"Mama." James smiled, rushing into the room where his mother and brother lay. Reclined upon the pillows, Mary was settled comfortably. Her white nightgown hung slightly on her frame, shrinking bump disguised under the mound of blankets and furs that lay on the bed. Neck and shoulders exposed, the sleeves were oversized on the arms, clinging only by the weight of her newborn baby that fed upon her breast.
"My love." she smiled. Smiling wide at her, the little boy scaling the bed and settling at her side.
"Missed you." the boy smiled. Mary pressed a kiss to his hair and he petted his brother's blonde hair.
"You too, Lucien." he giggled.
"Mary." a tired voice said. Looking up, she saw that it was her blonde haired Lady had taken her son in to see her and stood a few feet away.
"Greer," she smiled as much as possible, her heart aching at the sight of her grief-stricken friend who was her most precious Lady, even more than the Baronness, who could be a little vain and materialistic at times. "Please, sit." sbe nodded to the chair Francis had so recently vacated.
Greer quietly sat upon the chair, looking slowly at Lucien before his mother. "How are you feeling?"
"Still quite sore, but it's worth it." she smiled softly at the newborn boy. "And you?"
"Sad." Greer admitted softly. "This baby, I-" she trailed off.
"I know." the Empress half smiled sympathetically, knowing full well the pain her dear lady was going through. Reaching over for a few small cakes that servents had left at her most recent yet almost constant tea time, she passed them to her friend. She could remember Kenna's fears of the dowager Lady losing her baby because of her grief infused refusal to eat.
"Here, for the baby." she smiled softly, repeating the words Greer had said in France when she was still pregnant with the little boy who sat giggling at his little brother as he fed from her.
"Thank you," she said, her voice soft and tired. Mary nodded and reached again, sipping on a cup of hot tea quietly as Greer finished the little cakes in silence.
"I received word from your brother James."
"My regent or my commanding officer, or my religious tolerance enforcer?" she asked, not liking the fact so many of her half brothers were named after her father.
"Regent." Greer half smiled. "He's received word from Denmark."
"Denmark? Is it about the marriage between James and Princess Anne?" she asked, watching James look up at the mention of his and his betrothed's names.
"Yes, he says that the Princess is ready to set sail as soon as you give the word."
"I'm not sure if I want her to sail to meet her future husband yet, we're still not friendly with Spain and the Vatican isn't happy with me because of it, with the addition of Anne's protestantism."
"Well, I'm sure the offer will stand." she said, her tone now a little faint.
"Mama?" James asked. "Anne?" the little boy finished. The two little royals had sent squiggly letters to each other for a couple months and had seemed to have formed a bond. It was something that the Empress approved of, seeing as though when she had came to France as a five year old girl, she had no idea who anybody was and found it hard to bond with her resentful betrothed at first.
"Yes, Anne." she said, referencing the little Danish Princess of whom her son would probably marry. "She'll be here in a while."
That seemed to appease her almost four year old son as he gave her a big toothy grin, before becoming rather distracted with his brother's little hand as it moved.
A few minutes of comfortable silence went past, in which Greer had pulled a book out and Lucien had finished eating. "Will they wed?" Greer asked her suddenly, reaching for a goblet and filling it with water, sipping slowly. "James and Anne, will they wed?" she finished.
"I assume so, if all goes to plan." she nodded, slowly coaxing air from her baby's stomach.
"And the Princess will come to where?"
"Wherever James is, I suppose. Francis and I are going to take trips all around our countries to rule every few months." Mary clarified.
"And the wedding?"
"It's a few years away, Greer." Mary chuckled. "But I imagine it'll be in France and they'll live in England or Scotland."
"Will it be like your wedding?" she asked. "Considering what happened the day before." she finished.
"I'm not going to let my son make his father's mistakes." Mary shook her head, remembering the moment when she figured out what happened with Francis and Lola, which prompted her to find out from some of her working girls.
