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Guest (1) [chapter 39]: Mary and the children will be in France ;)
Guest (2) [chapter 39]: He is ;(
Guest (3) [chapter 39]: I can't either ;( His hope is going as the days pass by and even at this point, no one can convince him otherwise. And they would be so terrible, almost unrecognisable!
Guest (4) [chapter 39]: The first part is for you ;(
This is a long chapter because I think we all deserve it after everything. I am leaving some parts for the next chapter though.
Quick thing, the twins were born on the first of April. It is explained below as Mary was meant to have them mid-March.
Mary looked up to see one of the doors to her bedchamber open. She knew what that meant - children never had the need to ask permission before entering any room. She ought to teach them some manners, especially as her patience was running thin these days.
"Mama?" Anne whispered, her red eyes landing on the bed. "Is the baby here?"
Mary sighed, she couldn't let them wait. "Come in, all of you."
Anne led the pack, Rose was tiptoeing for some reason behind her sister with Robin behind her, closing the door behind them. Their eyes landed on two cots and their eyes widened, Mary's lips quirking upwards as they did the maths in their little brains.
"Two?" Anne cried out. "You promised one!"
"I got more than I bargained for," Mary told them lightly, reaching over to cup her daughters' cheeks. "Papa and I do not love you and James any less."
Rose stepped out of her touch, tears slipping down her cheeks as she looked at one of the sleeping babies. "I miss him."
"We both do," Anne said, hugging her sister tightly. "You never see us, Mama. Papa always made time for us in France. Why isn't he here with us?"
"He is very busy and he told us that we should go back to Scotland for a while, just so he can focus on what's going on in France. He loves you all very much," Mary replied. "You girls are such a good distraction that he literally needs to be a country apart to make sure that France is getting the attention she deserves. But soon, we'll be reunited."
Her eyes met Robin's and she faltered. The boy didn't seem to believe her one bit. In fact, he silently walked over to his cousins and assured them himself. It stung Mary. Did Robin blame her? She blamed herself, she was only trying to do what was right for her country. At times, she was sick of France and everything they took from Scotland and now, her people hated her husband and his own people despised him in turn.
"Robin?" She called out.
"Are they girls or boys or one of each?" His voice asked her, his eyes flickering to her eyes.
Mary smiled a little. "Boys. Twin boys, children. Do you have any name suggestions? I'd like to wait for Papa but we could consider one of your options."
Mary was taken back when Anne glared at her. Her daughter had never acted in such a way, her annoyance playful or arguments light. Mary's mouth opened to scold her for her behaviour, but she found that she couldn't. She clamped her mouth shut and turned away, tears stinging her eyes.
"Come, Rose and Robin. I'm sick of seeing these new babies and Mama's lies," Anne said, huffing as she more or less stomped her way out.
"She misses Papa," Rose told their mother quietly, getting on the bed to hug her tightly. "I'm sorry, Mama."
Mary nodded, closing her eyes as she felt her daughter's warm embrace. "We all miss Papa, don't worry. And your aunt and uncle, of course."
Her eyes opened and she noted that Robin had gone after Anne. Sighing heavily, she continued to hold her second child tightly, thankful for the comfort from the likeness of her husband. If it wasn't Francis, Rose would suffice for now, not that she needed to be sufficed.
"You're just like your father," Mary whispered into Rose's hair. "So strong, resilient, caring and understanding."
She hoped that Francis would be understanding. Her diary entry for the day was full of wet splotches and promises.
'...I profusely apologise, my love. Nothing can ever make up for what I did to you and our family... Scotland is yours... Forgive me... We'll be a family once again, very soon... I love you, Francis. I miss you. I need you... It's all my fault... I loathe myself-'
The governess had come inside when she got to the last line and then Nostradamus had followed after, to check up on the Scottish Queen and her new babies. She quickly closed the diary and kept it on her person until they left and she sobbed over it.
"I want Papa back. It's been too long since we have seen him!" Rose told her, pulling away to meet her eyes. "He missed Christmas! He never misses Christmas! And James and Ana's first birthdays! Mama, I... want to go home."
"Rose-"
"Scotland is not our home! France is! We are not Scottish, we are French," Rose snapped.
Mary gasped. Her daughter had just renounced her Scottish side. Mary could definitely tell that Rose was Francis's daughter, Beneath the tender-heart, was extreme wrath of anger beneath it. They could easily turn, some mistaking kindness for impatience. It scared the queen, her heart, breaking even more.
"Rose-"
"You are the queen! You can take us back home!"
Mary blinked. "I-I can't."
"Then, I hate you!" Rose screamed at her, getting off the bed and running out the door, forgoing closing it behind her.
Mary covered her mouth in shock. She couldn't believe her ears. Those blue eyes staring at her as they said those horrid words.
Rose ran, heading to her sister's bedchamber. She found Anne and Robin crying on the bed and she walked up to them, head held up firmly.
"Pack some clothes. We are going home," she announced.
"Did Mama-"
"We're escaping, Anne," Rose told them. "Be quick! Before the sky goes dark."
Robin frowned. "How would we get home?"
"We have our ponies and horse," Rose said. "You know your way around these woods, you can lead us to the sea and then we'll sneak onto a boat that goes to France. We will see our papas and your mama, Robin!"
