Replies to reviews:
Guest (1) [chapter 40]: Thanks so much! Yes, there will be some tension between Mary and Francis. That will be coming up very soon, Francis's duties to France. Yes, the ending was my favourite too. Love you too! :)
elder441 [chapter 40]: There is some tension between the couple, it will take a while until things get better. ;)
Guest (2) [chapter 40]: It's all Mary's fault! And loved Elizabeth! More of her down below. :)
Guest (3) [chapter 40]: Here's another long chapter! And yes, indeed, thanks haha. I changed it to an axe/chopping block ;)
Guest (4) [chapter 40]: This chapter's for you, honey! :)
Guest (5) [chapter 40]: Here's the next chapter! :)
Sorry for the delay! I had exams and I woke up one morning and threw up everywhere constantly. I had a stomach bug and it felt great. Yep. Great. Haha, anyway I am getting better. I am glad it happened nearer the end of the week so I can rest as much as possible but then exams are again next week so not too much D: Hope you enjoy this chapter!
There was no point in going to the announcement, Mary decided. She got dressed into her nightgown after wishing the children 'goodnight' and she ended up in her former bedchamber.
She wasn't sure who was kicking her out. She left their bedchamber with free will, seeing that he probably wanted to avoid her for as long as he could without it being uncomfortable for their children and everyone else.
She shivered, going over to the window to close it. She'd been airing the room out, it hadn't been occupied for a good long while. It was quiet and lonely and cold.
Mary blinked her tears away, looking out the closed window to see people enter the gates for the announcement. It was a sight to be seen, hundreds of heads moving up and down as they came inside with smaller bodies with smaller heads moving up and down. Quite comedic, Mary thought. Also, quite daunting.
"You're not dressed."
Mary turned to face her husband. "I wouldn't want your subjects to hurl more abuse my way. It might deflect on you again."
"You're still their queen."
"I stopped being their queen when I put my country before them," she whispered, looking away. "You look better. The handmaidens did good stitch-work."
He cleared his throat. "I did lose a bit of weight."
"I noticed," her quiet reply came.
"I need you there."
"Francis-"
"I can't do this without you. I forgive you, but I..." He took a sharp breath, raising his head to the sky as he tried to find the words. "Don't fully trust you?"
Mary nodded. "I know."
"They want me to put you in line, but-"
"It's impossible," she whispered. "I am a queen in my own right, you were only a prince when we got married. They can't expect you to hold any control over me or my actions."
"I need you to put their mind at rest. To be... I need to be seen as a strong king, Mary. If you are not there, they will question your loyalty and mine," Francis said. "Just come."
Mary took a shaky breath. "What will happen to us?"
"We live separately, Mary," he told her. "I'm sorry, but I can't... We can't, not after everything. The children are important and we will always put them first, but you and I..."
"Fine," she breathed out. "If you'll wait outside as I get dressed?"
Strangers. That's what she thought they were acting like. Now, she couldn't bear her husband's eyes on her body because they weren't that. At least not in spirit, but on paper.
"Take your time," Francis said. "Then after, we can tell the children what is happening to our family."
"You mean, tell them that it was all my fault? That I was the reason you were all apart for so long? That you and I are no longer..." She let out a sob, waving him away as she turned around. "Every day, I tried my best to rule Scotland and help you survive. I delayed my labour as long as I could so you could be there. I prayed, fasted, screamed, cried... All for nothing."
"No, it wasn't all for nothing," Francis said. "You got our children home where they belonged and that is all that matters."
She turned to him. "But I don't get you."
Francis faltered. "And I don't get you. I don't think I ever thought about the implications of marrying you would have. Perhaps I should have married the likes of Olivia or a princess. Someone with equal standing... It was always going to be a disaster uniting two countries together when one had its queen that they were fully loyal to. Mary, you are a just and strong ruler, but sometimes your heart rules your head more than it should. That leads to a whole vast of unnecessary problems that are seldom impossible to fix."
"I will join you when I am done getting dressed," she said, ending their conversation.
She turned away from him and after a while, she heard retreating footsteps and eventually, the opening and closing of the door. She pressed a hand to her heart, the feeling of being unable to breathe bestowed upon her. That turned into a sound which resembled a cry or a scream, she didn't know.
No one came to check on her, so that must have meant that she was quiet enough to wallow in her self pity. She didn't need anyone, the love of her children was enough for her. She'd get Francis back somehow. Now, she had to leave things be. Sit down and shut up had been Catherine's stern advice.
She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it. In front of her was a dress she hadn't worn in years. It was red, bold with gold and most of all, it had the English crest on it.
She grabbed the dress.
...
Kenna paced her bedchamber, she hadn't seen Bash in an hour and any minute now, his brother would make his announcement and everything would change. Her fingers itched and she became restless, wanting the day to end and her eyes to close into a deep slumber beside the man she loved.
The door opened and she turned, almost rolling her eyes when she saw that it was only Robin. Of course, he'd be one of the two people to not knock and enter. The owner of the bedchamber himself or the child who was just as impatient as his father.
