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BlerBlerBler [chapter 36]: Yes, Kenna is going to do her bit to save France ;)
Guest (1) [chapter 36]: Sorry for the delay! Revising for my exams is stressful, haha. Yes, Bash is an amazing, supportive older brother and Francis is very lucky to have such a loyal family. Partly. Yes, a standing ovation for Kenna!
Guest (2) [chapter 36]: Here's the next chapter! :) The Frary story is almost here! 2nd November!
Mary jumped when she felt a hand on her knee, her head turning to Rose. "Darling, you should be asleep."
"Mama, why didn't we say 'goodbye' to Papa?" Rose asked, her eyes wet with tears.
"Does he not love us anymore?" Anne added, eyes wide as she hugged her teddy tightly.
Mary sniffled, her tears long since dried. "Papa loves you all very dearly. You see he wants us to be safe so we have to go back to Scotland."
"At least you have your mama," Robin piped up. "Mine came and left before she said 'goodbye' to me."
Mary leaned forward and brushed a finger over his cheek. "Your parents love you so much, don't doubt that. There's something we have to do in order to restore peace and happiness in France. It will take patience, but it will be worth it. Just know, whatever happens, the four of us love you all very much."
Mary leant back on her seat, her eyes turning to the dark sky above. They had completely diverted from Avon, hearing that a few Navarre supporters were on the path to Avon. She knew that they would probably burn the de Poitiers' lands down, Antoine's vengeance going deeper than a broken heart from a former king's mistress and the same king's bastard son's wife.
"We will all be reunited very soon," Mary promised the children.
"Will we really, Aunt Mary?" Robin asked with Anne resting her head on his shoulder as her own eyes met her mother's own.
Mary nodded, smiling brightly. "We will see them all very soon. But for now, we'll have a wonderful adventure in Scotland. Robin, you will see your sister and we can make all the strawberry and lemon tarts we can!"
The Scottish Queen then turned her head away from them as her tears returned and her teeth dug into her bottom lip, trying to stop herself from letting out a sob in front of the children and alarming them.
She wasn't sure if she believed that they will be reunited soon herself.
...
"How far are Navarre's army?" Francis asked Leith as he paced his bedchamber.
He hadn't been able to sleep. It had been a week now, no word from Mary, Kenna or any of their other supporters. Kenna had told him patience, but Francis was never one for that, nor was Bash who was itching for his sword to draw blood again, his bloodthirst unquenchable. He wanted to get this over and done with so he could have his wife back in his arms and far away from Antoine.
"They have been delayed."
"Delayed by what?" Bash asked.
Leith shrugged. "I don't know. I couldn't get more information out of the guard I managed to infiltrate. I doubt Navarre knows my face, he shouldn't be suspicious if I wear his coat of arms and stand with his soldiers."
"He isn't that stupid, unfortunately," Bash said. "He remembered every face from when I killed Marcus. It just so happened to be that my face was the one he wanted for all of these years."
"So, no playing 'pretend'," Leith muttered. "What happens when they get through the gates?"
"We submit-"
"Submit?" Leith asked, turning to Francis. "I was thinking that we would be fighting. Fighting with all we got, fighting for France to remain in the hands of a Valois."
Francis sighed heavily, groaning loudly. "I will explain this quickly. We have a plan-"
"A vague plan," Bash cut in.
"A vague plan," Francis reiterated. I do not know much nor does Bash, but we have to trust the Scots," Francis said.
"I thought trusting the Scots was what got us into this mess?" Leith asked lightly. "Sorry, was that too soon?"
"Way too soon," Bash snapped, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, I am guessing that your brief moment with Lady Kenna wasn't enough?"
Bash looked up and glared at Leith. "If the next thing that comes out of your mouth isn't helpful-"
"Let's stop fighting, shall we?" Francis cut in, sitting down. "We just have to be patient. Let the course run itself out and trust in the Scottish and English to come through with their word."
"In other words, trust that my wife beds my worst enemy successfully?" Bash asked, covering his face. "It's already destroyed our marriage once, what's to say that it won't this time?"
Francis shrugged. "All I know is that Kenna loves you. As she was losing the baby," he began, watching Bash wince. "All she talked about was you and how much she wanted you and no one else. She was willing to bleed out and die if not for the idea of you wanting to hear her out. She told me that you were the only one she loved, that no one would ever be you and she wouldn't want them. Only you."
"It was her idea."
"And she is willing to do this for France. She has no obligation to me, but because you are my brother and you love me, she is willing to do this for me," Francis told him. "Not even for Mary. They have an independent Scotland, their ties with France are broken if not for our marriage and the children. You, Bash. You are the reason she is doing this."
Bash nodded slowly. "I pray that it happens quickly because I can't live without her. And you can't live without Mary. If we escaped now, what would happen?"
"I'd live out my days in Scotland with my family at Linlithgow Palace. You, Kenna and the children at Castle Barton or your own lands somewhere else... I will stand by Mary's side as King Consort. I mean, who even needs France, am I right?"
