I hope you all enjoy this chapter. FYI, there is still much to this story yet to be said. Thank you for sticking with me and thank you for your reviews.
I do not own Reign.
"Mary!" Bash called about in worry, his movements as frantic as his body would allow upon first awakening. "Are you hurt?" He found her face with his hands, his vision still clouded. He couldn't be sure if this were real. His memories were fragmented. One minute he is thinking of how greatly he worries for her, his certainty that he loves her, and the next he is overcome with the realization that he is having trouble breathing. He felt and heard, rather than saw, Mary's intervention. Then, he was gone. But apparently she rescued him successfully.
Hearing his voice finally speak to her was wondrous. She had thought she had lost him several times throughout the day and night. Each moment was heart break. She knew too greatly now how very much she loved him. She had allowed herself the freedom to feel it all for those moments and now that he was alive for sure part of her felt like she was losing him all over again in having to rein it in.
"I was never in danger, Bash." Mary chokingly replied, so very overwhelmed with the knowledge that even though he was the one poisoned his worry rested on her wellbeing. "You, however, gave me quite the scare."
She began to wipe the hair from his eyes and he reveled in the sensation of her soft fingers upon his skin. Perhaps he should be injured more often if it meant she would touch him freely, with such care. "What happened?" Weary, he tried to keep his tones even but met with ill success.
"You were poisoned. I had an antidote and gave it to you." She paused, wondering just how much information he was capable of taking in at the moment. "We are unsure on the details of the plot against you. Once your breathing began to steady I called for a guard and we found your meal taster dead in his bunk. He had a vial next to him, but according to the first mate, who smelled the potion I gave you, his was likely tampered with."
She decided to neglect to include the most disturbing of all information she learned thus far. The vial containing the poison had been found near the food stores. It was one, unique in its construction, that she herself had given to Francis long ago. He was suspect and she knew full well that if it were truly he to plot against his own brother not only could she not marry him, she could never let Bash return to his native land and the alliance would fall.
She was glad for Bash's response, lest she be dragged further into those terrible thoughts.
"I thought you were an angel." He stated, before his mind could filter his thoughts. "I thought I was dead."
So close have many plots come to Mary and yet, she was never so near to death as this man she cared for so greatly. That knowledge, coupled with the potential motives that came to her mind for Francis attempting such a thing took hold of her heart with great pain. She was the cause of this all. "You did almost pass but I was quite insistent you not go." She paused, hoping some humor might cheer him. As greatly as guilt had surely come to claim her she knew her efforts were best served in caring for his spirit. "I am glad to see what an obedient subject you can be when it is in your best interest."
Despite how awful he felt and the need to keep his eyes closed as they stung terribly, a smirk rose to his lips. Even with the multitude of negative emotions emanating from her, she still could have such an attitude about her when she wished. "My cheekiness truly has infected you. I must admit I am proud of that fact."
"Yes," she adjusted herself on his bed, a bit closer so that she could comfortably hold his hand. His grasp steadily grew tighter and she was encouraged by the sign of health. "You would be proud of that, wouldn't you?"
"I am proud to have any effect on you whatsoever, your grace."
If only he knew in how so many ways he has come to affect her. "Are you quite comfortable? Shall I get you anything? Some water perhaps?"
Bash did feel an awful thirst and accepted the offer of water, which she gently gave to him by lifting the cup to his mouth and his head to reach it. "How is it I am so fortunate as to have a queen be my nurse?"
Mary looked back towards the door of the berth, aware guards stood outside. Just some fourty minutes or so prior she had very much the same discussion with Robert. He seemed awfully displeased and shaken with all of the incident but most especially in her refusal to leave Bash's side. It seemed at that moment Mary found no manner in which to hide how ardently she felt for the king's son. And honestly, she was glad for the moment. Otherwise she might be so overcome right now she wouldn't be stopped from revealing all to Bash now that he lay awake.
