We are now in July following the end bit of the last chapter. It has almost been a month since they left for war. The Azores battle is based on real-life Franco-Spaniard battle, Battle of Ponta Delgada but altered to fit the story, of course. Now, you guys know how much I love my history so... I'm evil when I don't change some things that aren't in our favour. Just a heads-up, okay? Don't hate me! I love you! Oh, and you know when Bash and Delphine were linked? I won't say more.

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BlerBlerBler [chapter 65]: It is indeed! You'll just have to wait and see ;)

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"And what do you say, Your Majesty," A noble began, looking at Mary with a firm glare. "As the war continues to wage on, who will pay for it? Whose crops will be shipped off to feed those soldiers? We are feeding Scottish, Irish and English soldiers, why can't their own lands suffice them?!"

Mary glanced down at him in indifference. "I understand your frustration Lord Hanequart, but as France is closer to Spain, the Netherlands and Portugal, it makes sense for France to foot the bill when it comes to feeding our men. Yes, our as the English, Irish and Scottish forces kneel to your king, Francis II of France, Scotland, England and Ireland. By the time we deliver food from across the ocean, they would have spoilt and then our men will starve and no longer be able to fight."

Hanequart bowed his head. "I see, Your Majesty."

"I am glad you do," Mary said, almost snappily. Her pregnancy wasn't making her mood nicer but it wasn't even the pregnancy. It was these dimwits who thought they could bully her now that she 'couldn't hide behind the King'. She scoffed, eyeing Robert incredulously.

"Lord Hanequart," Robert said. "You may take leave and invite the next person in."

The man couldn't get out any quicker, letting a noblewoman enter with her sons. "My husband fights for our King and countries," she said, eyes watery with tears. "He runs our lands, and now soldiers passing through from England raid them! How am I supposed to keep our livelihood going, Your Majesty?"

Mary nodded in understanding. "I will speak with our Ambassador in England," Mary told her. "Ensure he lets Archduchess Elizabeth know of the situation so she can handle it with care. For now, accept some coin in preserving your lands until your husband returns." She gave Robert the nod.

He stepped down the stairs from his position standing beside the Queen and handed the noblewoman a bag full of money. At times like these, Mary was glad she had a wealthy mother-in-law in Catherine and a wealthy brother-in-law in Bash. She didn't have any idea of how their wealth came to be for the most part but she wasn't complaining.

"Oh, thank you, Your Majesty," the woman said, curtseying as her sons bowed. "You are ever so kind."

"Take some out to treat the children. No child should frown in these times," Robert said kindly with Mary's permission.

"Oh, thank you," the woman almost hugged him as she couldn't touch Mary but stopped herself, bowed her head in respect and left, sobbing happily.

"Dear Lord," Mary mumbled, rubbing her bump. "Was she the last one?"

Robert nodded. "Indeed. You are due tea with Cardinal Leo."

Mary sighed. "And the children?"

"In the care of your Ladies," Robert replied. "Is there anything you wish for me to do?"

Mary bit her lip nervously and nodded. "Get me an audience with the leader of the Catholic League."

"Y-Your Majesty?"

"It was too soon that Francis had to leave before currying favour with them," she explained. "I will do it in his place. Invite them, wine and dine them, offer them the best entertainment and secure deals so they do not turn against us after they accepted Philip's finances."

Robert bowed. "Very well. I will do so right away."

Mary gave him a thankful smile and sighed as he left her to her thoughts.

...

The Azores was hot and humid and Bash wiped the sweat from his forehead. He, along with some men who had offboarded their fleet and on-land army, trudged through the sand of the São Miguel Island. A lot of its inhabitants were French loyalists, refusing to kneel to their new Portuguese King from Spain.

It was a simple battle. Help these Portuguese people defend themselves against Spain. In turn, they will be loyal to France and help France maybe one day consume Portugal overall. One part at a time.

They would subdue the São Miguel and Santa Maria Islands - bring them into French colonisation with honourable and attractive rewards - and capture the treasure fleet with their large strength and army that included sixty warships.

"Your Grace," one of the commanders called for Bash.

Bash still felt awkward about his titles now that he'd risen through the ranks since he was a child. He was always 'bastard' or 'my lord' and now recently over the years for his and his wife's efforts for France, 'Your Grace'. Apparently, reserved for great dukes and archdukes as well as monarchs. At this point, he was too disinterested about titles to insist on the man calling him by his chosen name.

"Yes?"

"It is said that the Spanish fleet is two days away," the man said. He was an Italian, loyal to France. Filippo di Piero Strozzi, respectful and in awe of the French King's brother despite being a good fifteen years or twenty years even older than Bash.

