So, it's ten at night and this came to me when I was supposed to be sleeping as I'll wake up early tomorrow for a long journey home from university to attend some event. Well, my brain has now shut down writing all of this, so enjoy it!
Bash stares intently at the baby. She looks back up at him, curious and in awe of his green eyes. Her own eyes are light brown, almost hazel, taking after her mother's side mostly with her brunette locks as well. She's definitely Kenna's daughter, there's an air of beauty and mystery about the baby, one look and you're hooked for life.
"Where's her mother?"
Bash turns slightly and sees his brother come to stand beside him. "The governess said that Mary called her away."
Both men stare down at the baby. She's well-behaved, doesn't cry or whimper once as the King and his half-brother study her. It's like she knows she's safe.
"Are you... looking for a sign?" Francis asks quietly.
Bash shrugs. "They said she was early. Three months. But she's perfectly weighted for a full-term. Perhaps it's because she eats too much."
"If she is full-term, you know what that means, right?"
Bash narrows his eyes a little. "We took precautions."
"They're not always reliable," Francis says warningly. "Not that Mary and I ever used them but-"
"You never knew the meaning of precautions even if it hit you on the head," Bash says teasingly. He hushes the girl when she starts to fuss, her lips pouting and head wandering. "Hungry."
"How do you know?"
"She looks like she is searching for something," Bash says. The baby settles and he sighs. "She's put off for now."
"What are you going to do?" Francis asks him softly.
"I don't know. What can I do?" Bash retorts, placing his finger into the baby's hand that clutches it tightly for comfort.
"I can't give you an answer-"
"Then, there's only one thing to do, raise it as mine."
"'It'?" Francis questions lightly.
Bash smirks. "Her," he corrects himself.
"She has a name," Francis tells his brother. "Sophia. Sophia Marie, named after Mary."
Bash sighs softly. He has no right to name the child, but he can't deny that it suits the baby. So sweet and gentle and innocent. It's not her fault how she came to be, the bastard of a traitor. He's a bastard himself, perhaps he can bond with her on that. Not that he'll ever let her know that he didn't sire her.
"Wisdom," Bash whispers. "Will you be a wise, little girl?"
The baby coos.
"How wonderful," Bash mumbles. "A strange, little creature of awe and observation, responds to a question beyond her comprehension."
"Perhaps she is your daughter after all," Francis teases him before leaving.
...
At three years of age, Sophia is trained out of referring to Bash as 'papa'. Her hair is being brushed and her dress is being put on for the day as everyone works to celebrate the Dauphin's first birthday.
Francis and Mary hope to raise James as Sophia's cousin, but Kenna politely nudges them in the direction of playmates and a future lady-in-waiting for James's future sister or wife.
They're not blood, Kenna reminds herself and then scolds herself. They are, but through Mary and Kenna, distant half-cousins via their fathers. That is as much relation that Sophia and James will be. Never through their fathers.
"Address the Duke," Kenna starts, almost rolling her eyes at the fact that she's finally a duchess if only in name and not in any other sense. "As 'My Lord'."
"Is he not my papa?" Sophia asks, eyes wide through the mirror.
Kenna freezes. "The Duke is a formal man," she says gently. "Most especially in front of others. I do not wish to upset him. Do you want to upset him?"
Sophia shakes her head. "No, Mama."
"Good," Kenna says because it is good. Sophia is not Bash's daughter and three years of taking care of her bastard and housing, funding and caring for them is too gracious. She doesn't want to rub salt into the wound, having the girl call him father when he's only her father in name bound by his and Kenna's marriage to protect her reputation.
She couldn't give Sophia up, a part of her was drawn to the child. She may be a bastard but she was loved and Kenna loves her so much, her whole life is now dedicated to Sophia.
Kenna doesn't expect her husband's presence in her bedchamber nor during supper. But he's there. He lays beside her in silence, sometimes they share a drink after Sophia's asleep but they rarely talk and if they do, they argue terribly. Who can hurt the other the most?
"Just refer to the Duke as 'My Lord'," Kenna finally breathes out once again, more for herself.
The door to Sophia's bedchamber opens and Bash strolls in, dressed in one of his best outfits. His eyes are warm when they land on the little girl and just as he reaches to pick her up, her voice and curtsey surprise him.
"My Lord," she says in her tiny, sweet voice and the curtsey her mother had trained her with.
Bash's eyes flash with something and he turns to Kenna who looks away to put the brush away. "Sophia," he greets her. "Would you like to accompany me to your cousin's party?"
