Chapter 2
May 3, 1556
Dear Andrea,
Court is absolutely boring without you here. Father insists on my taking an active role in my title as Dauphin since I'm turning sixteen soon and mother couldn't be more thrilled. Honestly, talking with noblemen and foreign diplomats is as thrilling as it sounds.
Olivia left a week ago. She's gone off to marry a titled gentleman. A man that isn't me. I suspect that mother had something to do with it since she seems much too happy about the situation. She denies it, of course, preferring to play the sympathetic mother. I don't want sympathy though. Heartbreak is a feeling I've braced myself for. Being a Dauphin -an engaged one at that- means that my heart isn't free to do what it pleases. I wanted to marry Olivia. She wanted to marry me. I think that we both knew that those things were impossible. I should be happy that she's going to live a good life, with a man whom she is free to love. I should but I can't bring myself to feel anything but contempt and anger.
I miss you, Andrea. I don't know why you never had a chance to say goodbye before you left, but I forgive you. I could never stay angry at you for long. Is Venice as lovely as my mother makes it sound? Are you enjoying your lessons? Met any Italian gentlemen that trump us French, as you used to say? I hope you're happy. You deserve to be happy.
With Love,
Francis
~For Country and Blood~
May 30, 1556
Dear Francis,
Yes, I do believe that life in France is missing my particular flair. But don't worry, I'm sure you'll find another means to make each day spectacular again. Eventually, you'll be able to drown out their boring political drawl that they don't care about past their own vanity and fill it with something actually meaningful. I have faith in your abilities.
I'm sorry that your heart is broken. I know you cared for her. But you must know that life will be better for her now. She won't be the center of rumor and scandal anymore. And do be kind to your mother. All that she does, she does for you. She would even protect you from your own heart, which -I'm sorry to say- is what you need protection from the most. You can't view your engagement as the end of the world. You once told me that you and Mary, Queen of Scots, were friends once upon a time. Perhaps you could love her. Perhaps your marriage will be full of beauty and happiness.
I miss you too. Venice is beautiful and wonderful, but my heart aches knowing that I can't see you everyday. You are my best friend, after all. What good is causing mischief with the maids here if I don't have you to blame it on? As far as my lessons go, they are what I expected and more. The mistress here has an approach to everything that is both fascinating and new. I'm going to learn a lot here and I'm surprised to say I'm giddy for the opportunity. As far as Italian gentlemen, they are emotional and proud. At least Frenchmen have the good grace to be just a bit modest. Happiness is often overrated, Francis. I can't say that I want it as badly as I used to. But I hope that you have it as well.
How is Sebastian? Is he well? He never writes me back and I'm afraid something might have happened to him.
Your loving friend,
Andrea
~For Country and Blood~
June 15, 1556
My dearest friend Andrea,
Happy Birthday. I've had several jewels sent to your Mistress' home along with your favorite chocolate pastries. I remembered how much you loved them. Mother wishes you her best.
Only you would have the immeasurably wonderful ability to drown out the noblemen. It always astounded me how you could smile, nod, say the right things, but not listen to a single word they were saying. You have a gift that I must acquire quickly.
I suppose that you're right. Olivia's honor is retained and that's all I wanted for her. Still, it doesn't make the heartbreak fade any faster. She's to marry within two weeks. She says that we must stop exchanging letters. I know she's right. As for my mother, I am most kind. Father has been insistent on my new responsibilities and mother has deflected most of his "king like pride" as she calls it. I often retreat to ride while she deals with him.
Mary, Queen of Scots. A girl I haven't seen since I was nine years old. She's still at the convent for her education. She doesn't write, but her mother still governs Scotland in her stead. She is quite a mystery to me. To think that my future wife is so close, yet so far is a bother to my usually steady thoughts. I wonder if she'll still be stubborn. I wonder if she'll still be short, with missing front teeth and strong opinions. I wonder if being a Queen has changed her. It's almost frightening that my wife is a Queen in her own right. More power than I myself wield.
Cause mischief and think of me. I'm sure it will still be satisfying all the same. A modest Frenchmen? Now I know you've been away too long, Andrea. My father is the least modest man I know, and he is supposedly the representation of France itself. Happiness is not overrated. I want it for you very much.
Bash is well. He walked about the castle in a rift after you left, but he seems to be moving on from his own pain. He told me of what happened between the two of you. I'm sorry.
With best wishes,
Francis
~For Country and Blood~
June 30 1556
My wonderful Dauphin,
You spoil me, Francis! The jewels were lovely and too much! I pale in comparison to their beauty. As for the pastries, they remind me of home and I thank you for that. I had the most nostalgic feeling while eating them. You are too good to me.
A gift, a skill, a curse and everything in between. I think it's something that you'll definitely need when you're eventually the ruler of your fair country. Noblemen are good at talking, but not listening. You must be good at both. To have the ability to not listen is just as important for the sake of your sanity.