"Where is he?" Robin asked although he seemed to already know.
"You're supposed to be asleep-"
"I want Papa, Mama," Robin told her, coming to hug her legs tightly. "I want him to read me to bed."
Kenna smiled, playing with his brown hair. "I got your letter. Aunt Elizabeth gave it to me."
Robin gasped happily. "Did you?"
"I did. I missed you so much too, my darling. And I love you so much - you and your sister," she told him, lifting his hand to press against her bump. "And your future sibling."
"It was a surprise seeing you having a baby again," Robin replied sadly. "The last time you did, I wasn't allowed to see you for weeks."
"It's different now," Kenna assured him gently. "Now, go to bed-"
Robin scowled. "Story - I want one! I haven't seen either of you in forever."
Kenna giggled. "I know. Tomorrow, Papa and I will read you and Ana three stories. How about that?"
Robin contemplated the idea. "Fine," he agreed. "Make it four."
Kenna gasped softly. "You drive a hard bargain, my sweet."
"Four and two nights to sleep between you," Robin replied.
"Four and one night to sleep between us," his mother said, fully knowing that she and her husband would need some privacy after the long months they had apart.
Robin nodded. "Deal. I will go to bed now," he said, letting go of her legs and going over to the door. He stopped and turned to her. "Papa... he hurt someone who hurt you."
Kenna frowned deeply. "Robin, what do you mean?"
"I had my night terrors again this night. There was this man who... he kissed you and he held your arm too tightly. Not loving like Papa does, but tight and you had bruises," Robin explained. "Then, Papa killed him. I wasn't scared like I am when I see him do things like that... It felt right."
Kenna froze. "Go to bed, my darling boy. We will see you in the morning."
Robin beamed and Kenna was unnerved by how at peace he seemed with his father's actions. They knew that it was impossible to keep him away from the harsh, cruel realities of the world, and there had been nothing to help keep the visions at bay, but the fact that her child had accepted death...
"Goodnight, Mama."
"Goodnight, Robert Francis," Kenna's reply came as he finally left.
She wanted to go and find Bash, but she didn't have to. Not when he waltzed right into their bedchamber, locked the door behind him and pressed his lips against hers before she could even act or say something.
She responded, just as desperately before pulling back and holding her hands out to keep him at bay.
"Did you kill Antoine?"
"Kenna, you don't need to worry about-"
"Did. You. Kill. Him?" She asked, meeting his eyes.
Bash swallowed deeply. "He committed treason, Kenna. As King's Deputy, it is my duty to uphold the law. You know that fact," he explained, leaving her side to start undressing. "You have a bath drawn for me. Thank you."
"Bash, promise me that Antoine's blood is the last blood that you'll spill," Kenna said, turning to him.
"Kenna, you know what my duties are-"
"Our son..." She trailed off shakily. "Our son had a vision of you killing Antoine today. And that isn't the scary thing. The scary thing is, is that he felt like violence and killing was right. I understand in this situation, need be, but still. We are wanting our children to grow up in a world, where they use words as weapons and not death."
Bash met her eyes in shock. "I don't want our son to become the person I was-am. I will speak to him about it. I promise you, he will not pick up another toy sword or a real one. He will never feel the need to take the life of another."
"And as for this being the last time you kill someone?" Kenna whispered nervously.
"I can't promise you that."
"Yes, you can!"
"How?!"
Kenna scoffed. "We leave France behind? Go to Scotland, Claude told me you suggested that as an option. Our lands have been burnt to the ground, there is nothing holding us behind-"
"Kenna, wherever we go, I will still be the same man you know. Long ago, I told you that I lied and I killed," Bash told her, taking her hands. "But that doesn't mean I love you or our children any less. I am what I am, I can't stop being what I am because it doesn't work that way. No matter how much I try."
Kenna looked up at him. "Our son will always have visions. We can't help that fact. But what we can do, is not encourage lies and deceit and death." She gestured to his chest. "You look at yourself. Scars everywhere. They scare me. I don't want to be scared."
She dug her face into his chest and sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist. She soon felt arms wrap around her body tightly and she sighed heavily, closing her eyes.
"I promise."
Kenna smiled against his chest, pulling away a little bit so she could see his eyes. "You need a bath, you stink. Oh, and a bloody shave because I am not kissing a bird's nest again."
She squealed when she felt his hands tickle her sides.
"Here I thought you missed me."
"I did," she whispered, cupping his cheeks lovingly. "But when you smelt a lot better than you do right now!"
...
"Oh, dear God," Elizabeth said when Mary entered her bedchamber. "It suits you. This will send the French a firm message - Scotland and England united as one-"
"I can't," Mary quickly said, grabbing the wine jug and pouring herself from wine. "I can't be your heir."