Bash nodded. "Remain the ships at sea, those who are near the land should offboard and help build shelters for themselves and the people on the island. We do not know if the Spaniards will attack from inland."

The reason for on-land shelter was due to his seasickness. It had been a long while since he'd been out to sea and he had to stop himself from throwing up everywhere when disembarking the ship. He surely couldn't sleep nor fight on a moving ground. Perhaps it was homesickness and not sea? He didn't know and didn't have the time to think about it.

Strozzi nodded and bowed his head. "Yes, Your Grace."

"Bash."

"Pardon?"

"We're comrades," Bash said, looking out to sea where the beautiful sight of the French fleet rode the waves. "Just Bash. We don't need to waste time on formalities."

"O-Of course, Bash," Strozzi said before leaving his side.

The element of surprise, Bash thought. They'd received word that the treasure fleet had intended to land on the Azores and attack from there, going over the seven islands but they would be surprised to be met with the French instead, building a barrier for the islands.

He had separated his army, sending some fleet and forces to Santa Maria and he was yet to get word of their success on landing there before the Spaniards.

After the tents had been put up, Bash made his way to his, guards protecting it. It was all a bizarre affair. Just for him. The last time he'd set off for France to check on relations in-country, he had been with Francis and obviously welcomed to remain in his brother's tent but alone in his own tent? With men bowing at his feet? If only his father could see him now. He didn't need a crown, he just wanted respect and Francis was the best brother and king to make that happen. A bastard had surely risen high in the ranks and it was happening all over the world, half-brothers of powerful kings earning their place and love from their people.

Respect.

"Don't bow," Bash told the guards. "No one is to disturb me. I have important documents to write."

"Yes, Your Grace," the first guard said.

"Shall I retrieve your page?" The second guard asked.

Bash nodded, grateful his page and head guard, Cassius had come with him; their services, not all that needed at an already heavily-guarded Avon.

"Yes. Thank you."

Two days later, Bash's eyes snapped open, his body now awake and alert when he heard shouting. He hadn't undressed from his armour, taking to sleep while seated at his desk.

He grabbed his sword and sheathed it, heading out to see ships set aflame in the dark, early morning. The French's or the Spaniards', he did not know.

After a moment, running towards the action, he saw that it was the Spaniards' fleet - the treasure fleet that had some of theirs aflame. His men had done well, despite not fetching for him immediately.

Cassius ran up to him. "You are awake!" He began. "We were coming to retrieve you. The Spaniards..." A breath. "They came to offer a pardon to the people but-"

"They started to attack anyway," Bash finished for him. "Capture the fleet - let every helmsman divert all their ships towards the treasure fleet and let the captains know to use as much gunpower as possible on board. Not wasteful though."

"I will!" Cassius cried out, running off.

Bash rethought his seasickness, putting it down to being homesick and made to get on board his ship. He met with Strozzi, the captain, instructing him to tell his men to use the wind to their advantage. The message was quickly relayed to all ships.

He could feel his stomach churning but now was not the time for fainted stomachs and he put it down to anxiety this time, quickly telling himself that from what they could see, their fleet was bigger, stronger, resilient.

The Spanish were outnumbered, two to one.

He moved down the deck, seeing one man on a Spanish ship, staring him down. He had to squint to make out his face and Bash knew who it was. Álvaro de Bazán or Santa Cruz - the Spaniard who was one that had the King of Spain's ear - Elisabeth had warned her brothers about this one, he seldom put her down in public. He was on their biggest ship, São Mateus, a vessel of 750 tonnes armed with 30 guns. Information from Elisabeth was proving well - this ship was her former husband's favourite and she'd been on board once after it had been built, going to bless the ship with Philip's permission.

That ship will be destroyed, Bash decided.

"Direct the canons to the largest ship!" Bash ordered, a soldier quickly running down to instruct the men to ready the canons. The ship shifted on the sea and Bash almost vomited but he closed his eyes and cleared his mind. He didn't know where all of this sickness was coming from, was he really scared?

They managed to surround the ship where Santa Cruz was on board, batter it with artillery and have it boarded by several French ships but her sailors stood their ground. In fact, began to fight back twice as hard under Santa Cruz's orders.

Bash swallowed hard, seeing that the Spaniards had seemingly grown some, starting to get closer to the French - taking the fight back to them.

"Bash!" Strozzi cried out. "What do we do?"

"Keep firing the canons!" Bash told him, going down himself to see what was taking his men so long. "Aim them at the two largest - São Martinho and São Mateus." His spy had also done well in giving him information - the man was later found with his throat slit via word from Avon.

Bash would have to prepare a funeral, the man had no family.