Robin nodded. "I'll get some food!"
"Good. Now we will meet back here in an hour."
...
"You shouldn't have done that," Francis breathed out, cleaning up his brother's wound as best as he could. "I could have taken it."
Bash chuckled wryly. "You? You're practically all skin and bones. I've actually learnt how to survive without the lack of decent sustenance," he replied, letting out a groan. "Haven't learnt how to stop feeling the pain though."
"I thought you would. After Delphine..." Francis said, trailing off. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bring her up."
Leith got up from his seat and took over in patching Bash up. "I love how they gave us supplies to tend to the wound they caused!"
Francis laughed a somewhat genuine laugh. "Seriously?"
"Was that sarcastic enough?" Leith asked, coughing slightly.
"Dripping," Bash mumbled. "I'm scared."
"What?" Leith asked him. "You? You've been at death's door many times-"
"When I was childless," Bash replied, turning to Francis. "Do you think we will see them again?"
Francis sighed. "Here I thought you were the optimistic one."
"Sometimes I'm mistaken," Bash whispered. "Seeing Kenna... it made me believe that sometimes things don't always go to plan."
"Bash-"
"She lied to me."
"What?" Leith frowned. "When?"
Bash rubbed his face weakly. "I asked her if Antoine hurt her. Her reply was... it unnerved me. It was short and she moved on quickly. I am not sure if she did that to stop me from trying to escape to help her or to protect me from realising just how deep she is into this."
"She seemed well cared for," Francis assured him. "I doubt Antoine would dare try and hurt the mother of his supposed heir."
"That didn't stop our father," Bash replied tiredly. "I'm awfully tired."
Francis patted his cheek gently. "Stay awake. The wound is probably infected."
"Who thinks help to save him would be hurried?" Leith asked. "No? I don't think so either. They don't care if Bash dies here or on the block - he's not important."
"Thanks," Bash replied.
Leith chuckled. "I mean you are, just not to the people. Their dear usurper, no tears would be shed from them. Life in Scotland would suit you."
Francis swallowed deeply. "I should have pressed harder for you to go to Scotland," he said. "You wouldn't be here, bleeding out."
"It's not that bad," Bash told him. "I've been through worse. A lot worse."
"And there's your optimism," Leith said lightly.
"Remember the lake in Scotland?" Francis asked, pulling brother to rest on his chest. "Mary was frightened of letting James come into the water. But he loved it. And the girls and boys... We were a family, perfect and happy."
Bash laughed. "That damned book. I think Kenna has it stored somewhere where the children cannot get to it. I hate to think of what they saw."
"What book is this?" Leith asked.
"The sex book."
Leith nodded. "Oh, many men wondered where that book went."
"Were you one of them?" Francis asked, knowingly.
Leith coughed. "Do you really want to know what your sister and I did?"
"Dear God, no," Francis replied with a groan of displeasure.
They looked towards the door when it opened and saw Kenna, holding more supplies. Her eyes widened when she saw her husband and she quickly rushed to their side, looking at the other men for an explanation.
"A guard got a bit too rough on Francis," Leith told her. "Big brother went to save him."
"I didn't need saving," Francis whispered lightly.
"Well, I figured that you would be mistreated," Kenna said quietly. "The guards change around the clock. I only come when they are Italian."
She got to work, pressing a quick kiss on Bash's head before tending to his wound. It didn't faze her, she couldn't let it. Her anger towards Antoine was already enough to not get herself killed.
"I see Claude," she told them. "It wasn't her fault that the children were taken, you do know that?"
Francis nodded stiffly. "I sometimes forget the woman's place in the household. She must have been scared of him."
"Well, their marriage was arranged," Kenna stated. "Perhaps if it was forced, they would have got on better."
Bash laughed and she giggled, brushing some grime of his cheek. She missed him and he missed her. Sadly, they couldn't be alone and Kenna didn't want to tempt things.
"I heard back from Mary," she continued. "She had twins. Boys. Nameless until their father sees them."
"What?" Francis breathed out. "Was she alone?"
"Not at all," Kenna said. "Also, the children were spotted escaping the castle grounds. Our son, Bash, is very mischievous."
"Why were they leaving?" Bash asked.
Kenna smiled sadly. "They miss us," she said. turning to Francis. "Mary's coming with them. Apparently, Rose said some hurtful things to her."
"Am I wrong to have no sympathy for her whatsoever?" Francis asked quietly.
Kenna looked down, finishing up with the stab wound. "Francis, deep down you love Mary. I know her loyalty to you is tested, but we are winning. Our forces are discreetly placed around and when they come, it will all be over and we will be home. A big, happy family as we've always been."
Francis placed a hand on her shoulder and she jumped, wincing. The three men turned to her and she waved it off, handing them the other things she brought them.
"Blankets," she quickly said before someone could question her. "Before our guards leave, they will take it so as to not raise any suspicion. Lucky for you, they are here through the night."
She got up with Francis's help and she hugged him.
"Look after him for me, will you?" She whispered into his ear. "I have to go now."
She pulled back and looked down at Bash. She gave him a wide smile, hoping that it was hopeful and reassuring at least.
"I love you," Kenna told him.
"I love you too," Bash replied easily. It felt like years since he said that but it had only been months. "Kenna-"
"My lady, Navarre has returned," the guard quickly told her.