There will be a lot of children attending, girls with their fathers, boys with their mothers. Sophia is the apple of Bash's eye, despite her paternity and he lifts her into his arms, pressing a soft kiss on her hairline.
"Yes, Pa-My Lord," she tells him politely.
Bash sighs and puts her down. "Wait with the guards. I need to speak to your mother."
Kenna closes her eyes. Mother meant he was upset. Mama was a normal, daily occurrence and when she hears the door shut, she hears him take a sharp intake of breath.
"What will people think when my daughter starts referring to me as 'My Lord'?" Bash snaps.
"She's not your daughter," Kenna says, standing up and turning to face him. "We've established that when you demanded I be your wife in name."
"Why are you making things-"
"What?" Kenna asks him. "Do not act as if you've been the best father in the world. You leave for weeks and months on end, return with meaningless gifts and promises and I pick up the pieces. For a man who isn't even her father in the first place!"
"Kenna-"
"You said you would change," Kenna snaps at him. "If we decided to remain together, you claim my child, you promised to change. That you'd accept her and we'd be a family."
Bash scowls. "One out of two isn't that bad."
"Do you hate me that much?" Kenna asks in disbelief. "I've not damaged our marriage, you did that the moment you decided what I had to say regarding Antoine Navarre wasn't worth it. The moment when you chose a madwoman's words over mine! The moment your madwoman tried to kill me and my baby!"
Bash winces. He'll never forget Delphine appearing in Sophia's nursery as Kenna slept nearby, not wanting to leave her newborn daughter as new motherhood paranoia settled in. She was right for her fear and Bash had to kill Delphine, her blood splattering all over Sophia and Kenna's screams loud enough to send Francis and Mary running to see what was going on.
Both man and wife had nightmares, sharing one night of desperate passion before never being like that again as the years went on.
"I'm sorry," Bash finally whispers. "Can we speak-"
"No," Kenna says. "Not now, not ever. Go and attend to my daughter."
"Our daughter," Bash tells her firmly. "Otherwise your reputation would be damaged if the wrong ears heard."
Kenna bows her head. "Very well, My Lord," she says tauntingly.
Never 'Bash' since they got back together somewhat, always a different tone of 'My Lord'. Even when he addresses her in front of others, she's the obedient, quiet wife who nods and agrees and smiles and laughs at her husband's jokes. Still, 'My Lord'.
"See to it that she enjoys the last few hours she has left with you, My Lord," Kenna tells him as he heads to the door, his hand on the handle. "Make sure you bid her farewell before you go to war."
...
Two years later, after Sophia's fifth birthday, her new cousin Anne is born. James is three now and talks a lot and Anne is a big baby who just sits down in the governess's arms and stares, cries and poops.
The King and Queen of France and Scotland are overjoyed, finding out that the two-year-long war is finally over and they've won the war, albeit lost a few battles.
Sophia would be lying if she admits she didn't miss her father. He came once last year, gifting her a pony through her mother before leaving without so much as a 'hello' or 'goodbye'. She's jealous of her King Uncle's relationship with his son and daughter.
Francis invites her to play at times but her mother scolded her once for leaning onto him for fatherly advice. She has a father, he's just not present at the moment but the way her mother tells her to be against going to Francis for comfort makes Sophia believe she has no father.
"I don't believe my papa is alive," she whispers to her pony, Luella. "Mama told me not to rely on His Majesty. That means Papa's dead, right? His Lord's never coming home. I have no father, Luella."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," she hears and she gasps, turning to see those green eyes that kissed her head 'goodbye' after James's first birthday.
"My Lord-"
"Sophia!" Bash cries out, lifting her into his arms and hugging her tightly. It was worth the wait, getting bathed and shaved and cleaned. Feeling her small arms around his neck tightly, he wouldn't have wanted to dirty her pretty dress for which his wife would scold her for doing so. "My little princess..."
Sophia pulls back a little bit, her eyes full of tears. "I missed you."
Bash falters. He did miss her but he couldn't let himself become too attached. "I-I missed you too, Sophia." He places her down. "Do you like your pony?"
She nods. "She's called Luella."
"That's nice," Bash says, looking up to see Kenna walking over to them, her hands folded in front of her stomach and back straight and tall. "My darling, I have so much to do but tomorrow, I will spend time with you."
Sophia nods happily. "Alright!"
"Why don't you seek James? I have to see your uncle."
