CHAPTER III - MARY
Mary settled near the window of her chambers and overlooked the people of French court pile into the courtyard waiting for Catherine's younger children when the door behind her creaked open. A smile crept up to her as she turned around and saw her husband.
Francis had, in his hands, the handle of a sizable wicker basket. She asked, stepping towards him and tip-toeing to close the distance between them. When they broke apart, she gazed at him and looked him in the eye. "Did anyone see you?"
Her husband burst out laughing and shook his head. "No, I'm afraid we've got the castle to ourselves, love. The entire court is too excited at the prospects of new and young, naïve royals." He remarked with a sigh. "The halls are empty. We could masquerade without clothes and we would not be noticed."
"Let's not scandalize the castle, just yet, Francis." A thought occurred to Mary and she suppressed her giddy laughter—they have scandalized the castle all too well in the past.
Mary rolled her eyes. "Now, what have you got with you?" Francis grinned and showed off the contents.
"We've got some bread and cheeses, a nice bottle of clairet wine from Bordeaux, and plump oranges freshly picked from Nice to sustain us during our wait for my siblings." Her husband smiled at her mischievously and swooped down, attempting to steal a kiss from her but she held her finger up and wagged it.
Mary raised her brows curiously, fighting a smile off her lips. "If waiting is the objective, shouldn't we be down at the courtyard with the rest of the court for your siblings to arrive?" Mary tilted her head to a side and pressed softly on her husband's palm.
Francis shrugged and opened the bottle of wine, pouring a glass from them to share. "Well, I thought that it's a better idea to be more productive while we wait for them." Mary gently reached for the goblet and raised it to her lips, sipping wine for herself.
"Wouldn't you rather be down there and see them? After all, it's been more than two years since you last saw them. And you've read their letters. They seem so excited to see you, Francis." She tried to insist but her husband had none of it.
Francis kissed her once more and she felt herself melt to his touch. "Oh, just so you know, I am not the one at fault. I wanted to be there just as much as those nobles down there, but you had to be so beautiful." She felt his fingers cup her chin as he held his gaze firmly on her. "How could I resist my wife, looking so beautiful, and wait outside when we could be doing a little something more under the sheets of our bed?" Mary felt herself laugh and her husband gave her the biggest smile. "And don't you dare say that you didn't enjoy it!"
Mary stepped even closer to Francis as she felt his arms snake around her waist, carrying her from the window to the four-poster bed. "I suppose we can go on like this until a few more hours before the council reconvenes." She sighs dramatically, mocking reluctance but an amused smile fought its way to her lips.
Francis leaned down and buried his head in the crook of her neck, his light stubble tickling her as it grazed her skin. "Don't worry, I'm sure that once my siblings receive word of our reason, they wouldn't be too upset."
Mary balked away and gave her husband a challenging look. "And what's that?" she asked, her voice with a playful edge, daring her husband to come up with a witty answer.
Francis threw the covers over their heads and smiled as he recaptured her lips. "Well, we can tell them and be very truthful—which is more than I can say for the schemes of French court—that we've been vigorous in our attempts to arrange for their new playmate!"
Mary and Francis ended up spending almost their entire afternoon within the confines of their chambers, only having to leave it after the children had arrived at court and when the English ambassador had requested for a meeting with the privy council.
While waiting for the nobles to gather inside the council room, Mary stood near the throne room and chatted near Greer's side as they watched some of the servants take down the banners with the arms of the English lion that Francis' father, Henry, had forcibly added unto her coat of arms. "Well," she smiled as the new banners were put up, "I quite like the new banners."
Greer smiled as well, waving her hand as a boy took away the banner. "Who needs the English lion anyways?" Mary couldn't help but chuckle in agreement, feeling a great deal of weight off her shoulder as the new arms hung by the walls. It was a refreshing sight to see that her cousin no longer had a motive to hunt out for her blood.
It was, after all, due only to her father-in-law's madness and desire for the half of Europe that she was plunged into a dangerous campaign that could lead to her execution on a chopping block. But she wasn't Henry, she didn't desire the power the English throne held, not after she's realized the dangers that lead good and brave soldiers to their deaths. Mary's seen the blood and she couldn't remove it from her conscience.