Leith laughed wryly. "It has been an honour to serve you, my king. I will do so until my dying breath-"
"No, let's not do that. Sit down, let's drink and let's celebrate what is probably our last moments together," Francis said, gesturing for him to take a seat.
"Well, if my king wills it..."
...
It felt like a hundred years ago that she was happy with Bash and their children. It had been a few weeks since she left him and his brother by the roaring fire, tears slipping down her cheeks the moment she closed the door behind her.
She was showing signs of pregnancy, taking some herbs that Nostradamus gave her after confirming it to stop the sickness. He had later left to catch up with Mary and the children, and go to Scotland with them - Catherine having long since gone. Nostradamus was still an important trusted member of Court. Francis's Court.
Kenna needed her pregnancy to be a secret, she also needed to bed Antoine quickly as to not raise his suspicions of an early baby. She felt sick, for so many reasons. Most of all, for being in his presence again, after the last time he had ruined her marriage and fooled her. Left her crying sad tears as her husband moved his belongings out of their shared bedchamber, but requested that they remain married on paper as to protect her. That had given her hope, marriage couldn't be undone easily.
"I made a mistake," Kenna said, surrounded by guards as Antoine finally made an appearance.
She looked around. It was an ornate whorehouse of some kind, she obviously knew of his desires for places such as these from the first time she met the man. It repulsed her, but she kept her calm and feigned tears.
"Bash... He wasn't the man I thought he would be, you were right," she told him, taking a step towards him to cup his cheek.
She jumped, guards ready to strike her down as Antoine crossed his arms inquisitively. She watched him study her, try and suss her out as he cooly made his way towards her.
"Why are you really here, Duchess?" He asked boredly.
"I am here to take what is rightfully mine," she replied matter-of-factly. "You."
Antoine smiled a little. "Me?"
"Yes, you. You asked me to be your queen once and I know of your annulment to Jeanne. Luckily for you, you managed to keep Navarre due to some secret clause," Kenna explained. "I applaud that and I approve."
"You want to be my queen?"
"I do. I really do. Bash could never give me what you offered to me that day. I am stupid for even believing so-"
"You returned to him, bore his children-"
"And I saw him make love to other women that weren't me! Love other women that weren't me," Kenna cried out, her fake tears becoming uncontrollable. When did she become such a good liar? She seemed to believe herself. "He used me to bear his heirs and nothing more. I meant nothing to him and now my children... I will never see them again because of him."
Antoine sighed, coming over to cup her cheeks. "Don't cry, Kenna. I am glad you saw the truth before it was too late. I can't make you queen though."
"What? That is what I want!" Kenna snapped angrily, pushing him away from her a little. "I don't want a lowly title of duchess. The duchess of what? A man who whores around all day and leaves me days on end with our children? He isn't worth it, he isn't you."
She then leaned forward and placed a hand on his cheek, softly kissing his lips. She felt the urge to throw up, but she blinked back tears, staring at his closed eyes as their mouths moulded together.
She quickly closed her eyes and he pulled away first to say, "Every king needs a mistress or two. I heard that you are perfect for the role."
Kenna mentally cursed. "I'll take it," she breathily said, knowing she could full well change that. "I should have given you myself the moment you kissed me. Maybe I wouldn't hurt so much standing here like I am some stupid child who knew no better. Maybe, I'd be your wife and we'd have a family by now."
"Kenna, Bash doesn't know what he's lost. You will be happy with me, I swear it and I will personally reclaim your children for you-"
"That is not needed," Kenna cut him off, wrapping an arm around his waist and looking up at him through her lashes. "Not when I'll have your children..." She trailed her fingers up his chest, batting her eyelashes. "Every king needs a few bastards or ten. I want to bear something that shows our love."
"We will see," Antoine told her, turning to his guards. "Make sure she is comfortable. If she isn't, I will have one of your fingers."
Kenna frowned but quickly masked it with happiness when his lips met hers again. She couldn't believe it worked, but the idea of having to kiss him, hug him and do all the things she should be doing with Bash repulsed her deeply. She kept mentally apologising to her beloved husband, hoping that this will not take as long as it would.
She felt her skin crawl and her lips burn as she pushed down her nausea and followed after his guards.
Oh, dear God...
...
Claude groaned, rubbing her growing bump. She was three months near her due day and she felt restricted. But not that restricted that she couldn't get up to use the chamber pot.
In annoyance after not receiving any word to help her, she got up herself and headed towards the chamber room where her husband's offices were right beside it. She had to relieve herself quickly.
Finally sitting down with a sigh of relief, she frowned when she heard her husband speak in hushed tones.
Finishing up in the chamber room, she quietly made her way to the door and pressed her ear against it.
"If Navarre needs my help, he needs to promise me something," her husband said.
"And what may that be, Luc?"
"Francis Valois's head. He killed my father, his wife killed my brother. They were innocent-"
"Not as innocent as you thought, but yes. You will have your wish eventually, but for now we must get into French Court and influence the nobles," the man replied. "Your father was one of the main figures in French Court. At times he sided with the Valoises. Where is your place?"
