Francis held his wife's arm for support as they journeyed through the corridors of the castle.
"We should only have to make a short appearance tonight, as long as Antoine cooperates," Mary reassured. "Remember, if you need help, give the signal and I'll be at your side."
Francis grinned and practiced by crossing his index and middle finger. "I love it when you join me as a co-conspirator."
She lifted an eyebrow. "I'd conspire with you any day, my love."
He laughed at his wife's cheeky remark as they rounded the corner. Then festive music from the banquet hall filled the air. His right knee chose that moment to wobble. It was only for a second, but Mary noticed and held onto him a little tighter.
She paused before the entrance and kissed his cheek. "Just don't overdo it."
He nodded and straightened his posture before continuing on. Tonight they needed to put on a show for his cousin Antoine and the nobles. He had to squash any rumors about his illness to secure the future of his brother's reign. Antoine would never sign an accord renouncing his claim to the French throne if he knew the request came from a dying king.
Mary led the way to his cousin's table. "Here's our chance. The seat beside him is empty."
Francis breathed a sigh of relief but the short distance to the unoccupied chair seemed like a massive feat. The trip down the hall alone had drained him. He desperately needed to rest. Almost there. Only five steps more."
Just then, someone clapped beside him. "Musicians…dancing music for the king and queen."
The musicians started playing a familiar tune and Mary turned to him with concerned eyes. "Francis, we don't have to. I'll make an excuse."
He drew in a ragged breath and almost agreed but the sad flicker in her eyes made him stop. Francis had invested so much time planning a future for his country and loved ones after his death. But what about enjoying today?
Just this morning he'd lamented, There are so many things I wish we'd done together…eating oranges freshly plucked from the trees in Nice…dancing under the stars at the Louvre.
Well, we were married there, Mary had reminded him.
Ah. So many ceremonies, so many nobles and we barely got to dance.
We will do all those things…we will.
As the memory faded, Francis pushed all thoughts of politics aside. He'd find time to talk with Antoine later. Instead, he thought of his sweet optimistic wife who still held out hope for their future. She deserved a special moment with him. Francis took hold of Mary's hand, drawing strength from thin air. "No, I want to dance with you."
"Can you do this?" she asked as he led her to the middle of the dance floor.
He cleared his throat and gave her a weak grin. "We came here to put on a show. What better way than this?"
Uncertainty still clouded her eyes but she gave a slight bow and kissed his hand. He returned the gesture and then they started the dance, rotating in a circle with their palms touching. They switched directions and Francis already felt out of breath.
Could he do this? Steadying his breathing proved hard enough, not to mention remembering all the steps and hand motions of the dance. At least he wore a long tunic that night to hide his trembling knees.
As if Mary knew his innermost thoughts, when they switched hand positions, she stepped forward instead of back.
He smiled and sucked in a breath of air as they continued on. "You're leading."
"Just keep your eyes on me," she murmured.
He obeyed, matching her movements step by step until she rotated away to twirl. When she faced him again, he instinctively took the lead and placed his hands on her waist for the traditional lift.
Halfway up, her eyes widened and he realized his mistake. Mary had planned on modifying the lift for his benefit. It was too late now. His head pounded and dizziness threatened to land him on the floor.
He put her down and gasped for breath as his vision blurred. Francis knew he was in trouble as his body wavered and tilted forward. Would he collapse in front of all their guests?
"Stay with me. Stay with me," Mary whispered.
Her voice pulled him back from the ledge and she guided his body toward her, signaling him to dip her backwards. It was the perfect cover up and created just enough time for Francis to regain his bearings.
When they came back up and continued, Mary's beautiful smile made him forget every ache in his body. Even the people around them faded away. They were alone in Paris, dancing under the stars at the Louvre without a care in the world. This was their time—their dance.
What had he done to deserve such a wonderful partner—not only for this dance, but for life? They had something rare and beautiful—an equal partnership where each member took turns leading and following. Working together, they could accomplish anything.
Mary signaled with her finger as she rotated toward him. One more lift, but this time he followed her lead. She put her arm around his shoulders and he swung her in a graceful half-circle. Then they rotated together, face to face. He relished the softness of Mary's cheek in his palm and the way her delicate fingers warmed his face. Nothing could be better than this. He held his wife—the most precious gift he been blessed with on this earth.
"Almost finished," she whispered and they turned away from each other one more time before coming face to face again.
Francis joined hands with his wife, wishing they could dance all night. But his right knee faltered, dropping all the way to the floor.
He gasped for breath as his fantasy of dancing at the Louvre melted away. They were back in the castle and every guest in the room saw his moment of weakness.
Thankfully, Mary didn't miss a beat. She smiled, gave an elegant bow and cupped his cheek in her palm.
Francis held her hand against his cheek in silent appreciation. Thanks to Mary's quick thinking, they appeared to end their dance with romantic flair. The King of France was kneeling before his queen.
After Mary helped him stand and they left the dance floor, everything became painfully clear. He'd never survive a trip to Paris—never dance under the stars at the Louvre with his wife like he dreamed. But did it really matter anymore?
Their life together had been an intricate dance, full of unexpected twists and turns. Even if it was coming to a premature end, Francis knew he'd been blessed with an amazing partner. He would savor every moment of his dance with Mary, until his final breath.