Your father has always had his pride, this is nothing new. Our dear King has a head the size of his own country. I beg that you don't have the same ego once that crown is placed on your head.
She's almost sixteen as well. You can't very well call her a girl, especially since she is a Queen. If she's still stubborn, still opinionated and still short, it will be nothing you aren't used to. After all, your mother fits all of those qualifications, does she not? And as she is a Queen, you will be a King. A King of Scotland. I must say, you should develop the accent for my amusement.
Perhaps I'll find happiness. One day.
Why must you apologize to me? You did nothing wrong. It was I who left the both of you. I miss him. I wish he knew how much I miss him, because his pain is mine as well… If I had a choice, a real choice, I would choose to be with the two of you again.
Always Thinking of You,
Andrea
~For Country and Blood~
July 25 1556
Francis informed me that you inquired after me. I'm fine. I hope you are well. And I hope you had a lovely birthday.
You once said you adored a book on Norse mythology. Enclosed is your own copy.
I have not written you because I am trying to move on. Please understand that.
Sebastian.
~For Country and Blood~
One year later...
Age 18 - Andrea La Tremoille
Francis had been sleeping when he felt his hair move from his face. For a moment, he thought it was Natalia, sneaking in his room before he would be forced out of his bed to prepare for his sister's wedding. The idea of a little fun before the morning sounded tempting, but he was quickly confused by the scents that bombarded him. Chocolate and spice. It was very unlike Natalia's usual smell of flowers and fruits, but familiar all the same. He couldn't figure out where he remembered it from. He shifted slightly beneath his comforter, feeling a finger brush along his forehead once more.
"Natalia, as much as I'd love to, I'm going to need as much sleep as I can to survive today." He muttered, snuggling deeper into his pillow. "Later, I promise."
"Natalia? Charming more girls with your princely grin, Dauphin?"
His eyes immediately shot open at the familiar sound of the voice and he looked up to find a beautiful face and a bright smile above him. "Andrea…" He breathed in disbelief, a grin spreading out on his face as his tiredness quickly ebbed away from him.
She cocked her head to the side as she sat on the edge of Francis' bed, a lock of her strawberry blonde curls falling over her shoulder. "Well I'm certainly not a girl named Natalia." She teased.
Before she could utter another word, Francis quickly sat up and brought her into his arms. She did the same, burying her head in his shoulder and bringing him close. "When did you get back?" Francis said into her curls before he pulled away, his grin not once fading.
"Only an hour ago." Andrea said, smiling back at him. "The Queen requested me back since my training was complete." She didn't miss the way his eyes floated over her face and person, a curious look on his features. "What? Are you not glad to see me?"
Francis quickly shook his head. "Of course I am. I'm more than happy. I just…, you look different." He told her, running a hand over her cheek.
"A good different, I hope." She said, placing her hand over the one on her skin as she smiled sweetly at him. "You've changed too. You're a man, now. Good lord, you have stubble."
He couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of him. "You weren't expecting me to stay the same boy that was left here a year ago, did you?" He said, noting how her smile faltered a bit. She had certainly changed. A year ago, the Andrea he knew held an innocence to her. She was bright and full of light. The girl -the woman, that sat before him now was a different version of who she once was. There was a sense of maturity and a darkness to her person now. Her dress was dark blue in color, matching the gloves she had yet to take off from her travels to the French countryside. Her hair, while lighter from the Italian sun, had grown longer and her curls more defined. Even her makeup seemed darker, with her rogue reddening her lips as they hadn't been before. She was a woman now, if the curves she didn't have a year ago were anything to go by.
"Hm, perhaps I was expecting that boy." Andrea said, letting her hand fall back to her side. She smiled again. "But, I am glad that you might be tall enough now to beat me in a race one day."
Francis shook his head at her as she stood from his bed, allowing him to get up as well. She handed him his robe before walking to the other side of the room to look out of the window. "Still the tease, I see."
"Did you expect any differently?" She said as she sat at his desk. "So, what has been new since your last letter? Anything exciting?"
"Well, you've heard of my intended's return to court." Francis said with a bit of bitter to his tone. He shrugged on his shirt, not caring that Andrea was in the room. They had grown up together as practically siblings. They were comfortable around one another.
Andrea nodded, her eyes softening slightly at Francis' anger. "Yes. Though I can tell the news doesn't exactly bring you joy."
"I don't like the idea of being forced into marriage." Francis told her. "Just for an alliance that may not even be beneficial for my country."
"You are forgetting this is for the benefit of her country as well." Andrea told him, trying to give him a reassuring smile. "You told me that you and Mary were close when you were children. Perhaps you can rekindle that?"
Francis raised his eyebrow at her. "I already have a few stubborn women in my life, one who teases me at first light. I don't think I have the strength to handle another." Andrea laughed, making him grin. "I have missed you, you know. Letters only do so much."
"I've missed you too." Andrea said, tilting her head at him as a sad look graced her features. "I... never apologized for leaving without saying goodbye. Your mother sent me off on the first ship once light came. There wasn't time..."