Sophia rushes off just as Kenna reaches him. They both look on as the little girl joins hands with the governess who leads her inside behind the other governess that holds Anne in her arms with James toddling after.
"Visit my bedchamber after she's settled for bed," Bash tells Kenna before leaving her side.
Kenna obliges, arriving before his guards come nightfall. They let her in, acknowledging her as his wife and she meets him, slowing sipping on wine in front of his fireplace.
His shirt is undone, bags underneath his eyes, hair tousled as if he has run his fingers through it multiple times. His hand is shaking and his breathing is quick and nervous as she notes, coming closer to him.
"My Lord?" Kenna whispers carefully.
Bash freezes and calms down, his eyes meeting hers. "Wife," he mumbles, lifting up the jug. "Wine?"
"No," she declines, taking a seat in the armchair before his.
"Sophia."
Kenna's heart stops. "What about her? Has she displeased you-"
"Until I have a son, she will be my heir. Should I die, she inherits everything I own."
Kenna feels relief and tears sting her eyes. "Yes, My Lord. Thank you, My Lord." Her fingers reach to undo the laces of her dress. He needs a son, he needs her to do her duties as his-
"Stop," Bash whispers, turning to her in confusion. "Don't do that."
She stops. "Whatever you want, My-"
"Drop the formalities. It's been five years," Bash says, a little angrily. "Is it to punish me? To make up for all the detachment-"
"Since we agreed to be husband and wife in name only," Kenna begins. "I must be the obedient, little wife so nobody scorns us all. It's a small price to pay for everything that went on between us. I wish for my daughter to be happy. To have a quiet, happy life without gossip or stares. I have to be compliant. So you don't..."
"I don't what?" Bash asks, his eyes darkening. "Hurt her? Scorn her? Reject her? Hate her?"
Kenna swallows deeply. "You'd hate her for not being yours? For inheriting all you own should you bear no sons, legitimate or otherwise?"
"I don't have a mistress, Kenna. I have barely enough time for a wife-"
"Exactly," Kenna scoffs. "And how will you get this son you want? I am not the Virgin Mary."
"I will not rape you either," Bash snaps.
Kenna raises her eyebrows. "I will give you consent. Not that you need it, I am your wife-"
"God, you're insufferable!" He cries out. "Kenna, we used to share a bed, in love and happy. Why on God's Earth would you compare me to my father who took without giving? Who took without asking?!"
Kenna lets out a sob. "We've not been like that in over five years," she whispers. "You're better off taking on some poor soul as your mistress if you can't stand to be with-"
"I'm not my father," Bash mumbled dejectedly. "We'll make it work."
"Alright," she agrees.
"There's a way to find out," Bash suddenly says.
"Find out what?"
Bash turns to her. "Who is Sophia's father. True father."
Kenna gasps. "How?"
"Catherine."
Kenna's face falls and she rolls her eyes. "As you said, it's been five years since we've agreed to reconcile in name only. What more will there ever be? Nothing will change if the truth comes out, regardless of who. We haven't changed and never will."
She rises from her seat and takes the cup from his hand, downs it, places it onto the table and leaves.
...
"This potion will turn blue if the child bears the Valois blood," Catherine explains, showing Bash the clear liquid. "All I need is a drop of her blood."
Bash stills. He can't hurt his daughter like that, even if she wasn't. "How do I know this is real?"
Catherine reaches out for his hand. "Cut yourself and put your blood inside."
Bash retrieves his dagger and slices his palm a little, tilting the hand so that a drop of his blood enters the liquid. Soon, the liquid turns a deep blue colour.
"You are your father's son," Catherine mutters, drawing blood from her own hand and putting it into another clear liquid-filled vial.
No change.
Bash smiles a little. "I will retrieve her."
After giving Sophia something to make sure she remains asleep so he doesn't wake her when he draws her blood, he lifts the girl into his arms and takes her downstairs to Nostradamus's lair where the seer and Queen Mother wait.
He lays the girl down on the bed and retrieves her palm. "You have something to heal the wound, don't you?"
"Do you even need to ask?" Catherine asks as Nostradamus reveals a salve.
Bash nods, and gently uses his dagger to cut a small line on Sophia's hand. He tilts her hand to the vial and a blood drop enters the liquid.
The three await the result.
...
Bash leaves the castle the next day and Kenna bemoans to Lola and Mary that he promised their daughter a day to themselves but lied. She's angry, frustrated and now has to take care of a little girl whose heart is broken and tearful all the time, complaining that her palm stings. They both have no recollection of how she received the cut on her palm.
