Guys, my writer's block has returned somewhat. Recently, in the UK, our Prime Minister was admitted to the hospital with severe COVID-19 symptoms. I pray for every one of you, your friends and family. Together, we will get through this and when we can, give our loved ones big, tight hugs. I feel so uninspired but you guys are a great support. Stay safe, guys.

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Guest (1) [chapter 71]: I can't either! The girls find out soon.

elder441 [chapter 71]: We will do everything in our power to make sure Francis lives. More on the cause, cure and culprit to come next chapter. I hope you and everyone else are staying safe and healthy too. These are uncertain times and I am praying for everyone. You are all beautiful souls and thank you.

"What is wrong with my son?"

Mary jumped and so did her ladies who turned to Catherine, mostly confused but the Queen slightly fearful.

"Catherine, what-"

"You three, out. Now," Catherine ordered the ladies and they hurried out before Mary rose from her bed and poured them drinks.

Mary offered Catherine a cup and wasn't surprised when the Queen rejected it. "I do not know what is wrong with Francis, Catherine."

"You've been attached to his side. He can't use the chamberpot without his puppy following him," Catherine snapped.

Mary smiled wryly. "He had the flu, remember? I was worried, you saw how he fainted at the gift opening."

"I guess you're right," Catherine mumbled. "Do you know if he is unwell? As in long-term?"

Mary frowned. "He would tell me."

"Francis," Catherine began carefully. "Tends to keep a lot of things from people. Me, included. If he wants, you could be none the wiser. This time, I know you know something."

Mary didn't back down. "If you are so certain, why don't you speak to Francis himself?"

"What changes has he done in his state of bed rest?"

"Ask him."

"Mary, I thought we'd be honest with each other," Catherine said, lifting a strand of Mary's hair and playing with it. "Tell me, Mary."

Mary wasn't fazed. "I have to attend to my daughters. Will we be seeing you for supper?"

"I will find out. One way or another," Catherine told her, her hand dropping to her side. "When I do, I know exactly who to blame."

Mary paused by her doors. "I guess you might only have yourself to blame."

Catherine narrowed her eyes and watched the younger woman leave.

...

"Sebastian!"

"Dear God," Bash muttered, rolling his eyes and turning to face his stepmother. "How can I be of help?"

"Drop the niceties," Catherine told him. "I heard you and Francis. What is wrong with my son?"

Bash frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Permanent fix? Painful treatment? Now be careful with your next answer, Sebastian," Catherine warned him.

Bash raised his brows. "Why don't you ask Francis himself?"

"Tell me-"

"The flu," Bash said. "He's been sick with the flu and it's a stubborn little illness. He is seeking remedies."

Catherine scoffed, eyeing Bash's horse. "Would be a shame if your horse was to become indisposed."

Bash let out a soft chuckle in disbelief. "Catherine, don't shoot the messenger. Hear it from the horse's mouth himself."

"Just tell me..." Catherine trailed off, unsure. "Is he dying?"

Bash raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get that idea?"

"We can't be too comfortable," she replied. "France depends on Francis being healthy. We've just won a war, and if our king dies... We will be seen as weak again."

"Francis is not dying," Bash told her. "He is perfectly fine, just getting through this stubborn flu."

Catherine started to walk away. "If you're lying, Sebastian..."

She kept her threat unsaid and she knew that he knew what she was capable of. She shivered, scolding herself for coming out without her cloak. The last time she did, she was willing to die and join her husband and dead daughters in the afterlife. April was not warm and it reflected the coldness in her chest from her worry.

Catherine wanted to live more than ever. Be involved in her present children's lives as well as their children's. Getting to know Claude's son was a blessing, the boy was very smart even though his father was a traitor and her granddaughters from Leeza were obsessed with their Italian grandmother, eager to learn her language as she pretended not to know Spanish just to spend time with them as they tutored her.

They were finally happy, Catherine had no patience for grief. Much less mourning for a king who had gained a lot of favour.

When she entered the castle, she spotted Francis and Mary laughing, sharing a quick, cheeky kiss before parting ways. The knot in her stomach loosened somewhat and she believed that maybe the young Queen and King's Deputy were telling the truth after all. Perhaps Francis was fighting the flu and wasn't dying.

Or her son was keeping his secret from them just as much as he was keeping it from her.

...

After the second week of keeping his secret, Francis woke up to find his wife staring at him curiously.

"Have I grown two heads?" He asked good-naturedly.

Mary laughed softly, pressing a kiss on his lips. "Maybe," she replied jokingly. "No, I was just thinking..."

"About...?"

"Tell everyone," she whispered. "Francis, I know you try to hide it but I know you're getting worse."

Francis swallowed hard, cupping her cheeks. "Mary, I don't want our children to-"

"They'll still love you."

"I know. But do we really want them to see me like this? Pale as a ghost, bleeding everywhere?" He asked. "I know it scares you to wake up to that most mornings. How do you think the children will take that? Caterina is not even old enough to remember me but I still don't want her to know that."