Francis shook his head. "There's no need for an apology. You're here now and that's what matters." He pulled his shirt over his head, watching as she turned her gaze to the window once more. "Have you… spoken to Bash?"
Her hazel eyes floated back to him again, this time without the mirth and teasing she had before. This time, she put on the facade of neutrality, but Francis knew better. "Bash? No. I haven't."
Francis gave her a knowing look. "Andrea… I know you want to talk to him."
"Francis… don't. I don't want to talk to Sebastian about what… About that." Andrea feigned, avoiding meeting her dear friend's eyes. "I don't feel for him the way I felt a year ago. I was a naive girl, that's it."
"You and I both know that isn't true." Francis said in a tone that implied he knew Andrea better than she knew herself. Perhaps he did. "You loved him. He loved you."
"It was a year ago." She finally said in slight exasperation, looking up at him with a breezy and carefree smile that anyone but Francis would believe. "A lot changes in a year. We were in love… and now, we're nothing." As he finished buttoning his vest, she came and tugged at his hand. "This is my first day back in French court, you have a fiance that is due to arrive soon, your sister is getting married and your mother is sure to have both of our heads if we are focused on anything else. I don't know about you, but I'm in need of wine and… an activity before my audience with the Queen."
Francis couldn't help but smirk at her suggestion.
~For Country and Blood~
"Did you hear? That girl is back, the Queen's favorite lady!"
"Lady Andrea? I thought they sent her away?"
"I heard she ran away. Fleeing after refusing the Queen. I wonder what sordid things she had to do to get back into the royal family's good graces."
Servants' gossip always spread through the castle like wild fire. Unlike nobles and their secrets and intrigue, servants had no need for silence and tact. They spoke freely amongst themselves and usually it was news about their dear employers. To say that Sebastian was angry about their latest topic was perhaps an understatement.
He hadn't expected for her to return so soon. Yes, he knew that eventually she would return and that he would have to face her, but he hadn't had a chance to brace himself. She would pass him in the hall soon. Looking as lovely and sweet as she ever had and it made his blood boil at the thought.
He walked out of the preparation room where his half sister was being readied for her wedding to the King of Spain. He didn't need to witness the king and Queen's bitterness towards one another in the guise of a power struggle. The brilliant thing about being a bastard was never having to be a part of the drama that came with the royals. He could go as he pleased and he was right fine with it. And hearing the servants gossip about the girl he had tried so hard to forget was reason enough to leave.
He smirked as his brother raced up the stairs, looking disheveled as he did. He couldn't help but shake his head at the prince. "Francis, we've been looking for you everywhere. Tough to find."
Francis shook his head at him. "I was riding."
"Oh really? Who?" Bash asked cheekily.
Francis rolled his eyes at the man and turned so that his brother could fix his collar. "So Bash, how's the mood?"
"Father's or the mood in general?" he said to his little brother as he finished making him presentable. He shrugged. "Tense to both. Planning for your sister's wedding."
"Is your mother in there?"
"No. Only royals and their attendants. But your mother is in fine form, God save you." Bash said with a smirk. "I'm off now that you're here."
"Lucky bastard." Francis muttered under his breath. He breathed a sigh as Sebastian began to walk off. "Andrea has returned."
Sebastian froze in his steps, turning to face his brother with an unbothered expression. "I heard. She always did leave a trail of whispering servants wherever she went."
Francis shook his head at the man. "I was just with her, actually. She came to greet me as soon as she arrived. She misses you, you know."
Bash rolled his eyes. "Is that so? Funny how she hasn't made an appearance to me yet." He sounded more bitter than he intended to, but there was an unpleasant tightening within him that seemed ready to break.
"Can you blame her? You ignored her letters for a year and then told her to stop writing you."
Bash looked at him incredulously. "Can I blame her? I can. In case you've forgotten, she left us."
"And now she's back." Francis said slowly. He took in his brother's angered form and was brought back to the days after Andrea had left a year ago. When he skulked about the castle and left definitive welts in his training dummies. "She didn't leave by choice."
"Is that what she told you?" Bash scoffed and turned away, not wanting to look his pitying brother in the eye. "Just because you can forgive her doesn't mean that I can."
Francis opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it, knowing there was no way that he could convince his brother otherwise. They were both stubborn, he and Andrea. It was one of the many reasons he preferred their company above all else "Fine." He smirked as he spotted something over Bash's shoulder. "You can tell her yourself, because here she comes."
Bash barely had a moment to reply before he heard the click of her heels coming up the steps. "Bloody hell, Francis, I sent you on ahead so that you wouldn't anger your mother more than she already is." Andrea said as she ascended the staircase. She stopped short when she realized who he was talking to.
Francis patted his brother on the shoulder and turned on his heel to walk into the preparation room. Bash took in a deep sigh and turned to look at the woman he once loved. The two stared at one another for a moment, their gaze sharp and heavy.