This was very bizarre. Mary admitted to herself silently as she entered the consummation room. Her body trembled in anticipation for Francis' touch, even though the last time she had felt it was less than a day ago, but the lust pooling inside her battled against the nervousness and awkwardness she already felt inside herself. The Queen of Scotland and the new Dauphiness of France nervously turned around, letting Kenna slip off the lace robe that she wore over the ill fitting consumable robe that was obligitory on a proper Catholic wedding night. She felt Greer brush out her hair from it's loosened twists and long curls, Lola slowly rubbing scented oils upon her neck and behind her ears. She exhaled nervously as she heard the door open again, over the russles of courtiers bowing and the murmurs of the Vatican blessing the bed.
When her ladies finished preparing her for the ceremony, she nodded as they curtseyed to her and took their places a few feet away from the bed.
Gulping in nervousness and excitement, the raven haired beauty looked upon her new husband and master as he came close. Francis took small steps towards her, a boyish grin on his face as a hand extended put from his own consummation robes, but even she could see the uncomfortableness he felt at this certain tradition that they couldn't get out of. But, she took his hand and drew herself nearer to him. They came close and shared a nervously excited grin, before their lips met again.
Mary smiled to herself as she felt the petal softness of his lips. She had felt them a thousand times since her return to France not that long ago, but the feeling never failed to excite her as she took in their softness and heat, even as he backed her up towards the bed, just like he had done on their first night together.
Their lips stayed together, growing in intensity and need as Mary crawled backwards and Francis climbed onto the bed after her. She let out a soft moan, their tongues meeting for the first time in a mere few minutes which felt entirely too long. A hand slid into his long blonde locks and made a fist inside them, holding him closer to her as she reclined against the pillows.
Her husband pulled back for breath several seconds later, rubbing his nose against his wife's as her eyes opened, pupils dilated by a growing need pooling inside her and the dim light of the candles and the fire.
He brushed a kiss upon her lips.
"I love you." Francis breathed upon Mary's parted lips. She murmured the same against his own, before they disappeared to dance upon the skin of her neck. Soft means left Mary's lips as they completely settled under the covers. Mary hid them from view as much as possible, but feeling the Vatican's cold glare as she moved the sheet a little too high upon her new husband's back, she lowered it once more, closing her eyes in an attempt to hide from the two dozen people who watched them intently.
Her husband's mouth climbed back up to her lips. They shared a long kiss, before his mouth found her ear.
"We'll finish this as quickly as possible, and then we'll have the entire night to ourselves." he whispered, knowing how uncomfortable this tradition made them both.
Mary nodded softly, brushing her nose against his again, before slowly sliding her hands down his chest and torso as she had done last night, but a quick pause for breath in Francis' ever growing lustful kisses caused her to look the other way, finding her ladies.
They all looked uncomfortable, no doubt, she thought. But why did Lola look so guilty?
She sighed deeply, coming back to earth, pressing a kiss to James' dark curls as Lucien lay in her arms. The mother looked down to see him sleeping in her arms, gently snoozing, little kittenish 'awoos' leaving his pouted and parted lips. James rested his head upon Mary's shoulder. He fiddled with the long black strands of her hair absentmindedly, before his little hands found his brother's face.
"Gently." Mary reminded. He nodded, humming contently. "You mustn't wake him."
"Yes, mama." James nodded, watching his brother's lips puckered in response to his touch. Feeling that he may be disturbing him, James' hands left his brother's face and returned to his mother's hair. He fiddled with it, not really listening as Mary and Greer talked about things he couldn't understand.
The little boy looked around for a few moments, tugging upon her hand when he noticed something.
"Mama," he said. "Where's papa?"
"He's taking to somebody very important to him, love."
"I don't understand any of this." Francis admitted from his wife's side. He sat on the bed, holding her hand as she lay back against the pillows, Lucien suckling hungrily and greedily from her breast. In front of them, Catherine sat upon an overstuffed chair. Kenna had taken James away long ago, the Baroness resting in her chambers and the Dauphin playing with Leith and Meredith outside.