Elizabeth sighed. "Mary, we agreed-"
"We agreed and then my husband..." Mary sniffled. "He doesn't trust me. He doesn't even want me anymore. I have fought so hard for him, for our marriage, for everyone to accept us together and for what?"
"I tried my best to find a suitable match," Elizabeth said, sitting down. "To start a family, bear heirs. Neither plan worked out as I wanted. Lonely nights and lonely days as a sick queen... Then, there you were. My subjects already turning their backs on me and hailing you their queen under my nose. Not one, not two but three sons with two daughters. After the start of your marriage was unfruitful."
"I feel trapped," Mary told her. "You're pulling me one way and he's pulling me the other. But with you, I get something out of it. With him, he questions my love and loyalty to him. And he's known me better and longer than you have."
Elizabeth rubbed her head. "I want to speak to your husband."
"Why?"
"Terms and conditions. A place at Court, a comfortable little summer duchy by the coast..." Elizabeth said with a soft smile. "Wear my crest with pride, Cousin. Because you're its new queen."
"Elizabeth-"
"One thing I need you to promise me," Elizabeth cut her off.
Mary nodded. "Yes?"
"You overlook proceedings with me anything regarding England and I will help you with Scotland. Your husband will be doing damage control with France, so if his attentions towards Scotland weren't enough, they will certainly be less from now on," Elizabeth explained. "Our fathers would be rolling in their hollow graves, but this is a new dawn for us all. Who knows? My United Kingdom will be a dream for real one day."
Mary allowed herself to smile. "And what a beautiful dream that would be. But not today."
...
Francis couldn't believe it. Although all he wanted to do was to spend all the time in the world with his beloved children, he had to address the Court. He had to let everyone know that he meant business.
He was the king and they had to accept that. His eldest son would be king after him and so on. His line will continue for as long as it could and his legacy will be victorious.
"I can see your eyes."
Francis turned to look up at his brother. "I can see your own."
They shared a smile and Francis sighed, impatiently tapping his fingers on the armrest of the throne. He didn't know where Mary was. She had taken her time and he had got impatient, deciding to go on ahead without her. If she wanted to be petty, she could be petty.
"How is Kenna?" He asked, trying to take his mind off of his marriage.
"Now is not the time to talk about our wives," Bash replied. "I'll need many drinks for that topic. I am too sober to even start."
Francis chuckled. "That bad?"
"As the head of our families, we will always have it that bad," Bash told him. "I made a decision that I am not so sure about now."
"Does it involve Claude leaving for Scotland and not Italy?"
"Francis, I wanted to be the first to let you know-"
"I understand, Bash," Francis said gently. "If I could, I would leave it all behind as well. We will talk after."
Bash nodded. "Wine?"
"Lots of it."
"Good."
Francis stood up when Mary arrived, all eyes turned on her. She walked first, Elizabeth right beside her as Kenna followed behind. Francis could hear the whispers, the shock at how she was wearing the red English dress. Everyone was confused and so was he.
He didn't know what to feel. Relief that she was giving him a claim to England or anger that perhaps it was a statement to reiterate was she told him earlier. That he'd never have England but he will have Scotland.
When she made it to the front, Francis held out a hand for her and she took it. He could feel her hand tremble in his, normally so still and calm and reserved, now nervous and anxious.
Francis helped her up and walked her to her throne. She sat down and he looked away from her, letting go of her hand as he stood before his people. His people. Apparently, they weren't hers.
"It is late, I know," he began. "There are so many things I have to say, but I will only pick the most important things. I am and I will never stop being the King of France. You can put so many men on my throne, but they will never serve you the respect, the support, the aid, the connections, the care that I serve you. I swore that I would be better than my father and I tried. I knew naivety wasn't an option, so I became ruthless and I believed that my wife thought the same way..."
As he continued to talk, Mary avoided everyone's gazes. Keeping her eyes firmly trained on the ground before her. She felt lightheaded. She had barely slept these months, barely eaten. Even after having Francis safe and alive, she still couldn't eat much or rest a bit. If not for her nursing her children, being distrustful of mostly every French house help, she wouldn't have eaten much at all.
"...My people, France and Scotland will be united as one, forever and always. Not only that, my wife's claim on England has reached a new conclusion," she heard, her eyes meeting Francis's blues. "England's own queen said it from her lips... England is France's."
She kept her eyes on him and his eyes were trained her as everyone celebrated, berating themselves for even distrusting and rebelling against Francis. Some begged for forgiveness, some offered their children, anything to curry favour with the real king in the room.
And she wasn't getting any praise or attention for helping to secure England. She wasn't even allowed to say anything in fears of premature acceptance. It will take a while, she knew that.
For now, it was enough to put the whole thing to bed and move on.
Francis held his hand out towards her and she gasped.
...
Mary couldn't believe what happened after. It was all a blur to her. The moment the hall dispersed for bed or other things, she and Francis ended up in her bed. She had guessed it was unquenchable lust from their time apart, but what he said next made her whole body fall.
"This doesn't mean anything," he whispered, pushing the sheets off his body. "I guess I missed a few things that people take for granted."