Kenna gasped and she blew a kiss to her husband, hurrying out as fast as she could. She felt a twinge in her heart and she stopped herself from crying. She hated all the times she had to leave them, their eyes losing all hope once again.
She cursed.
Only a few more days.
...
Kenna got into the bed and sighed heavily, planting on a smile when Antoine entered and walked straight up to her. She raised her chin, 'begging' for a kiss and he accepted her wish, placing his cold lips on her warm ones.
"Why are your lips so cold?"
"You don't need to know-"
"Did you go to the whorehouse?"
Antoine narrowed his eyes. "And that is your concern, why?"
Kenna feigned anger. "My last husband, if you remember, left me for those whores."
Antoine tutted, sitting down by her legs and taking her hands in his. "You don't need to worry about any whore. The only one I prefer is you."
That stung Kenna and she blinked back tears. The only times she could escape her reputation were at her own lands, Avon and her father's lands in Scotland. She knew that Antoine knew it struck a chord in her and she played it off.
"I was thinking about sourcing more materials for my dress in Finland. The baby grows, I need more fitting designs."
"You leave this bedchamber at the most peculiar of times, Kenna," Antoine stated, ignoring her words. "Why is that?"
Kenna swallowed deeply. "I visit Claude."
"Why?"
"To let her know how her child is doing," Kenna mumbled. "I am a mother, myself. I am separated from my son and daughter, I missed my daughter's first birthday. I just wanted to take her mind off her imprisonment. I'm sorry."
Antoine cupped her cheek, his other hand gripping her neck tightly. "Your compassion surprises me. Your son was kidnapped because of her."
"Who ordered his kidnapping in the first place?" Kenna snapped.
She cried out when he squeezed her neck even tighter and said, "That was a warning. He wasn't meant to get hurt."
"I-I b-believe you," Kenna croaked out, breathing heavily when his grip slackened.
"Make those visits stop, Kenna," Antoine told her, getting up. "I wouldn't want to kill the mother of my child, would I now?"
Tears ran down her cheeks and she nodded, already mentally cursing the bruise that would form on her skin once again. At least it wasn't as bad as the ones on her arm and shoulder.
"Rest. You do not want to distress the baby," he told her, tucking her in and placing a kiss on her head. "There is something I need to do."
...
Claude looked up when the door opened and she shielded her eyes from the sudden light. She gasped when she saw Antoine with Luc right behind him. Her husband seemed to be unsettled, looking everywhere but her.
"What do you pathetic monsters want?" She asked angrily, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. "Your guards have already mishandled me enough today."
"Kenna de Poitiers," Antoine said simply. "What does she tell you?"
Claude froze. "Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Well, she talks about our children," Claude partially lied. "I begged to see her so she could tell me about my son."
Luc met her eyes. "My son and heir," he told her. "I will tell him his mother died during childbirth."
"You wouldn't-"
"He doesn't know you. When he was born, he didn't even open his eyes to lay them on you," Antoine told her. "Stephane Eduard Narcisse will grow up without ever knowing who the Valoises were."
Claude let out a sob. "His name is Lawrence Francis Valois!"
"Your debts are coming to collect, Claude," Antoine taunted, stepping towards her. He turned. "Empty the cells."
Claude looked up at him in confusion. She saw Luc about to leave, but Antoine stopped him.
"W-What are you going to do to me?" Claude whispered. "Kill me now?"
"Oh, no," Antoine said, kneeling before her. "Francis will see you die, your head rolling right in front of him. Then your half-brother's and his little friend he runs about the castle with. Then, I will take your brother's life."
Claude spat at him. "You disgust me-" She was cut off by her head jolting to the side and she held up a hand at her stinging cheek.
"I think I will have a little fun with you first," Antoine told her, bringing her free hand in his and kiss the back of it. "I wonder how a cousin would feel compared to a brother?"
Claude's eyes widened and she screamed, her arms lashing out to stop him from getting any closer. But even her husband's hands held her down and covered her mouth, silencing her screams.
...
Mary halted at the entrance of the castle, frowning deeply. "Elizabeth, why are you here?"
Elizabeth sighed. "I was invited to France," she told Mary, both of them stepping outside. "Antoine wants to make an alliance."
"We can use this to our advantage," Mary replied. "Our armies are there, you can follow me to France."
"The alliance comes after Francis's beheading," Elizabeth explained.
Mary stopped by the carriage. "It won't come to that. Gather up your English convoy and get there before me. I want to delay this as much as possible to get our armies in position."
"Mary-"
"Make sure your English crest is visible at all times. They won't question your armies if you were to make an alliance," Mary cut her off. "I will have my men dress as French soldiers in the meantime."
Elizabeth slowly nodded. "Very well. Before I forget, congratulations on your twins. Have you named them?"
"No," Mary told her. "I want Francis to name them with me."
Elizabeth took her hand and squeezed it. "This is going to plan. Everything will be in our favour."
"Scotland already has a government, but I would like you to join it," Mary said to her.
"A woman in a government?"
"I am a queen," Mary replied lightly.
"So am I," Elizabeth replied. "Not for long, I feel that my illness is plaguing me quicker than I wanted. I have already named you my heir-"
"No, you were meant to name Francis your-"
"You are my cousin," Elizabeth cut her off. "Not him. And your dream of a queen ruling Scotland is beautiful. Women can do the job better than men can. When this is over and France is taken back in the right hands, England and Scotland will unite to be the United Kingdom."