The reddened blonde folded her hands before her and cast her eyes to the bottom hem of her dress."Sebastian." she said in a fairly diplomatic tone.
He clenched his jaw. "Andrea."
"You look well." she said as she climbed the last few steps to stand in front of him. "I received the book. It was a lovely gift. Thank you.
"You as well." he said politely, not finding himself telling a lie. It would take much for Andrea to look anything but beautiful. Not even the anger he held in his heart could make that less of a fact. "And your welcome. Italy agreed with you. Glad you left then?"
His words left a stabbing pain in her chest. She lifted her gaze to glare at him and Bash would have smirked at the fire in her hazel eyes a year ago. "You know I wasn't…" Stopping herself before she felt out of hand, she took in a quick breath and straightened her stance while she replaced her heated expression with stone. "I missed France. I'm glad that the queen wished me to come back."
Bash gave her a sarcastic smile. "Well then, I'm glad Catherine and I can disagree on something else in our long list."
"Are you truly going to be this cruel?" Andrea questioned harshly. "I didn't ask to leave and I certainly didn't ask to come back. I go where I'm told. Not all of us can be free spirited bastards."
"Yet as a free spirited bastard, I still know loyalty." He said with a heavily sarcastic tone.
"I know loyalty. I also know what loyalty is more important for my family." she countered. Bash said nothing in return. He only stared at her with those bright blue eyes that once made her heart warm. "I don't want to argue with you."
"Neither do I, so we can cut this conversation short." he said as he tried to turn away from the girl he had once loved.
Andrea clenched her eyes shut in frustration and gave a heavy, exasperated sigh. "Sebastian!" Bash stopped and looked back to her hesitantly. "I… I brought you something. From Italy. I saw it and… it made me think of you."
Bash simply stared at her, an unreadable look on his face. He must have gotten rather good at it in the past year. "You think a gift will fix anything?"
Andrea shook her head. "No… but you're getting one anyway. Whether or not you'll keep it is up to you, but I hope you do. Besides I wanted to return the favor since you sent me that book on mythology." She said before starting into the preparation room to attend the Queen. She stopped right as she passed Bash and looked at him sadly. "I'm glad… that you're well. You deserve to be."
With those words, she left him in the hall alone. Bash didn't know if he felt anger or longing in his chest like a weight. He supposed he had time to decide.
~For Country and Blood~
"Where she puts it, he won't smell it. Unless he is a very good husband." Andrea could hear Nostradamus say as she walked into his small workshop. Her senses were immediately assaulted with the scents of poultices & medicines that often wafted through this room. It was a familiar feeling of being surrounded by Nostradamus' genius. It was a piece of the larger puzzle that was slowly forming to make Andrea feel at home again. The lady in waiting smiled and pushed the door close with her hip, steadying the tray of tea she had prepared for her mistress.
Catherine only nodded to her as she set the tray beside the Queen and began serving it. Nostradamus smiled, however. Catherine's other ladies weren't permitted to attend her meetings with the seer. Andrea was an exception. She had known the man for years, after all.
"Imagine that." Catherine said to Nostradamus with a coy smile.
Nostradamus set his latest concoction on the table before them and sat across from his queen. "You do want Elizabeth to bear sons."
"Oh as soon as possible." Catherine said. "Or what is a wife's value?" The Queen of France sat forward in her seat and offered her seer a hopeful smile. "…But what about my son Francis? What do your visions say about his future? Tell me, Nostradamus, what have you seen?"
Andrea listened closely to the conversation now as she prepared the Queen's tea exactly how she liked it. She didn't know whether she believed in the physician's tellings of the future. The man was too cryptic for his own good. But she still held his words with caution, as they often had a way of appearing true. Once upon a time, Andrea was a girl who believed in ghosts and visions and the like. A year in Italy had made her a skeptic, however.
"I've had fleeting images, but as yet, their meaning is unclear." Nostradamus informed the eager woman. "Perhaps if you were more specific about your concerns?"
A warm smile spread to Catherine's face. "Well, will he love her? Will she love him?" Andrea was certain that the Queen was ill when the warm words and niceties dripped from her lips. "How do I control a daughter-in-law who's a queen in her own right?" The lady in waiting resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That was the queen she knew well and served over the years. There was always venom in the wake of her sugar.
"Is that what bothers you? Her power?" Nostradamus teased. "Or the fact that she's young and pretty?"
"I've just had a vision." Catherine rused with a short laughed. "I see you, beheaded at my command." At Nostradamus' unamused look, she shrugged her shoulders. "Said with gratitude for the secrets we share."
"Be patient. Answers will come." He told her before switching his attention to the lady who quietly and diligently served her queen. "Andrea, it is good to see you back at court." the seer told her with warmth in his tone.
"And it is lovely to see you as well, Nostradamus. " she replied with a happy smile while she set the teacup in her Queen's hands. "The guards say they see Queen Mary's carriage on the horizon, your Grace."