"What would you like me to explain, my love?" Catherine asked, her voice soft. Soft and maternal that it unnerved Mary. She knew never to trust Catherine, and was weary of the sudden change in affection in her. First, she hates her for a decade and a half, then the Medici noblewoman supports her like no other when they thought Francis was dead, then she betrays her time and time again, now Catherine saves her from poison? It didn't make any sense to Mary, who was already disorientated by the mix of tonics and herbs inside her system.
"How this all happened." Francis answered. "How Phillip nearly took them both from me." his eyes hardened and jaw locked at the second phrase he let out. Mary placed a hand upon his forearm to calm him, and it seemed to work. Catherine watched as her son relaxed considerably, before his wife went back to holding their baby securely to her breast as he took nourishment from his mother.
"It was the candle." Catherine took the small stick in her hand. It looked like any other candle. White and cylindrical but with little green and purple flecks inside it. It was lavender, but apparently there was a secret third ingredient. "It was laced with poison, let off in small quantities, released into the air by the flame." Catherine touched the burnt little nib at the top. "It is much like the candles in your chambers in France, do you remember?" the Medici matriarch asked the young Scottish Empress.
Indeed Mary did. For weeks, poison was slowly laced into her system by burning candles. It had only been when Sterling had started barking insistently upon seeing his mistress go down that made Catherine turn her over -when Mary had suddenly and unexpectedly keeled over onto the settee in which she had been laying- after story time with the other children, and saw the blood from her nose and the daze in her eyes had they noticed something was wrong. It had been terribly unsettling, another assassination attempt by the English. But Mary hadn't been frightened in the slightest. The children had been shaken, but not the five year old Queen. It had happened so often in Scotland, why would it be any different in France? She had only been there for four months at that point, only started getting along with little Francis. But that event had solidified his protectiveness of her, and it hadn't lessened since.
"I do."
"But this is different. The poison then was fast acting, which is why you bled. This one is slow, giving plenty of time for the killer to escape undetected."
"Well, who is it?" Francis glared. "What physical form tried to kill my wife?"
"Your bastard brother is working upon it. That's why is is Leith that is with your son in the snow." Catherine informed. "Hush now, let your mother tell her tale." she spoke as if still speaking to six year old Francis, how she had done to reassure his fears of Mary's safety the night they had found the poison in Mary's chambers. Francis' eyebrows rose, but he kept quiet. "This has been burning for a number of days. It's a miracle that that baby hasn't been affected by it."
"He is strong. He has his mother's blood." Francis interjected. Mary smiled at him, but saw emotion in his own mother's eyes.
"Be that as it may, it is good you took him away to be christened. It saved him from suffering. It seems the more it was burned, the more poison was laced into the air," she looked at Mary. "that's why you took a turn for the worst in a way you hadn't done before." she swallowed. "That's why you started to bleed from your nose. At that point, your ladies and physicians knew it was no infection, but poison. The Lady Greer came to retrieve me from the dungeon, knowing nobody knew poison such as I." she let out a self satisfied smirk. Mary blinked slowly. "I found you bleeding and murmuring nonsense, your eyes rolled back in your head, yet the lids open. Truly, a gruesome sight."
Mary looked away nervously, not remembering it. Whilst her husband's lips parted and he turned to her, his eyes closing, feeling another wave of self hatred that he hadn't been there when his wife had needed him the most.
"James, where was he? Did he see?" Mary asked. Of course, she had seen her boy a few hours previous and he hadn't let out any indications that he had seen such a horrid sight, but she could never know for sure.
"No, child. Your son was tucked up in his chambers at this time. He doesn't even know you were poisoned, just sickened, as in what he saw before his father left."
"So, you saved her." Francis nodded. Catherine repeated the action. "How?"
"I took a blade and got some of her blood from her wrist," she nodded to the thick bandage wrapped across Mary's left forearm. "Mixed a few things into it, before a last. When it bubbled, it narrowed it down to three possible poisons. The scent of the air narrowed it to two. And Mary's response to the oil of a primrose told me what it was."
"And that was?"
