Some days had passed. The Empress sat in the King of France's nursery, the young child on her lap silently suckling against her breast. James had been labelled 'the sweetest, most perfect child in court' over his eighteen months of life, a moniker that Mary herself once held when she was a child. He reached for his mothers' hand, looking up at her, dark eyes big. Mary had a lot to think about, absentmindedly brushing her fingers against the silky raven strands of her son's hair as she stared into nothing, trying to figure out where to go from here.
Her marriage to Henry was well on it's way to being annulled, for annulment was no easy feat to attain, even with Emperors and Empresses doing the asking. The Vatican representatives were doing everything they could, the Medici Pope granting her his protection from the worst possible punishment due to the fact her son held Medici blood. Mary knew that would be enough to protect her from death, and as long as they did it quietly, their names wouldn't be slandered in the public eye. But, the Empress was well aware that it wouldn't be enough to salvage her legal marriage.
Where did she and Francis stand? It had been a fortnight since his return, their loud points then were clear, but what would happen now? Would they always fight about the abandonment and betrayal she suffered? Would they always argue because of Lola and her bastard? How could they move on from this? Could they even move on from this? Or, would they simply physically separate to lead separate lives? Could she simply leave France and go to England or Scotland? Would he stay here and raise his bastard, only seeing his wife and legitimate heir until Mary got pregnant again?
As much as she hated to admit it, Mary didn't want to live like that. The Empress could clearly remember what Henry and Catherine's marriage was, and loathed to repeat it with her own Valois blooded husband. She knew all too well the effect it had on Catherine and Henry's children, their oldest, specifically. As children and adults, the duo spent many nights huddled together as they bonded over the lack of parentage they had both received, and swore to each other to be different when their time came. But now it had, she didn't know what to do about it.
She didn't want to live how Catherine had lived. With a husband who has mistresses and bastard children littered all over the country. She didn't want to feel court's neglect and scorn when she wasn't with child and a mistress was. Most of all, she didn't want to see the personification of betrayal every time she stepped into her court. Mary would never admit it aloud, but she was afraid. She didn't want to do this anymore, simply wishing for things to go back to how they were. It sounded harsh, but she wished for Francis to actually be gone forever.
It would so so much simpler. Although James would never know the father who sired him, he'd have a father figure to raise him, a country at his fingertips and an empire in his future. James would be raised right, with plenty of legitimate half brothers and sisters who he could protect and love, and he'd turn out to be a good man. Mary and Henry would raise him to be loyal to his betrothed, never to stray from her, to be a good King and put his people first, always.
Now, she didn't know how his life would turn out.
Would he grow to resent his father for siring a bastard son? Even at the tender age of almost nineteen months, James was incredibly perceptive and protective of his mother. He wouldn't let Henry near her until he'd figured out Darnley's character, and clearly wouldn't trust some courtiers who could do his mother wrong. Even as a newborn, he refused to take to the wet nurse and refused to sleep wherever his mother wasn't at. He somehow could sense those who his mother didn't like or trust, never fully trusting them in return. What would he do when Francis was finally introduced?
Would he cry the first time his father held him? Would he sense his mothers' distress at seeing her still lawful husband, not letting him in? Whilst he trusted Bash and James completely, what would he do when in the presence of Francis' bastard son? Would he scream and cry? Would he grow to resent and hate him? Would he train any -god forbid- brothers and sisters he had to do the same? Simply because his mother didn't want him at court? For every bodies sakes, he and his half brother could never meet, it was simply too risky.
A knock at the door. Mary looked up as she page came into the room, the tall blonde, Anna.
"Forgive me, your Imperial Majesty," she said as Mary slid a blanket over James. "but the Queen Grandmother wishes to speak with you." she said. Mary nodded.
"Let her in," Mary replied.
Moments later, Catherine de Medici, Queen Grandmother of France strode in, looking as regal as ever in purple and red.
"Mary," she said, lowering her eyes a little. "how are you feeling, my dear?" she asked. Mary sighed.
Ever since the physicians told them that James was coming into the world, Catherine had been so much kinder to her, and it had only increased when he was born two winters ago. She had shown her how to parent her child even when both had been deep in grief over Francis' alleged death, assisted her in ruling after being declared the Regent. But, would she still be the same now? Her golden child was alive and well now, the lawful King ready to rule, would she transform into the Catherine that made Mary's life difficult?
"I don't know." Mary sighed after a few moments. "I don't know how to feel." she finished.
"Relived? Angry?" Catherine guessed, pulling the blanket back to smile at the little boy who had gotten them through so much over his lifetime.
