"I am what?" Mary said, her skin suddenly fading into an ashen pale, even more than before.
"You're with child, Imperial Majesty. The King says you spent the night together around thirteen weeks ago, and the end result is this. You're with child, Majesty." Nostradamus repeated, "It is undetectable whilst you were unconscious, but now that you are awake, it is almost obvious. You're pregnant, your Majesty." Nostradamus added.
Silently, Mary looked towards Francis. Neither said anything to each other, but their silent conversation between each other was so loud.
"Are you sure, Nostradamus?" Greer asked. "It is easy to misidentify pregnancy." the blonde finished.
"I am, m'lady." he said. "You have been tired more often, from my inspection the night the Queen Mother and I came to Scotland, I found viable veins in your skin, the dizziness and fatigue." Nostradamus listed. "Without question, there is a small swelling in your stomach, and I am sure that it will continue to grow within time. Judging from the time frame the King and your handmaidens have given me, I am sure that your child will arrive sometime in the middle of December."
Francis stared at Nostradamus throughout his little speech, before turning back to his wife, a small smile appearing on his face. He took a hold of her hand, gently running his thumb over the back of her palm and the line of her knuckles.
"Don't tell my mother," Francis instructed. "Although I'm sure that she'll find a way to get acknowledged. Before she does, she and I need to have a conversation." Francis ordered.
"Mother." Francis said. A copper haired Queen in red and gold spun around, instantly beaming at the sight of her golden child.
"Francis!" she smiled widely. Donned in regal gold and red, her thick skirted gown with a long sleeved vest bloomed as she moved around fast. Heels clicked against the stone flooring as she proceeded to rush over and maul him, taking his head in her hands and pressing kisses over his cheeks and nose. She grabbed his hands and did the same. It was much like when he returned to Court after the liaison with Lola.
"Mother, stop, stop, stop." Francis repetitively said. He pushed her away, but she obliviously smiled at him.
"Francis." she beamed at her favourite child. He attempted to smile, but her scheming nature had dulled the part of him happy to see his mother once again.
"Mother, we must talk." he said, taking her hands from his cheeks and bringing them from his face, bounding them at the wrists. Still, she beamed at him.
"About what, love? Can we not be happy that you have gotten what you so pined for back?" she asked.
"And what is that?" Francis frowned in genuine confusion.
"Your family, of course! They're finally returned to you!" Catherine beamed. Francis blinked.
"Which one? Mary and James, or Lola and John?" he asked. "You certainly think of one higher than the other."
"You know which one I mean, Francis." she huffed.
"No, I really don't. I had a family, mother. A genuine, true family that was willing to accept and move past my mistakes, but you threw a cink in the works by sending Lola from France to Scotland!"
"I did it to make you happy, to make you a better ruler! Your father and I taught you that you cannot rule with your heart, that you cannot wed the woman you love. It clouds judgement, you must put France first, before everything else!"
"I do think of France, but I also think of what makes me happy! And, I know what that is! It's my wife and my son, my heir! I will not abandon them, again, because you think you know what is best for me!"
"I do know what is best, Francis." Catherine spoke as if she was speaking to the five year old boy who had nervously awaited a dark haired siren on the grounds of the royal court, not as if she was speaking to a fully grown, fully competent ruling King. "You know I do." she spoke in the same tone.
"You do not!" he snapped. He shoved her hands away and paced a few times. "Mary and James make me happy, why do you think I've spent thirteen weeks trying to win back their love and trust? Why do you think I returned to France in the first place? For them. For my people and for them!"
"You cannot think with your heart, it's time to grow up! It's time to think like a King! You've had enough years thinking with your heart and not your head, but now is the time to change! Yes, Mary and James will suffer, as will any other son she bares, but that is what has to happen! If you need solace, find it elsewhere! Let your marriage become normal!"
"Elsewhere? You mean with Lola and John?" Francis angrily chuckled. "They are not my family! It may sound harsh, but it is true, all they are is a foolish girl who made wrong choices and the result of a rendezvous gone wrong! That's all they will ever be! I love my son, but I cannot let his happiness effect the course of nations! An empire! You want me to think like a King, here you are!"
"You cannot speak to me like that! I am your mother!"
"And I am your King!" Francis snapped. "I was so, so close to getting what I wanted with Mary and James. Although she was still angry, Mary started to forgive me, mother! James accepted me into his life and his heart as his father, but you sent Lola and John from Court -against my direct orders- to try and stop the proceedings!" Francis yelled.
"I did it for you! To show you what family a King actually can have! You cannot be happy with Mary!"
"Why not? I love her, she and James are the light of my life!"
"Because you are a King, you do not have the luxury of obeying your heart!"
"Is that what you think? You think because you saw grand-père with one arm for his wife and another for his mistress, you think because you hung on one of fathers' arms whilst Diane or whoever kept his interest for more than a night clung to the other, that is how a King is supposed to act?"
"It is! I know it!"
"You are wrong! Has it ever occurred to you that it's time we changed things? So I can be a true husband and a true father? Be loyal and faithful to the woman I love?"
"True?" Catherine mocked. "You have a bastard child, with Mary's best friend!"
