#IDIDN'TPROOFREADTHISBECAUSEI'VEBEENGONESOLONGANDIMSOSORRY
Chapter 9
It was the ticking of the clock in his room that kept Francis sane. It was hard to focus on the documents he was reading when Mary's words still echoed in his mind. He couldn't control the beating of his heart – it was both infuriating and depressing. He knew better not to heed on her words but it still pained him to hear them from her lips and it was incredibly silly for him to expect her to still love him after what he did. But what hurt him the most was the inkling on his mind of what might have happened last night.
He opened one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out an old photo of him and Mary – the two of them on the kitchen island with red apples surrounding them. They were probably nine or ten – Mary's braces stood to defend his guess. She looked hilarious with them but Francis thought it was cute.
"Mary Stuart, you're driving me crazy." He said to himself as he looked at the photo.
"You're the good apple!" A ten year old Francis Valois said to a nine year old Mary Stuart. Both of them in the kitchen of the Valois household – going through the drawers and cabinets trying to find sweets – but unfortunately, only finding a basket of apples. Catherine must have told the servants to hide the candy from them.
"Why?" Mary asked in her little voice. A frown was on her sweet face because of her new braces – she hated them.
"Because you're always in the middle." He explained picking up the red apple in the middle. "Everyone knows that the good apple is always in the middle of the basket. You're always in the middle of everything. Even in pictures, you're always in the middle of your parents."
"Not true!" It was true. "And besides, you can place anything in the middle but that doesn't make them the good one."
"You have such strong opinions for a girl." Francis rolled his eyes.
"And so?" She asked. Both of their mothers had strong opinions.
"Father says girls shouldn't have strong opinions." He answered so simply that it baffled Mary.
Before Mary could say anything, a twelve year old Louis came into the kitchen with his new camera. He carried it everywhere since he got it for Christmas. He snapped a photo of them before saying anything. The kitchen was a mess and he was scared at the thought of what might Catherine's reaction would be.
"What are you doing?" He asked. It was one of those rare days that Louis was at the Valois house.
"Hey!" Mary yelled. "You can't take our picture without our permission!"
The next scenes were a blur to Francis now. It was both nostalgic and annoying reminiscing those simple times but when he came to think about it, his life was never simple. He was a Valois and Valois' were never simple.
"I'm going back to Scotland." Mary told to Jem. It was a statement, not a request. "It's Lola's birthday in a few days and I want to be there."
Jem looked up from his phone and raised an eyebrow at his sister. Her face was serious; trying to hide the feeling of rage pent up inside of her after reading the documents Bash gave to her last night.
"Mary, father said we need to stay here to finalize things with the Valois." Jem said.
"You can do it yourself." She knew that wasn't the reply her brother wanted to hear or even expect to hear. This was strange for her. She was never one to defy their father. "And besides, I'll probably be living in France after I marry Francis."
Her tone was bitter and Jem didn't know if he should sympathy for her.
"Mary –"
"I'll fly home tomorrow," Mary said, sternly. She was going to take control in all aspects in her life. At least she would try to. "I've already made arrangements."
Jem looked surprised at that, "Okay." He replied after a moment of consideration. "Okay but Francis will come with you."
"What?" The look of shock on Mary's face almost made him break into a smile.
"You'll take Francis with you back to Scotland," He explained, "It will give you two time to bond."
"But…" She was grasping for words. "Francis will never agree! He won't want to come with me."
He smirked and it made Mary want to pick up Jem's phone and smash it into a million pieces.
"Not if Henry agrees." He smiled.
"What are you planning?" Mary asked; if she knew one thing about her brother was that he was just like their father – however, unlike their father, Jem had a heart – although, she was starting to question that now.
"Nothing." She could sense the lie in his words. "If you want to attend your friend's party, then go. But you have to take Francis with you. It's a good idea and I'm sure Henry and our father will agree. It's good for our business."
"How?" She hated the feeling of curiosity running through her mind.
"You two are getting married," Those words still felt surreal to her. "And you can't just get married out of the blue. You two need to be seen in public. It's basic PR."
"But–"
"No 'buts', I'll talk to Henry and I'm confident that he'll agree." Jem said.
Mary was speechless. When did Jem turn into a heartless businessman who only cared for the company? When did he turn into a manipulative person? When did he become this cold towards Mary? When did he turn into their father?
"I know about the takeover!" She suddenly, Jem looked surprised.
"What?" He asked, standing from his position.
Mary searched his face for even just a trace of confusion of what takeover she was taking about, but the only look on his face was shock. Shock of how she could possibly knew.