"They are arranging themselves in a line abreast!" Strozzi announced.

"Use our artillery with sense at mutually supporting groups of four to charge! Assail each of them one of the great vessels of the enemy!" Bash ordered.

Bash, at this point, then filled a canon himself and had the man working it, fire it off. They had no time to was-

They were all jolted back, the ship hit as a great hole appeared on the ground beneath them, quickly filling with water.

"Keep firing!" Bash said, getting back up. "Do not offboard until absolutely necessary!" They had to keep fighting.

He knew they'd mentally think when exactly was that point but he knew these men were not stupid even if illiterate.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the São Mateus went down, the ship of Santa Cruz. He hoped the man to be dead if not soon enough.

But then he felt something hit his chest, straight through his armour. Strozzi looked down and he looked down himself, pressing a gloved hand over the hole. Blood.

He'd been shot by a gun.

"Your Grace-"

Bash felt his legs buckle from beneath him, feeling supported by Strozzi. "I'm fine," he hissed out, the taste of metallic in his mouth. "Keep fi-"

They were hit again, this time with another canon which had now began to promptly sink his ship. All around him, Bash could see his ships sinking as he got to his knees, his strength quickly leaving him as the blood refused to stem. Most were still fighting and Cassius, upon seeing his master's descend had taken it upon himself to command.

Then there was the on-land battle which looked like they were winning. Thankfully.

Water filled the ship and before the men could jump it, it split in half entirely with a loud groan and creak, sending them all into the ocean in one quick motion.

Bash could feel himself sink.

...

Kenna gasped in pain, pressing a hand against her chest as Lola and Greer reached out to steady her, Mary's eyes wide in concern. Kenna swallowed hard, waving it off with a soft chuckle but then she let out a cry, her legs buckling as the pain intensified.

"Kenna! What is it?" Mary demanded, kneeling to cup her friend's now sweaty cheeks. "Is it the baby? Where's the pain?"

"My heart," Kenna sobbed.

"Fetch Nostradamus!" Mary told Greer who began to run off, leaving her and Lola to console Kenna. "We need to get you to your bedchambers."

Kenna nodded shakily. "I-I think I can-" She cut herself off with another cry of pain, telling them that she didn't know what was happening but it was terrifying her.

Mary and Lola shared a look and the queen looked up to see Cardinal Leo hastily making his way over. "Your Eminence."

"Is Her Grace alright?" He asked, using his cane to support him as he came to kneel before the women. "We can hear her screams across the castle."

Mary mentally cursed before quickly asking for forgiveness. "She is taken unwell."

"Is it the babe?"

"We do not believe so," Mary replied as a guard easily lifted the Archduchess into his arms, the woman shivering and sobbing.

When they had her in her bed, Nostradamus doing all he could to find out what was going on, he gave Mary a look.

"Could you all empty the room?" She ordered, sending the Cardinal a grateful smile as Lola and Greer led the concerned man of God out. "What is it, Nostradamus? Tell me!"

"I must... I must use my-"

"Do whatever you must," Mary said firmly, granting him permission.

Nostradamus took a deep breath in and placed a hand on Kenna's forehead, the woman having been given something to sleep. His eyes flashed with images and he gasped, coming back to the room.

"Y-Your Majesty-"

"What is it?!"

Nostradamus warily met Mary's eyes. "Sebastian's fleet was defeated."

Mary gasped, covering her mouth. "I-Is he dead?"

"I do not know. All I saw were ships burning and some fleeing but his ship... It was sunk and on flames," the man whispered. "I think I know what is going on. He was linked to the woman in the woods, the healer. Perhaps after her death, he became linked to-"

"Kenna..., granting their son the gift of seeing," Mary finished quietly. "Do not speak a word of this. She is ill with a fever, it will break soon."

"Of course," Nostradamus said, already leaving some vials to make it seem as such.

Mary gave him a pointed look. "We must keep the word of their defeat quiet. I have to let Francis know somehow. I have to seek out an army to help defend them. Finish what they started because I refuse to believe that my brother-in-law is defeated when our fleet is bigger than the treasure fleet."

She got up, squeezing an unconscious Kenna's hand before leaving the room. She turned to her ladies and Cardinal Leo. None of whom knew of the family's pagan or seeing ways. It is a secret that she would take to the grave along with Francis, Bash, Kenna and the boy himself, Robert Francis.

"Fever," Mary said, making them gasp. "From pain in the heart. The stress of our husbands and sons at war was getting to her. We must leave her on bed rest for her health and the baby's."

The Cardinal nodded in understanding. "May I pray for her?"

Mary swallowed hard, meeting his eyes. "Pray for us all, Your Eminence."

Pray for us all.