"Like sex?" Mary asked him, resting her head on her hand as she turned on her side to see his back to her. "You'll continue your duty as my husband and bed me, but you won't forgive me or love me?"
Francis sighed. "I forgive you. And I love you. But that doesn't take away what happened. I could forgive you a million times over, but that doesn't change the fact that my people imprisoned me for months and almost killed Bash and Claude."
"Francis-"
"Goodnight, Mary. Although we need to see the children, it is way past midnight and I am tired. I do not have the energy for questions or answers," he cut her off. "Goodnight."
She clicked her tongue. "Goodnight, Francis," she mumbled, turning away as he got dressed and left.
Tears leaked from her eyes and she took a while to herself before she got out of bed and got dressed into a nightgown. It felt lonelier than ever, those lonely nights in Scotland nothing compared to this. Now she had him within reach, but yet he was so far.
Mary didn't even know her legs were moving until she reached the nursery. She opened the door and entered, closing it behind her. Just as she rounded the corner, she stopped.
She heard a voice, a voice that belonged to Francis. But she thought he was going to bed? That he was tired? She didn't dispute it, he had had many restless nights and it must have been a shock to his system returning to a proper bed fit for the most kingly of kings.
Mary blinked back tears when she realised that her other children were there as well, begging numerous stories from their beloved father. Francis yawned, but he never stopped.
She opened the door and left.
...
"I missed you all so much," Francis breathed out, pressing long kisses on Anne and Rose's heads before moving onto James who offered him his teddy. "Oh, James... My little Jaybird."
He accepted the teddy and grinned when James said something along the lines of, "Papa, have."
"I'll cherish it, my boy," he whispered, brushing James's locks away from his eyes. At least the teddy would serve as some comfort rather than his estranged wife or brother and friend.
"Papa," Anne called for him. "I am very glad that we are at home again."
Francis nodded. "I am glad too. So glad that tomorrow, we will go to the lake and to the chapel. We can even visit the local orphanage and donate some clothes and food. Charity starts at home."
He was so thankful, he had decided to take it upon himself to physically make sure that his people were taken care of. He would build houses, he would build churches and orphanages, he would trek down to the local homeless shelters. He would even farm crops with the farmers.
"I have a busy week ahead of me, but you all are welcome to join. Maybe not the boys, but will you and Rose love to spend some time with me?"
Rose nodded, launching herself into his arms. "We would. We love you, Papa!"
"I love you all so much," he replied, bringing Anne into his arms as well and squeezing both girls lovingly. "Right, sleep. You will need to be up bright and early."
"Will Mama come?"
Francis shook his head. "No. Goodnight, my sweets."
He left the nursery, closing his eyes when he turned and rested against the door. He felt like he was weightless, everything aching or dull or barely there. His body didn't feel like it was his and if not for missing his children, he would be in bed.
Gathering as much strength as he could, he made his way up to his bedchamber and entered it. He barely reached the bed before he fell against it and settled into a slumber on the floor beside it. It didn't matter, he'll move when he had enough strength to do so.
"Francis, what on Earth are you doing on the floor?"
Francis groaned, opening his eyes. "Mother."
"Oh, my precious son! Come on, up now," she said, reaching down to help him get up. "Look what that stupid girl caused."
Francis moved away from her grip and settled in the bed himself, closing his eyes once again. He didn't have the energy to listen to his mother or whine about his wife.
"She's not stupid," he mumbled sleepily. "...my wife."
Catherine tutted and nodded. "Fine. I will remain here for the rest of the night. You sleep well, my boy. France is ours again."
...
Kenna almost couldn't believe it. Warm arms were wrapped around her that she actually didn't want to peel off her body or tense up in. She relaxed, smiling softly when she felt her husband bury his face into her shoulder. She took one of his hands and placed it on her bump, sighing wistfully.
"Who would have thought?" He began, kissing her neck. "My wife, the master seductress and manipulator?"
She chuckled wryly. "You already knew that about me. How on Earth would I have got with your father in the first place?"
"Oh?" He asked. "So, everything to do with Henry wasn't real?"
Kenna shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that one day, things changed and I woke up with more and more bruises and dead people beside me."
"What?"
"That's a story for another night," she mumbled, reaching back to stroke his cheek softly. "I just want to cherish this moment. Breathe it in, to believe in it."
Bash sighed heavily. "What do you think will happen between my brother and Mary?"
Kenna blinked. "Lord knows."
"No matter how many times we tried to convince him, give him hope... This will forever hold them back," Bash said. "I've almost lost Francis many times. Over women, over our father, over our differences in how to go about certain things... I made the decision to stay by his side when he begged me multiple times not to. I made the decision to protect him, and after surviving all of that, he's not happy."
"Marriage is strange," Kenna whispered softly. "You and I know that most of all. Do you think he hates her?"
Bash tensed up, closing his eyes. "He told us that he'd rather have France fall than, trust the word of a Scot."