"I can be quite insistent, you know. Stubborn really. You are here in my service Bash and whatever the plot against you, I am sure I am the cause of it."
He knew she was trying to hide it, but the hurt in her voice came through. He did so hate to hear pain come to her in any form. The knowledge that she was so insistent, however, spoke to something deep within him. Perhaps she might have some feelings, something ardent in her manner that may compare to the love he was once sure was felt solely on his own. But he needn't ask now, weary as she was.
"What time is it?" He asked, finding a topic which should be safe.
"It is nearly midnight, almost a full day from my finding you." She recounted the event and it sent a shiver down her spine. She owed so very much to Clarissa for her warning and instruction. Whether or not she ever came back to French court she was sure she must find some way of thanking her. "We are anchored near shore, waiting until the morning to transport you when a doctor will come to see to your care. According to the emissary we sent ahead to speak with him, it was thought best to keep you in place until he could come in his carriage."
"I am sorry to delay your arrival." He opened his eyes and her image came clearer to him. She looked as if she had no rest since she found him. Even more so than before, the level of her care for him struck upon seeing the shadows behind her eyes. "Mary, when did you sleep last?" She was beautiful as ever, but she needed to be at her best for the morning. She would make her first introduction to the English court tomorrow and she needed to impress at first meeting if there were to be any hope of her accomplishing the many tasks at hand.
"Do not worry for me." She replied, aware he was about to start an argument. He always had the same tone when about to push her into doing something she didn't want to do if it was in the interest of her own welfare.
He knew what that reply meant, she slept not since she found him. It was so like her, caring and self-sacrificing. When would she ever learn to care for herself first? "Mary, you must rest."
She took an extra blanket from the foot of his bed and unfolded it onto him. "According to the doctor you are not to be left alone and seeing as how you were injured in my service I will stay with you. I know not who to trust on the ship."
He certainly was not about to complain of her company. Her holding his hand, taking care of him was all that kept him from feeling as though death were still certain in his position. And if she were willing to take guard over him, so be it. She was unlikely to hear of anything suggestion otherwise. "If you wanted to spend time with me you didn't have to wait for an excuse such as this."
She raised her eyebrows, glad to see his cheekiness return in full force. "Be grateful I stay at all. An accusation such as that might ruin a young queen."
He turned a sincere gaze her way. "I wouldn't ever let anything ruin you Mary. Reputation or otherwise." He breathed out, trying to maintain his composure. Only this woman has ever made him bare his heart so openly. "So, come rest. If you won't leave my side then the compromise between our positions is to rest beside it."
Mirth, as well as copious amounts of hesitation, grew within her. He offered her something she dearly wanted but knew how risky a proposition it were, even as innocent as it was sure to be with his current constitution. "I thought you just said you would never let anything ruin my reputation."
To be honest with herself there was a great temptation in both his offer as well as in marking herself as impure. Perhaps if she weren't so virtuous no royal would want her. Perhaps she would be freed from the prison that was her marital destiny. But she knew she was neither brave enough, or selfish enough to act so carelessly.
Bash understood her, aware any intended flippancy of her tone was lost to her quite valid concerns of propriety. "Perhaps I should save my nefarious plots for when I am more able to accomplish them." He teased and was glad to hear her giggle of a response. It must take a considerable amount of trust in him to not question his motives. "Will you stay then just until I fall asleep and go, please, to find yourself rest?"
Mary nodded her agreement and propped herself against his headboard, sitting closely beside him. "May I sing you a song the nuns used to console me?"
Bash smiled to her and rolled his head to the side in order to watch her lips form each word she sang. He didn't believe he would ever truly get over her loveliness, her free spirit. If he never came to bleed over her physically, as his mother once warned, then he was sure his heart would do so anyhow of its own accord.
His last thought before falling to the call of sleep was of how very much it was like his luck to have his heart belong to the one woman fully unreachable to him.
