Hey, here is another chapter :) As I said I had a very creative phase yesterday and I ended up writing a lot and well... I wrote this chapter. I hope you all like it as much as I do. It's a bit long so prepare.

Disclaimer: I don't own "Reign" and I don't make any profit with this story.

Enjoy the reading.

Chapter 5

Later that day

Catherine entered the room. The room was filled with people, mostly young ladies who wanted into the kings bed. But she didn't want to think about those things today. She only wanted to dance the night away. And, God willing, she would do so tonight.

At first, Lord Narcisse thoroughly enjoyed the endless parade of ladies that, in all certainty, were ready and willing to offer themselves to him. But now, after having seen and interacted with countless women, he'd become bored. They were all the same – average-looking, airheaded and, frankly, unmemorable. A part of him had begun daydreaming about slipping away of the party and into his chambers to think about the person he wanted the most... Catherine de'Medici. But soon enough that idea was well out of his head, and his eyes were on the newly-announced marriageable lady – the mysterious Lady.

It was as though new life had been breathed into him. With it came the sense of sweet, fresh air filling his lungs, a newfound sense of relaxation, and a renewed ability to appreciate beauty. And the mysterious Lady was a beauty, without question. Even with her mask perfectly in place, he could see it.

He just had to dance with her (eventually, he obviously couldn't right then) - he had to see her up-close, and talk to her.

And it wouldn't be boring small talk, such as the kind he'd been passing off for at least the last five conversations he'd had with women in passing. He'd sooner throw himself from the balcony than talk about what mild weather they'd been having, and how lucky it was that the ball was scheduled for a clear night, for a dozenth (or even more so) time.

Not when there were more interesting topics to be discussed.

Of course, in order to talk about any of them, the mysterious Lady had to come his way. But at least half a dozen suitors were already making their ways towards her, clearly claiming dances.

And finally (and after practically having to elbow his way to her) he got his turn.

"Of course," she said upon his request for a dance, smiling in a way that was making him weak in the knees, "I'd love to dance with you, Lord…?"

"Lord Narcisse," he quickly said. "And it's an honour, your Ladyship."

He saw her smile widen beneath her mask, and thought his heart had just grown wings to soar like an eagle.

"Lord Narcisse," when she repeated his name, it was like music. "The pleasure is all mine."

He offered her his hand, which she delicately took,and they made their way out onto the dance floor.

Even as they went, they parted crowds, both standing tall and magnificent in the middle of the room. She was truly beautiful, even more so when he was stood less than a foot away – her hair was golden, and her dress sparkled in the light as the room's candelabras and chandeliers flickered against the sapphires on her dress.

Everything else fell away for Narcisse again when they prepared to dance. He had her hands in the correct position, and in the brief moment before the music began, he found himself lost in her eyes.

Her light brown eyes with golden tones in it. Her eyes were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, and they held the promise of twice the adventure.

He was only brought back into the present with the swell of the music, and the subtle nudge with her foot that his partner gave him.

He thanked her and apologised for being caught up in the moment. But he thought that that had made him sound particularly inept and awkward, so he tried to be more casual.

"So...My'lady," he enjoyed the way his words rolled off his tongue when he was trying to be charming. "You don't look much like an insect."

He couldn't tell if the lady had raised her eyebrows beneath her mask, but from what she said next, he could only imagine that the answer was yes, she had.

"No, my lord – I do not," she replied. "It truly is amazing what a mask and a good dress can hide, isn't it?"

Narcisse huffed out a laugh and studied her in movement. She was clearly a natural dancer, with wonderful rhythm and flair for music.

She was educated and refined. Beautiful and a fashionable dresser. She had wit and intelligence...

She was perfect in every way.

Although seeing her there in front of him, movements as graceful and refined as a swan's, made it very hard for him to think that she could possibly be anything less than perfect.

He wanted to keep talking to her, which truly had been a rarity at that ball, and in his interactions with women previously. This one was simply remarkable to him, in every way.

He was determined to show her that he was serious, too.

"It fails to hide your beauty," he told her, not even a breath of it meant in meaningless, empty charm. "Though I suspect neither mask nor shadow could dim that light."

If he had seen her full face, he believed he would've seen her raising an eyebrow, or perhaps even both.

"You certainly are a bold one, my lord," she said. It was a measured response, but playful as well. "Bold enough to declare such a thing to every woman and girl here tonight, perhaps?"

Narcisse felt his own eyebrows raising beneath his mask. She was clearly teasing him for a chase. And it was a chase that he was prepared to win.

"I only speak the truth in my words, my lady. Empty compliments serve only a selfish purpose," he replied. "I would never call a lady beautiful if I found her otherwise, and there have been many...unique individuals in this room tonight."