Mary's eyes stung with tears. "My husband must already hate me... Elizabeth, I can't accept."
"Anne will be stronger than France, she can protect France and James," Elizabeth replied. "You did this for Scotland, carry it through. Or else I withdraw my forces."
Mary gasped, her eyes widening. "Elizabeth-"
"It's an easy decision, Cousin," Elizabeth said. "Your daughter is so strong. I have met her, she will be a queen for the ages. No revolutions or uprisings will happen under her reign. She's beautiful, she's loved by everyone and that includes the French. Say 'yes'."
"Yes," Mary breathed out, hugging Elizabeth so the woman couldn't see the dishonesty in her eyes. "Oh, God. Yes."
"Now, let's go to France and get your husband's country back."
...
The minute Kenna's eyes landed on him, she started to cry. Her arms wrapped around him tightly and his words immediately soothed her, his hand rubbing her back. She missed him, seeing him in passing but unable to greet him in case it would blow both their covers.
"Father, he..."
"I know," Robert whispered. "I visited her, I prayed for her. She didn't talk or move."
"It's all my fault," Kenna sobbed. "If I kept quiet about seeing her..."
Robert cupped his daughter's cheeks and stared into her eyes. "Kenna, you can't give up now. I will help Claude. I will visit them all on your behalf. I will explain your lack of presence."
He pressed a kiss on her head and she winced. Her father frowned, pulling her collar down to see the bruise on her neck. His eyes flashed with anger and she began moving, but she stopped him.
"I am fine, Father. Just keep going. It is almost over," Kenna assured him, forcing him to look at her. "It will all be over and I will be in Bash's loving arms again and you will be safe in Scotland once again."
"If he touches you again, I will be the first one to kill him," Robert promised her.
"I am afraid that Bash may have already secured that role," she replied lightly, hugging her father again. "I can't believe I got Claude raped. How he was telling me, so proud of himself. Luc... He held her down and watched! Who does that to their own wife?"
Robert shook his head in disbelief. "A monster as bad as his father before him."
"Not even Stephane was that cruel," Kenna said. "I have to go. But I will try and see you soon."
"Don't. It's dangerous, my darling daughter," Robert replied. "Your brothers are near. Just rest and remember that we are winning."
With one last hug, she returned to Antoine's bedchamber and took off her cloak, putting it away. She got into the bed and closed her eyes, tears stinging them. She couldn't believe how strong she was, being pregnant and being such a secretive vixen towards Antoine.
"Kenna?"
Kenna froze. She sat up and in the faint light of the single candle that was lit, she saw...
"Bash?"
...
Kenna ran her fingers through her husband's beard. It shocked her every time she saw him, but she didn't care about his current appearance, he was still as handsome and gorgeous as the day she first laid eyes on him and believed him to be Francis. His eyes still made her heart flutter with joy.
"So, how did you...?"
"Catherine," he said. "She's here. She came to visit Francis and Antoine made a visit outside of Court."
Kenna nodded, gently soaping his face. She wanted to help Francis and Leith but she figured that Catherine was probably sorting them out. "How long do we have?"
"Not that long," Bash said, stopping her from using the shaving blade. "That would be a little suspicious, wouldn't it?"
She nodded, laughing lightly. "My mind was with the fairies."
Bash's eyes flickered to her exposed neck. "I'll kill him. Forget a sword or a knife, my bare hands would do."
Kenna cupped his cheeks and pressed her lips against his, sighing in relief. "It feels like a rare necessity, our kisses," she whispered, pulling back and leaning her head on his. "I can't..."
"Can't 'what'?"
She began to sob. "I'm scared. I try and give you, Francis, Claude and Leith hope, but I ruin things."
"Kenna-"
"Claude was raped because I told Antoine I visited her to tell her about her son," Kenna whispered, her eyes searching his. "That was selfish of me, to protect myself and I still got hurt."
Bash cupped her cheek. "That wasn't your fault. Claude won't hold that against you."
"Bash... Do you think our daughter remembers us?" She asked quietly. "She must look so different now. She's probably had her first steps and we have missed them."
"Kenna," Bash whispered her name before groaning from his wound. "Don't do that to yourself. We'll see them very soon, I promise you."
"I love you."
"I love you," he replied. "I have to go. But thank you for the extra food and light bath."
Kenna gave him a smile. "Remember when I'd bathe you when you came back from fighting the Darkness?"
"You mean getting in yourself and trying to take my mind off the Darkness?" He replied, kissing her. "I don't think I remember we did any bathing at all. Lovemaking, yes."
She snorted, hugging him tightly and playing with the hair on the back of his head. "You are the best man I know. So strong and selfless... You changed me into a better person. You gave me three gifts and you accepted me for who I was."
"Eventually," Bash teased her, pulling away. "I have to go now."
He brushed her hair from her eyes and his finger hovered over her bottom lip. He stared at her, memorising her beauty from top to bottom. He didn't know how he got so lucky to be forced to marry the woman who was perfect for him all along. Who always did things in his interests. The good outweighed the bad for them lately.