"Then they are on time." Catherine said. She looked to Nostradamus with a sharp look. "Hopefully your visions will become clearer once you see the girl. And Andrea," she turned in her seat to smile at the girl and took her hand. "I have a job for you."
"Yes, your majesty." Andrea said immediately in an obedient tone.
Catherine looked her dead in the eye as she spoke and Andrea knew that whatever she wanted done for her, it had to be serious. "I need eyes on her at all times. While you are not attending me, you should be at her side. You always were good at befriending royals, do it dutifully."
"I…" She glanced at Nostradamus for a moment before nodding at her Queen and smiling. "Yes, of course."
Catherine lifted a and to place it on the girl's cheek. "Thank you, my dear. I have missed you this past year. None of my other ladies have your loyalty or efficiency. Or your talents."
Andrea ignored the look that the seer gave her as she smiled at her Queen. Catherine always did love showering her with praise. Even after she was done tearing the parts of her away that didn't suit her needs. "Thank you, your majesty."
"Now," Catherine said, standing up from her chair. "Let us greet the young Queen."
~For Country and Blood~
The castle had been in a flurry with the Princess' wedding and Queen Mary's arrival. Everyone seemed to scatter to the courtyard to receive she and her ladies, eager to see the young queen that was to marry their Dauphin. As much as Francis pleaded, Andrea left him to his own devices to face his future wife. It was something that he needed to do without her there as a distraction. Plus, with Queen Catherine occupied, it gave her time for herself that she knew she wouldn't get again for a very long time. Especially with her new assignment of spying on the Queen of Scots for someone that was supposed to be her ally. A year ago, Andrea would have felt guilty. But her training wouldn't dare let her feel such a thing anymore.
With a book in her hand, she retreated to the emptier parts of the castle. Only the sunlight streaming through the windows illuminated the dust covered furniture and echoing halls, but it was plenty for her eyes to see the words on the page of her book. She reveled in the silence. In Italy, she shared her room with other girls aspiring to be a… femme fatale, as her signora had called it. They were all suited to the profession. They never seemed to like her much, dubbing her the, "Queen's Pet" the first time she had met them. Whenever she was around, they would speak in whispers and giggle while their judgemental gazes fell on her. Not that she truly minded, she kept to her own thoughts and amused herself with letters to Francis. Now , things seemed a bit different. While some of Catherine's Flying Squad downright hated each other with a competitive fury, those who were not a part of the group quite liked her. She enjoyed spending time with them.
...Most of the time.
"I heard the King's bastard bedded yet another lady." One of the other ladies had giggled to them earlier that day. They had been practicing their needlework -an act Andrea put up simply for looks- but it eventually spiraled into stories and gossip they had heard. Andrea had been laughing along until Sebastian was mentioned. Despite herself, she felt a swell of jealousy in the pit of her stomach. Before she knew it, she excused herself from the group and retreated with her book for some seclusion to sort out her thoughts. Why was she feeling this way? She thought she had left behind all of her feelings for Sebastian when she went away to Italy. Of course, she had to be over him. It was silly to cling to such a young and naive love from her past. Still, she felt something in her heart for the man that she once loved. She was too prideful to call it jealousy and too smart to argue otherwise.
Andrea found a spot on the floor in front of the staircase and lounged back on the steps with her eyes clearly fixed on her book. It was one on Norse legends that Bash himself has sent her as a birthday present. She supposed it was rather childish to be so enamored with such things but she couldn't help the lovely way the tales made her feel. Like she could run off into a fictional world of gods and goddesses and leave her mortal problems behind her.
She was taken from her fairytale world by the sound of someone ascending the other flight of stairs. A girl appeared, her gaze to the ornate windows before her. She hadn't even been paying attention enough to see her. Andrea tilted her head at her. She was rather pretty with her dark hair and eyes, and it seemed that her beautiful dress was suited for a noblewoman. So much for my quiet time. Andrea thought pitifully before shutting her book with a light slap.
The girl turned to face her at the sound, a hand flying to her chest and a gasp escaping her lips. When her wide brown eyes landed on Andrea still seated on the marble floor, her body relaxed and an embarrassed smile slipped onto her beautiful face. Andrea could only raise an eyebrow at the girl.
"I'm sorry." She spoke in a relieved voice that had the slightest bit of an accent that Andrea couldn't pinpoint. "I didn't see you there."
Andrea gripped the banister of the staircase and lifted herself up. "It's alright. I wasn't the one who was frightened." She told her. "Are you lost? It's not uncommon for visiting nobles to find their way to the deserted parts of the castle."
The girl quickly shook her head. "Oh no. I was just exploring. I can find my way back I believe."
"If you're sure." Andrea said slowly, giving the girl a curious look. Now that she gazed at her, the girl's face was rather familiar. Where had she met her? "As far as exploring, I'm afraid you picked a rather boring part of the castle."
