AN: Okay, I need your help! I need to re-title my story, because I was just browsing through the stories of one of my favourite fanfic authors, Lina Oso, and found that she has one called "For The Love Of A Prince"! I have it on my favourites list even, lol! I can't believe I titled mine so similar without remembering hers. So I want to change the title, maybe just a little, or maybe completely. I just can't think of a new one! Help?!

Longer chapter this time, but it's a pivotal moment in their story! :)

Chapter 8

"Who does he think he is?!" Catherine seethed as she stalked angrily down the corridor.

"He thinks he's the Dauphin of France." Richard had meant to help, but as soon as he had formed the words, he knew it had been a mistake.

She reeled round to face him, stopping in her tracks, too angry to be rational right now.

"Oh, you're a great help! Go back to your friend and stop patronising me!"

"Catherine – Catherine, I didn't mean - " he started after her.

"NO! I have had enough tonight!"

Richard caught her wrist before she was out of his reach at her chamber doors. She snatched it back, her eyes flashing at him angrily, daring him to have the audacity to detain her any longer. He faltered, suddenly struck almost dumb by her beauty in her fiery state.

"Please, I'm sorry. Henry's being an idiot, and Dauphin or not, he should not be treating you so disrespectfully. Forgive me."

Catherine's countenance softened slightly, but her stance remained defensive. She didn't make to leave, and for that Richard was grateful. He struck a more light-hearted tone, hoping to ease his way back into her good grace.

"Come, how can I make you feel better? Wine? Snakes in Henry's bed? Hmmm?"

She giggled a little, eyes still trying to maintain their disapproval, but failing to disguise their amused twinkle. Richard ventured another suggestion.

"How about we look through your odd book of potions and concoct a hair tonic that causes balding?" A snort of laughter rewarded that one. "Or would you like to take up the less risky challenge of attempting to beat me at a game of chess?"

Catherine's eyes twinkled at him, her mood considerably improved, and she nodded, reaching to open the door to her chambers.

"I will take that challenge, but be prepared for defeat. And yes, definitely wine."

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

"Check!" Richard watched to see what she would do.

"You know, I did foresee that move." Her slender fingers moved to counter Richard's rook, as her lips twitched in a mischievous smile. She sipped at her wine, watching him over the rim of her glass, waiting for him to make his move, and then she moved in for the kill.

"Checkmate." Smiling triumphantly, she sat back against the plush back of the chaise, pleased with herself.

"Ah. Well I certainly didn't foresee that move!" Richard was always gracious in defeat. Looking up at her, he wondered what he had said wrong. Catherine was staring off into the distance, an unhappy look on her face.

"What is it?"

She sighed. "I didn't foresee Henry's move either," she said sadly. "I had no idea it would be like this."

Richard rounded the little table and came to sit beside Catherine on the chaise.

"Hush, Catherine… don't think about him any more tonight. It will only upset you." In the awkward silence that followed, he added lightly, "And after I've worked so hard to ensure you a happy victory as well!"

He laughed softly, but Catherine did not join in. She seemed not to hear him, and instead turned to face him and leaned forward intently, her eyes searching his out urgently.

"Tell me, Richard, am I deluding myself? Have I done so wrong in pressing him about having a child? What would you do?! I mean, I am trying to save myself – what will become of me if I don't provide the future King of France with an heir?!"

"I don't think you've done wrong at all."

"Henry says I'm obsessed to the point of insanity over it. I can't understand his pig-headed stubbornness and ignorance! Isn't it obvious that it's a necessity? And something that could become a life-or-death situation for me?!"

Richard nodded, listening. Catherine was becoming more agitated, he could tell by the way she sat so tensely and twisted her fingers together as she talked. It made him ache, but he listened.

"He last came to my chambers three weeks ago, and I'm not pregnant." She looked down at her hands, sadly. "I don't know what to do."

Richard was so moved by her countenance that he impulsively picked up her hands in his own. He didn't know what to say, but he was desperate to make her feel better about her situation. He hated that she was beginning to regard her precious self with displeasure, as though she was failing in some way.

"There's a man in a village a few hours ride from here, who is very knowledgeable in… natural ways to help a woman conceive." Catherine's voice faltered. "I – I've done everything that the court physician suggested, but…"

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Catherine. Not for anything."

She looked up at him, unshed tears in her eyes.

