"Would you like to explain why you felt it necessary to parade Lola and your bastard in front of me?" Mary asked Francis, wasting no time in questioning him as soon as he had shut the door.
Amazingly, he seemed shocked by her outburst. "Are you so uncaring? Forgive me for assuming you might be wondering how your friend was doing - you know, the one who just gave birth without a midwife in the middle of nowhere?"
Mary sighed. She did care about Lola, of course. That didn't mean it didn't hurt to see evidence of Lola and Francis's relationship in front of her. "So, you may as well tell me - boy or girl?"
Francis stared at her a moment, likely trying to decipher if her question was some sort of test. "It is a boy. We have named him Nicolas… Nico for short."
Mary swallowed a lump that was forming in her throat, begging herself to not appear weak in front of him. "Very well, then. I am glad everyone is healthy. I'm afraid we have the opposite scenario here… I have been dealing with quite the crisis since you've been gone."
Francis nodded, stepping forward to embrace her. Although she was angry with him, she also couldn't help how relieved she felt that he had returned. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, burrowed her face into his chest and let out a deep sigh.
"Mary, I know I have put you through hell. I understand what it must be like to see me with Lola and the baby. But you must know that you are the only woman in my heart. What happened with Lola was a mistake, and while she will always be the mother of my child, she will never be my wife and my queen."
His words were comforting. She knew she would always be weary of Lola, but she also knew she needed Francis by her side right now. There were more important matters to deal with.
She pulled back and kissed him deeply, to let him know she understood. It felt so good to be held again - after the terror she had witnessed over these past few days. She had followed Nostradamus's recommendation to stay in her chambers. Only one maid was allowed to enter, to bring food that only she had prepared. Mary heard little of her friends and only received brief reports from Nostradamus on how the castle population was faring. They had lost 10 lives so far, with Lord Arran being the most noble of them all. She felt she was going mad in her room by herself, but the dangers of continued infection still lingered.
She felt him start to pull away, but she quickly stopped him, deepening their kiss and running her hands down his back. She was surprised at her actions but knew that she craved his touch. She needed to feel him want her, to help her shut out any dark thoughts about the plague that threatened them.
To her dismay, he pulled away again. "Mary, as much as I'm enjoying this, I need to call a council meeting to discuss next steps for fighting this pestilence… please.." he said, unwrapping her arms from his body and stepping back.
She felt crushed and utterly rejected. Of course she understood his urgency, but could the council really not wait a bit longer? He had already been gone for days already, thanks to his own actions.
But she decided it was best not to argue, knowing that there was little point in doing so. Instead she nodded. "I'll join you shortly, then… I'd like to make myself presentable first."
Mary knew she hid her anger well and she waited until Francis had left to down a goblet of wine. She had been drinking quite a bit since the plague had come, unsure of what else to do in her room on her own while her husband was off elsewhere. After allowing the alcohol to course through her system, she decided on a different plan of action. Why should she sit in on a council meeting with Francis, when she had been running the realm on her own in his absence? It was his turn to deal with the chaos.
Instead of making herself presentable, she poured herself another glass and walked out the door.
Bash was running out of ways to find entertainment for himself and Kenna. After being cooped up for days, they had already played every card game they both knew and they soon grew tired of the activity. They had grown tired of each other, too, Bash would argue. He had made love to her countless times, partly fueled by desire but also fueled by his own fear that people were dying around them, yet they were still alive.
It had now gotten to the point where neither of them was that interested in the other. Bash was finding it to be too much effort to even think of any stories to tell to fill the time.
While Kenna lay napping in their bed, Bash retreated to the window, contemplating sneaking outside for a few moments to clear his mind. The first thing he noticed was that it had started to drizzle, and he almost decided to abandon the idea of going outdoors until he saw a figure moving through the hedges and out to the field beyond.
It was a woman, looking somewhat in distress. As she reached the clearing, she held her arms out to the side and began spinning around. It was only once she turned her face up to the sky that Bash realized it was Mary.
What was she doing outside? No doubt she had a similar thought to Bash about getting out for a few moments, though arguably Mary was in a more delicate position than Bash and should take more care. He hadn't seen her at all since the night Lord Arran had taken ill. He knew he had almost taken things too far that night. And she had stopped him, right enough.
He could have ignored her, let her have her peace outside without being disturbed by him. But he couldn't help himself. Telling himself he was concerned for her health, he slipped on his boots and quietly left the room, careful to not wake his sleeping wife.
The rain had started to intensify as he stepped outside. With the halls being deserted, it had been easy to get out without anyone noticing. But he wasn't entirely sure that no one else was looking out their window to see their queen dancing in the rain. It didn't exactly paint the best picture.
"Mary!" he yelled, running up to her. She turned immediately to face him, and he saw that she was also carrying an empty wine goblet. Ah, so that helps explain some of it, he thought to himself. She was also wearing a plain grey gown, with a lack of embellishment that was unusual for her. But she looked beautiful nonetheless.