The girl frowned. "Why is that?"
Andrea gave a light shrug of her shoulders. "It's been deserted for years. Not even the castle ghost ventures this far anymore. No one comes here."
"Except you." The girl said softly, offering Andrea a small smile.
Andrea couldn't help but return it with a smirk. "Except me, I suppose."
"I actually stayed here as a girl." she said. "Well not here, exactly. But my old rooms were near here. I think I played in these halls at one time."
"Is that so?" Andrea frowned at her in confusion. "I've never seen you about the castle before."
"I've only just returned." the dark haired girl explained. "I left when I was only eight. Back then, there weren't any tales of a ghost lurking within the walls."
Andrea tilted her head at her in amusement. "How sad for you then. Tales of the castle ghost were my favorite."
The girl seemed intrigued by her words and stepped closer to her. She seemed so innocent, so out of place in the notorious and scandalous French court. Andrea couldn't decide whether she pitied or envied her. "Why is that? Do you know the tales well?"
"Well there isn't very much to do for a little girl in this castle. Chasing ghosts and scaring the maids half to death were my favorite pastimes." The girl laughed at her and Andrea simply shrugged, a genuine smile pulling at her lips. "I just hope you're not on the receiving end of my torment. I do love bothering newcomers who step into my path."
"I'll be sure to stay on your good side then." the girl said with a wide grin.
Andrea gave her a curt nod. "As you should." She held out her hand to the girl. "I'm Andrea La Tremoille."
"Oh! Where are my manners!" She quickly and enthusiastically shook the red head's hand. "I'm Mary."
"Mary…" Andrea found herself repeating. It suddenly all clicked in her head. The accent, the wandering she had heard so much about from Catherine and Francis. She was in the presence of a queen. "Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots?"
The dark haired queen nodded. "Yes, that would be my title. But please, just call me Mary. I don't believe I've met a new friend here yet."
Andrea was quick to lower into a curtsy, keeping her head low. Panic arose in her chest. She always played a part to the people Catherine had her spy on. Letting herself be put in a position where she was so casual, it was a mistake that she would surely pay for later. She didn't miss the frown that fixed on the Queen's face. "Forgive me, your majesty. I didn't mean to… It wasn't my intention to be so frank with you, nor did I mean to threaten you with torment of all things."
"Well you were joking."
"Still, I-"
Mary held up her hands. "Andrea, please. I enjoyed your jests. Honestly." She gave her a reassuring smile. "You're the first person in this castle who has simply… treated me as a girl. I thank you for that."
Andrea stood up straight and stared at the girl for a moment, taking in the sincerity of her smile and the way that she seemed so… kind. It was so unlike any other royal -beside Francis, of course- that she had ever met. Why in the world would Catherine have her spy on such a person? "I…" She cleared her throat and curtseyed again. "I must be going, your majesty. If you would excuse me."
"Andrea!" She was halfway down the stairs when Mary called out to her. Andrea turned to look at her again, keeping together a polite and neutral expression while the young queen smiled hopefully at her. "I… I was hoping if you might like to come to my chambers and tell me stories of the castle ghost? I think I might like to hear them."
As it was her place, Andrea should have said yes immediately. But she found herself pondering the girl's request for a moment. She was Queen Catherine's lady and her loyalty was with her. This girl wanted a friend and she could never be that for her. Still, she placed a smile on her face and nodded. "Of course… Mary." She said before she turned and continued her descent. The smile turned into a smirk before she could very well do something about it. Despite her blunder… she had found her way into Mary's trust.
~For Country and Blood~
Bash stared at the wrapped gift that lay on his bed. The servants had brought it to him hours ago, but he had yet to open it. It was a sword, that much was a certain. It was a fine gift for him, everyone knew that he was a brilliant swordsman. But it wasn't the gift that bothered him, but the sender. Andrea had been telling the truth when she said that she had gotten him something. He didn't know what he had been expecting and he didn't know why he couldn't bring himself to open it fully.
A knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts, but it was the uninvited entrance that made him roll his eyes. There was only one person who felt bold enough to enter his chambers without permission.
"Mother." Bash greeted, not turning to look at her as his gaze still stayed on the unopened sword.
"Sebastian." Diane replied as she walked to his side. "I haven't seen you since the Scottish queen arrived."
Bash shook his head. "I've been preoccupied."
"Yes, I see that." She hummed, raising an eyebrow at him. "What's this? A new sword you ordered?"
"New sword, yes, but I didn't order it. It was a gift."
Diane's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A generous gift. From your father?" She frowned when he shook his head once more. "Then who? Francis perhaps?"
"No, mother." Bash sighed. He pulled his long standing gaze away from the sword and up to his mother as she stood beside his chair. "Andrea, actually."
"Andrea?" Diane's face fell to stone as she marched to the bed. "She's returned? When? Why?"
Bash gave his mother a confused frown. "This morning. Apparently, Catherine wanted her back."