After settling the child to sleep that night, she returns to her bedchamber and finds that it's surrounded with flowers. She lifts a note from the vanity table and reads it.
'Join me for a nightcap. Bash.'
She crumples the paper in her hand and storms straight to his bedchamber, ignoring the guards as she opens the door wide and enters. The door quickly closes behind her and Bash rises from the table, showing her the food, cakes and drinks laid out.
"What is wrong with you?!" She cries out. "Sophia was crying, you bast-"
"Kenna, I want to try," he quickly cuts her off. "I'm so sorry. I should have believed you. I promise you, everything will be different from here on out. Sophia will be loved and happy and-"
"Bash-"
"I'll delegate work and spend more time with you both, making things up to Sophia. I'll demand that she call me her father, her papa."
"Bash-"
"Because that is what I am!" Bash finishes.
Kenna freezes. "What?"
"I asked Catherine-"
"You cut my child?!"
"Our child!" Bash tells her. "And for good reason."
Kenna's eyes sting with tears. "What reason? To find out that if you hadn't had rejected me five years ago and listened to that forest whore, we'd be happy?"
Bash gets down on one knee. "Kenna, Sophia carries the Valois blood inside of her. If she was Renaude's the liquid would have remained clear but it turned blue. She wasn't early, she was on time. And God, I am so sorry for making you and she suffer for my mistakes-"
"Stop," Kenna croaks out. "This doesn't change anything. Yes, you know now that Sophia is your daughter but you-"
"I will tender my resignation right now," Bash says, getting up and heading to the door. "Leith Bayard will be a suitable replacement. I have lands, a chateau with a chapel and stables and beautiful gardens, all for us. All for you, Sophia and me. And our children that come after her."
"Are you mad?!"
"Quite so," Bash replies, turning to face her. "Madly in love with you and I never stopped being in love with you. I was hurt, angry but-"
"Do you mean it?" She asks shakily.
Bash nods, coming over to cup her cheeks and kiss her lips. "God, I mean it. I'm your husband. Sophia's father. I will be called as such, no more of these formalities nonsense you use against me."
Kenna places her hands on his. "Took you five years," she mumbles, laughing a little.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry."
...
At age sixteen, a marriage proposal between Lady Sophia de Poitiers and the third son of some European king is drawn up. Her King Uncle signs it off with her parents' permission and her heart breaks once the signature is dried.
But then her father's face shifts and he speaks out. "No," he says. "Rip it up."
"I've signed it," Francis tells his brother. "The Pope will-"
"No, we can't do this," Bash says, turning to his wife. "We can't give our only daughter away like this."
Kenna nods, turning to Sophia. "We can't," she breathes out. "I'm sorry, Francis. Even if it secures an alliance-"
"We want our daughter to marry for love. Women are second-class, it will be hard to find a decent arranged marriage," Bash explains. "Our sons can be put forward for the king's third and fourth daughters instead. Our daughter must marry for love."
Sophia hugs her father tightly, feeling his lips on her forehead. "Thank you, Papa."
"My darling daughter..." He whispers.
"Our darling daughter," her mother corrects him, cupping Sophia's cheek. "Your father and I may have had an unconventional start to our marriage, but that starts and end with us. You must be happy."
Sophia beams happily. "I will be." She turns to Francis. "Uncle, I am so sorry-"
"You are your father's daughter," Francis says warmly. "His heart opens easily and when it does, whoever is on the receiving end is destined for a beautiful life."
Kenna blushes and leans into Bash's side as Sophia's eyes sparkle with unshed tears of happiness. Kenna winks at her daughter. "Go and find him."
"How did you...?"
"You do know who your father is, don't you?" Francis asks his niece.
Sophia gasps. "Papa!"
"Just let him rise through the ranks first, will you?" Bash mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. "You are worth more than a stable boy."
"Says the Master of Horse and Hunt," Francis says under his breath.
Sophia grins. "What?"
"Who said that?" Francis replies, ripping up the marriage contract with a grin of his own. "We better go and celebrate your brother's eleventh birthday. By next year, his own marriage contract will be written and signed."
Kenna pouts. "They grow up so quickly," she says softly. "We better go and stop Rose and Alexander from causing too much mischief."
"They're three-year-olds!" Bash tells her as they leave Francis's office. "What mess can they..."
The four are met with the Princess of France and her cousin staining the hallway carpets with jam.
"Now, how on Earth did they find that?" Francis mutters, a hand going to his head.
The End.