help, Com-Duchess?"
Kenna turned to Bash. "I think he wishes he could lift me into his big, strong arms but... I'll have to settle for ripped Michel instead."
"Mckenna!" Bash cried out.
"What?" She asked innocently as Michel entered the bedroom. "It hurts me more than it hurts you, mon amour!" She grinned when Michel lifted her into his arms easily. "Take me downstairs, gorgeous."
...
"That was exciting," Greer said quietly. "Being taken inside by the back entrance."
Lola cringed. "I never knew that there would be so many reporters. Apparently, there's a lot from outside of France."
"It's an important trial," Mary told them, taking Francis's hand nervously as she searched for Kenna and Bash who were witnesses.
They were seated in the royal box, reserved for the Royal Family should needs be. Remy, Julien and Leith entered with Leith's sunglasses on his face and a deep frown. Everyone turned to him and he blushed.
"I drank a little bit too much," he said. "Pre-celebrating."
"Don't jinx things," Francis said, squeezing Mary's hand when she used the nails of her other one to dig into her palm. He leant to whisper into her ear, "Everything will be fine. Release your grip."
She did as told and looked down to see the red curves her nails made on her palm. "Damn it," she mumbled, feeling it sting. "I'm sorry."
"No, don't be," Francis told her. "You're human. This box is tinted, by the way."
Mary sighed in relief. "Thank God. I can't deal with the judge looking at me as if I'm crazy with the faces I'm probably going to pull. That and this is recording live purposes and for future referral. Dear God, let everything go as planned..."
"Everything will go as planned," Francis assured his wife.
Mary sighed. "I know. My hormones are just freaking out," she mumbled. "I don't feel comfortable and my back is killing me."
"I could send someone to get a pillow?"
"Oh, my love," Mary said. "If you don't mind?"
Francis grinned. "We're the future King and Queen of France, will anyone deny you a pillow for your back or discomfort?"
Mary giggled, shaking her head. "Thank you. That will really help."
After a while of waiting, the judge arrived and so did the defendant, shackled by the legs and wrists as he wore a sharp suit and smiled indifferently. Mary glared at the back of his head through the glass and he turned, looking up at the tinted box, sending a wink to them. She felt her hand being held tightly and she placed a hand on Francis's forearm.
"Arsehole," Julien muttered darkly.
"Thinking the same thing," his brother said, turning to the couple. "If only we could strangle him with our bare hands..."
"Now, now, gentlemen," Greer said. "Play nicely."
They were in for a long day.