"Hm. Well, I suppose Catherine needed her most special pet." Diane drawled. "Despite where her loyalties are, she always was good at keeping up with the games of our court. Eyes always watching, smiling when she needed something." She turned back to look at her son. "And smiling when she hurt my son. I hope you aren't planning on going back down that path."
"No, I'm not." Bash said with a heavy sigh. "And she was hardly smiling."
Diane rolled her eyes. "What does it matter? She held your heart and shattered it. And who was there to watch you wallow away?" Her words were spat out and vicious. "Are you defending her?"
"What is there to defend?" he challenged. "We both know what she did. And now she's back, what am I to do but accept that it's happened? Perhaps you will march up to Catherine and demand that she sent the girl away. Let me know how that works out for you."
Diane stared at her son in that way that he always hated. Diane de Poitiers was many things. Manipulative, vain, even selfish. But when he came to her son, she had a side that many had never seen. She could practically read her son like a book. Anything that she wanted for him, she received, no matter what the cost. King Henry knew that better than anyone. Her gaze was invasive and probing and if he were a lesser man, he would had squirmed over the intensity of it.
"You still love her." She said. It was a statement. Not a question that even he could argue against.
"What does this matter, mother?" Bash exclaimed in an exasperated tone. He stood and picked up the sword.
Diane shrugged her shoulders lightly. "Nothing, truly." She placed a hand on her son's shoulder, forcing him to look at her. "But you cannot love her. Not again. It will be your undoing. You must remove her from your heart."
He frowned at her. "And how do you suppose I do that?"
Placing a hand on her son's cheek, Diana gave him a motherly smile. Bash knew her well enough to know that trouble always followed the very smile she sported. "Keep your friends close, my dear. But always keep your enemies closer. And remember that they are indeed enemies."
Bash stared back at her. "Andrea is an enemy now?"
"Think back to the pain you once felt when she left." Diane said, patting his cheek lovingly. "And then question whether or not she is your enemy, my love."
~For Country and Blood~
The stables had always been one of Andrea's favorite places in the castle. Mostly because no nobles dared travel there. They always received their horses in the front of the castle, away from the smells and work of the servants. But Andrea never had an issue with it. She walked through the stables for the second time that day, paying no mind to the end of her riding dress becoming dirtied with hay and mud. Her eyes darted through the stalls, giddily awaiting when her eyes would land on her favorite animal.
The horse seemed to spot her before she spotted it. A wide, splitting grin formed on her face as she rushed over to the stall and ran her hands over the mare's snout. "Oh Gilly." She cooed to the animal. "I've missed you so much. Have you missed me, love?" The animal pushed her snout further into her hand, it's eyes drooping closed at her touch. "How about another ride, hm? This morning simply wasn't enough."
"Riding at this hour? The sun is setting. A girl like you shouldn't be out alone."
Andrea froze in her place for a moment at the familiar voice but didn't dare turn around to face him. "You should know as well as anyone that a girl like me does not care."
"Still stubborn." Bash said with a heavy sigh as he came to stand by her side. He reached forward to stroke Gilly's neck, avoiding Andrea's gaze as it turned to him. "Gilly is in right form. She's been well taken care of in your absence."
Andrea raised an eyebrow at him. "By who?" When he didn't reply, she took his silence as an answer enough. She smiled softly to herself before her eyes felt to the glint of silver at his hip. "You're wearing my gift."
Bash followed her gaze to the hilt of his sword where a freshly polished silver lion lay at the tip. It was his crest, one he had chosen for himself. It was what bastards did since they had no title or crest for themselves. Andrea had saw it in a shop window and thought of him immediately. Despite their… current status, she didn't hesitate in purchasing it for him. It was a feeling that was all too confusing. "Yes," Bash began. "It is a fine gift. You remembered my crest."
"Of course." Andrea said, frowning at the underlying doubt in his voice. "I remember when you chose it. You ran to me and you had this grin on your face like the cat that caught the canary. A lion. To match your bravery…" She let her words fade away at his soft, blue ridden gaze. It was so intense with a mixture of emotions she wasn't sure she was ready to face. "I take it you're not angry with me anymore?"
Bash shook his head. "Anger isn't the word that I would use."
"Then what would you use?"
"Conflicted." He quickly said, turning to face her fully. "We can't ignore what happened, but walking around with such… animosity won't get us anywhere either."
"No," Andrea said, shaking her head. "It won't."
"And so, I have a proposal." Bash said. At her intrigued look, he gave her a small, trying smile. He ran his eyes over her features. Her hazel eyes and soft red blonde hair. Her rosy lips that were pursed in thought while she stared at him. And the curve of her jaw into her chin, how subtle and sweet it was. She was beautiful. Any man would fall for her.
He did.
"You left. You broke my heart. It will take time for me to forgive you for that." Her expression grew sad and her hazel eyes cast down to her shoes. He tore his eyes away from her and cleared his throat. "But… we have been friends since we were nine. Close friends, in fact. I don't have many outside of my brother, and I… I would like to keep the few that I have."