"Even if we fail, I want the last thing I see to be you," he whispered, tears stinging his eyes. "I'd be at peace."
Kenna furrowed her brows. "Don't talk such nonsense, Bash."
"Promise me though. You've done it once, you can do it again."
"Bash-"
"You've seen one lover die, what's another, wife?" He asked, kissing her softly. "Don't mourn me, you are too spirited to be a depressed widow."
She giggled softly, nodding. "When Penelope took your grandmother's ring from me, I wanted to kill her."
Bash took the ring from underneath his shirt, showing her its place on his heart, around his neck with a piece of string. "You'll get this back from me very soon."
She nodded. "I will," she promised him, kissing him hard. "Go."
She looked away when he stood up from the chaise. She couldn't bear watching him walk away from her. But then again, she wanted to see his handsome face for the last time in a short while.
But she was too late and the secret door closed behind his shadow.
...
As Bash made his way back to the tower prison, he saw Catherine standing, her eyes trained in the cell before her. Moving closer, he saw tears stream down her cheeks and he reached her, turning his head into the cell.
"C-Claude?" He whispered.
She didn't respond, her body across the ground with her eyes open and still. Bash entered the cell and inspected her closely. He then swallowed deeply and sighed, closing her eyes and saying a quick prayer.
"They killed my daughter," Catherine whispered in horror. "They killed my daughter!"
"Catherine!" Bash called her. "Be quiet, they'll think something is wrong."
"Something is wrong, Sebastian!" She snapped, staring him down.
Bash sighed, positioning his half-sister's body on the makeshift bed. "We can't do anything. They will find her, alert you in Italy and you will ask for her body to be brought to you. Have one of your people speak on your behalf."
"No, I won't keep my presence in France a secret any longer. I will gather all the French allies I know and we will destroy Navarre and squash his little country to pieces. They took my child's life, I will take one of theirs," Catherine promised him, leaving the prison.
Bash stepped outside to make sure she was gone. When he was certain, he looked back into the cell and saw Claude sitting up.
"What was it that you gave me? I felt as if I was dreaming," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
"Don't worry about that. At least we now know that it works," he replied. "The Scots brought it over from Scotland, courtesy of Nostradamus. When the day comes, take it and you will be believed to be dead so you can avoid having your head cut off your body like the rest of us."
Claude sniffled, eyeing him before looking down again. "Bash..." She said, her voice breaking.
"Claude, I am so sorry they did that to you," he said, warily eyeing her. "If you ever need somewhere to live, Kenna and I will be more than happy to have you and Lawrence live with us. Luc will never hurt you again."
Claude's eyes cast down to the ground. "They burnt Avon down to ashes."
"I know," he replied quietly. "I was thinking about taking up lands in Scotland instead."
"And leave Francis and France behind?"
"No, I'll never leave them behind. But I have already put forward a good candidate for my position," Bash told her. "Claude, it would be good to get away from France."
"I guess seeing my niece and nephew every day will not hurt," she said. "I accept. Now, stop my mother before she ruins the plan and gets into more trouble."
He laughed a little, rushing down the halls to find his former stepmother.
Claude rubbed her neck, sighing heavily. She eyed the material she sat on. Maybe death was an escape.
...
"Why did the babies come late?" Anne asked her mother, peeking one's face from his position in the governess's arms.
Mary shrugged. "I suppose it was all my worrying about needing to see your father again. Two weeks is not that bad."
She knew that it was. She had hoped to have her husband be there with her so she tried delaying the inevitable with remedies she'd kept from the time Catherine came to Scotland. She had been surprised to be shooed away with different cocktails of herbs and drinks.
"Mama?" Rose called for her quietly, almost frightened. "I am sorry about what I said."
Mary swallowed deeply. She had been avoiding her youngest daughter, scared of the many similarities she shared with her father. Their anger was very alike and Mary feared that she would hear those same words from her husband's lips.
"Never say that to me again," Mary told her firmly. She needed to be a parent and actually discipline her children instead of cowering away from them as if she was the child. "I am disappointed and deeply hurt by your words."
Rose bowed her head and she leant it against Anne's shoulder, her eyes wandering away to look at the wooden sword her cousin was playing with. It was a moderately big carriage, having space for the queen, four babes and governesses as well as three children. Scotland had been eager to build her a carriage to last and fulfil the number of people she would be travelling with.
Halfway during the journey, she left that carriage and joined the one with her cousin. It was peaceful, both of them riding in silence. In all honesty, Mary didn't know what to say, but then she did.
"Do you think I made the smart decision? To separate Scotland and France?"
"If the French didn't hate us enough already, they sure do so now," was the Marquess's reply before he closed his eyes and seemingly dozed off.
Mary bit her lip, turning to look out the window. She had opened it for some air, but now as the sky became darker, she closed it shut. She didn't need anyone throwing rotten food at her. Food that they needed to eat themselves, they would rather attack her with them.
She sighed, closing her eyes as well. At least it wouldn't be too long until she and Francis were reunited.
...
A week later, the bells rang.
Ten bells in total, Claude counted and her eyes widened. Today was the day. She grabbed the vial and downed it, swallowing it all. She could feel her heart start to slow down and she threw the vial out of the barred window and heard it smash to pieces on the ground. It was dark, but the daylight was enough for her to find her way to the bed and close her eyes.