"One you manipulated me into claiming -against my better judgement and Mary's superior judgement- to hurt her! To hurt and drive them both away so far to Scotland! Has it ever occurred to you that they are what I want, not the repercussions of a rendezvous gone wrong?" he asked, his voice loud. "Do you still hate Mary that much? Because she is younger, more powerful, beautiful and richer than you? Do you still hate her for replacing you as the most important woman in my life? Can you not stand her because she took your crown and ruled over you in my absence? Because she took a tenth as long of a time to birth a son? Because she is more politically important? Because she has something you will never have, a blood written crown? Royal blood?" he snapped. "Do you still hate her after acting as a mother to her for so long? Why do you wish for her to suffer when there is no necessity to?"
"Of course not, Francis! You must understand that you cannot have what you want?"
"Can't I? Then why did Mary tell me after so long that she loved me last night? Why did James say that he loves me just twenty minutes ago? Is it so wrong to be true to them, breaking the mould that has been solidified since you were sold to the Valois-Angoulême? Being different does not mean being wrong, mother!"
"Why couldn't you have ruled your country like your father ruled his? Why couldn't you have stayed in France, instead of running away -yet again- to Scotland? Why couldn't you have let Mary and James be content in their empire, whilst you rule your Kingdom?"
"Because I want them! I don't want Lola, nor John! It may sound harsh as I love my son, but I will not let a Dynasty crumble because of his existence. You wish me to think like a king only when it suits you! When it benefits you!"
"Because I am a Queen! I do what is best for my country!"
"My country." Francis reminded. "You are neither Queen of France, nor Regent of France. And you will not manipulate me into doing what you say any longer!"
"Francis, no-"
"I was so wrong to consult you in claiming John and not my own wife, my Queen, my Empress. But, I stop those mistakes right now."
"Francis, you can't do this to me-"
"I strip you of the Regency, permanently, for your actions against Mary and James. Should I die before James is of age, Mary and my faithful Lord will rule France in his stead." You may go back to France, with no authority than your blood connection to myself and my heir. My true son." he finished. "After so many years, I can finally see so clearly." he chuckled, without humour.
"No, Francis, please stop-"
"I will not. You may stay at Court and in time, possibly regain my loyalty and trust. But, until then, I wish not to see you."
"Kenna, may we speak?" Lola asked, coming into Kenna's chambers that night. The Lady in question looked better than before. A black gown with long sleeves and a high neck, blue flowers embroidered onto the imitation satin. Her hair was brushed out, makeup less smeared than usual, but she still looked horridly rough, all things considered. And, in comparison to the predestine, sometimes vain Baroness de Portiers, the Lady looked downright awful.
"What is it?" the beautiful Baroness asked.
"I've seen you come from Mary's room. Is she alright?" Lola asked. Kenna gave her a look, straightening her polka dot embroidered white trained gown, the struggles of vanity poking through her.
"She's-" Kenna stopped. After the astounding announcement to Mary's half brothers and half sister, herself and her husband, the Lady was slightly stunned by the news. However, under strict instructions to keep the child a secret until it quickened -they had had a little scare with James and loathed to repeat it with this child- the Lady Kenna was duty bound to obey. "She's getting better, day by day. They think it nothing but influenza. She will be alright by the fortnight." Kenna assured.
"I am glad." Lola fiddled with her navy lace cuffs. "May we talk?"
"About what? You'll be leaving soon. James granted you an extended stay in court, yes, but seeing as though Mary will be up and ruling sooner rather than later, I expect your presence and batchelorette days soon to be over."
"Batchelorette?"
"Didn't she tell you? Mary wishes to marry you off, keep you and your son a little secret. In time, the boys won't know nor resent each other, and the scorn your child will face will be minimal at best." she shrugged a shoulder. "I cannot say I agree with this notion, as the privy council wishes more than anything for your crimes to be atoned. But, Mary thinks a dowry is of more value than your blood."
"She's saving me?"
"God knows why." Kenna blurted.
"Her kindness and protection are worse punishments than execution."
"You miss your friend?" Kenna asked, twirling a sapphire on a golden band that lay upon her finger.
"I do." Lola admitted, her head lowering.
"Then maybe, you should act like it. And always should have." a voice said from behind them. A regal, so recognisable voice.
"Mary!" Lola exclaimed, snapping up and turning around. Behind her, Kenna stood slowly, falling into a deep curtsy. Upon hearing the rustle of silk, Lola followed suit. Holding onto Greer and Aimee's arms for strength, Mary watched with satisfaction, until she moved a hand and both ladies stood
"The correct correct form of address is your Imperial Majesty." Mary coolly reminded her, her voice dripping with royal authority, but still weak from her illness. Her body was pale and thin, a stark contrast to the glowing porcelain, strong figure she had once possessed. "However, I will allow it this one time. Now," she moved on. "what is this? Why is my name being brought up?" Mary asked.
"Please, Mary." Lola begged. "You are my friend!
"Aylee was your friend." Mary glared. "Greer," she looked to her right, her oldest and dearest and most loyal. "and Kenna," she glanced up at her half sister in law. "are your friends. I am your Queen and you are my subject! And you will obey me!