"Your highness," Steven said. "The Emperor is here, should he be let in, aunt?"
The Empress of the United Kingdom of Great Britain sat propped up against a mountain of silk and fine pillows. She wore nothing but an ivory nightgown with lace outline and a satin robe. Long hair had been brushed out, falling in slightly greasy waves down to her hips. There were dark circles around her eyes and her face was thinner than usual, a thinner body to match. A thin sheen of sweat across her warm body. She looked exhausted -despite having slept for days- and her lips were chapped, but she was alive.
James sat curled on Mary's lap, a thumb in her mouth, one hand of his mother in his own dark curls. He was asleep, one hand tightly woven into the fibres of her shift, small mews falling from his sleeping lips. Beside them was a table with a pitcher of water and a half empty goblet resting along side, as well as a few slices of bread, fruit, meat and cheese. Being late at night, the fire roared and the candles burned, but all the doors to the balcony were open, refreshing cool air flooding the room despite the fires burning. Long curtains of chiffon danced in the soft wind that was colder than usual, seeing as a storm was approaching.
Near them, Kenna and Greer stood smiling gently. Kenna was donned in dark blue chiffon, Greer in golden coloured cotton, both looking equally exhausted as their ruling counterpart, but both equally as relieved as each other to see said counterpart alive and talking. Mary had woken up mere minutes before, neither being able to deny the relief and exuberance to see those golden eyes flicker open to match their little doppelganger.
Near, James Stewart sat in an overstuffed arm chair. The young Scot couldn't deny his own relief at seeing his Empress and sister awake and talking, even if she was sickened by means they were well on their way to figuring out. Upon said sisters insistence, he was told to rest and not concern himself with any unnecessary means.
"Yes, I suppose so." Mary said, her voice quieter than usual, a little more horse than what was expected, but a voice none the less.
The door opened. There Francis stood.
Neither of them said anything for a few seconds.
"Mary," Greer said. The Empress turned to her. "Would you like us to stay?"
"No, thank you. Go to your chambers and rest, I'm sure I've caused lack of rest. Take him to his bed." she replied, gesturing to her slumbering son. Said son's namesake stood from his chair and took his nephew from his sisters' lap, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he rose, twisting the slumbering, limp toddler into his arms. He lay limply in his uncle's arms, large eyes closed, his cheeks looking irregularly chubby in the dim light, his lips plumping more than usual. Mary smiled at him softly as he was taken away from her.
She bid her ladies goodnight. The door closed.
"Mary, I-" Francis stopped talking, his legs moving upon their own accord. He ended up by her bed. "I was so worried." he breathed. "I thought you left me, I couldn't handle it." he added. "I'm so glad you're okay." he leaned in, as if attempting to press his lips to her cheek in a kiss. But, she turned away, her eyes closing. "What's wrong?"
"Lydia spoke to me." she said slowly. "She told me things."
"What things?" Francis frowned. Why was she speaking so stoically?
"Not even an hour after I collapsed, you were seen taking Lola into your chambers." she said, slowly turning to him. "Over and over and over, you've been seen talking to her. Allowing her an extended stay in my court." she said. Now, her voice sounded repulsed, even. "As I lay nearly dying, you were seen going into Lola's chambers, not coming out for hours. And just a few minutes ago, she sent word to Steven. You were seen holding your son in a suspiciously close embrace." she added. "What possible excuse could you have?"
"I was actually starting to want to mend things between us!" she said. Francis recoils, a frown forming. "Not just for James, but for us!"
"Mary, I-"
"Imagine, I actually thought we had a chance, that both you and I were ready, willing and prepared to do whatever it took to fix it! But, I was wrong. Do you know how it feels to constantly be betrayed and let down because of your actions?"
"Mary, please, listen." he tried, but Mary talked over him once more.