"It doesn't matter, son. All that matters is that I found an antidote and your wife and child are safe."
"And it would have gone to him because I-" Mary trailed off, looking down at the baby boy who sucked greedily at her breast.
"Yes."
"Is he-"
"He is perfectly safe, perfectly healthy. Don't worry, child."
"What I don't understand," Francis ran his hands down his face, the far more comfortable leather doublet he wore making a noise with the movement. "is why." he proclaimed.
"Why?"
"Why save her, them." his head nodded towards Mary and Lucien. She nodded in response, looking from husband to mother in law.
"Yes, why?" she asked. "For many years, you have hated me. Hated me when I was a child in France, rejoiced when I was sent away to convent, hated me when I returned to French Court. Something changed when he was in Italy, but when he returned, you betray me time and time again, reveal my secrets to my enemy and start an almost war. Why save my life, that of my son's?"
"Because I love my son. And my son loves you." Catherine replied, her chin increasing in height as it always did when she was uncomfortable facing her own emotions and psyche. "You know my reasoning for my dislike of you over your life. Jealousy. Your youth, beauty, fearlessness, royal blood. Things I will never and have never had. And I will not let my son's child suffer because of my childishness, he is innocent and most of all, my son's child. You know this, I informed you when you were pregnant."
"Be that as it may, you cannot blame us for being slightly concerned with this new revelation with your past actions against us." the Medici blooded, fair haired King informed his mother.
"Yes, I understand." Catherine paused. "But I would like to start to make amends. Not just for the sake of the children, but for you. I know you wish for your wife and mother to be on the same side -your side- and I am willing to do so. It won't be a matter of you both versus me anymore. I will be on your side, always."
"These are pretty words, but we need more than words. We need actions, not just implications of change that are just that, all talk."
"Very well. How can I start?"
"You were in Spanish court, yes?" Francis asked. Catherine nodded. "You saw Phillip?"
"I did."
"You know things about him. His marriage. His rule."
"I do."
"Share them with me, with us. Prevent war at all costs. It is the least you can do, you lit the flame for conflict. It is your job to extinguish it, before innocent men and women die because of your childishness."
"I will, Francis. I swear it."
Mary inhaled deeply, letting her head fall back against the pillows. The time for being a devoted mother was coming to an end, she noticed, hearing the murmurs between mother and son as they spoke of Spain and the war. It hadn't been the first time things like this had happened. She could clearly remember the conflict between being a devoted mother and a ruler. The first time it really happened was when she returned to Scotland after her husbands' 'death'. Of course, things with France and Stephane had never been easy, England even less so, but the issue of the long subdued John Knox had been the tipping point in joint motherhood and Queen-hood.
"Enough!" Mary had suddenly snapped, the Scotsman who was the most irritating of thorns in her side really pushing her buttons now.
"Never enough, my queen. I will destroy you. My followers will hear of this. And you will suffer the consequences. I will spread the word" she inhaled through her teeth. He hadn't been happy of the fact she had been looking into courtship and possible marriage to Henry Stuart, lord Darnley. And he was going to try and destroy her because of it.
No more, Knox. No more.