That explanation didn't seem to satisfy the mysterious lady, who made a disbelieving noise.

"I'm sure there have been," her eyes looked about the room, trying to spot some of the others no doubt.

He knew exactly what she was doing. For some reason, it made him start to worry - what if she did think he might've liked another partner better? He knew he'd declare his intentions in her favour, but he did not want her mind plagued by doubt.

"You will not find anyone that I think is more beautiful than you," he said. "And none of them even half as witty or interesting."

Again, the lady appeared to give the impression that she was raising her eyebrows beneath her mask.

"Really…" she stated.

It came without even a hint of a question to it or the tone of flattered and joyous hope that a young maiden might have when she was desperately wishing that the best looking boy in the village really did love her in return. There was only amused sarcasm in her single word, and not a single sign that there was going to be anything else any time soon.

She still didn't believe him, and that made Lord Narcisse's stomach tighten. How could he make her see that he really was interested in her, and not just leading her on so that he could gain something from it? Or that he wasn't then going to say the same thing to someone else, and smooth talk his way through the night?

They needed to be alone. There were too many other people around that could make her doubt – too many other young ladies he had no intention of ever even speaking to again, once this night was over.

Luckily, he knew that the gardens would be open, and not off-limits. Couples often took walks there during balls, and he'd sometimes wandered out there in order to breathe in some fresh air when the heat of the room became too much...

And he felt like taking in the night air with this mysterious Lady.

"Really," he repeated, firmly and sincerely. "And I would certainly be happy to take a walk with you in the gardens, away from the noise, where we might hear each other better?"

He really and truly hoped that she would say yes and that what he'd just said hadn't sounded too much in her ears like a proposition. Countless bounders and cads had taken ladies into gardens for far less chaste and honourable intentions, and he didn't want her thinking that he was going to be one of those men, either.

Even though she would probably immediately think it. She'd immediately thought that he'd intended to use the same honeyed nothings on every woman in the room, dangling bait like he was fishing for them and triumphing when he landed them.

she had remained silent for some time, and that sent a spark of hope to his heart as he recognised the signs of her deliberation. She was wondering if she should go, what it could mean if she did (though he intended for nothing untoward to happen), and probably what it could mean if she decided not to go as well...

He couldn't help but try to convince a little more, even if he knew she was still unlikely to take his word into account.

"It is a lovely night out, and we would not go too far," he said. "I feel like we might be able to get to know each other better, away from the crowds."

"Away from prying eyes, too, conveniently enough," replied the mysterious Lady.

"My Lady, I assure you, my intentions are honourable!" exclaimed Narcisse, feeling himself starting to sweat – he'd never been bothered by women before! He'd never felt nervous or unsure around them before, and yet this mysterious lady's potential rejection was making him uneasy.

He unintentionally held his breath as the Lady considered his invitation, her silence stretching for well over a minute.

"Very well, then," the Lady eventually spoke, bringing their dance to an end and stepping away from him, "Lead the way, my Lord."

That lifted some of the worry (which had been creeping up on him even faster, as he waited), and he relaxed and silently let out his breath.

"With pleasure, my Lady," he gave a slight bow – which he thought must have made her roll her eyes yet again, beneath her mask – before taking her hand so that it rested on top of his, and leading her from the room in the direction of the gardens.

Their leaving hadn't gone unnoticed, though. Two sets of royal eyes had been following them the whole way, and the pair that belonged to King Henry were shining with some sort of jealousy. He knew who the mysterious lady behind the mask was, or he thought he knew at least. Her strawberry blonde hair color, her short but incredible beautiful figure, her eyes, he saw shinning through the mask when she looked at this man...Henry would've give anything if her eyes would shine like they did when she spoke and danced with this man. He still remembered those old days when he and Catherine danced through the whole night and her eyes were only shining for him this special way...back then when everything was good and when he didn't broke Catherine's heart ..back then when they weren't fighting all the time they saw each other, back then when she was happy to be with him and back then when he hadn't taken Diane back to court or any of those other lady's he slept with to make his ego feel better. He knew he couldn't go on with this. He couldn't live without her...his Catherine. He had to end things with Diane, he knew it would be hard because she was the mother of his son, Sebastian but if he wanted to make things work with Catherine he had to end all of those things including his long time mistress Diane.

Of course, that could also have been the presence of his companion. The mysterious lady was the most interesting person he'd had the pleasure of listening to and spending time with in...well, a very long time, indeed! She was the sharpest wit he'd ever come across, had the intellect to rival any learned scholar or tutor, and had beauty and grace to match both!