Not that long to go now.
Upstairs in the tower, Francis's heart sank.
"I don't hear the calvary running, do you?" He sniped.
"Francis-"
"I guess this is 'goodbye'."
Leith was about to speak but the guards came inside and they were not their guards. He swallowed deeply and held out his arms, one immediately binding them together as two walked up to Bash and Francis.
"Are you going to give us grief?" One asked, glaring down at Francis.
"I will remember this day..." Francis trailed off. He wanted to say that he would remember this day when he got France back but he couldn't let them in on that.
"In death?" The other guard asked, amused. "You're no king of mine. You are weaker than your father."
Francis slowly turned to him. "At least I wasn't cruel," he said, feeling the binds on his hand tighten. "What did I do to you? Why did you turn against me so quickly, my own guards and protectors?"
"You made us weak," the guard by Leith said. "With Scotland, we were unbeatable. Now, we are open to attack."
Wouldn't you like to know, Francis smiled to himself.
"Behind every great man, is a great woman," Francis said, not sure if he believed his words. "But that doesn't always mean that the man is controlled by puppet strings."
His guard's interest peaked. "The Scottish Queen doesn't control you?"
"Why would you think so?"
"She caused all of this," the second guard said. "Wouldn't you like her to pay for ruining our country?"
Francis's eye twitched. "She's the mother of my children. Her intentions are easily misinterpreted. But I will always do what is best for France, I have always done that. Scotland is not my country to protect, France is and she needs me. Not some tyrant who will kill off anyone who ever served me, including their spouses and children. Come back to my side and I will make it worth your while."
The third guard shared wary glances with the other two before saying, "What do you need us to do, Your Majesty?" He asked, kneeling down on one knee.
The other two followed and Francis turned to Bash. "Bring us a priest for our last rites."
...
Elizabeth kept her cool, heading straight to Antoine and taking a sip from her goblet. Her eyes quickly glanced over at his pregnant companion and she could see the unease in the other woman's eyes, wanting to console her and assure her, but she couldn't.
"Antoine Navarre-"
"Bourbon. King of France, Antoine Bourbon of House Bourbon," Antoine cut her off, taking her hand and kissing it. "The last time we were in business, things went awry."
Elizabeth nodded politely. "I heard that two children were taken and beaten."
"Not on my orders, I promise you, Elizabeth," Antoine replied. "Those poor children. It is by God's grace they were returned before further harm."
Elizabeth placed a hand on her chest. "It is."
"One of their mothers stands beside me. May I introduce-"
"Duchess Kenna de Poitiers," Elizabeth quickly said. "We are somewhat acquainted - distant cousins."
Antoine blinked. "Oh. Your father's side?"
"Of course," Elizabeth said. "Half, somewhere in the line. English and Scottish ties are very strong. Shame we are at war."
"Yes! I wanted to talk to you about that," Antoine said. "After the glorious show we are having today about the former king's beheading as well as his wayward siblings', we will talk more about uniting England and France against Scotland."
Elizabeth sipped her wine. "Is that so? What is in it for me? You have already broken faith with me."
"An alliance formidable against all alliances," Antoine said. "My future wife will bear you a child. There will be some likeness, you are practically close family already."
Kenna turned to him in shock. "Pardon me?"
"You are good for childbearing. A gift for the Queen of the English, a child and in return, her support for France and an unbreakable alliance," Antoine replied.
"I am not your prized mare," Kenna snapped, gasping when he gripped her wrist tightly.
Elizabeth set her jaw and almost snapped the glass goblet she held in two. "I would appreciate it if my cousin's hand was released."
Antoine let go, turning to Elizabeth. "Take it or leave it. I will know of your decision after I personally behead Francis Valois and his bastard brother."
He left the women, Elizabeth immediately slipping into her corset and retrieving a letter for Kenna.
"Mary is here with the children. They are a few minutes behind, we travelled at different times. But everything is in place," the older woman said. "You do not need to fear anything."
"Are my children safe?" Kenna asked her, accepting the letter.
"They are. They are with Mary as well. I need to go around and converse. I am still a queen after all," she said, leaving Kenna's side.
Kenna snuck outside, heading towards a lit fireplace. It was hot already outside, but Antoine had been paranoid of some sorts. She opened the letter and smiled, tears springing to her eyes. It was a note from her son and he had signed it with his younger sister's name.
Her lips wavered and she willed herself not to cry. Any moment now and it would all be over. She would throw herself into Bash's arms and kiss and hug him hard. They will have their children run up to them and they'll be a family again.
She kissed the letter and threw it to the flames, watching it burn away.
...
"I have had a change of heart," Antoine said, stepping into Claude's cell.
He paused, frowning deeply. He then knelt and saw that she was most certainly dead. He looked around, seeing nothing out of sorts. How could she have died unless...?
"Did you forget to feed the prisoner?!"
"No, my Lo-Your Majesty," the guard quickly said. "Why?"
"She's dead," Antoine snapped. "Wrap her body up and throw her in a shallow grave. The foxes will eat her for dinner."
He got back up and left the cells. He still had a change of heart, wanting Francis to die before the rest. He had committed the greatest treason of all. Marrying a queen who only acted in her own country's best interests.
Antoine started to laugh. "Bring the men outside, take your time. I'd like to taunt them a little."