Her eyes went wide when she saw him, and for a moment he wondered if the water running down her face was rain or tears. Either way, her expression was clearly one of distress.
"Come inside, Mary, you'll only increase your chance of catching the plague by standing out here in the rain."
"Why does he not want me?"
Bash hesitated. So it was problems with Francis that had driven her outdoors. He wondered at how Francis could stay away for so long. While he understood Lola's difficult situation, he also felt Francis was failing in his duty as King… and as a husband.
Bash reached out and took Mary's hand, which by this time felt freezing. "Mary, you know he had to go to Lola. It doesn't mean he doesn't want you. You know he'll be back as soon as he's able… you're his queen…"
Before he could continue, Mary cut him off. "He IS back! He's back but barely has time to say hello to me. I figured when your wife throws herself at you, you respond accordingly! You don't think about the council meeting!"
Bash was thoroughly confused at this point, but as the rain continued to pour down, he decided his first priority should be getting them indoors. "Come, let's find somewhere to sit inside and then we can talk."
She nodded this time and followed him to a side entrance to the castle. He knew this particular door led to a set of rooms that were not often used, and he just hoped he'd be able to build a fire in one of them so they would be comfortable enough.
"Where are we going?" Mary asked as she followed Bash down the corridor, sniffling from the chill she must finally be starting to feel.
"I used to come here as a child. Francis and I would play hide and seek around these rooms. They're never used as they're slightly more dingey than the chambers at the other end of the castle. But they all have fireplaces and usually some wood stocked nearby."
They entered one of the rooms at the far end of the hall, and Mary commented in amazement that she had never been in any of these rooms before. Sure enough, it had a full bed, which looked like it was covered in a layer of dust, several settes and a large fireplace, fortunately with a stack of wood next to it. It was not nearly as grand as the chambers their guests slept in, but it had all the necessities.
Bash immediately went to start a fire as Mary went to test out one of the settes. "Why don't you grab one of those blankets off the bed? I'm afraid you're going to catch some kind of chill and this is not the time for your body to be weakened in any way."
"They are so dirty, though! I am fine, really," Mary insisted, though he saw she was using all her strength to keep her teeth from chattering.
As soon as he got the fire started, he took matters into his own hands and grabbed a blanket off of the bed, shaking it out thoroughly to remove as much dust as possible before placing it around Mary's shoulders. She didn't protest, but looked up sheepishly and nodded her thanks as she wrapped the blanket securely around herself.
"Now, back to the matter at hand. Francis is back, you say?"
Mary sighed and looked toward the fire. He could tell she was hesitant to discuss it, but he would pry harder if he had to. Francis had clearly done something to upset her.
She looked up at him now with a hard expression on her face. "Yes, he arrived back not more than an hour ago. With Lola, and their new son, which Francis made sure to show me."
Bash shook his head. Sometimes he didn't understand how his brother's mind worked.
"But that's not the worst of it. I…. I wanted comfort from him. I have been alone for these past few days, terrified and unsure of where my husband was. Then he comes back and he's just…" she trailed off, looking away from him once more.
"It's okay, you can tell me, Mary," he said, now taking her hand in his. He could sense her unease and wanted to make her feel as comfortable and safe as possible.
"He didn't want me. Meeting with his council was more important," she said, taking her hand from his and suddenly standing up to pace the room. "I mean, does Kenna ever throw herself at you?" she asked brazenly.
Bash was a bit taken aback by her question. "Uhh.. well... "
Mary shook her head and interjected before he could come up with a suitable answer. "Don't answer that! My point is, would you really ever refuse your wife after not seeing her for days in the middle of a plague outbreak?"
God, she looked gorgeous. No, he could not understand how Francis could refuse her, under any circumstances. Maybe he didn't fully understand the responsibilities of a king, but he would put off any meeting to be close to this woman.
Bash stood up then as well, but maintained his distance from her. "I can't understand why any man would refuse you, ever."
He knew it was a bold thing to say. Perhaps he should have tried to convince her that Francis had his reasons, and that none of it had to do with her, that his mind must have been weighed down by the crisis at the court. He could have said that and it would have sounded reasonable. But he was too angry to be rationale.
Mary laughed in response as she moved to circle him. "And what have you and Kenna been doing to occupy the time while held up in your chambers? Given how you sometimes act in the middle of the day during normal times I bet I can guess what you've been up to."
He was a bit stunned by this remark, unsure if she was trying to insult him or not. "Well, we are married, your majesty."
He knew throwing in the formal address would throw her off, and it did. She looked away and cleared her throat, obviously unsure of what to say next. He knew she didn't really want to talk about his love life with Kenna, so what was she getting at?
She moved toward him now, and he almost instinctively took a step back, suddenly afraid of what she might do. She stopped mere inches from him, her head coming to his chin, but she didn't look up.
"You were right, Bash," she whispered, still averting her gaze, but raising her head just enough so that her whispered breath fell on his neck. "You should have taken me when you had the chance."