She really was everything a woman could be. And he was genuinely enjoying spending the time with her that they were now occupying - time he'd usually spend trying to ply a woman with enough compliments to get her to agree to come back to his chambers or to just lift up her skirts if they were too far away. And then, when he was done, he'd show them the door - either until the next time he needed a plaything, if they lived or worked around the palace, or forever if they didn't. He...liked her, no he loved her. As a person, not for what he could get from her (though he knew he'd be lying if the thought hadn't briefly crossed his mind). That wasn't something he'd ever thought about anybody before. Neither of them had said much since they'd left the ballroom, but the little talking that had been done had been commandeered by the mysterious Lady. He had hung onto her every word, listening intently to her wisdom about the different constellations that littered the night sky.

She was well versed in astronomy, it seemed. He'd never met a woman that knew about stars befo–

"Are you listening to me?!"

The lady's mildly exasperated comment brought him out of his contemplation. Had… had she asked him something? It clearly seemed like it, judging by the look she was giving him! Since when did he lose himself in thought when he was with a woman? He was an avid conqueror of women's hearts, for Christ's sake! Not some brainless poltroon!

"Pardon me, My'lady," he quickly replied, bowing to her, "I got lost in thought – you see, I was admiring your knowledge about stars."

"Is that so?" said the mysterious lady disbelievingly.

"Indeed, My'lady. I have never met such knowledgeable lady, astronomy-wise," he replied, "But then again, I have realised that, since you are an angel from Heaven yourself, it makes sense that you know the skies like the back of your delicate hand."

The Lady made a short, quiet, most certainly unimpressed noise in the back of her throat. It immediately told Narcisse that he might have gone too far with what he was saying, but he just hadn't been able to help himself.

But it had already done damage, in her eyes.

"I don't respond to honeyed words, sir," she told him, slipping her hand off his and looking as though she intended to walk away. "Particularly if I know they're hollow, and only intended for one purpose."

Narcisse felt his stomach tightening at her words and movements. Perhaps she meant to go back to the ballroom, and then she'd probably spend the rest of the evening avoiding him...

He wasn't simply being flattering for the sake of it. He often was, but he knew the difference and he knew that he truly meant what he'd said this time.

She wasn't some plaything, like the rest. He wanted her to know that he was being sincere, and saw beyond the body that he'd normally be focused on.

Though how he would do that, he wasn't quite sure.

Maybe...well, he'd never done this for a woman before, but...he could probably start with an apology, and then use that to lead into an explanation that he had been speaking the truth...

He had simply spoken too much truth, without even realising.

He had to think quick, at any rate — she was indeed turning her back on him, intending to return to the ballroom without him!

"Milady, wait!" he cried, rushing past her to block her way, "I...I am deeply sorry if I have offended you in any capacity. My words are true just like my heart it—"

"And how might I know your heart is true, my Lord?" she said, folding her arms over her chest. "Men don't give their hearts easily, and more often than not honeyed words and flattery are but mere illusions of love."

Narcisse felt himself deflate — what would it take for her to believe him?! He wanted to lay claim on this woman. He wanted her. She had to see!

But again, he had to think quickly. He was trading a paper-thin line, and he had a feeling grand gestures — those that would make most women swoon and throw themselves at his feet — would get him nowhere with her.

She wasn't like most women, and as such he couldn't rely on the seducing tactics he normally used.

He had to improvise.

"I know that, Milady," he said, giving a step closer to her and reaching out to hold her hand in his. "I don't blame you for not trusting adorned words. But know this — I have never offered my heart before. This is a...feeling I have never experienced before. My words are true, but if they have offended you, I beg you forgive a foolish man. I only thought they would be a way to convey just how...how much I—"

"Catherine" The voice halted him in his tracks and made the mysterious lady turn on her heel with a gasp. She turned in the direction of a figure hurrying faster than Narcisse had ever seen a man run to the garden Patha towards them, his face partially in shadow but mostly obscured by his mask.

The man definitely had to talk to this mysterious woman, wait did he call her Catherine? She was...Catherine de'Medici? Queen Catherine de'Medici of France? Narcisse couldn't believe it. After she cancelled their picnic, he hadn't thought of getting to talk to her ever again and yet here he was, standing next to her, he even danced with her and hold her hands... but something in her look changed as soon as she saw this man. Narcisse noticed it directly. Her eyes looked colder but there also was something else...was it hope? But for what Narcisse thought.

"Henry?!" she said with an colder voice but obviously surprised and confused by his presence. "What are you doing here?! Is something wrong?!"

So, this man was King Henry II...what was he doing here? Well it was his wife Narcisse had laid an eye on but since the King didn't seem to be interested in her, King Henry had taken countless mistresses since they both were only a few years in their marriage. But his main mistress he had since the early years of their marriage was Diane de Poitiers. She was a French noblewoman and prominent courtier. She wielded much power and influence as King Henry II's royal mistress and adviser and she was the one to give Henry his first son, Sebastian.