"It's not your fault – for all we know, it could be Henry's, and nothing to do with you! And you are not to blame for the heartless way he's treated you. Bringing Diane back to court… and the way he acted with her tonight. I don't know what got into him. He should have been more patient with you. He should never have put you aside, it was wrong of him." He squeezed her hands gently. "You are NOT to blame."

Catherine sighed, tears spilling over and down her cheeks. She took a shaky breath in.

"It's just that… it's harder because – because I love him." The tears fell faster. "If I didn't love him, it wouldn't be nearly so hard to bear being put aside and shunned for another." She gave a sob. "But I do."

Richard did his best to comfort her, hardly able to stand her unhappiness. Put him on the rack in the dungeon, but he could not bear to see Catherine de Medici cry. He threw caution to the wind, and put his arms around her, pulling her in close to lean against him. She came willingly, too overtaken by emotion to consider anything other than being comforted at that moment. She lay her forehead against the pulse of his neck, her cheek against the textured fabric of his shirt, and wept, her tears wetting his clothing. Richard's heart pounded as he held her – he worried that she would certainly hear it and be alarmed, but she didn't appear to notice. She felt so right in his arms, such a perfect fit. Everything about her was perfect. The softness of her hair against his skin, and the way it smelled. Her small hands laid against his chest. Her eyes and her lips and her sweet little nose, and the way they lifted when she laughed – even the way they looked when she cried. He felt bad about enjoying being so close to her when she was so distraught.

He held her even after her sobs subsided and she took her hands from his chest to wipe her face. He would have held her forever if she'd let him. After a time, she sat up straighter, pulling back from Richard a little.

"I'm sorry, Richard."

"What on earth for?!"

"For having such a moment of weakness, and for taking advantage of your kindness like this. It must be the wine." She would not look at him.

"Cath-erine," his tone told her how foolish he thought her concern was. "That's what friends are for. Don't be silly. What is a little moment of weakness between friends when you are the strongest woman in French Court?"

Catherine looked up at him suddenly, surprised at this remark.

"Strong?!" she almost laughed out loud. "Tough, maybe. You have to be tough to survive at French Court, it seems." She shook her head. "No-one must see through your tough exterior, and there are far too many chinks in mine."

Richard waited quietly. He was well aware that this was a great privilege – to be considered trustworthy of such intimate revelation by a woman who kept her armour up at all times. Listening to Catherine was something he treasured, for the true gift that it was.

"Richard, you have no idea. Nobody does. I am not strong, not really… I have to keep telling myself who I am and what I deserve, because I am the only one who will build myself up, and give myself confidence. But it becomes a struggle when I receive the opposite message from everybody else here. I know the rumours about me, I know I am not well liked." She sighed, pausing for a moment. "I can ignore most of French court – I like them as little as they like me. But people who matter to me… people I love… Apparently there is nobody who values me."

"I value you." Richard picked up her hand and gave it a little squeeze. She smiled, her dimple showing sweetly, although her unhappiness was evident.

"I know you do. You have been very sweet to me, and I'm grateful for a friend in this place."

Richard took a deep breath, nervous of what he might say next, such was the surge of love for her that swelled up inside him at that moment.

"At the risk of incurring Henry's wrath… Please – please, come to me every time Henry leaves you feeling this way. You need someone who values you, to counter other people's destructive influence. I don't want that to crush you…. You – you are too special."

He looked down, afraid he had said too much. Catherine looked at him for what felt like an eternity, as though she was thinking, and he didn't dare to meet her eyes. Finally she spoke, softly, and with uncertainty.

"You don't think I am unlovable?"

Richard tried to place his words carefully, "No. I don't."

"Henry makes me feel as though I am." It sounded more like a question than a statement.

"He's wrong. He's a blind fool." Now he'd done it, he was sure of it. There was a long pause. He could hear Catherine breathing, but he still didn't dare to look at her. He tried to rectify his overstep.

"I think perhaps Henry has lost sight of what's important, that's all."

"How so?" The air in the room seemed too close to breathe properly.

"Just that – well, if – if he can't see wh-what he's got…" Richard swallowed and tried again, "If a man has the – the most beautiful flower in the garden, and he – he can't even see it. If he is blind to it, and chooses a weed over in the grass instead - " He turned uncertain eyes up to look at her, afraid of what he might see.

She seemed paler than before, but her eyes shone gratitude.

"You think that?"

"I do."

"You think Henry has made a mistake? That he might love me after all?"

Richard exhaled the last of his resolve. It was too much effort to keep it in any longer, after all these years.