"I lay dying, and you were with her! You were with the woman you swore meant nothing to you! Imagine that, just when I thought you meant what you said to me, you waited no time to go back to her! I actually thought we had a chance, that you were actually going to give me more than pretty words and empty promises!"
"Mary, please, let me explain!"
"Do not! Do not pretend that I'm wrong! I know about you two! I know everything! Constantly, you were seen together in private chambers! I assumed that since I collapsed, you would want to stay with me! Stay with your wife that you swore never to abandon again, but no. You ran straight back to Lola's arms and took her to your chambers! You were with her when I woke up! Really, Francis? You couldn't just-" Mary's voice began to falter. "You couldn't stay with me, just this once? When I lay dying, you couldn't stay with me? Yours couldn't be the first face I saw when I woke up? I asked for you immediately after I came too, but James couldn't lie to me. He told me that you were seen close with your rumoured mistress." she took a breath. He opened his mouth to talk, but she offered him no such luxury. "You keep saying that you want me back, that you want us to be a family with James, but you keep leaving us for her. For them!" she cried. "I can't handle it any more, okay? I needed you, and you weren't there! You're always too late! Too late in the plague, too late in France, too late right now. I needed you and you were with her!" she cried.
"Mary, no. It wasn't like that." Francis begged. "I just talked to her, demanded she leave this castle, go back to France. But she wouldn't, she refused to leave, to pack her things and go wherever the hell she wanted to. That's the only reason I talked to her. But then she did something that-"
"what?" Mary snapped. "What could she possibly have done that would necessitate you leaving me to run to her side? Doesn't that sound familiar?"
He ignored the comment. "She forced my sons to meet."
Mary said nothing.
"I didn't know she did it until James told all of us, I swear, Mary."
"Why would she do that? This could ruin everything!"
"She says she wanted to establish a bond between them, but-"
"It didn't go well?" Mary asked. Francis shook up, before lurching forwards as his wife appeared to be trying to manage herself out of bed. "What are you doing?" he demanded.
"I have to end this, once and for all. I'm sick of the drama and the fighting. I have to end it." she demanded.
"Whilst I cannot disagree, I cannot let you in this state. You're weak and sickened, you're not moving until your fever breaks and your recover. We still don't know what's wrong with you, love." he nuzzled a kiss to her hair as he settled her back onto the pillows. Surprisingly, she didn't deny him.
"What else did Lola say?" Mary asked. "Everything."
"She yelled at me for claiming John, saying I should have let him go to the Netherlands and forgotten about him."
"But?"
"She wants me to parent him. I am sure she envies you in a way," Mary furrowed her eyebrows. "not because of the physical factors, nor the power, although I am sure that these have a factor in it. But because I spend so much time with James, being a father to him. She's noticed John fussing more, because I'm not there."
As much as hearing him talk about his other son he had with the woman who was mean to be her best friend, it didn't resolve the amount of jealousy or mistrust that Mary thought it would. She supposed is she didn't have James, it would have, but she did. And the aforementioned child was innocent in all of this. He was more than likely confused to why his father suddenly wasn't around, much like James was when he saw Aloysius with Greer and Rose and George and Bash with Kenna and Meredith. However, that didn't mean that she was suddenly okay with the fact that he had a bastard child with another woman, one who had betrayed her and was once her friend.
"What are you going to do?" Mary asked, her voice quieter. Absentmindedly, her hand found his. Francis smiled a little, but couldn't force down the worry about the fact that her palm burned in his.
"I don't know. I do want to parent him, like a father should. But I am no ordinary father, I am a King, an Emperor. I must do what is right, not what is easy or what I want." he sighed. "Perhaps Lola could be married off to somebody, someone we know and trust. Somebody that can take care of her and John. And I could visit when I am able."
"Like who? Who do we know that is an eligible bachelor?" Mary asked.
"Leith?"
"Enthralled with your sister, Claude." Mary shook her head.
"James?"
"Hates her." she blurted. "Also talking of marrying a Hapsburg daughter." Mary shot down.