"Both, I suppose." she sighed. "I'm furious at him, for having a child with the woman who was once my friend. I hate him for leaving me, us," she glanced at her son. Catherine nodded. "I'm furious that he let us grieve for him whilst he played families with her and their bastard, I'm angry that he even slept with her in the first place. Foolish boy." Mary couldn't help but let out. "I hate him for causing so much controversy in politics, for letting us get ourselves in such a mess with Darnley being dragged into it. Either one of us could be assassinated, Pope's support and protection or not. I hate that he comes back and get's everything back, whilst I have to suffer. I will spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder for a blade or a gun, I will live the rest of my life never trusting him fully. And, I don't want to live like that," she said, her voice softening towards the end. Then, she started to cry. Not the angry tears like before, but tears of sadness and pain, ones that hadn't made appearances in over a year.
"I know, dear child." Catherine wrapped her arms around her, kissing her head. "It's going to be hard, but I trust you both can get through it. The bond you two have is too strong to let anybody go through it." Catherine pulled back. "You must not let Lola between you, alright? Don't let their indiscretion and mistakes ruin you and your reign. You must be better than that." her voice was now serious. "You must not let this precious boy's life be tainted or altered by what they did. You cannot let that happen." she placed a hand on James' head.
"I know, I just don't know how," Mary shook her head. "I don't want to talk of Darnley or Francis or what life will be like after the fact. I just wish to be with him," she looked down at her son, covering herself up and rubbing his back once he stopped suckling. "No thrones, no empires, just him and I against the world." she tried to smile, sitting him straight on her lap. James' hands found her rings and played with them as his mother talked to his grandmother, relaxing into the warm lace and silk of the cream gown she wore.
"Every mother feels the same," Catherine couldn't help but smile at their interaction. "I spoke with Francis," she said.
"Oh?" Mary asked, drinking water from a nearby goblet. "What did he say?"
"He and Lola never slept together after the conception." Mary rolled her eyes. "I know, I don't believe it, either. She told him of your confrontation a few days ago, and neither can fault you. I'm told you didn't insult her, just told the truth?"
"What else could I do?" Mary asked. "She betrayed me. I couldn't act like an angry girl, but like an Empress." she replied.
Catherine nodded. "They want to know what you plan to do after the annulment. If you're going to punish them publicly for their act, you are still the regent. Francis' power isn't yet returned to him yet. Your son is still the King."
"Part of me lusts to drip Lola's blood, to take her head and hold it on a spike for all to see, but I cannot act like an immature, impulsive girl. I must act like an Empress. She'll most likely be sold off to the highest bidder, far away from court, to nobody of true power, if I get my way. But, it may not happen in time for Francis to be unable to intervene. I have a feeling he wishes to claim his son, something that I simply cannot let happen."
"Why not?"
"James." was the only word for a few moments. "You know how protective and perceptive he is, one day he'll be King, Emperor. The bastard son will be his subject, and if he grows up resenting him for hurting him, who knows what he'll do to him." Mary sighed. "He's already starting to understand, aren't you?" she couldn't help but smile down at him once he looked up at her, giving her a cheeky grin. "He refuses to settle in any room I'm told Francis' son has been in. I'm sure one of them placed him in a crib in one of the chambers in the east wing, James won't settle in it, even if we wash and change the sheets. He still knows. Only God knows what he'll do to him if he grows up with him." Mary sighed.
"You wish to protect their son?" Catherine asked, clearly surprised.
"I cannot blame him for his conception, I blame Francis and Lola for that. He cannot help being illegitimate born, it isn't his fault that he's the cause of so much controversy. The only way to protect him is if he's sent away, claimed by another, never to know who he actually is." Mary sighed. "Whether I like it or not, that child is still my subject and I have a duty to protect all of my subjects."
"You're a better woman than me, Mary." Catherine let slip. "I treated Bash with so much scorn and neglect as he grew up."
"I wouldn't say that," Mary tried to appease. "You cared for your children, disliking to see the result of Diane and Henry's affair running around, I can't blame you for that."
"I never tried to protect him like you're trying to protect Francis' son." Catherine shook her head. "Now, there is no more time for a trip to memory lane. We both know my son, what will you do if he claims the child?"
"I will leave him." Mary replied without blinking. "It will be the last straw between him and I. No matter how much I loved him in the past, if he claims the child, gives France an ulterior claim to that of my sons, he will ruin our marriage. I will leave and I have every right to take James with me. He will never meet him, if he claims that child." a few moments passed. "He will ruin every bodies lives if that child is claimed, Catherine. Lola will be trapped here, thought of as the King's mistress. He will be trapped here. I will be hurt by it, James will quickly figure it out, and he will punish him for hurting me. Who knows that he'll do to him when he's King." Mary sighed. "It may please Francis to claim the child, but it will ruin everybody else." she finished.