"With the Bourbons," Luc said firmly.
"Even if your wife is a Valois herself?"
Luc scoffed. "She is a Narcisse now. The child inside her is a Narcisse. It may have Valois blood, but they will be Narcisses until their dying breaths. Leave my home, now."
"Gladly. Make sure you are at Court in three days."
"Why?"
"That is when we will arrest Francis Valois for failing France and losing Scotland, along with his bastard brother, Sebastian de Poitiers. Seems like we'll have both of Henry Valois's favourite sons' heads," the man said matter-of-factly. "Sleep well. Do send your wife my regards. I hope you won't let her in on the fact that it was her who led to her niece and nephew's kidnapping."
"Don't you say anything-"
"I am sure she would love to know that the letters she wrote to her beloved brothers, Francis and Sebastian, were read and that you gave all of that information to us before sending it off," the man continued, cutting Luc off. "We have things over you, choose wisely on whose side you are on."
Luc cursed. "You know whose side I am on!" He roared.
"Tut, tut, tut," the man taunted. "I am just checking. Goodnight, Narcisse."
Claude hurried back into their bed as quick as she could, just getting in time for Luc to come inside. She opened her eyes and turned to him, smiling softly as she invited him over.
The thought of touching him disgusted her, after what she had learnt but in order for her and her child to live, she needed to pretend. She hoped that her brothers would forgive her as well as their wives.
"Husband," she greeted him. "It is late, come and sleep."
"I will, soon," Luc replied, strained as he played with her hair. "How is the baby?"
Claude blinked. "It is fine. I hate being with child, but I love our child."
"I do too. Claude, I am so sorry."
"For what?"
"Not being around as much as I'd like to. You are carrying my child and I am leaving you unattended," Luc said, kissing her cheek. "Very soon, that will change and we will be able to get whatever we want when we want it."
Claude shivered and she played it off. "It is awfully cold, my darling. Can you-"
"Oh, of course! I will close the windows," he said, getting off the bed to head to the windows. "I love you, Claude."
No, you don't, she thought bitterly. Otherwise, you wouldn't be planning to kill my brothers and confess to aiding in kidnapping their children. I swear, you will not see this child and you will die right by your father's shallow grave.
She smiled, kissing his lips when he returned to her side. "I love you too, Luc."
...
Three days later, Duke Beaton blended with the nobles, waiting for the moment when everything was going to change. He had felt breathless, fearful of his daughter's plan and hopeful that Mary had travelled safely with the children to Scotland.
An English soldier disguised as a French guard had managed to update him, Mary had gone three out of ten checkpoints so far with no worries with the children. It was too delayed and he hoped that his queen hadn't been delaying her journey purposefully.
"I wonder what is going on," a noblewoman said to her husband. "The King requested for an announcement."
"I hope it is that his stupid queen gave back Scotland," her husband replied. "I knew he should never have married her. A good Frenchwoman would have been better or even a German!"
Duke Beaton resisted the urge to roll his eyes, planting a fake smile at the couple. "Excuse me, pardon my intrusion. I heard that you are inquisitive of the King's audience request?"
"Yes," the man said. "And you are?"
"Matthias," Beaton said, shaking the man's hand. "Emmanuel Matthias."
"Oh," the wife said flirtily. "A Swede?"
Beaton nodded. "I had come in the hopes of different scenery. I invest in the timber trade."
"Timber is a good trade. I might have to talk more about that with you," the man replied, seeing Francis enter with Bash and Leith behind him and a few guards.
Robert frowned deeply. Despite the neutral look on Francis's face, he could clearly see the tiredness, worry and fear in his eyes. He hoped that he was the only one to see that, especially as his son-in-law gave his brother a comforting glance quickly when they turned to face the crowd.
"I know most of you are not happy with recent events. My wife has taken a trip to Sweden on business matters on my behalf," Francis announced. "I asked that she go to Sweden in my place so I can assure you about Scotland."
"I swear..." The noblewoman muttered. "If he says one false lie-"
"Scotland is and will remain independent from France," Francis announced, somewhat quiet.
Outcry and uproar filled the room, Francis visibly flinching and paling.
"It is for a good cause! For harmony, for stronger allies," he tried to explain. "England-"
"Down with the Scots! Down with the Valoises! Weak, the lot of them!"
Bash placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to move forward but he was stopped by Francis who shook his head, They couldn't fight, nor defend themselves.
The room was silenced by the sound of a single person applauding as they entered the room with a smirk.
"Oh dear, what have you got yourself into, Your Majesty?" Antoine asked, folding his hands behind his back. "I think it is time for a change. Do you all think so too?"
"Yes!"
"I do!"
"What is it? Is it losing another throne or what?"
Antoine shrugged, raising his hands up in defence. "For years, the Valois family have looked down on us as if we were the scum of the Earth. Today, that changes. Today, everyone... is the end of their reign."