Something in Mary snapped. The fire appeared behind her eyes, and the flashed forwards, grabbing Knox's collar and getting so close to his face. She was tired of trying to appease him. He was her subject. She owned him. "Do not threaten me." she spat. "I am a queen, not just by marriage, but by blood. Royal blood runs through my veins. People believe and know that God chose me to rule over countries and empires, choosing me to rule how he would, whilst you just spout his teachings whenever you see fit. I am the Queen of England. I am the Queen of Scotland. I am the Regent of France. I was married to one of the most powerful men in the world, I have his country, his power. I rule over countries, I made an empire. I am an empire. You see those guards," she snapped his head to the guards. "They can say whatever i want them to. They will say whatever i want them to. I own them. I own every single subject of Scotland and of England and of France. They do whatever I tell them to. They will forever do whatever i tell them to. Because, if they don't, they will be hung, drawn and quartered. That is power," she spat, getting even closer, widening her eyes slightly, the lust for power overcoming her. She let it take her away. When she played a man's game in a man's world, nothing could matter more than power. "True power. Power that a commoner like you will never have." she spat. "And will never take away from me. You wish to rule Scotland? Take my god given country away from me? Simply because I am a woman? Let me tell you something, Scotland has only one true ruler. Me. Mary, Queen of Scotland. Crowned on my sixth day and appointed by the almighty Lord himself. It is my crown, my god given birthright and I will defend it, from anyone who tries to take it. And, if you do not agree to my terms, you will burn before the next sun rises. I promise you that." she threw him back against the wall. "You have one hour, or your head will be on a spike, sent to your sheep and whoever dares defy me." she spat, venom dripping from her words, before storming out. Knox was properly chastised, breathing heavily. One year ago, Mary was innocent and naive. Now, power hungry, cold and venomous. Poised and powerful. Imperial and strong. It was all because of them.
Her eyes opened again. She inhaled deeply, feeling Lucien's suckles start to wean now that he needed to be switched onto the other side. He wined softly as his mother unlatched him, fisting the soft material of her shift in his little hand as she lowered him onto the other side, covering up one and exposing the other.
"What is it?" Francis asked her. She looked at where he was, but found he wasn't there anymore. Instead, he and his mother were standing in the corner of the room, the height difference between the two almost comedic.
"Nothing," she sighed. "he just needs to go onto the other side." she finished.
"Ah, a hungry eater, is he?" Catherine smiled, cupping her hands against her chest. "You and your brothers were the same, Francis." she glanced at her first born son. "We didn't want to bother you, dear. You must get all the sleep possible."
I fell asleep? Mary asked herself, but shrugged it off. The poisoning and tonics in her system must play a part in tiredness. Plus, she hadn't recovered from the birth yet. And wouldn't until another month had passed.
The door knocked.
"Enter." Francis called, turning around.
Sebastian walked inside.
"Brother, what is it? Do you have any information on who did this?" the King asked, remembering what his mother had said to him about Sebastian's whereabouts.
"I do." he sighed. "You won't like it."
"Well, go on then. Tell us." Catherine pushed, coming over and pulling him into the room, closing the door.
"I found the crates where the candles were lit. All of them are poisoned. And I found out who is most likely responsible for this."
"Phillip." Francis answered.
"He may have a hand in this, but he is not the one who accepted the crates into the Palace."
"Well, spit it out." Catherine pushed. "Who did?"
Bash walked over towards Mary, handing her a flimsy bit of material.
"It's a crest." she said, looking at the incarnations upon the flimsy bit of dark green felt.
"It is. My wife thinks she recognises it. But she cannot be sure. Only you can be. Who's crest is it?" Sebastian asked.
Mary took several moments to look upon the crest. Her lips parted and she shook her head.
"No, it cannot be."
"It is, Mary." Sebastian looked towards the former Queen and current King of France. "This crest belongs to Lola Campbell."
"Did you know?" Greer stormed into the tower. From inside the cold, small chamber, Dame Lola stood up sharply. The fair haired Lady heard her bones crack loudly with the sudden movement, but the curly haired traitoress said nothing. "Did you know about what happened?!" she demanded.
"Greer?" Lola questioned. Her lips parted, taking in the small bump upon the Lady's abdomen. Blue eyes had flown to it the moment she came into her cell. "You're with child." Lola stated. The loyal Lady huffed in impatience.
"Yes, I am. But do not avert the question. Did you know?" she asked. "Did you know what happened to Mary?! Was it your doing?!" she cried.
"Did I know what?"
"You've been in contact with the Hapsburg's." she hissed. "And one of them, King Phillip, has just tried to assassinate our Empress and her newborn baby." she finished. Greer noticed the former Lady in waiting's eyes grow considerably. She seemed to stumble back an inch or two, holding out a hand to grasp a damp beam to keep her up steady, lips parting. Greer paused for a few moments. "It's ironic, is it not? That your calling card was left at the scene? Your seal was stamped onto the crate the candles came in." she chuckled. "Did you know? Did you try and kill Mary?" Greer demanded.