"Louis? My cousin?"
"You know him better than I, but I wouldn't bank on it. The man is a Prince, an important man. I doubt he'd be willing to lower himself to marry her when he could marry a Princess or a Queen."
"Darnley?" he asked, although the word came out as a sort of sneer.
"Married with a daughter." she shook her head.
"Well then, we must think of something."
"Must all of our conversations be of her?" Mary asked. He looked sharply down at her.
"What do you mean?"
"Everything we talk of is her. Before I collapsed, arguing after you got back to France. It's always her."
"We must help her."
"You must help her. You got her into this situation, you get her out." Mary decided, sitting up and gaining some suddenly much needed distance.
"I know, I know." he tried to soothe. "But, she is not my mistress. She is not French. She is your subject, you have the final say in who your nobility marries."
"Again, I don't want to speak of her." Mary shook her head. "But, I suppose we must." she sighed. "All those years ago, why her? Of all the people you slept with, did it have to be her? Of all the available whores and harlots, why her?"
"I don't know! She was there and willing, didn't mock me for my pain, just listened."
"And then lied to you of your mothers' execution. Henry was satisfied with annulment. She took it one step further because of what happened to Collen!" she snapped. "And has admitted lying to you because she wanted to be seen as an non judgemental ear to talk to! That girl said whatever you wanted to hear, and you may not want to admit it, but you know that!" Mary added. "She may not be a manipulative seductress but she is damn sure not the innocent little angel you suddenly want to make her out to be!" Mary snapped, tears suddenly burning her eyes.
"I don't think of her like that! I know she's done awful things, but those are my reasons." he huffed.
"She may not have even wanted to be seen as just an ear to talk to, a shoulder to cry to. She might have wanted more than that! Manipulated you into marrying her or taking her as a mistress!"
"But she does not! She did not!"
"How do you know? She played you like a fiddle, just like Olivia!" Mary snapped. That last blow stunned her. She hadn't brought up Olivia since the little incident with the infamous 'darkness' in France just after their marriage.
"What could you possibly mean by that?" Francis asked, after a lengthy pause.
"Don't be a fool! You think she came there out of her own will? Her carriage was attacked by pagans, yes. But your mother blackmailed her into trying to ruin our engagement so the stupid prophecy wouldn't come true! She never wanted to get into your bed, she did it out of fear of Catherine de Medici! The foolish girl learned, but Catherine brought her right back to being the foolish little puppet she always was!"
"How do you know this?"
"Catherine told me." Mary said, her voice calm.
"You cannot blame all of that on me! You ended our engagement when it wasn't convenient for you to have me!"
"I did it to save my country! Your father wasn't prepared to give troops, Tomas' was! And you told me to marry him, that day in the courtyard! I was acting like a Queen, you were acting like a little boy who didn't want to share his toy with anybody else!"
"You almost took everything from me!"
"Yes, I acted out of blind love and fear! And there were many times over my pregnancy and early maternity that I questioned myself if I made the wrong choice!"
He paused.
"Thinking out of hatred and jealousy that you put me and France under Lola and John. You were supposed to be a better King than Bash, but you've turned out to be worse!"
"How could you say that to me?!"
"Because it's true!" she attempted to get out of bed, before the room suddenly spun. Francis lunged to catch her, placing her safely on the blankets. Their argument didn't continue. It was ironic, really. Such gentle touches, but such harsh words that so needed to be said. They could love each other but still be angry with each other, both realised. "You ran away the moment you became King, you ran for two years and three months! You left me, pregnant, to rule your dying country! You abandoned your unborn son and I to a nightmare! Whilst you ran like a knight in shining armour to save that foolish girl and that innocent child who will know such pain because of your sentimentality!" Mary cried. "I nearly lost him because of you!" she sobbed, before freezing.
Francis, who had had his back turned to her after helping her onto the bed, stilled as well. He turned, slowly.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
Mary sighed. She'd always known she'd have to tell him. But never imagined it to be like this.
