He walks into their rooms late in the afternoon, after appropriately thanking their hosts. He's played the part of the dauphin as was expected, and now he wants nothing more than to return to the warmth of Mary. Still amazed and grateful that he gets to call her his wife. She has her back to him when he enters. Busy folding her shifts and pushing them to the bottom of a chest, the lines of her body stiff.
"You have servants for that, you know?" he tells her, joking, and at once he can see part of the tension leave her shoulders.
"It's quite all right," she answers, continuing to fold her clothes, albeit with less resentment. "Our period of grace is coming to a close, and I want to make sure I don't leave anything behind here."
"It's true we only have one destination left before going back to court, but I'd like to think nothing is over," he says softly. "Is that what has you like this?"
"It's nothing, I just….I don't want things to change," she says. For the first time looking up at him as though words fail her.
"What do you mean?" The past months have held nothing but joy for them. He never even knew he could be so immeasurably happy; but he can see worry lines on her forehead.
"We've been so happy these months, and when we return to court…" She seems about to say something else, but then looks back down at the task at hand. "We both know your father will keep you otherwise occupied, that's all." She rather violently folds a coverlet and stuffs it in the chest.
"And you're afraid I won't have any time for us? That we'll be too busy to be with each other?"
Her silence tells him that this is exactly what troubles her.
"Mary, things will change," he says, and she looks at him almost hurt. "But for the better. We're married now. No matter what has our attention during the day, we'll go to bed next to each other."
He extends his hand for her to take, and she puts down the nightgown she's holding to go to him. He pulls her away from the strewn clothes and hopefully away from her worry as well. She steps into his embrace with a sigh. One of his hands comes to rest on her waist, as the other rubs comforting circles on her back.
"My silly, beautiful girl..." he breathes her in as the words leave his mouth. "Nothing's going to keep us apart now, love." He'd never thought himself one for such names, but he loves her in a way that makes the words easy on his lips.
"Now, what if you stop assaulting your clothes and join me for a walk?" he asks her teasingly, trailing his fingers down her back.
She looks up at him with a faint smile, and raises herself on her toes to press her lips to his.
"What if I don't feel much like walking?" she ask him, raising an eyebrow.
"Come," he nods towards the doors, "the air will help clear our minds."
"What if I have a much better way to clear our minds?" She smiles mischievously, and grabbing his hand, guides it down her body just so. He gets an idea of what she would rather be doing instead rather quickly.
Needless to say, their hosts don't hear much from them until their carriage takes them away the following morning.