She would be damned, however, if she is to continue to tolerate the whims of a king who is already dead.
"We already have the religious divide in Scotland to worry about, after all. Let Elizabeth and the rest of the English Tudors deal with their problems, and I my own." A hopeful smile fixed itself to her face and she felt achieved and fulfilled. "I hope that, with the Treaty of Edinburgh and forfeiting my claim to the English throne, Elizabeth and I could move forward in peace and become the architects of a harmony between our two nations, ending this silly blood feud."
Greer bowed her head and grabbed a glass of wine from a passing servant. "Hear, hear!" Mary laughed as her friend raised her goblet up in the air. "I'd drink to that." Mary's raised her brows questioningly.
"Are you quite sure about that? The festivities haven't even begun and you're here drinking already." She teased, grabbing a goblet of wine herself, raising it up to her lips only to find that she didn't quite want to drink.
Greer rolled her eyes playfully and downed the wine. "Oh, please, Mary. Don't be a spoilsport."
A deeper voice resonated behind them. "Yes, Mary. Let's not stand in the way of happy celebrations." Mary turned around her was greeted by Francis cupping her face and leaning down to kiss her. She breathed him in and tilted her head upwards, letting him deepen the kiss. Around them, people bowed their heads in respect but she couldn't care less. To her, he wasn't the king of anything. He was just her Francis.
Her Francis, she thought to herself and smiled against his lips. She liked the sound of that.
Mary stepped back and broke the kiss, siding to stand with Greer as Francis smiled at their direction. "Greer," he gave a warm smile before Francis took her hand into his own. "As much as I'd hate to break your conversation, I'm afraid I have to steal my wife away. Duty calls, apparently." Francis mocked regret and wistfulness if only for his attempts to woo her away.
But Greer was no help at all. "Oh, I'm quite well aware that duty calls. It's just that I'm not quite sure as to where it applies—political to the nobles or marital to your chambers?" Mary felt her cheeks flush to a bright red and Francis laughed loudly, giving her an proud smile.
"Now, if my wife shared that same outlook. . ." he trailed off, not finishing the sentence, but left no mistake with the way he looked at her. Greer just laughed, knowing well that Francis isn't one to keep away from his wife. "But I'm afraid the council has reconvened at the request of Lord Nicholas. Apparently, there's an issue he wanted to discuss with us and the rest of the nobles."
Mary turned to face her friend who, in turn, bowed and curtsied to her and Francis. "Well, I'm afraid I have to go, so steal away, Francis. The ladies back in the village might need me and I have to oversee the pub." Mary surged forward to take her friend into a warm embrace. "I won't keep you two apart. God knows how sleepy your husband gets during the meetings with his council. You, my friend, might just be the only reason as to why anything gets done here in France." Mary laughed in amusement.
Francis feigned a hurt look. "Well, not entirely," he said but not without true merit, the smile creeping to his lips said otherwise of his good nature. "I'll send for a carriage to meet you outside to bring you to your establishment." Greer opened her mouth to protest but she and Francis had none of it. "I won't take no for an answer," Mary felt him glance at her. "And I doubt that your queen would disagree with me."
Greer shot her a look and she just smiled in return. "Go on, Greer. Take the carriage or we'll risk the whole evening as Francis debates you on the matter." Greer finally caved in a left the throne room. Mary then leaned in on Francis' side, taking his arms and resting her head on his shoulder.
"You know, I'd like to have her back here in court as my lady-in-waiting." Mary took one of Francis' hands and pressed a chaste kiss on the back of it. "I was thinking of granting some lands and titles to her as a reward for her services to me and the Crown. Would that be fine with you?" she looked up as they began walking away to the council room, taking their time to stroll by the halls of the castle.
He smiled at her in return. "It's fine by me. After all, she's helped us with so much. Sometimes, I feel like just raising her station is the least we can do for everything she's done for us, for you." Francis tilted his head to meet her gaze. "After all, she's family. We have to help each other out, do we not?"