"Me?"
"Mary."
"Oh, yes," Kenna mumbled. "I see... So he resents her and blames her?"
"Seems that way," Bash said.
Kenna let out a groan. "I can't be here."
"What? Why?" Her husband asked, tightening his grip slightly.
"Mary's all alone. She probably believes she has no allies here. I have to comfort her," Kenna told him. "France is only home to us because of you, Francis and the children. Without either of you, even a queen can get lonely."
She sat up, pressing a kiss on his lips before retrieving her dressing gown and velvet slippers.
"I will see you tomorrow morning. Robin wants a morning ride, so you will take him on that," she informed him. "Goodnight, Bash."
"Sleep well, Wife," Bash replied, sending her a smile. "And let Mary know that even though I have to choose Francis over her, I am still her friend if she needs to talk to someone."
Kenna nodded. "I will."
...
It took a while, but Kenna found Mary outside. She didn't know what the woman was thinking, sitting in the middle of the gardens at this late time. She knew that Mary was hurt and without a word, she lowered herself onto the ground and brought Mary's head to her lap.
Mary sniffled, wiping her fallen tears as she made herself semi-comfortable on Kenna's warm legs. "We... We had sex."
"Oh?"
"Then he left."
"Oh."
Mary nodded stiffly. "He hates me, Kenna."
Kenna started to plait Mary's hair, shrugging. "I'm so sorry."
"I don't know what I can do to get him back. He wouldn't even look at me as we..."
"Francis is-" Kenna stopped herself, feeling something flutter in her stomach. She smiled softly, taking Mary's hand and pressing it against the small bulge. "Do you feel that? Your future niece or nephew is trying to make you feel better, Your Majesty."
Mary beamed through her tears. "I really am happy for you and Bash. It must have been awful for you, being with Antoine with the risk of him finding out... Kenna, I've not stopped and thanked you for all that you've done-"
"There's no need," Kenna said. "Trust me. I guess there's something I should tell you. I wouldn't want you to hear this from someone else."
Mary nodded slowly. "Tell me."
"Bash and I are contemplating starting a new life in Scotland with the children."
Mary began to shake and she quickly laid her head back down on Kenna's lap. "That's wonderful," she shakily said, tears streaming down her face. One more ally to leave her.
Catherine was right. Who needed friends when you had a crown?
But Mary did.
"I'm happy for you both," Mary whispered. "When are you leaving?"
"Not any time soon," Kenna quickly said. "We need to get our affairs in order. Avon... We might start rebuilding soon. Our mines are still active as well as other trades that Bash invested our money in. Claude and Lawrence will be coming to Scotland."
"Kenna-"
"Mary, if you need me, tell me."
Mary shook her head. "I don't need you."
Kenna looked down at her, clearly seeing the tears. "Then, we'll be saying 'goodbye' soon."
"Indeed."
"Mary... I'm sorry-"
"Can we enjoy the silence please?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," Kenna mumbled sadly.
...
The next morning, Mary gave Francis a meek smile when his eyes slowly opened. She blushed when he gave her a small smile back before he dug his face into his pillow and sighed heavily into it.
"Are the children ready to burst through the doors?" He asked knowingly.
"Yes, but I asked if they could give me a short while to speak to you," she replied, taking a seat on the bed by his feet. "Kenna and Bash."
"What about them?"
Mary swallowed deeply. "Their role in securing France again, most of all, Kenna's. I believe they deserve something."
"They do," Francis agreed. "I was thinking about giving them better titles."
"Better titles?" Mary asked, confused. "There is nothing higher than a duke or a duchess which they already are."
Francis turned to her. "I've spoken with the Pope. Archduke and archduchess or even prince and princess? Bash may be a bastard, but he is still of royal blood. I have discussed that with the Pope. It doesn't mean that he will be in the line of succession, it would be just as a formality or a reward."
"A courtesy," Mary added.
"Yes," Francis said. "What do you think?"
Mary was shocked. "What do I think?"
"You are my queen."
She faltered. "I believe that Bash and Kenna deserve everything we have to offer."
"Then it is done. Perhaps this could convince them to remain in France... It would be sad to see them leave for Scotland," Francis said, getting out of his bed. "Don't you think?"
Mary nodded. "I was just thinking about how Kenna would go and I'd have no friends left at Court with Lola back in Italy with John and Greer still sorting out her affairs with Aloysius and their secret lives away from danger..."
"I will also personally see to their lands being rebuilt. As for the Castleroys, I will have men on that immediately on clearing Aloysius's name," Francis told her, putting a shirt on. "I have things to do but we can discuss this some more, later."
"Yes, of course."
She rose from her seat and watched as he opened the door, immediately lifting both girls into his arms. She laughed, smiling happily when their daughters kissed his cheeks and he finally placed them back down onto the ground to offer them his hands.
"Lead me away, Your Highnesses!" He told them before he was pulled away from the bedchamber.