Mary's eyes watered and she looked away from him. "What if you just die and they wouldn't have had a chance to say goodbye properly? To not cherish the moments you would have given them? They're resilient. Look at me, I was days old when my father died and I became queen. I made it out alive."

Francis ran his fingers through her hair. "I don't think they would cope. Especially the girls-"

"The girls are strong, Francis!" Mary cried out, getting out of their bed and pacing the room. "Stronger than I ever was at their age! Perhaps since they had us both and I was only with my mother or nuns. Our daughters might just surprise you."

Francis faltered, tears spilling from his eyes. "They're children, Mary."

"But they're our children," Mary breathed out. "If they are as strong as us, shouldn't we give them a chance to prove it? I would want to know if my parent was dying. Please, Francis?"

Francis covered his face before he nodded.

"Fine."

"Thank you," she whispered. "We will tell everyone over breakfast."

...

"Oh, Papa!" Anne cried out, holding a hand to her chest as she saw her father through her vanity mirror. "Don't kings know how to knock?"

Francis chuckled, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. "Is that the new lip rouge I gave you for Christmas?"

"Yes," Anne replied, putting it on and kissing her lips. "I never knew the Dutch people could do good makeup."

"Don't use too much," Francis said.

"Papa, I am a woman now," Anne said dismissively. "I have to look exquisite. Be the envy of many."

Francis pulled a face and smiled when she caught it through the mirror. "Your mother didn't like makeup. She always tried to rub it off the first chance she got. She was more-"

"Unladylike?" Anne asked teasingly. "And she's a queen!"

"We were kids-"

"She was still a queen."

Francis scowled lightly. "Fine," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Anne, what would you say if you became the first Queen Marie of Sweden next year?"

Anne gasped, turning to face him fully. "I will be a queen next year?"

"Yes," Francis affirmed. "I have been speaking with King Oskar and his regent. Instead of waiting until you are sixteen, you will marry him here, in France, before leaving for your honeymoon tour and permanently residing in Sweden."

Anne blinked in surprise. "I-It's too soon."

"Too soon? My love, it's a year away."

Anne nodded shakily, planting a small smile on her face. "Well, whatever you think is best, Papa."

Francis frowned. "Don't you want to marry Oskar? I believed you liked him?"

Anne looked down at her powder. "I am not so sure about him, Papa."

"Why not?"

"Lust and love are two different things, aren't they?"

Francis nodded. "They are."

"Duty and love are also two different things," Anne said.

"I guess."

"What if I feigned love? Or even infatuation?" Anne asked quietly. "To make you and Mother happy?"

Francis gasped in realisation. "Anne, your mother and I want you to be happy. We want what is best for you and ultimately for our kingdoms. But your happiness comes first and if you do not love Oskar then..."

"I wish I was like Mama," Anne said, her voice breaking. "I'd be able to marry who I want when I want. I may even make Rose or my brothers my heirs."

"Even though she is a queen, your mother and I were still arranged to marry, to benefit France and Scotland," Francis told her gently.

"But you fell in love, or you were in love before you married!"

"Yes but-"

"I don't love Oskar! And he loves..." She faltered. "He'll have mistresses and I won't be able to please him. I will be discarded and people will talk behind my back."

Francis rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What if you spent Summer in Sweden? Gain favour with the Swedes, with Oskar."

"What if I mess things up?"

"You won't," Francis assured her. "And you know, Anne? Even if you feel nothing for him now, what's not to say that you won't fall for him or become good friends in the future? Marriage is not always about love or duty, it is about friendship and understanding. I know it is frowned upon for a queen to have a lover when her husband has his mistresses but you could find a confidante in Oskar. Don't give up just yet, darling."

Anne smiled a little. "You're right. Perhaps he'll forget all about that kitchen maid when I come to visit."

"There's my overconfident daughter," Francis said, chuckling. "Come along, it's breakfast."

...

Francis knew it was cruel. To give his daughter hope about her future, only to shatter her with the news of his impending demise. He knew he had people like his brother and nephew, doing all they could to save him but he still had to prepare for the fact that he might not make it. They didn't feel what he was feeling inside.

Claude helped Peter and Lawrence eat as it was Leeza who took over helping James and Joseph, giving Mary a much-needed break to feed Caterina. Mary was the sort of queen to feed her own babies, not always relying on wetnurses and Francis smiled across the table, making her blush and look up as if she knew he was studying her feeding their youngest.

"You better coverup," Leeza mock-whispered. "The King is becoming brazen."

The adults laughed as the older children gagged at the insinuation, making their crude aunt (or mother in Bella and Kitty's cases) laugh even more.

"You should eat more meats," Claude began, turning to Francis briefly. "You are looking pale, brother."

Francis sipped his wine. "I will take that to mind."

"Seriously?" Claude asked, surprised. "Oh, you're welcome for the advice."

He grinned. "Thank you."

"So you want to become a doctor?" Rose asked Robin, gaining a few adults' attentions. "That is very honourable, Robin!"