"Greer, I swear on the blood of my son that I did not." Lola begged. "I have been imprisoned for weeks. How could I have tried to kill my Queen?"
"If you're telling the truth, then you've been frames. Regardless of your guilt or innocence, you've been placed at the scene of the crime. Francis is furious with you. He wants your blood."
"I would never harm Mary! How could this have happened?"
"A poisoned candle, much like when she was a child in France." the Lady informed. "The vapours poisoned her slowly from the inside, she started showing signs not long ago. We thought she was suffering from an infection from childbirth, perhaps the afterbirth remaining inside, but we were wrong. Your fellow conspirator found it."
"How?"
"She drained a little of Mary's blood, mixed it with something, before adding a third essence. It fizzled. She was poisoned. Catherine saved her."
"I had no idea." Lola proclaimed. "Is she alright?"
"Recovering well." Greer looked down at Lola. "Francis and her sons have not left her side since the King returned in the early hours." she informed.
"I am glad." Lola answered. "Why would you think I have had anything to do with this? I've been imprisoned here for weeks."
"Are you really that stupid?" the Lady scoffed. "You have been in contact with the Hapsburg's, trying to marry your son off to Mary's enemy for months now. And now a Hapsburg King tries to assassinate his enemy, your seal attached to the crate after Mary and Francis stopped the engagement, and you want us to believe you had nothing to do with this?"
"I know how it looks, believe me, I do. But you have to believe me. I had nothing to do with this. I am no agent. I am no spy. I just wanted my child to have a safe and secure future should anything happen to his father. That's why I tried to have the engagement. Not to betray my Queen further, but to secure his future. I was -am- desperate."
"Through your further betrayals towards Mary." Greer informed. "She has given you every chance, and time and again, you betray her. Is it that hard to follow Kenna and I's lead? To be loyal? Is it?" the Lady asked. "In France, you blamed her for her almost rape, your little boyfriend's 'assassination'." she made air quotes. "Then you try to have a relationship with Sebastian under the Queen's nose, knowing her feelings for him. And then you sleep with Francis, conceive his bastard child, try to justify it and force her to keep your secret, then you lure him out to Italy for over two years, making everybody think he was dead! Because of you, James didn't know his father for years! And now, and now," she spat. "Your calling card is left at the scene of the crime and you want us to believe you had nothing to do with this?! Paint it however you want, but that is what happened! Every single time, you betray her! Each time, that blade comes closer to your neck. We're not sure how much longer she can keep the axe from you."
"I didn't try and kill her! What reason would I have?!" Lola cried out, throwing her hands up in the air.
"Jealousy of her crown? Envy of her children's legitimacy? Hatred over the fact Francis loved Mary and not you?" Greer listed off, her dark eyes narrow slits at the woman who she had once considered a sister. But not anymore. Not after what she had done.
"I don't want Francis!" Lola cried. "I never have and I never will! What happened between us was a pitiful night after we both lost so much! A moment of comfort! I was wracked with guilt the moment it was over! Nobody was ever supposed to find out!"
"You lied terribly that day and I don't believe you anyway." Greer spat. It was true. Lola lied terribly the afternoon she returned with Francis, how could she think she could keep it a secret for the rest of her life? Foolish little girl.
"You should! I regret that every single moment of the day! You think I wouldn't give anything so that my son would have been Julian's, Mary and Francis happy and the last years of turmoil would not have happened?! You think I don't regret my choice, it was the worst mistake of my life!" Lola cried out again, fisting her hair in frustration and upset anger.
"And yet you don't try and make up for it. You try and make it worse by betraying the one person who has protected you through everything!" Greer snapped back. "Mary is the one person who keeps you from the scaffold, yet you give her reason to push you towards it? What is wrong with you?!"
"I didn't mean to! I was desperate! In the plague, I didn't want to die, nor my child to die. That's why I called for Mary, that's why asked her to tell Francis! I didn't mean to end up in Italy, it just happened!"