"Before I started showing, at around eight or nine weeks along, I started to bleed. It turns out an expectant mother cannot rule a plague stricken land and carry an unborn child. I thought I did loose him, we all did! Until I started to show and continued to show symptoms of pregnancy. Those two weeks were hell! Francis, they were pure hell! Plague, famine, a cowardice husband and a treasonous Lady, an unfortunate bastard, Catherine's scheming, Bash's blind devotion, Kenna's childish nature, Greer's troubles, two countries relying on me. England had it's sword at my neck, I couldn't handle it! And you weren't there!" Mary sobbed.
He took a step towards her involuntarily, as if trying to comfort, but she placed out a hand, stilling him, forcing him to stay where he stood.
"James was the only thing that got me through that time, I had damn near gone mad with grief and anger and anguish and pain that I nearly lost my mind. And when you were declared dead, Bash had taken it so hard! Harder than Catherine, or I, I have no idea why he serves you so valiantly as he does when you've caused him, if possible, more pain than I! You took his family from him for over half a year!"
"And you nearly took everything from me!"
"I did not! Our engagement was never truly over, you were never tripped of the title of Dauphin, your mother and fathers' marriage was never annulled. We may not have been physically together at the time, but we damn sure were still going to get married. We still loved each other, or I still loved you, you were still Dauphin, no matter what you thought at the time! When you and Lola slept together, we were still engaged, going to be married the next day and you were still going to be King! Dress it up however you want, but that is the truth!" Mary cried. "Which is what hurt worse! We were still getting married and you slept with Lola, got her pregnant and then tried to lie to my face about it! You did lie to me for all those months, until you finally came clean about four months after the fact!"
"You lied to me for Lola's entire pregnancy!"
"She made me! And you not knowing protected you from Court and the world seeing you as weak and sentimental for doting over a bastard!"
"I would have helped you find her a husband! Secretly saw him every little while!"
"You think that now, but would you have?" Mary asked, wiping her tears. "I don't think you would have. You would have claimed it the moment you knew about it and we both know it. Lola would have became yours, and because you claimed him, she is! And no marriage can undo that! That child calls you father, that girl relies on you for everything! Because you got bored and were sad that our married was postponed because I loved you so much that I was ready to sacrifice everything for you! I did what I did because I was scared, because I love you so much that I was willing to sacrifice everything to keep you safe! And what did you do? Nearly cost me my head and crown, abandoned me and your unborn child! How could you?!"
"It was not like that! I didn't do it to hurt you, it just happened!"
"Things like that don't just happen! Although she may not admit it, that girl knew exactly what she was doing! Laying with a man whilst ovulating, she didn't think would cause a pregnancy? A royal illegitimate one at that? And if she did not, she was too damned foolish, naive and childlike to lay with you anyway! But you pushed for it, she played hard to get under the delusions of loyalty, but her true feelings and actions came out when you slept together!" Mary almost screamed. "And that is treason! I could justifiably take her head for that, and trust me, it is tempting. The more and more people who know about it will no doubt reach my privy council and if they demand her head, I am without choice but to give it!"
"You wouldn't do that!"
"Wouldn't I? What would you know about that? You've never seen me rule, you don't know about the horrible things I've had to do as a ruler, for both my countries and yours!"
"What have you done?"
"Killed innocents, killed those who's only crime was to be loyal to my cousin before taking the English throne, killed those unfortunate enough to know the true nature of your succession!" Mary listed off.
"And I-no. Wait. What did you say?" Francis asked.
"Did you think nobody knew, Francis? That you killed Henry?"
Francis' face was priceless, and she would have laughed at it should she not have been so angry at him.
"Of course I knew! I knew immediately after the infamous Stéphane Narcisse started attempting to blackmail the Crown! I had to kill everybody who knew, trust me, it was not easy! In fact or on my conscience! I stripped him of everything before making him my puppet!"