The guard warily eyed him, nodding firmly. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Watching as the false king left, the guard headed back up the stairs. The 'priest' left and he turned to the brothers and their friend.
"Your sister's body is being taken to a shallow grave. We have already prepared a carriage for her and her child to be taken to Italy," the guard said. "What did that man do?"
"That man was my father-in-law," Bash said, wriggling his hands around with the loose binds. "He came to give us a message."
The second guard cleared his throat. "It's time."
The three men were led down the stairs and out of the cells. The past servants and handmaidens who wished them good death and other kind words. They had no reason to hate Francis nor his companions. They always paid them more than they were due, always slipping in even extra for their children and ill relatives.
He still had the workforce on his side.
It was the nobles that controlled the workforce who needed to be convinced, the guards one by one coming back to his side. That had been Catherine's work, and a part of his and the Scottish Duke's.
Now, Francis was starting to gain hope.
On the field, Antoine turned to Mary. "I've made a wonderful front row seat for you and your children," he told her into her ear, making her shiver a little. "I must warn you, he is first. I had contemplated having your past lover and his brother go first, but I thought about my betrothed and how much that would hurt her. She needs a few words with him, you see. Your former lady-in-waiting will be the new Queen of France very soon. A widow very briefly because our child is preparing for his reveal."
Mary turned to him, her eyes bored. "Are you done?"
"Please, sit. You've recently given birth," Antoine said.
She sat down and he did the same beside her. "Antoine, I did what you asked. Why am I here?"
"Kenna suggested for you to say 'goodbye'. I hope your marriage is still somewhat endearing," Antoine replied, patting her hand that rested on the armrest. "Otherwise this would be too painful for everyone. If his queen was to shun him in his death."
"Our marriage is... different," she said.
"Different as in the time you and my late brother slept with each other?" Antoine asked coyly. "And you both spread words about loyalty and commitment. Practice what you preach, Queen of Scots."
"I am still the Queen Consort of France," Mary said to him.
"Not for long," Antoine replied, his grin widening when he saw her husband being led onto the stage. "What a spectacular performance this would be. The last king of House Valois's death."
Mary shakily turned to her husband and tears ran down her cheeks. He looked so unlike himself and that was all down to her. His hair was longer, he had a beard. He hated beards, preferring stubble. He looked so lean, so tired and worn out, his blue eyes were no longer joyous or bright.
Mary felt sick. They had kept him in his kingly clothes, long since torn and dirtied and pulled to shreds. She felt Antoine squeeze her hand.
"It must be such a shock," he said to her. "Seeing your husband like this. Are you sure you do not want the children here?"
"I'm sure," Mary whispered.
Antoine nodded, seeing Elizabeth join them and take a seat beside the Scottish Queen. He felt a presence beside him and he gave Kenna a loving smile, placing a hand on her bump.
"My beloved, soon you will be free of that man," he told her, kissing the side of her head.
He stood up and waved over a guard. Mary turned to the guard and saw that her children were right behind him.
She gasped, standing up in fury. "Why are they here?"
"It is the last thing I will grant him," Antoine said matter-of-factly. "The chance to see his children one last time. He hasn't even met two of them."
Mary's eyes found Francis's and she choked back a sob, bringing their children into her body as if she was shielding them. The guard held the twins, one in each arm and Francis swallowed deeply.
It was true, the twins. Boys, they were. He didn't even know he had it in him, but he had noticed that his wife had been bigger and thrown up a lot more than in her previous pregnancies.
"Hurry up and say 'goodbye'," Antoine said, bending down to look into Anne's eyes. "Your father missed you. Now he's going to meet God."
Anne glowered at him, running up to Francis's legs and hugged him tightly. Rose soon followed, holding James's hand. The eldest child noted that her mother was taking her time.
The two unnamed babies were passed onto their mother and Mary finally walked up to her family, her eyes meeting Francis's.
"Forgive me," Mary whispered to him.
"Let's focus on the children," Francis shakily said. "What did you name our sons?"
Mary shook her head. "I wanted you to name them."
This was their moment, no one was going to take it away from them. Her eyes stared at the son that came out first. She smiled at Francis, wanting to touch him but she couldn't.
"How about Henry Peter? Peter to the rest of us," she suggested.
"Fitting," Francis mumbled. "And a Scottish name for... I can't believe we have twins, Mary. Five out of five."
She laughed softly, nodding. "Yes. You got your wish. We're running out of names."
"Stanley Joseph," he whispered. "I was thinking about names for all of these months and it fits him."
He pressed kisses on all of his children's heads and cupped Mary's cheek as best as he could with his restraints. "I forgive you," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her lips.
Mary gasped. The kiss was rough, his lips chapped and broken and dry. But it still brought sparks and fireworks to her body, her body craving his touch and more.
Then he pulled away and she turned, going back to her seat as the governesses quickly came and took the children away.
"I love you," she mouthed to him, hoping she'd see the words return.
But they didn't and Francis was led to the chopping block. Mary closed her eyes, any second now...
"The excitement enthrals me..." Antoine breathed out. "I don't know why I delayed this, this is so very satisfying. To see the men who brought down my House suffer as I end theirs."
Kenna held her breath as she turned to see Antoine's eyes trained securely on Francis. Her eyes met Bash's and she gave him a smile before slowly pulling out her concealed weapon.