Narcisse still wondered why Henry was here now. He didn't seem to be angry...or anything like that. He rather seemed worried? But still Narcisse wasn't able to tell Catherine anything about what he felt for her, he never felt such a strong connection to a woman before and he didn't know how to deal with this sort of feelings he had for Catherine. He had to tell it to her and exactly in the moment he wanted to tell it to her, her husband came? What had god against him?

"Catherine...I...I need you" Henry said, his voice sounded slightly worried like he was afraid that she could reject anything he would tell her. "For what exactly do you need me?" Catherine asked, if she hadn't worn her mask you could've seen that she was raising an eyebrow. She was now walking more towards Henry.

"Can we talk about this in my chambers or anywhere where aren't so many people, anywhere where we both can be alone." Henry responded, he sounded more confident now but still not very confident at all. Catherine who was now more than surprised and confused turned towards Narcisse "I'm sorry" she told him, leaving Narcisse standing alone in the gardens.

He now watched the royal couple walking inside. Since they all had their masks on nobody seemed to notice that both, the king and the Queen of France left the ball. Narcisse decided to stay a couple of minutes outside and just wonder how this evening might have turned into if the king hadn't disturbed them.

Henry took Catherine's hand and even though she first wanted to protest, she still let him take her hand. They both now headed towards his chambers. Only a couple of minutes later they arrived at Henry's chambers and only then he let go of Catherine's soft hand. "So what do you want now?" Came Catherine's sharp question.

Henry took in a deep breath before he began.

"I'm sorry that I said that to you. You are not an...heartless woman...and it disgusts me that I ever even let those words out of my mouth. I just...I just got so angry and hurt after you went away after I asked you to stay."

"What else did you expect me to do?!" Catherine snapped, making an enormous effort to keep her voice level – the last thing she needed was to make a scene, especially when other people might or might not be within earshot. "It wasn't like you meant it!"

"Excuse me?" Henry said, snapping as well. "Whoever said I didn't mean it? Because I––"

"Spare me, will you?! Henry, I may be a lot of things, but I am not stupid," she snarled, "You and I were at war – openly at war. How did you expect me to believe that you loved me when you'd been treating me like shit since the first time we were together! Who let Diane or Kenna or all those other woman back into his bed?" She was shouting and you could hear her pain in her words.

Henry could physically feel the whiplash of her latter statement. So much that he found himself unconsciously gritting his teeth. He'd promised himself this wouldn't turn into an argument – . It had been years since he'd felt anger such as this burning in his chest. She had that effect on him; she made him want to rage and weep at the same time. She made him want to push her away and hold her close to him. She was a drug to him. An addiction. It had been so long, really, that many details regarding their time together were blurry. He didn't care much about that – who'd started the war and who'd ended it was unimportant; what he did know, though, was that he loved her and would do anything to win her heart back even though if it meant giving up all of his mistresses mainly Diane de Poitiers.

"I was so stupid to let anyone except you back into my bed. I've been caught up so much in my own misery and low self-esteem that i pushed it onto you, as well" he said now clearly sorry. What kind of a man was he, when he couldn't even keep that in check around the woman he cared about more than anybody?! What kind of man claimed to care about a woman, and then dropped her to treat her like garbage the moment anything went wrong?! He thought to himself.

It was making it hard for him to even speak, knowing now how badly everything had gone wrong, and it was all because of him.

"I...I really didn't mean to––"

"I don't care what you did or didn't mean to do!" Catherine snapped, her rage bursting through at last, even as tears began to fall. "The point is, you did it! Everything could've been different right now – everything! But it's not and we're here, all because of you, who couldn't bring himself to talk to me! And you can forget trying to talk now, because I'm done!"

She rushed pass him, the tears very obvious on her cheeks and in her eyes, and stormed towards the exit.

Henry tried to fling himself after her, reaching out with one hand as she passed.

"Catherine wait! I––"

The door slammed behind her, leaving him alone in the aftermath.

More alone than he'd ever felt before. She was right – he'd been the one to ruin it all. To take away the chance they'd had, all because he couldn't keep himself in check.

AN: I hope you liked this chapter. I tried best to write something acceptable, like I didn't really know how to write a good dancing or flirting scene and how to write a fighting scene but I hope you liked those parts anyway. Well I hoped you liked this chapter in general especially the catcisse part. And I hope I didn't break any hearts with the fight between Catherine and Henry, to be honest I nearly cried because I really love them a way too much and I get a way too attached to them :) but well feel free to leave a review and stay safe and healthy!