"I will be honest with you, now. Alright?" Mary nodded once. "If I was still the woman I was, wishing to hurt you at every given moment, wishing to please my son at every possible chance, I would have told him to claim that child as his own. It would make him happy, if you didn't have James, it may have been his only chance to be a father." Mary looked down. "I say this not to hurt you, Mary." she looked back up. "Everything has changed now."
"Do you think he should claim him?" she asked, suddenly feeling like a five year old child again.
"I can see why he should and why he shouldn't." was the only thing that Catherine said. "But, I do think you should talk to him, civically. You both had your chance to scream and yell the night he returned, but that time has passed now. You owe it to him," Catherine nodded to the child. "to be civil to each other, at least. You don't have to be the couple you once were, but you have to be civil for him."
"I know," Mary sighed. "I know I should. I just don't know if i'm ready."
"You have to be, Mary. I will send for him. It is better for everybody if you get this meeting over with, sooner, rather than later. It gives us time to see where we can go from here before you're expected to be seen with him."
"Very well. Send for my husband."
"Kiss me," Francis grinned, twirling his bride around once more, bringing her close. She beamed back at him, her smile brighter than the sun that shone through the stained glass windows. Giggling, her hands threaded through his hair, bringing their lips together in an unbreakable lock, listening to all the laughter and music, feeling the feathers and petals fall down from the ceiling, but focusing on the feel of her husbands' lips against her.
Together, they would be unstoppable.
"Mary?" a voice asked.
Mary looked up from her perch on an overstuffed chair in the royal chambers, watching as the door opened and closed. The familiar voice stoked contrasting feelings of love and hatred in through her body, and she did nothing but close her book and place her goblet of wine on a nearby table. Footsteps could be heard on the hard, stone floor as the familiar loose gait came into view.
"Francis." she acknowledged.
"You asked so speak with me?" he asked, voice guarded, not letting the hope he felt seep through the half dozen words.
"I did." she nodded once. "Sit," she nodded to a close by green and gold armchair. He did so, almost obediently.
"Lola told me of your conversation some days ago." Francis remarked.
"Yes, your mother told me." she nodded once, again. Suddenly acknowledging how awkward and hard this conversation would be, she filled the goblet with dark wine and looked over at her still very alive husband. "Drink?" she asked.
He nodded quickly. "That would be lovely." he replied, reaching for the goblet she reached over to him. He gulped hard, trying his best to to physically shudder as their fingertips brushed as he took the cold glass.
Her skin was like the softest silk as it glided over his own. His hands were hardened from the two years of physical work, a contrast from the soft skin of her own. He glanced at her hands as the left retreated from him. They were as small as ever, skin a paler porcelain than before, fingers long and bare, the only jewellery she wore was her signet ring on the pointer finger. Due to the lateness of the hour, she wasn't dressed up like an Empress, looking more like the Mary he loved and left rather than the powerful Empress who took her place.
She still looked so, so beautiful.
"What did the two of you speak of?" Mary asked.
"Lola and myself?" she nodded. "She was awfully upset about the way your confrontation ended, told me a few things you had said to her."
"I cannot say my words were not justified, nor will I apologise for them." she said. "However, you and I must speak of where we are, now."
"Of course," he nodded quickly, taking a few gulps of wine in quick succession.
"We had our opportunity to yell and scream a few days ago, but now I wish to talk as civilised adults."
"Yes, as would I." Mary could clearly hear the relief in his words, observed the way his body relaxed a little as he looked towards her again.
"So, where are we?" Mary asked. "From your perspective."
"I know that I have done you wrong, but if you gave me a chance to fix it, I would like to try and get to a place where we were years ago. I know it's going to take a while, and a lot, but I don't want this to break us."
"Alright,"
"Also, I know that you are far from trusting me, and I know you must resent me for my actions, and would like you to know that I don't expect to be immediately forgiven."
"Alright," Mary paused. "That day, why did you leave?"
"I left because I suddenly had it sprung on me that a woman was locked out in plague stricken lands, carrying my unborn child. I couldn't let them die if given the opportunity to save them."
"So, you left me. James and I." Mary took a sip of wine.
"I did." Francis swallowed. "But I had no idea that you were with child at that time. I left you when you needed me the most, not just as your King helping to deal with a plague stricken country, but the father of your unborn child." he sighed. "I am sorry."