Mary quieted her tones as she heard his breath fall softer into sleep. She was so tired but could not leave him. Throughout the day she had a great deal of time, between reports of the dead guard and issuing the request for the doctor, to think on many matters.
Her mind was so burdened and without Bash she found it quite difficult to make sense of it all. She knew it before but it wasn't until now, without him, that she realized just how significantly she relied on his counsel.
Yawning, she looked to the man on her left. "You are so beautiful while you sleep." She murmured as she tucked the blankets on his side.
She knew her feelings ran deeper than she was likely to admit to herself now that he was on the mend. She couldn't allow it. Even if she decided against marrying Francis and therefore breaking the alliance with France, she wouldn't be able to take Bash as a consort. Would he even want her so permanently? She couldn't be sure. She did think he felt something, some passion for her. But to what extent was not for her to determine.
She lowered herself onto the pillow besides him, promising herself she would leave soon but needing just a stolen moment resting by his side. She could stay here. It felt like her home, the very same sense she had when wrapped in his arms in the carriage, the same sense she feels every time they dance. But home was supposed to be the one place you belong, not the place one could lose everything to reach. How dearly she wanted to cry…
"You must wake, your grace. Speedily will do." Thomas's voice roused her and she realized the light of day was cast upon her and Bash who lay by her side. "You fell asleep during your watch." Thomas supplied the explanation and she knew he did so purposely so as to keep suspicion from his voice.
Looking at him, his hand reaching to assist her exit from Bash's bed, she could see what she hoped was true loyalty. "I beg you're discretion." She stated, but it came out as a question too.
"In what?" Thomas replied. He would give his future queen no reason to doubt him. Besides, a guard was outside the door and the less that was stated, the better. "Certainly that chair has become quite uncomfortable by now, your grace." His voice rose to the level of being overheard with a pointed look to her, begging her understanding.
He needn't beg too hard. Mary was perfectly aware of how this looked, how it could affect her reputation. She was glad for any chance to change any assumption a guard could make on her extended visit, alone, in a man's chambers. "Indeed it has. I would thank you to be sure our carriage is well suited to comfort for the remainder of our journey."
Together, after one last look by Mary to Bash's now waking form, they left the berth and made their way towards her own. "Thomas, please hold a moment. I wish to discuss our meeting the English queen." She instructed and the guard posted at her door closed it, leaving the two to speak privately.
"Before your grace begins." Thomas approached her, his voice at a minimum. "You needn't worry. I assume no wrong and even if I did, I once told you that you may place your confidence in me."
She nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I thank you for that."
Here he bowed to her, grateful he was the one to find her in such a state. A guard would spread rumor. Robert was unlikely to watch his tongue, anger being so large a part of his character. Discretion was Thomas's own personal talent and it served him wisely in times such as these. Perhaps his future queen would be able to begin the process of trust as a result. "It is a duty, your grace. But your gratitude is well appreciated." He turned the tide of conversation upon hearing the crews yelling above. "We shall soon disembark."
"Good." She let out a soft breath. "This has been far too eventful of a journey for me to say I would miss it."
Thomas agreed with her fully. They set about their business and soon found themselves being transported towards shore, the doctor awaiting their arrival plainly seen. "Your grace may wish to ride in the doctor's carriage after he finishes his preliminary examination." Thomas offered once on shore, aware the young queen was still heavily reluctant to leave her counsel, her friend's side. "It shall provide the most comfort and perhaps he may be of assistance in determining some of the details we have thus far been unable to gather in the nature of the plot."
Mary wondered if they could really say much about their details. A bottle of poison, a bottle she and others knew to be owned by Francis was the weapon of choice. Other than that there appeared no evidence. She was sure all had come to the same conclusion. "Will you not speak of your suspicions openly?"
Robert came upon them and gave his respectful bow. "I will speak plainly of my suspicions, your grace." He turned to Thomas. "If I may."
"By all means." Thomas replied, wanting nothing to do with the issue of accusation sure to come from Robert.