Mary walked over to the door and smiled at the sight of Francis laughing along with their daughters. All of her familial relationships had been strained, but she was glad that the love the children had for their father had not lessened over the months. She was happy for them, happy for her husband even.
Her eyes landed on the Scottish Duke as he gave the king and princesses a wide smile and a bow before continuing on his way over to her. He bowed his head in a greeting and gave her a sad smile.
"Here is where I bid you, 'adieu'," he told her. "The Marquess had to leave before the sun came up."
Another one leaves, Mary thought. "Uncle, I thank you for everything."
"I didn't do-"
"You did a lot," Mary said softly. "I wish I could call Scotland home, but I am probably my people's most hated at the moment."
Robert sighed heavily. "You are our queen. Every decision you make is for the better of our country."
"Even reversing on a decision I made to make them happy?" Mary asked. "I highly doubt I would be very favoured. I should expect rotten food coming my way for years to come. At least England is a new start."
"I will overlook matters on your behalf," Robert promised her. "Mary, everything will turn out fine. Time is all we can give ourselves when faced with such woes. The French King loves you, he just has to settle back into life at Court before he can make things work with you."
Mary shrugged. "I doubt that," she said quietly. "Do not let me hold you any longer. I am sure that Kenna wishes to see you as well as the children and Bash. In fact, aren't they preparing to leave for Scotland?"
"It's the first I have heard of it," Robert said honestly. "I would not mind. All of my family are welcome at Castle Barton. That includes you and the children."
Mary swallowed deeply. "I may have to take you up on your offer a few times. For now, the break is welcomed," she replied, blinking back tears. "Uncle?"
"Yes?"
"Look after yourself."
"I will."
"Don't go sneaking into foreign Courts and masquerading as foreign nobles," she continued lightly. "Your covert days are over."
The Duke chuckled. "They are, indeed. Wasn't it exciting?"
"A little bit," Mary replied, smiling softly. It had felt right, ruling her country from the front line. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Mary. You will always be our Queen of Scots," Robert told her fondly before walking away.
Mary bowed her head. But she didn't have Scotland anymore.
...
"Uncle Bash!"
Francis almost tripped when Anne pulled at his hand, running towards her uncle with Francis stumbling behind her. They had ticked off a lot of things on their list and next was the stables, the girls desperate to see their beloved horses and ponies.
Bash looked up from his horse and gave the girls a bright smile. "I knew I sensed an air of authority and excitement around me. Overruling your father, are you?"
Anne nodded proudly. "We swam in the lake this morning!"
"And visited the orphanage," Rose added. "I gave them my teddies."
"We are big girls now. We do not need teddies," Anne said as if the stuffed toys were scandalous. "What else did we do, Papa? Can we tell Uncle Bash all about them?"
Francis chuckled. "Of course. But I think he is busy. Aren't you busy, Bash?"
Bash caught on. "Very busy, girls. I also have to source some pomegranates for your aunt. I can't find any around so, I might have to travel a good way away from here for them."
"Awh," Rose tutted. "But we also wanted you and Papa to have another race!"
"I think we are too old for horse races," Francis said, scratching the back of his head. "But we will see him at dinner."
"Yes, you will," Bash said, leading his horse away. "Try and not exhaust your father, girls!"
Francis scowled before planting on a bright smile for his daughters. "What is next on our list?"
"The chapel!" Anne told him. "I want to pray to God. I want to thank God for bringing us home and seeing you again, Papa."
Francis smiled happily, pressing long kisses on both of their heads. "I want to thank Him too."
They got back to the castle an hour before dinner. Francis had told the girls to wait in the nursery with James and their younger brothers as he went to find Mary.
They will need to handle this as quietly and sensitively as possible. There was already gossip about their strained marriage and he didn't care because it was what it was. Strained and unhappy and uncertain.
He knocked on Mary's door. When he didn't receive a reply, he entered and found her asleep on her writing desk, her diary wide open beside her sleeping head. The pen was still in her fingers and her eyes were dark and worn out under her closed eyes.
Francis sighed, walking over to her and gently prying the pen from her grip. He put the pen away and retrieved her diary, glancing at her before glancing back at the diary and reading its recent update.
'4th May. Francis spent the whole day with Anne and Rose. He even spent time with James, Peter and Joseph. He is a wonderful father and I am relieved that he has the chance to bond with all of them. I doubt any of the children have left his side throughout the day, they are attached at the hip most times. Last night, I learnt that Kenna and Bash are leaving with the children for a new life away from all of this mess to Scotland. Life there would suit them, but it will be lonely and the children will miss their uncle, aunt and cousins. I miss my family, but most of all, I miss Francis. I miss how close we used to be. I miss him plaiting my hair in the morning as he wakes before me. I miss his gentle kisses and bright blue eyes sparkling at me. I miss his love and affection. I miss his touch and his sweet words as we make love. I miss...'
He closed the diary and hid it in its usual spot whenever she stayed in her own bedchamber which was mostly when she was with child. Other times, it would be in his or what was their bedchamber. Now it's his for as long as he commands it to be.