"I hope you are." Mary sighed. "I needed you, I needed you so badly. Even I didn't know I was pregnant at that time, Catherine and I found out a month later. I was terrified. Not only for you, but for everybody else. You knew better than anybody how impulsive I could be at that time, I was so scared of making the wrong decision. I feared that and having the country burn more than I did loosing my own life to the sickness." she finished. "When I needed you the most, you left me."
"Yes, I did. I left you to nurse a plague stricken country alone, pregnant with my child." he said, voice quiet yet clear.
"Yes," Mary sighed, hating how they had strayed so far from where they began all those years ago. "I want to ask you something," she said, taking another sip of wine.
"Of course,"
"If you knew then what you do now, would you have done the same thing?" Mary asked. He looked straighter at her, not answering, not understanding. "If you knew I was pregnant with James, knew that you and Lola and your son would end up trapped in Italy for over two years, knew that you would be declared dead, James borne and crowned King and I would be forced to marry another, would you have left?" Mary asked.
Francis was silent for many moments and Mary didn't push him, simply silently stared at him as she filled up their goblets once more.
"I don't think so," he finally decided. "I simply had an instinctual need to protect my son, who was in danger. I know ours was as well, but I didn't know about James at that point. I couldn't let him or Lola die. I know I did you wrong and so many cracks have appeared in our marriage because of it, I know I betrayed you. But, trust me, finding all this out has never made me feel lesser of a man than I do now. I wish I hadn't hurt you and made our son suffer because of my impulsiveness and sentimentality, but I couldn't let my son die when I had the chance to save him."
"Even at the expense of your country? Queen, heir and country?" Mary asked.
"At the time, yes." he sighed. Mary silently nodded. "I won't try to justify it, but you know my reasons. I wasn't thinking like a King, simply a shocked man."
"I do."
"We speak of James," Francis suddenly said, his tone changed. Mary looked at him. "I have been back a fortnight, when can I meet my son and heir?" he asked, knowing full well that Mary still held the complete power between the two.
"I don't know," she sighed. Francis frowned deeply. "I want us to be completely civil before you meet our son. He is perceptive and protective of me, even at this age. That is why we're talking. But, we are only talking to make sure James will not be afraid of confused when you meet him. I don't say this to give you false hope. I will not open my heart to you until my son does. Outside of my empire and France, he is my priority."
Francis nodded slowly. Although those words hurt, they were completely understandable.
"You wish to reconcile with me for our son?"
"For the time being, yes. It will take me a lot of time to even conceive of forgiving you for your betrayal and abandonment. If anything, it will take years. If we can be civil around James, and he grows used to being around you and won't remember a time where he didn't know you, then things will change. He doesn't deserve to grow up with parents who cannot stand each other, I won't put him through that. He doesn't deserve to grow up," she trailed off.
"Like I did." Francis finished. Mary nodded.
"Yes."
"What of us? Do we deserve to live like this?" Francis asked, leaning a little closer.
"You cannot ask such things," Mary looked away.
"It's your decision where we go with this." Francis acknowledged.
"I know," she sighed. "But, we must talk of our situation before we talk of the future."
"What would you like to know?"
"I want to know what deemed it okay for you to sleep with Lola." Mary straightened her back. "I know we weren't together, I won't try to justify my own actions at that time, but of all the woman you had to get pregnant. Must it have been her?" she asked, her tone now sad.
Francis sighed. "No, it did not. But, I didn't do it to hurt you or get some sort of immature revenge. We had been drinking the night before, talking of all we had lost. My life, Collen and Aylee. She started saying things and we woke up together-"
"Yes, yes, I know all of that." Mary rushed, rolling her eyes. "Get to your mentality."
"How do you know?" Francis asked, frowning. "Did Lola tell you?"
"No. I knew my plans would fall through when they were being made, and I couldn't bare to let you go completely. I sent spies to give me updates on you." Francis choked on his wine. Mary gave him a look, continuing on her tale. "You were in a whore house, friends of mine, those loyal to the De Guise Dynasty, were there. They told me everything you said to each other, transcripts were even written, in case I didn't believe them. 'Your heart will mend'" Mary recited, rolling her eyes again. "'We can't, Mary.", 'Mary is no longer a part of my life', 'Lola, I can't as you to', 'give up my virtue, I have known a man already, just one. Francis I want to'" Mary rolled her eyes. "Pitiful, really. Repulsive, even. But, I know everything that happened between you two, what's done is done." she said. Francis suddenly looked pale. "And the others, what was it, seven, eight, nine whores? You simply didn't know one of them was working for me." she finished.
"When did you-"
"You were not the only one pretending on our wedding tour, Francis." she said. "Take that for what you will." she paused. "Anyway," she moved swiftly on. "you have yet to answer my question. Why Lola?"