"Things like that do not just happen!"
"It did! Francis and John and I just ran so far. We ran until the plague stopped following us, but we ended up in Italy. We needed time, money and food to get back. We couldn't find anybody who knew or cared who we were, no Medici's that cared of my son's and Francis' blood connection to them. All we could do was save money to get back to French court. And by that time, times had changed."
"It does not take two and a half years to get back to northern France from mid Italy. You played house and family."
"No! It just took that long because we needed to feed ourselves and clothe the baby, you're a mother. You know how expensive it is to raise a baby, even on a Lady's pay!" Lola exclaimed, her heart thumping from underneath her rib cage, tears filling her eyes.
"Be that as it may, you have betrayed Mary time and time again. Nothing you can do or say will change that. But with this? I don't see how you are ever going to get back from this. Even if you didn't do it. Even if you are just framed for this crime, you will need to convince Francis of this. Not me. But God help you from his wrath when he comes for you."
They stopped their fighting for a few moments. Greer turned away from the traitoress and the aforementioned traitoress breathed her shuddered cries, sniffling as she inhaled, shaky breaths leaving her mouth as tears slipped down her cheeks.
"What happens, now, Greer?" Lola asked.
Greer chuckled. "Now? Francis wants to rip your head off for your involvement in the plot to kill the one he loves the most."
"I am innocent, Greer." she proclaimed.
"If you are, those you tried to help have back stabbed you, framed you for their crime and it is you who will go down for it, including the King of Spain who hates our Empress. You may be innocent, but you will be implicated." she nodded. "Doesn't feel nice, does it? Being betrayed? Doing everything you can to help somebody, only to have it thrown back into your face." she hissed, not looking at her.
"To my son. What happens to my John?"
"Francis will care for him. He has nannies for him. He is well looked after. The King wishes to establish a bond between his sons, so James will protect him when their father dies. But, it is up to the Dauphin if he permits it. If he holds your son accountable for your mistakes, your son will live in purgatory for the rest of his days."
"It has to change."
"What are you going to do? Force a three year old to wish to know his bastard half brother, the very same one who has caused him immeasurable amounts of pain, the one who has hurt the one that boy loves the most? No, you can't pull that card again. This is their decision. It is their lives, you won't force this."
"I want my son safe, Greer."
"As I do my own, but you cannot force the Dauphin, the one who will always come above your bastard child, to wish the same. The Prince may want to love him, but your child's uncontrollable anger and jealousy is making it very easy for James to hate him." Greer shook her head. "You may want him to be like Sebastian, but the reality is that this will never happen. They are too different. And Bash always understood that Francis wasn't to blame for his conception, his legitimacy and his crown. John does not. Even after Francis and Sebastian tried to talk him out of his anger towards your son, the boy still resents him. Just look at the way your son looks at Mary's, with such anger and jealousy in his eyes. God knows how he is going to react if he ever sees the newborn Prince face to face." the Lady Castleroy said, finally turning to face Lola.
"I hear the Prince loves your son."
"He does." Greer nodded. "My son treats him kindly and with respect, his mother does not cause problems within his parents' marriage. I am loyal to my Queen and King, my Emperor and Empress. But what are you? It is because of the way you act that causes your son to act the way he does. It is a domino effect. Your son treats the future King and Emperor with such distain that he will regret it in the future. I promise you that. But of course, you are locked up in this cell, you cannot do anything about your child's actions. Only his father and himself can. But it seems the child has no interest in his future. He is set in his way and thinks his father will always be here to protect him. But the fact of the matter is, it is not true. Who knew that those two years in Italy and those months in France would shape the boy into who he is now and who he will be as he grows."
Lola said nothing.
"It's incredible, really. You betray her time and time again, cause your son to do the same to his half brother, yet you wonder why the future is not sunshine and rainbows, just as you always have, Lola." Greer shook her head. "But I warn you again, beware of Francis' anger towards you. As it just may cause you to loose your life."