"And you never told me?"
"How could it come up? Oh Francis, by the way, before we go to the gardens with James, I'd like you to know I know you committed regicide and killed your father, let's go." Mary mocked. "I don't think so!"
"You almost brought France to it's knees!"
"When your mother and father had grounds to execute me and take my country! I had to save it! And, by the way, it didn't happen! Would you not have done the same to protect France should Marie de Guise have grounds to execute you because of a contract she tricked you into signing?" Mary asked.
"Where is she?"
"My mother? Long dead." Mary waved a hand, moving on. "We're getting off topic."
"What is the topic?" Francis asked, his voice miserable. Mary silently shook her head. He came closer, sitting at the edge of her bed, taking her hands. "I know we have done terrible things to each other, horrid things. But, what's the use of bringing them up now? Apart from making each other angry to find common ground. Have you any anger left for me? I know your opinion on John and me claiming and wishing to raise him, and you know my opinion on you doing what you did with the prophecy. I've no anger left for you." he added.
"No." her voice was quiet.
"Can we start again? Put the past to rest, leave it where it should be, in the past. Forgive each other for the horrid things that we've done and move forward. We do greater things when we act as one, when we trust each other, as equals. Can you do that? Can you forgive me as I can forgive you?" he asked.
"I don't know. I can try, at the very least."
"As can I." he half smiled.
Before they knew it, a triplet of weeks had passed. Whilst the Empress was still unwell, she was attended to hand, foot and finger by servants, physicians and her relentless ladies who clucked over her like mother hens. James had barely left his mothers side, but the mother-son duo had compromised with him spending most of the time he wasn't spending outside -mother and child mutually loved the outdoors- in her chambers with her. He was kept company with his cousin and the two who he considered his cousins whenever he and his mother weren't cuddling up, or when he was doing his little lessons with his governess.
Having been granted more authority by Mary -thanks to a stern talking to from her to her half brothers- Francis strode back to her chambers with an aura of confidence about him, even though the dull privy council meeting about an issue with getting fresh grain to the highlands had dulled his excitement about combined ruling with his beautiful bride.
He walked the now firmilar halls of Edinburgh Castle with his happy aura of confidence about him, before finding the doors to Mary's chambers. Steven -who had taken to him in the last few days- smiled at him, before opening the door.
"Presenting the Emperor." he announced.
Francis nodded at his bastard nephew in law gratefully and walked into the chambers. He saw his wife being tended to by Greer, who upon seeing him, nodded low. He gave her a look. He disliked his friends treating him like a King, sometimes he just wanted to be Francis, not the King or Emperor of anything.
Greer seemed to read his mind, coming up from her slight bow and smiling at him, before going back to work. She pressed a damp cloth against Mary's forehead and Francis frowned, seeing the slight paleness of her skin, the slight dampness on the chalky white complexion.
"What happened?" he frowned. "She seemed okay last night."
"I am here." Mary complained, but her voice was nasally and somewhat congested.
"Did she drink the tea Nostradamus and Matthias made?" he asked. The seer and his mother had arrived two days prior and although he had yet to see the Medici blooded Queen Mother of France, the prophet had gotten straight to work on Mary's health.
"She did." the blonde Lady Castleroy said. "But," Greer nodded to the fire. "It wasn't burning when she fell asleep. The cold must have gotten in." she said. "It's only a cold, he assures me of that. It won't last long."
Francis nodded. "Good." he came closer and sat down at her side. Greer excused herself, saying that she was going to get more warm towels for Mary. But, as she opened the door, they came face to face with the French Physician himself.
"Nostradamus." Greer said, clearly surprised.
"I have the culprit of the Empress' illness." his voice was a gruff as ever, looking over at the married couple as their eyes flickered over to him immediately following his words.
"What is it? What's wrong with me?" Mary asked.
"My Queen, you are with child."