Francis sighed. He felt guilty. She was obviously in pain and now, with her friends and family leaving or in the process of leaving, she had no one to turn to. Not even their children who seemed to avoid her or make snarky comments about her. He had told the girls off during the day, not even being able to imagine the abuse the girls threw against their mother when he was apart from them.
"Mary?"
Mary slowly opened her eyes and sat up, stretching. "I... I must have dozed off."
"We need to tell the children, Mary," he said. "We need to be honest with them."
Mary nodded. "If that is what you want."
Francis didn't know if that was what he wanted, but he said, "Yes."
"Very well," she replied. "Let's go."
...
"So you and Mama are not with each other any more?" Rose asked, eyes wide.
Francis nodded. "Sometimes when mamas and papas are not happy, they leave each other. That is called separation," he explained. Lord knew how many times their relatives separated. Henry and Catherine... Bash and Kenna... Himself and Mary... "But they remain married for their children."
"When we come to wake you in the morning, we will have to go to two places?" Anne asked.
"Yes," Mary said. "Separated means that we also live apart. We do not have a life together, but separate lives. My life is no longer tied to your father's life." It hurt her, stung her, broke her, but she kept her posture and voice even.
"Did you do something bad to Papa, Mama?" Rose asked her. "Is that why we went to Scotland?"
Mary dug her nails into her palms as she replied with, "Your father and I love you all very much. Our problems with each other are none of your concern. We want you to be happy and you are important to us. We went to Scotland to visit our family there. Just as a holiday as Papa was here."
"Why did you lie and tell us that Papa was working?" Anne asked her as well. "That bad man said that Papa was going to Heaven!"
"We didn't want you to hurt," Francis quickly explained, placing a hand on Mary's shaking ones. "I wanted you to be happy, I never wanted you to worry about me like the time we were worried about Robin and Rose."
The girls accepted their answers.
"Do you love Mama still?" Rose asked her father quietly.
Francis paused. He lifted Rose's chin and gave her a smile. "Your mother gave me you, Anne, James, Peter and Joseph. The love that I have for her is so much, my heart could burst. I have always wanted many children and she fulfiled my wish. I will never stop loving your mother, no matter what happens."
At least she had somewhat of a chance. Mary couldn't help but think about Olivia and all the women that Francis had been with over time. Perhaps he regretted not taking on a mistress. It had worked well for Henry.
In fact...
"A mistress," Mary proposed the minute the left the children playing amongst themselves before dinner.
Francis turned to his wife. "What about it?"
"You should take one on," Mary told him. "If you won't take me back, I won't deny you-"
"I will not take on a mistress-"
"An Italian or a lovely Fre-"
"Mary!"
Mary jumped, her footsteps coming to a halt. "What?"
"Just because we are separated does not mean I want to sleep with other women," he said. "Infidelity already destroyed us once, why would I go through that again?"
"So, you won't take on a lover because of me?" She asked coyly. "Oh, Francis. I am flattered. I am truly flattered."
"Would you stop being so full of yourself?" He snapped, continuing to walk on.
Mary scoffed. "That is the last thing that I am doing! Francis, I love you and I would do anything to have you take me back. I can only apologise so many times. You have three sons, Scotland and England, what else can I offer?"
"Time," he said simply. "Give me time. We can't force things. I certainly do not want to resent you more than I do right now."
"Would it help if we ate separately too?" She asked, willing herself not to cry.
"Yes, I guess that wouldn't be so bad."
"Alright. Then we can also schedule when we visit the children during the night," she replied. "So, I can give you time away from seeing me, of course."
Francis nodded. "Speak to the head governess about that."
"I will," she said, crossing her arms. "If we need to talk, how will we contact? Given that we should not see each other at all to make things easier for you."
"We have servants, guards, pageboys... Take your pick," was his reply.
"Well, then. As you are the king, you should attend dinner. I will have it in my rooms," she concluded. "Good evening, Francis."
She all but stormed off, her patience wearing thin. The second she got to her bedchamber. She slammed the door and let out a frustrated scream. She then calmed down and eyed her writing table.
Her heart sank when she found that her diary was gone.
"But I left it..."
Francis, she thought, covering her face.
And he probably read all of her deepest thoughts two times over.
...
Later that night, Francis rested his head against the desk of his offices. He was tired, wanting to give himself at least a week to recover, but he couldn't. He had three countries under his rule.
Was that too much? Too desperate? Too greedy?
Many kings had been surprised at the news, sending offers to curry favour with him and Mary. All who wanted the chance to have a slice from Francis's conqueror pie.
He burnt the edge of one marriage proposal of one of his sons with the candle, almost rolling his eyes at the insulting offer. It reminded him of the offer Mary had made her subjects... his subjects about their daughter's hand in marriage.
Francis had tried to be supportive, but it wasn't worth it at all. Not after everything. Missing Christmas, the birth of his sons, his eldest son's birthday... He let out a disgruntled sound, ripping up the next letter he opened without a second glance.