She turned around to see the last of the boats arrive on land. A guard and a servant carried the stretcher containing Bash quickly to the doctor's carriage. She wondered how soon she would get to see him, if his condition were going to improve. The potion worked in saving his life but still so sickly he remained. She wanted nothing but to be at his side right now, but knew she had business to attend and would do so until the doctor's examination was complete.
Turning to his queen, once her attention came back unto him and not the distraction of her counsel meeting the doctor, the Scottish advisor eagerly shared his opinion. "As your grace is aware, the vial containing the poison was owned by the dauphin of France, your fiancé. There has been some rumor as of late that the prince suspects his half-brother of harboring a deep affection for you. It is believed the injury Sebastian sustained just prior to his removal from society for three days was at the hand of Francis for this very reason."
Mary wondered just how it seemed so many knew of this business when she only learned of it through her own suspicions and confirmation from Clarissa. Perhaps others needed only their own suspicions to come to conclusions, confirmation superfluous. "I will stop you now before you say something which you may later come to regret. While I do certainly wish to pursue the matter and take all you have said under consideration, we must have more information in hand before accusations may begin to arise, particularly among royals to which we are allied."
Robert appeared taken aback by her halt of his explanation but did come to understand as he reviewed his discussion with her in Bash's chambers. She cared for him too, and if word got out on such account her reputation, as Francis having a more solid reason to seek to rid of his brother, would be placed on the line as well. He hadn't considered this before. "Wise indeed, your grace. My apologies."
"None are necessary." She excused him. "If we are quite finished here I would ask to be left to the doctor's carriage."
Robert and Thomas both bowed to her and after Robert turned to leave, Thomas was quick to escort her to the carriage in question. "We haven't many resources for investigation, your grace, but know you are not alone in trying to discover the depth of the plot against your friend."
Mary was thankful to him, and expressed the sentiment. Investigating murder plots of a Frenchman was not one of Thomas's official responsibilities. Of course, neither was keeping the knowledge of her inappropriate night with Bash so close to chest either.
She climbed into her seat in the oddly shaped carriage. The back side lay flat with a seat supporting the stretcher leaving room for one person on each end perpendicular to Bash. Yet again, she found herself beside him and reached out her hand to soothe the lines that seemed to form on his young face. "Is he in pain?" She asked of the doctor sitting across from her as they took off.
"Some, your grace." The doctor was stricken by the level of care the young queen exhibited. He was given the impression, as was popular by many of the middle class, that she was a solitary figure but her attention and focus on her counsel spoke otherwise to him. "I have given him a tincture to assist in sleeping the way to Hunsdon. There he will be in the best of our care."
Mary withdrew her hands reluctantly from Bash and into her lap. She needn't give any more fuel to the fire of rumor she was sure burned brightly on Sebastian's supposed feelings for her. If even Robert, a man self admittedly quite inept in all manners of the heart, got word of such a thing then the spread of it could have reached as far as English court as well.
"Have you any idea what type of poison it were?" Limited her resources may be, she would ask assistance of anyone she could find knowledgeable enough to provide.
"Indeed, I do. Based upon the antidote given," One he would not ask as to how the queen came to have so handily. "I can say with certainly the antidote was of a French seashore plant." Here he paused when the queen's eyes fluttered closed, aware the current suspicion rest upon the dauphin of France. "However, I feel I must point out that the only effective poison this potion would combat is of Scottish origin."
Mary's eyes immediately flicked to the doctors. "Scottish? Are you sure?" If the poison were Scottish then perhaps it was not a French plot after all. Perhaps the French guard acted under the direction of some Scotsman wishing to see the end of the alliance with France now that she was to have the English crown and their support became unnecessary. In fact, severing the alliance with France would likely only strengthen her position in England.