"I don't know. She was there and willing, I suppose. I was angry and betrayed because of what you and Bash had done, hurt that my father was trying to kill my mother. It was wrong and I know that now, but I just needed something, someone." Francis tried to explain. "I shouldn't have done it, don't misunderstand me, but I didn't think I'd ever see you again, that there would be no repercussions for you and I, definitely not a baby. But, I know I shouldn't have done it. Maybe not infidelity, but definitely betrayal towards you." Francis sighed. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sure," Mary rolled her eyes, gaining composure again. "Afterwards? Did any feelings for Lola come up?"
"We share a bond and a son, nothing more. In fact, it was really rather awkward being so physically close to her after what happened between us." Francis almost blushed. Mary frowned.
"Why are you blushing? Do you have feelings for her?"
"Absolutely not. I am embarrassed to be talking of this. Lola's a friend and a confidant, nothing more. Trust me."
"I wish I could." she sighed. "And, if you knew then what you do now? That we would wed and reign, would you have slept with my friend?"
"No. I wouldn't have." he sighed.
"You hurt me, regardless if you meant to or not. You hurt and betrayed me. You lied to me for months. You didn't even have to."
"I know, I just didn't want to ruin the perfect happiness we shared on our wedding tour. I didn't know how you'd react."
"But you should have." Mary sighed. "I would have been hurt and angry, but at that point, I knew. Regardless if that honesty would have hurt me, deception and omission hurt worse. If you had been honest with me, we could have figured something out. Marry Lola off to some noble far away from court, nobody none the wiser." she said. "Maybe that wouldn't have happened, these last two years. Maybe they would be different." she sighed. "We may not have even known about the baby, could live happily in ignorance." Mary finished.
"I know." Francis sighed.
"I suppose you are not all to blame. I did set those motions off."
"You did, but what we did is our own doing, not yours. You started it, but we finished it." Francis acknowledged.
They were silent for a few minutes.
"All that time, did you want to come back?" she asked.
"Of course I did! I thought of you constantly, I would have given almost anything to get back to your side! I never played family with Lola and our son. Every spare penny I earned from blacksmithry went to our fare back to court, but I had to feed and house us, clothe the baby and ourselves. I wanted to come back to you more than anything, I stopped at nothing to try and get back, but I had responsibilities that I couldn't abandon." Francis finished, his voice a little louder than usual.
"And now, we're here."
"Yes, we are."
"The child, does he call you father?"
"Yes, he does." Francis replied quietly.
"And you love him?"
"Of course," Francis looked away, knowing those words hurt her.
"Now that you're back, and are in the process of getting your power back, what are you going to do with him?"
"What to you mean?"
"As soon as you are King, are you going to claim it? Give it lands and titles?"
"I-I don't know. I wish to, but-"
"What?"
"I know you don't want me to."
"Of course I don't!" Mary almost cried. "Don't acknowledge him, publicly, please. It will ruin everybody."
"Why? It won't fall back on you, you have a son, our heir. There will be no repercussions for you by the world." Francis said, quicker than usual. "It would be different if we didn't have a son, but we do."
"You don't know our son! You don't know how perceptive he is! You don't know how protective he is over me! The moment he sees that the child hurts me, it will hurt him! He will grow to resent him, and he will ruin him the moment you're actually dead!"
"You don't know that!"
"Yes, I do! Not only will it diminish you on the worlds' stage, make you be thought of as weak and sentimental so soon after returning to the throne, but it will ruin his mother! It gives everybody evidence of her treason! If my nobles call for her head, I must deliver it! Marry her off, visit your child if you must, but don't destroy them!"
"This is a conversation for after I am legitimised again." Francis huffed. "Why do you care of my sons' happiness so much? He personifies pain and betrayal."
"Because he is innocent in all this, it isn't his fault that he was born to you and Lola, it isn't his fault he represents betrayal and treason! Francis, I don't want to live like your mother," she cried. "I don't want to live with a husband who sires bastard children will their mistresses. I don't want to see literal personifications of betrayal every time I walk through my court." she sniffled.
"Then don't!" he begged. "I will never hurt you like that again!"
"How can I believe you? When you have so much to loose?"
"Trust me! Trust the love that you now question, trust that I won't hurt you! What do I have to gain from hurting you again? Nothing! Why would I ruin the marriage you and I worked so hard for?"
"Because of your foolishness! Your weakness, sentimentality and impulsiveness! I cannot trust you! Not again!"
"Mary, please!" he got up from his chair and went over to hers, kneeling in front of her, grabbing her pale hands and kissing them briefly. "I love you, I still love you and I will forever love you. I will spend forever trying to regain your forgiveness and love, just give me one chance. Please."