"You knew didn't you?" She asked, anger in her voice. "How could you possibly agree to this?"
"Mary, you don't know what you're saying," He tried to calm her down.
"I know enough!" She contradicted. She couldn't fathom the idea of all the hard work her family has put into building their company, and just giving it away. "When Francis and I get married, the Stuart enterprise will be given to the Valois'. Why? Answer me!"
"Lower your voice!" Jem tried to hush her. "You know nothing. If you want to discuss this more, then talk to father. Don't yell at me. I'm still your older brother."
Mary stormed out of Jem's room and ran into her room. No. Not her room. She got used to calling it her room, but it was still the Valois' house and she was just a guest. She walked up to a wall and her fists hit the wall with all of her pent up rage and desperation. She started to get all of her clothes and her luggage bag.
The afternoon sun passed through the window as she was packed her bags to fly back to Scotland. The thought of Francis going with her was still ridiculous but her brother did have a point. They needed to look like a real couple before they can get married, so it wouldn't look like a heartless arrangement set by their fathers.
The knock on her door made her stop folding her clothes. Why did she bring so many in the first place?
"I heard I'm going to Scotland." Francis said, with a half- hearted attempt at a fake smile.
"How could you possibly know that so quickly?" Mary asked, astonished.
"This is a large house, but the walls are rather thin." He explained. "I heard you and Jem talking."
"So, you probably heard about the handing over of our company to yours?" She asked. She was still avoiding his stare.
"Yes," He answered, "I can't say I knew about it. Trust me, I didn't."
"But do you want it?" She inquired. A man like him who grew up in a world of power, surely wanted more of it.
"No." He answered but with some hesitation. The Stuart enterprise could be good for the Valois cooperation but he didn't want it at the expense of Mary. He cared for Mary too much.
Mary didn't say anything after that. The hesitation in his answer was enough for her to decide that Francis agree to it.
The stillness in the air was agony to Francis.
"So, I'm going to Scotland?" He tried to change the topic but with the furrow of Mary's eyebrows, he knew it was a lost cost.
"Unfortunately." Mary answered, not looking at him. She continued with her packing. Maybe not such a lost cost, after all. "It's Lola's birthday and Kenna planned a party."
Francis recalled Mary's friends. They used to be called "The Four Mary's" because they copied everything Mary did growing up. They looked up to her and Francis thought it was creepy. It still was but now, everyone seemed to have established their own personalities and traits.
"Also with Greer, I assume?" Mary looked surprise that he still remembered her name.
"Yes, and with Aylee." She answered, quickening her pace. She wanted to be with her friends!
"How's Aylee?" Francis asked, trying to make conversation with her. "Still sickly as ever?"
It was a joke but by the way Mary stopped in her tracks and looked at him, it seemed like he struck a nerve.
"She has cancer, Francis" Mary replied and Francis suddenly wanted to staple his mouth shut.
Francis didn't know what to say next. What could he say?
Aylee always seemed so nice but so weak. She didn't deserve to have cancer.
"I'm sorry." He replied.
"Don't be." She said, clearing her throat before returning to her luggage. "She was always so sick. We just didn't know how sick."
"Mary –" He tried to step closer to her, maybe put a comforting hand on her shoulder but she stepped away.
"Francis, please. Not now." She said, the topic of Aylee made her eyes water. "I'm almost finish packing. You should start now, we leave tomorrow morning."
"Okay." Francis said, stepping backward and putting his hands behind his back. His Mary wanted distance, he was going to give it to her. She deserved it. "I'll go."
Before Francis could reach the door, Mary opened her mouth.
"Why do you let your father control you?" She asked, his back turned to her. "You weren't like that when we were young. What changed?"
"I don't let father control me," He answered, still facing the door. "I don't do thing I don't want to do."
"But you're marrying me; you're going to Scotland with me." Mary counted, "You can't possibly want that."
"You're so stupid." Francis laughed and turned to face her. "How many times do I have to tell that I do want this? I want you!"
Mary swallowed and scrambled her mind for a reply. She knew this. Somehow, deep in her mind – even with the countless times she tried to convince herself – he wanted her and she wanted him.
A/N: Hello
I HATE MY WRITING BECAUSE TOO MUCH ANGST.
I'll try to include fluff in the next chapter.
I've been gone so long and I'm so sorry for only now updating but...damn.
School. Just. School.
Sneak Peak:"I'm tired of trying to be perfect. I'm going to make mistakes!" She screamed with sadness. "And I am not perfect. Why can't you just accept that?"
Hey Hey Hey.
So, who do you think said that line?
REVIEW!