"Indeed I am, your grace." He leaned forward, aware the Scottish queen was eager for more detail. "I cannot say with certainty if the conspirator of your plot be Scottish, but I can say he must have access by someone from the land. This poison," he held out the vial that had contained it, contemplating all he knew. "Has been wanted by many in this country but no Scotsman, compromised tradesman or otherwise will part with it. It is too dangerous. It could be used against you."
Mary shuddered at the thought. "Then we may assume the likelihood of Scottish involvement is high?"
"We may so assume." The doctor sighed out, hoping to not offend the queen as he began to nod off.
That confirmation gave Mary much to think on for the rest of the now silent journey. It could most certainly still be Francis. There were plenty of Scottish contacts that he came across on a daily basis. He could have gotten the poison from one of his spies, the spies which she pretends not to know of for the sake of the alliance. But it is that very alliance that is called into question by the plot.
It is unlike Francis to risk so much politically for a matter of the heart. And truly, while she is sure he may harbor some affection towards her she was thoroughly aware it was not so soul altering as to keep him from that responsibility of political awareness. No, he loved only Cicilia Orsini in that regard.
Could Francis's jealousy then lead him to kill his so greatly loved brother? There was conflict, she knew, on whatever affections she and Bash may have for one another. But she suspected the obstacle there was that Francis did not trust her heart to allow her to marry him when it belonged to another as it was no longer necessary for her to make the sacrifice. How true it were that she found herself in doubt on what do.
So then, the only true motivation she could see for Francis in being behind the plot was to ensure she take his hand and solidify their alliance, the most advantageous the France. There it was then. Either there was a Scotsman trying to frame Francis so that she would break off her engagement and therefore her alliance with France or Francis took the risk of her not suspecting him in the plot and was trying to solidify his claim on her hand. She had her doubts. She had her hopes.
What she needed was more help in her investigation.
"Your grace must cease her worry." The voice took her from her thoughts and once removed she realized the carriage had stopped and arrived just outside of the castle gate. "As beautiful as you might always be," here she realized it was Bash who has been speaking to her, the doctor having stepped outside to converse and direct the guards on his care. Of course, she would have known it to be Bash even without recognizing his voice. Only he would speak so openly of her beauty. "You must radiate all of your loveliness today."
Mary's lips drew skyward as she looked at him. He too wore a snarky smile and it encouraged her. "I suppose my worry for your wellbeing was misplaced. You seem perfectly yourself right now."
Bash would tease her daily if it always so proved useful in taking her mind off the pressing responsibly by which she was constantly restrained. "I should pretend to be sicker then, should I? Perhaps I would earn some marker of your favor."
The carriage began to move again into the entrance of the castle grounds, they remaining alone. She was aware that Bash would be removed soon and she to follow as she made her introductions. She couldn't be sure she would be able to steal much time with him here at court. Looking at him, so very much the man she wished she could give herself permission to love, she felt caution momentarily take its leave.
Leaning down over him she looked into his multifaceted eyes. "Or perhaps you could favor me." She cajoled him with her eyes, hoping he would understand her meaning. "I must repay my debt to you for your having been so injured in my name." She steadied her breath. "So then, you may ask of me one task."
He watched her eyes yet again rest upon his lips and he could not imagine this was real. Was she truly asking him, giving him the permission? "If your grace would come closer." He responded. If she complied, if she bent her head so as to give him the angle needed he would most certainly take any chance she gave him, be damned the consequences.
Her chest filled to capacity as she leaned closer to him, more so when his hand gently found its way into her hair. This was going to happen. Something she had wished for so long a time, it was coming true.
His fingers tangled into her locks, her hand rested upon his cheek, his thumb caressed the bottom of her lip. Their breaths intermingled and they could smell the spice of one another, she sweet and he cinnamon.
It was overwhelming.
The air seemed to stand still, a moment removed from time. "Mary." He breathed her name like a prayer but the return of his name was lost as his head rose to soon claim her ready lips.
The gentle knock upon the side of the carriage, a knock most likely issued in warning by Thomas, forced Mary to reluctantly pull away before contact could be made.