Mary pondered on his words and smiled. "I like that word. Family." Her gaze dropped down to her stomach, a queasy and uneasy feeling made itself known to her but she trudged on nonetheless. "Maybe one day we'll have one of our own." Francis nodded, stopping in front of two massive doors with guards posted outside of it. They reached the council room.
"No." Francis shook his head. "Not maybe. When. We will have our family, our darling children. Anne and James." Mary turned to look out a big window as they still stood in front of the door. It was the slope where she and Francis used to play as children all the time. "I have every faith that we will have our family. And we will be happy. I may not be Nostradamus, but I know it. One day but for now, I'm content with having you all to myself." He promised and she took his hand and gave it a firm squeeze.
Her eyes flickered towards the closed doors. "Ready to face the lions?"
Francis cleared his throat with a cough. "As long as I'm with you, Mary, I'm ready for anything." Mary looked at the guards and gave them a small nod before they moved to open the doors.
Francis held his hand out and they walked in, the nobles were already in their places. They all rose up to bow as they made their way to the end of the room and took their seats. "Your Majesties, thank you for this opportunity. I would like to address a letter I've received from London." The English ambassador held up a piece of parchment with neat and immaculate handwriting scripted across it.
Francis waved his hand and signaled for him to continue. "Go on. What does Elizabeth need to tell the French court?"
Lord Nicholas shook his head and flipped the letter to face him. Mary's brows furrowed in confusion and watched as the ambassador began to read notes from the letter. "This letter was not sent by my queen, rather her privy council tasking me to inform you all of an incident." The nobles' gaze fell on Lord Nicholas, who promptly placed the letter down. "Queen Elizabeth's most trusted adviser, Sir William Cecil, wrote to inform me that there is reason to believe that my queen has been poisoned."
Clamoring and gasps erupted from the room. Several lords pointed accusing fingers at Lord Nicholas, arguing reached a peak and noise was scattered everywhere. Mary looked over to Francis, her eyes boring into his with a single message in mind. Immediately, he held out his hand and rubbed soothing circles across her wrist.
"Silence! All of you! I will have order in my court!" Francis bellowed, causing the nobles to cease their bickering. "Now, Lord Nicholas. What is the purpose and intent of this message. Is this your country's way of accusing my wife, the Queen of Scotland and France, of poisoning Elizabeth? Thread lightly, ambassador, and remember that you are a guest of this court and will continue to be one if only by my grace." Mary looked over at Francis and sensed that his shoulders grew tense.
She grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss on the back of it. "Francis, relax." She soothed him, whispering in a hushed tone.
Lord Nicholas, from her perspective, looked unnerved. "Quite the contrary, Your Majesty." Mary could see that there were still some nobles who gave the English ambassador a look of distrust. "The attempt on my queen's life made her realize that immortality is not afforded to us, even those who are monarchs. My queen requested that I inform all of you that she wishes to name Mary, Queen of Scotland and France, her nominal heir."
Once again, the room erupted into madness, some of the nobles began to shout. It was all out of order and Mary felt her head ache as if she was in a loud, public market. "Gentlemen!" she raised her voice. "Why don't we let Lord Nicholas finish his address before we react, shall we? We are all civilized, aren't we?" she gave them all pointed looks. "I suggest we all start acting like it. Lord Nicholas, continue."
A flicker of gratitude flushed on Lord Nicholas' face as he glanced at her. "As I was saying, Queen Elizabeth fears that if she should fail to name her heir, an unsteady transition from the current monarch to the next might cause unrest and instability within our lands. She wishes to secure an heir to prevent the messy business of usurpers claiming the throne." Lord Nicholas huffed. "With certain conditions to guide by it, of course."
Francis gave him a wary look. "What kind of conditions?"
"While Queen Elizabeth is still alive, you may not claim the throne to England. Once you have a child, your place in the line of succession will be forfeited no matter the gender of the child as to England's abolishing and abandoning of the Salic law. This arrangement could finally end the hostilities between England and Scotland, both racially and religiously." Then, there was a deafening silence. "However, if my queen marries and bears a child, your claim will be pushed back as the child will be given precedence. In addition to that, should there be a claim on my queen's life and Her Majesty, the Queen of Scots, is seen and proven an accomplice, there shall be a high tribunal case with the English Parliament and Parliament de Paris presiding over the case with the Vatican's consent for a fair trial."