Without receiving his attention, Kenna had the knife just a hair's touch from his neck, her lips wet as she licked it in concentration. She slowly stood up and Antoine turned and found her eyes, his eyes flickering between her and the blade.
"Kenna..." He warned.
He looked around as best as he could and he saw that he was surrounded. The guards from earlier handed swords to Francis, Bash and Leith and he began to laugh.
"I see," he said, turning back to Kenna. "Are you intent on using that against the father of your child?"
"No," Kenna said, digging the knife into his neck. "What a shame, it turns out that you are not the father."
Antoine laughed, even more, shaking his head in disappointment. "You've fooled me twice. I guess Henry saw the same thing I saw in you. You are too... easy. You're not exciting, more of a burden than a lover."
Kenna saw it coming and she pressing a hand against her husband's chest, her eyes trained on Antoine. "Your Majesty, would you like to do the honours?" She asked, her hand shakily gripping onto Bash's shirt.
Francis walked over. "Antoine Bourbon, you are arrested for acts of treason."
Elizabeth started to clap, downing her wine as she stood. "I expect a grand celebration."
"And you?" Antoine asked, being restrained by the guards. "I thought you hated the Scots and French alike."
"Even cousins make peace," Elizabeth replied, eyeing her nails in disinterest. "Shame yours happen to be more influential than you. Goodbye, Antoine."
After he'd been led away and all his men and allies were rounded up or killed within the minutes they had secured Antoine, Mary joined Francis in their bedchamber.
"Francis-"
"Don't," he quickly said. "Do you know what I have been through this past God knows how many months?!"
Mary's eyes cast down onto the ground. "Francis, I am sorry. Anything you want, I will do."
"You've done enough," he said, wiping his freshly shaven face down. "There is no coming back from this."
"Oh?" Mary asked, laughing humourlessly. "Do you remember when I asked for your help for Scotland and you had me locked away in a tower? Then had my uncle's troops aid in your claim for Calais and not my country?! You have no right to-"
"I did those things for both of our interests," Francis calmly said. "Getting Calais off English hands was going to help us secure England overall! Your claim to England was why we were married in the first place. As for locking you up? You would have got yourself killed and we wouldn't be here with five children, Mary! Wake up and smell the truth."
Mary shook her head in disbelief, turning away from him. "I thought it was you and me against the world."
"Until you destroyed our alliance and made us both weak."
"I made Scotland stronger!" Mary cried out. "And I will make her even stronger than she is now."
"How?"
"You don't need to worry about that. I've done enough," she snapped, walking over to the window.
Francis joined her, staring at the bright moon outside. "I didn't know when I was going to see our children again or even meet our new sons. You've destroyed our family."
"I did this for our family," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "What happens next?"
Francis swallowed deeply. "I... I give my people what they want."
"And that is?"
"You know what that is."
"She's yours," Mary croaked out. "But you don't get England."
She walked away, opening the door and closing it behind her, missing Francis's shocked reaction. She waited until she got to the nursery, dismissed the governess and sat down in between her newborns before letting out sobs.
...
"Bash," Kenna said, hurrying over to him. "I've been looking for you everywhere."
Bash stopped her from cupping his cheeks. "I have things to do, but I will find you. Find the children and I will join you all very soon, I promise."
"But you need a bath and a shave. Francis is making his announcement this night," she told him, brushing his hair from his eyes.
"I know," Bash replied. "But there are some things I need to do for him." He eyed Leith. "I swear, I will be with you shortly."
He left his wife's side, missing her crestfallen face as he walked away with Leith hot on his tails. He had managed to retrieve his weapons, custom made for him, as well as a few of his clothes that hadn't been burnt.
He had thanked the handmaidens who had been kind enough to protect their belongings during the siege. He paid them more coin, promising them that any of their jobless relatives and friends would get jobs from him as soon as he could find them some.
He headed down to the cells and ordered the guard to open the door to the tower cell where he'd made his home in for the past long months. He stared at Antoine, watching as the man sighed heavily.
"First Marcus, now me?"
"Marcus was and would always be a mistake," Bash snapped. "You... I will take pleasure in taking your life."
He gave his sword to Leith and took his gloves off. He hadn't killed a man with his bare hands in a long time and now, he couldn't wait. A smile of relief graced his lips when he saw Antoine's face fall.
"Did you feel powerful?" Bash asked, taking a step towards the Spaniard. "Strangling my wife, gripping onto her body tightly than needed? Threatening her? Abusing her?"
"You never deserved her," Antoine spat.
"No, I never did. But I have her and I will always have her no matter how many times she takes you to bed and tells you all the things you want to hear from her," Bash said. "'You and me against the world, Antoine' or 'You were right, Antoine' or 'I need you, Antoine'."
"Stop."
Bash laughed. "And my favourite, 'No tears will be shed at his funeral, not even our children's'."
"She was talking about you," Leith said.
Bash nodded. "No one cares about you, Navarre. You have no children, no lands - your former wife took back her country. I should be calling you Bourbon. No allies to come and save you either because Navarre certainly won't prefer their usurper. I'm relieved France accepted me."
Antoine gulped. "Stay away from me."
"No, I don't think I will."
Even Leith had to look away.