"I can't speak for Henry, or his feelings. I can only tell you that I can't imagine any man in his right mind who doesn't love you. He must have made a mistake – that's the only way I can explain it. What kind of fool shuns Catherine de Medici?!" All the frustration and anger that he had been forced to keep under the surface for so long, bubbled up fiercely. "I love Henry like a brother, but the man's a damn fool! He's been handed the whole world, and he's just TOSSED it away! What the hell is he thinking? I can't stand what he's doing to you – I hate it, Catherine. If he loved you like I - "

Richard broke off suddenly, realising what he had said. He looked warily at Catherine. She looked astonished – lost for words. When she found them again, they were barely more than a whisper.

"You love me?"

He turned to her, urgently. Now there was nothing left to lose, except for perhaps his head, but his heart ruled him now, not his head.

"I'm so sorry! It was never my intention, but you stole my heart," he gave a short laugh at himself. "It's all your fault. If you weren't so beautiful that evening that Henry introduced you to French court, or such captivating company… I had no choice in the matter. I fell in love with you instantly, and you've had my heart ever since. You are - " He sighed, temporarily lost for words. "You are everything to me. You're all I could ever want, and yet I can't – I could never… But yes, I do. I love you, Catherine de Medici."

"And all this time – all these years, befriending me…"

"I never sought anything from you, Catherine, not ever. Please believe me! I wanted to be a friend to you because I loved you, because I couldn't bear to see you hurt, and at least if I was a friend to you, I could do something to help in some way, to ease your pain. I had no other motives, I swear to you. I intended that no soul should ever find out – do you think I want to lose my head?!" Richard ran his fingers through his hair with agitation. "I will never act on it, I promise you. You don't have to worry about me making advances towards you! I love you too much to act on it, when it could compromise you in any way. I will always be your friend, and you can trust me to put your wellbeing ahead of anything and everything. That's how love should be."

Summoning the courage to look Catherine in the eye, Richard turned to face her on the chaise, and in an instant her hand was on his cheek. Her sudden movement caught him so by surprise that he held his breath. What was she doing?! He searched her eyes, which were searching his own. Time stood still. She was so close – he had never been that close to someone before, not like this. He could feel her breath on his chin, see the smallest details of her eyelashes.

Then, without warning, she leaned in and kissed him. Soft and sweet. Richard didn't know if he was breathing or not, but he felt like he had enough oxygen never to need air again. His lips felt like they were home against hers, as though their connection was meant to be. The kiss was gentle but lingering, and when she pulled away, he tried to force his mind to wade through the mix of confusion and bliss, and understand what just happened. Thankfully, before he was anywhere near able to formulate words, Catherine spoke.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" She put both hands to her mouth, and averted her eyes from him. "I can't believe I did that. I'm so sorry. I don't know why…" and she turned her face away in shame.

"I'm not sorry," offered Richard. He wished his voice hadn't sounded so high-pitched and hopeful, because he truly didn't hope for anything from Catherine – he was mostly just feeling confused. She turned to face him again.

"I didn't mean that. I'm not sorry either. I think – I think I just suddenly… You know, it's that I trust you so. Your kindness, your very heart engenders such a feeling of trust, and that's a wonderful thing." She smiled, and then continued, "I don't know what I was thinking. I just wondered what it would feel like to kiss someone who truly loved me unconditionally, with all their heart. It was stupid of me, forgive me."

"Of course." Richard smiled encouragingly back at her, hoping that there would be no detrimental effect on their friendship, as he couldn't bear to have to distance himself from her now.

"I hope there will be no awkwardness? I do so value our friendship…"

Richard tried not to show how relieved he felt hearing this, as he spoke. "Absolutely not! It will be business as usual tomorrow!" He grinned at her. "I hope that it has simply served to help you feel you have someone truly on your side, always." He placed his hand on hers. "I really mean that."

"Thank you. I can't tell you what it means to me." Catherine looked down at their hands. "And I- I do apologise once again - "

"Catherine, it really isn't necessary. Say no more about it." He patted her hand, and stood. "Would you mind very much if I retired to my chambers? I can stay longer if you wish, but tomorrow a group of us are leaving particularly early for a ride. I have no idea why I agreed to such a ridiculous hour!"

"You're sure there are no bad feelings?" she looked worried.

"None at all."

"Then alright. Take care not to fall off your horse half-asleep in the morning!" How he loved her cheeky giggle. The light-hearted moment broke the ice and made everything feel better, as though the revelation and the kiss had never happened. Perhaps everything would stay as it always had been.