Mary froze and panicked, looking to Francis. She leaned in to his ear, her breath shuddering. "Oh, God." She breathed out, whispering low, her fingers trembling even as she balled her hand into a fist. But she was a queen. She couldn't show weakness. "There is already peace within our two countries, Lord Nicholas. Why should we risk this tranquility with the mere possibility of inheriting a throne that Scotland neither needs nor requires." Mary raised voice, speaking with clarity and resonance.
"I suggest that, with all due respect to the generous offer of the Queen Elizabeth, that my sister refuse this proposal." Mary looked over to her side and watched as her brother, Robert, address the council. Her heart warmed as he gave her a small and reassuring nod. Her brothers would not back England. "This is unnecessary. And what could Scotland possibly gain from the English lands? There is no reason to accept this. Let the British Isles rule on its own, let no monarch have that much power over their dominions."
Then, all of a sudden, a flash of red blurred the scene. It was her uncle, Charles, the Cardinal of Lorraine. He was one of the Vatican's overreaching hands trying to rule France in the favor of the Vatican. "Because this is God's will." Her uncle reasoned. "This extension of a rare possibility where England could reconcile with the Vatican and the true faith." Mary noticed the sneer on her uncle's face directed at the English ambassador. "I vote in favor of this arrangement. . .should France and Scotland continue to ask for the support of Rome, I beseech you, Your Majesties, to accept."
In haste, Francis stood up and pointed an accusing finger at the cardinal. "I will not have anyone bully the Queen of France in her own court!"
But the cardinal did not back down. "I suggest, respectfully so, Your Majesties, that you reconsider. Might you remember that the Pope's papal accounts are still handled by the banks of your mother's family, the Medici, King Francis." Her uncle turned to her. She took a deep breath and steeled her expression. "My dear niece, Queen Mary, you must understand the fragile state of your country against the Protestant rebels undermining your rule, usurpers that the Pope himself is fighting for your cause."
Mary reached for Francis' arm and lowered him down, tugging on his sleeves to get him to sit. "Francis, we cannot lose the Vatican's support. You know this."
His head swiftly turned to her direction. A panicked expression wielded his face. "Mary, this proposal could set you up for an execution. Even with an uprising made in your name, without your direct participation or knowledge, could bring you your death!" he shook his head and refused to meet her gaze. "I will not lose you, not when we've just managed to gain peace."
She chuckled under her breath and gave a practiced smile to her nobles as she kept the calm ruse up. "Then don't lose me, Francis. Don't make a decision just yet." She raised her face and cupped his cheeks. "Stall and buy time. We can still find more options, Francis, but don't threaten the peace between our three nations by making more enemies because of an unpopular decision."
Francis kept shaking his head and gripped the edge of the table, obviously conflicted.
"Francis," she began, facing the nobles, "I beg you to see reason. Compromise."
Beside her, he huffed and sighed. "This proposal, Queen Mary and I will take into serious consideration." Mary saw the nobles murmur among themselves, not quite aligned with Francis' decision but they couldn't truly bring themselves to argue with it. "We will require time for this and we will reconvene sometime in the near future to discuss this." Mary gave her husband's hand a gentle squeeze.
"Is there anything else my cousin would like to address before the council?" she turned to Lord Nicholas, who in turn produced a letter from his cloak and passed it to Lord Narcisse.
"My Queen would also like to raise this matter." Stephane took the letter and began reading it when his eyes widened and promptly threw the paper away.
"This is absurd! If France and England are allies, why is there a need for an exchange of prisoners?! We've released five of your generals already and yet your queen refuses to release my wife's family, instead asking for her to be sent to England?! This is sheer madness!"
But Lord Nicholas was composed still and shrugged in response. "This matter, I suppose, should be decided by your wife, then, Lord Chancellor. I suggest that we ask the Lady Lola Narcisse."