Robin blushed, looking down at his meal. "I have to wait until I am sixteen before attending medical school," he said. "Dr Paré has already invited me to become his apprentice when I finish." He glanced at Francis. "Observation and evidence, not spiritual belief will save a patient."

"What else have you learned from those horrid books?" Kenna asked, pulling a face from beside her curious husband. "Too much gore and detail. Do people really use red-hot irons to stem bleeding?"

"Dr Paré does!" Robin told his mother excitedly. "I have seen it happen. One of the guards went out for a ride and was attacked by an animal. He's fine now!"

The women shivered in disgust.

"Men," they muttered before sharing giggles.

"Perhaps we should invite his wife and children to stay here," Catherine began. "If his stay is long-term."

Francis nodded. "Indeed. I have given him the option, he wrote to them this morning."

"And why is he staying here for long?" Rose asked her father. "Surely he is not needed. He's a royal doctor and you are of sound mind and health."

"Are you trying to sabotage my studying?" Robin asked her as Francis sent him a grateful nod. "I will study night and day to become the best surgeon in France."

Claude nodded. "That is very good, Robin. And you know what makes me even more proud of you?"

"What, Aunt Claude?"

"The fact that you are learning from the man who will make a false arm for my future husband."

Everyone let out gasps of awe and approving murmur.

"Are those real?" Leeza asked.

"I have read that pirates have false legs!" Anne called out. "Papa, is it going to be the same for Uncle Leith?"

Francis laughed, controlling the excited chatter. "Indeed. I was surprised when Leith told me but it seems that Dr Paré will help him with that."

"The man is truly a wonder," Catherine said, raising her cup. "Is there not a miracle he can't perform?"

"Saving my life."

Everyone silenced and turned to Francis who kept his gaze down on his plate. He'd barely eaten, feeling the nausea of confessing his illness to his family increase by the second.

"Pardon?" Anne whispered, eyes wide.

Francis's eyes met her eyes, Rose's, Leeza's, Claude's, John's and finally, his mother's.

"You might have noticed that I have not been well of late," he told them. "That's because I am... well, I am dying." I might not even make it to Christmas.

"No, that can't be," Rose said, her voice breaking as she covered her mouth and left the table, rushing out of the room.

Anne slowly got up, using the table to steady her and she begged her father with her eyes. "You're lying."

"I wish I was," Francis said, smiling sadly. "I wouldn't lie, not about this."

"Mother?"

Mary looked up from Caterina's sleeping face to see most of the table's diners looking at her. "Yes?"

"Did you know?"

"I found out," she whispered. "And I told him to tell you all or I would have." I can't have Catherine blaming me for the rest of her days.

Anne took a sharp intake of breath in and released it. "If you'd excuse me. I want to see where Rose has got to."

She left and John stared at his father in disbelief. "What?"

"John, I-"

"I think I'm going to join them," John muttered, leaving the room as well.

Catherine stood, downed her cup and refilled it before raising it towards her son. "God save the King!" She said, but Francis flinched at the sarcasm in the tone. His mother was just hurting. "Oh, my darling boy..."

She hurried over to him and pressed his head into her chest, hugging him tightly as he closed his eyes. He felt another pair of arms wrap around him and he recognised the smell of Spanish hibiscus - Leeza.

Then another pair of arms, this time smelling fruitier and gentle. He knew it was Claude and he could feel their tears mixing with his as he heard his young sons question their mother as to why everyone was sad.

"Oh, my darlings," Mary breathed out, wiping some crumbs off James's cheek. "We're sad because Papa might have to join God sooner than later."

"Oh," Joseph said softly.

"We don't want God to take Papa," Peter added.

James nodded. "Can't he stay with us?"

Mary let out a sob but she quickly masked it with a smile. "All we want is for him to stay with us forever and ever, but when God wants someone, we can't deny Him that."

Kenna rose from her seat, wiping her tears as she offered her hands to Xander and Ana and gestured for the little princes to follow her. "Let's see if we can play on your rocking horses, sweethearts. Come along now."

Mary kissed James's head before he hurried off to join his aunt, brothers and cousins. She swallowed hard and let the wetnurse take Caterina from her before she fixed herself up and dabbed at her eyes. She looked up and saw Francis still being held by his mother and sisters and she shared a wary smile with Bash before excusing herself.

When she rounded the hall, her legs gave over and she sobbed on the floor, feeling her heart break with every sound she made.

"Your Majesty-"

"I'm fine!" She snapped, shooing the guards away. "Just... leave me."

The guards were unsure but one whispered to the other and the other quickly hurried off before returning with Lola and Greer.

"Mary, what is it?" Greer asked softly, taking Mary's tiara from her head when the queen began to attempt to take it off in distress.

"Francis is dying," she told them, their eyes widening in disbelief.

Lola gaped. "No..."

"Yes," Mary whispered, shrugging futilely. "My husband and king, is dying."

And she didn't know how to stop it.