She looked upon the man that had stricken her so. Fragile in his recovering state and yet still so strong for her. She was tempted to take the risk of being seen and meet his lips to her own. But she knew better of it; that doing so could cost him his head in France, and she was concerned for his wellbeing above any care she could have of her own. "Bash, you must take care." The statement was uttered with the entirety of raw emotion still drudged up by their near kiss.
Bash sighed, resting his head back on the stretcher beneath him. To be sure he frustrated by the interruption but content in the knowledge of what he had seen in her eyes just before. She cared for him. She might even love him, as he loves so dearly loves her too.
She began her exit as the guards opened the door, hastily so that they might extract Bash for care and sure enough she saw Thomas, a soft and conspiratorial smile upon his face. However grateful she felt toward the Englishman her focus remained on the man for which she nearly decided to give up all she had ever known to be her life.
"Thank you, your grace." Bash spoke weakly, his breath still stolen by Mary as his stretcher emerged shortly after her.
She offered him her hand for one last fleeting point of contact before he would leave her sight and all the blessed moment would be over. "You will heal, and then you will come back to me." She added the next part for the benefit of those there. "I need you in my service."
Bash's heart was so light he was unsure if he would be able to not yell his joy at all things involving her. But he too knew his place. "I will." He assured her, the guards now taking him away. "Someday, Mary." He yelled back at her, his wits returning. "You will have to tell me of how you came across such an antidote to save me."
She watched his retreat and she too knew that was the truth.
"If I may lead your grace? Our greeting party awaits." Thomas held out his arm for the young queen, hoping to jar her from her obvious distraction and to the matter at hand. He wished only to bring her about to her position and leave behind her other thoughts. Whatever happened inside that carriage while he detained the doctor and had given the two several moments alone, he would pretend to not know. As was his duty, in service to the queen.
"Thank you, Thomas." She lined herself in preparation for her greeting, most of court plainly visible. "Truly." She hoped her look to him spoke the volumes she intended. That time with Bash was precious, as short lived as it were.
He left her so she may stand alone as Mary Tudor, Queen of England came into sight. How different this introduction seemed, so lonely compared to French court when she had her ladies by her side.
"Your grace." Mary Tudor greeted as she stepped towards her. "You may call me Mary."
"As you may the same." Mary replied. "It is a pleasure to meet you, at long last." She added for some benefit. Perhaps to not show all the trepidation she still held on the matter.
"There will be time tonight to make your introductions to the court. But as I am aware you have had a long journey I have arranged for ourselves to keep to one another's company alone for the day." In truth, the elder of the two queens wished to have the opportunity to assess the younger, to see if she should continue her support of the girl's succession to her crown. "Shall we?" She gestured ahead to the castle.
Mary accepted and soon found herself led to a chamber of fine furnishings, a fire well lit in place and wine waiting. "I thank you for your hospitality." Mary ventured and sat down, waiting for the servants to leave.
Once they, two queens of the same Christian name, found themselves alone, Mary looked to the woman whose seat she would one day take. She was hard and cold but looked just as flummoxed as she to find anything on which to converse so as to promote their friendship. What does one discuss with a dying woman whose place you yearn to take? Suddenly, an idea struck her. Perhaps if she asked for help on a matter close to her heart she could kill two birds with a single stone.
"I look forward to the moment in which we can call ourselves friends. I am aware that is not now. But I must ask something of you, as a matter of urgency."
The native queen's brow rose slightly, curious as to the bravery, or stupidity, which of the two remained to be unseen, of the young queen in asking a favor so soon. She was sure this matter was the impending uprising against her in Scotland. It would be a mighty favor to ask her immediate response, never mind the likely request she relinquish the control of her men to Scotland. She may be willing, but only after she could be sure that the young queen could properly oversee the effort.
As for this queen before her, she was none too impressed at the lack of diplomacy displayed by the girl as of yet. "This favor, out with it." She replied with little patience.