It was from Luc. He didn't know what to do with his sister's husband. He could either kill him and be done with it or seek an annulment so Claude was free from his clutches.
"Sometimes," Leith began, entering without knocking. "I forget how ruthless Bash is."
"Antoine deserved it," Francis said warily. "Any updates on our other prisoners?"
Leith nodded. "Some squealed like the pigs they were. Some begged for their families to be pardoned. It was tedious."
"It had to be done," came Francis's distracted reply as he stared at the ripped pieces of Luc's letter. "Claude."
"What about her?"
Francis looked up at Leith. "Oh, she is going to Scotland with the Duke and she's taking her son with her."
Leith nodded slowly, swallowing deeply. "I will miss her."
"What happened was not any of our faults-"
"I could have protected her. After all, we did have something in the past," Leith said. "I should continue my duties. Something tells me that I will be promoted."
Francis smiled wryly. "Not if I have something to do with that. I can't let Bash leave. Nor Kenna for that matter - Mary will miss her and right now, she needs people she can trust."
"She is the most hated woman of not one, not two, but three countries," Leith added. "The things I hear, you would not like to hear."
"What are they saying about Mary?"
"Gossip," Leith said, waving the matter off. "Such as her sleeping with Antoine to increase our imprisonment and other stupid things like that. Also that she should never have been a queen in the first place. they wish her dead which I believe it's utterly stupid and overexaggerated-"
"Do you know where she is?"
Leith shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't."
Francis closed his eyes. "Should I?"
"Should you 'what'?"
"Comfort her?"
"I can't tell you what to do, you are a king. Should I call you 'Your Majesty' to remind you?" Leith asked lightly. "If you even have to ask, that says something."
Francis picked up the next letter.
"And there's your answer," Leith whispered sadly before turning and leaving.
...
As it was not her time to visit the children and read them a bedtime story yet, Mary decided to look for her favourite nephew. Robin had been awkward around her, lately, but he still respected her and she respected him.
She came bearing gifts for Scotland and France's little hero, her memories of those fateful weeks still in her mind. A basket that was full of sugar cookies, toys and lemonade for her nephew.
Mary planted a bright smile on her face and headed towards his bedchamber. Probably the last time she would ever do this, with him moving to Scotland with his parents, her dearest friends and family in the whole wide world.
Tears sprung to her eyes and she pushed her shoulders back. She couldn't cry, not now. She had to visit Robin and tell him how much she loved him and then let him and her best friend go.
Just as she was about to knock on the door, she saw it opened a crack and voices inside. Curiously, she opened the door a little bit wider and saw Kenna and Bash playing with their children.
Mary's heart fell to the bottom of her stomach as she watched the family interact, smile, joke and laugh with each other. Robin was being taught how to plait his little sister's brunette locks and Bash stared at his wife lovingly, as if she was the only one in the world.
Francis used to look at Mary like that.
"Robin, what do you think about us moving to Scotland?" Kenna asked suddenly, surprising Mary. She had thought they would have told the children, well Robin, about their plans.
Robin paused from his plaiting to look at both of his parents. "Forever?"
"Yes," Bash said. "We can see Grandpapa Robert every day and we will have early morning horse rides along the coast. We can go exploring, your mother will show us all the places she went to as a child. A peaceful life."
Robin sighed heavily. "But we will leave Anne and Rose. They are my best friends."
"You have cousins on my side as well," Kenna told him. "You will befriend them. Scotland is a new start for us, we need to focus on the good and not the bad."
"I don't want to leave... France is our home and we keep moving! I want to go back to Avon!" Robin cried out. "I want my own floor again."
Bash cupped his son's chin. "You are too spoilt," he teased the boy. "But our home is gone. You can have your own floor again in Scotland. Think about it, we can go fishing and row a boat in the river."
Robin bowed his head. "Do I have a choice? Can't Uncle Francis and Aunt Mary look after me? Aunt Mary did when we went to Scotland. I'm sick of Scotland."
"We know," Kenna whispered sadly. "But it's safer for us."
"Sometimes change is exactly what we need," Bash added. "We may not like it always, but it is for the better good. It's scary, but this is a good scary. Who knows? You might prefer life in Scotland more than a life in France."
Robin nodded. "Won't we be missed?"
"We will," Kenna said. "Oh, we will."
"Although we are heavily thinking about this, we can remain in France at any point and slow down," Bash assured him. "It isn't a straight-away thing. We have time."
Kenna nodded happily. "And whatever happens, we will always be a family."
Mary backed away and closed the door quietly. She left the basket with a guard who eyed her warily before leaving for her bedchamber. She felt like a criminal in her own home. She felt awful and she wanted the stares and gossip to stop.
Upon entering her bedchamber, she retrieved the wine jug and poured herself a goblet full. She downed it all and poured another. It looked like this wine was her only comfort and warmth for this night.