Mary steeled herself with a breath. This was not going well but she needed to push on. "I speak not of issues of my home country or even of your own." She offered this first, aware the other queen must have assumed that the English troops in Scotland was the matter on which she were to speak.
Well, that was certainly different from what the Tudor queen expected. Her voice softened, but only some. She was still wary of her, after all. "What is this concern then? What favor may I offer?"
"I believe you are aware that I was escorted by three counsels, the son of Henry being among them."
"Yes." Mary Tudor recalled information on that score. She was told the French king sent his bastard son for the position as a show of his commitment to the girl. She also knew some in both the English and French courts suspected an attraction, affection even, between the bastard and the queen. "He fell ill on your ship, I believe."
"No." Mary's reply came out direct, wishing to correct the assumption she preferred the lot of court to access. "He did not. He was poisoned. I ask that as I have no resources to do so myself that you conduct an investigation into the matter on my behalf." She paused to take another breath but found that her predecessor was quick with response.
"I am sure you can gather just how serious I take poisoning after my own experience. Say no more. The French king may rest easy in the knowledge that an investigation will be launched immediately and when the assailant is found he will be turned over to your authority if Scottish or face justice here otherwise."
Mary admitted to herself she was impressed that unlike Henry and Catherine keeping her countryman from her, the other Mary was respectful of her sovereignty even in her land. "I thank you."
A curiosity rose within the English queen. Perhaps this girl could someday truly rise to the challenges of rule. She seemed much more aware of diplomacy than fist impressed and she carried an air of authority in her manner. There was a simple test to see if her new suspicions would hold true. "And what punishment would you deal out? If he be of England or France? Or a Scotsman?"
"Execution. In all three cases. I consider the attempt on the life of my counsel an act of treason or aggression against myself. As such, that is the proper punishment, regardless if the man be of my people or not." Mary stood firm, her statement speaking for her seriousness on the matter.
Now, Mary Tudor thought to herself. This is a queen, young she may be. She was a woman determined to see justice, to lead her people, a girl commanding authority at so young an age and willing to make the hard decisions at that.
She may come to like her after all.
"Do you have any insight as to what we may expect the nature of this plot to be? I cannot conceive of a reason to harm the bast-" She reconsidered herself, aware the rumors spread both ways in terms of where affections may lay. "-French counsel." She finished with much greater finesse than most could accomplish. "Surely you have some lead."
Mary found relief enter her. The English queen seemed somewhat perhaps not impressed but most certainly not put out. She had at first little confidence in what an English investigation into the plot might hold when she requested the intervention but that fear was slowly subsiding. This matter was being taken seriously and it occurred to her that perhaps this was best.
Bash being harmed was dreadful and an experience she wishes to never repeat, but now she seems to have made some sort of connection with the other Mary that she may begin to build upon it politically in the days to come. At least some good could come of his suffering. "It is thought by some that this attempt on Sebastian's life was either the product of his brother, the dauphin's, supposed jealousy or that someone is attempting to make it look as such."
"My, you do bring a certain sense of intrigue to a court already so stimulating." The English Mary could barely contain her smile. While she had expected the queen would prove interesting she had not expected diversions such as this.
Indeed, she found herself with a much different opinion of the budding woman than she had expected to have with so little between them. She came to the conclusion that perhaps her successor truly knew what she was doing, turning a situation of personal loss into a gain for all. This business was clearly upsetting and yet, she kept her wits about her despite the multitude of matters on which the Scottish queen had to worry, both political and personal.
In such a short time she had already found Mary Stuart to be respectful, politically aware, caring and concerned as well as capable... Yes, this was a queen she found she really quite rather liked. Perhaps she would take it upon herself to ensure her introduction to court ran smoothly and assist her efforts in Scotland. She would certainly consider it after expending her efforts in discovering whether the French dauphin was truly responsible for the near death of his father's son.