Her eyes lifted again, this time they were bright with happiness he had dreamt about in the year that she was gone. "So what is your proposal?" She asked.
"We remain friends." Bash told her. "We do not bicker and waste time arguing-"
"No arguing with you? How boring."
He gave her a playful glare. "And we do not let the past repeat itself."
His hidden implications were clear even if he didn't say it. Andrea tore her eyes from him and returned them to her beloved mare, to avoid letting him see the hurt she knew they exuded. "I… of course. I understand. My position here is at the Queen's whim. We might never know if she'll send me off again. Besides, we tried and we failed. We can't very well let the past dictate what we do now or in the future, that would be silly and honestly I would love to be your friend again, if you will have me-"
"Andrea," he grinned at her. "You're rambling."
She shut her mouth, a small smile pulling at her lips. "Right, I was, wasn't I?" She sighed and turned to him with a mockingly serious expression. "Alright then, Sebastian De Poitier. I accept your proposal." She said, holding out her hand for him to shake.
Bash chuckled and happily obliged her. "I am glad, Andrea La Tremoille." He gestured to Gilly beside them. "Shall we cement our agreement with a ride? I'm sure Gilly has missed you and wants as much time as she can get."
"I simply have one thing to add to our agreement." She said, her mirth dying down to a much more somber expression. "If you wouldn't mind."
He searched her face before nodding. "Of course."
"You will not become angry at me for the things that I must do for the queen." She said, turning her eyes down to the hem of her dress. "You know the rumors, the facts. I'm a member of Queen Catherine's flying squadron. Simply a tool for her to use for whatever political means she deems necessary."
"You sleep with men for secrets." The way he said it told her that he was anything but happy with the prospect. He stared at her with those bright blues as if he was imagining her doing exactly what Catherine would use for her.
She turned her gaze back to Gilly, petting her absentmindedly. "Some ladies sleep with men for secrets. It's… how we survive in this court. Hopefully, I can be of use to the Queen in some other way, but... If you cannot accept that, then there is no reason for me to agree to what you propose." She turned back to him, taking in the indecisiveness in his eyes and the tension coiling just beneath the surface. "Wouldn't you agree?"
He wanted to say no. He wanted to shout that she was better than being the Queen's plaything, a tool for the crown to do with whatever they wished. But those words never came. Instead, he nodded and ignored the tearing in his heart and the anger that flushed against his skin. "Alright then. We are agreed."
She beamed at him and Sebastian decided that the grin she gave him now was worth the pain and aching he would endure when he would have to eventually watch her manipulate nobleman into her bed.
At least, that is what he told himself.
~For Country and Blood~
Elisabeth's wedding was spectacular and beautiful, as it would be for the now King and Queen of Spain. Andrea noticed how nervous the girl was as she was given away to another country by her father, who smiled proudly and in a rather smug fashion for his new alliance. Her hand shook when she placed it in her new husband's as they walked down the aisle as a married couple. Everyone clapped happily for them and wished them a series of "congratulations" and "may your reign be long and prosperous". Queen Catherine ignored her husband for the most part and simply smiled, crying happy tears for her eldest daughter. Andrea didn't want to guess whether or not the tears were real or fake.
The reception was just as extravagant. Andrea watched from beside a few other of Catherine's ladies as Elisabeth and Philip danced with one another. Elisabeth truly was a beautiful bride. And quite young. And while it wasn't uncommon for such things to happen, especially in royal families, Andrea felt for the princess. She was a pawn in her father's games, something to be traded, bought and sold. She was almost in the same position. Except Andrea was certain that she would never be married.
"The Duke of Anjou has yet another mistress." Catherine tutted judgmentally before taking a sip of her wine. Andrea stood slightly behind her, as did her other ladies, and waited for an order to be given from their queen. "This one even younger than the last. Though I suppose that his wife is much too concerned with her chalets and the newest fashions of Paris to pay any mind to her marriage. Money blinds the heart and the mind."
Andrea raised an eyebrow at her queen in question. Catherine watched the man critically, as if she were sizing him up and reading him like a book all at once. She had seen that look enough times to know that she had found yet another target. "Would you like us to see if it blinds her husband as well?"
Catherine looked at her with a unreadable expression before she dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. Andrea couldn't help but frown at the action."Not at all. Fools with money are the least of my concerns . The Duke of Guyenne arrives tomorrow to pay his respects to the newly wedded couple before their departure and his pull in the Spanish court interests me. Gabrielle can keep his attention. I have something special in mind for you."
"And what is it that you wish of me this evening, your highness?" Andrea replied dutifully, though a bit of confusion graced her features.
"Tonight, nothing. Simply keep an eye on the Scottish queen." Catherine turned around to face her head on, looking at her in the eye. "But tomorrow, I have a rather… special assignment."
Andrea didn't hesitate when the queen steered her away from the rest of her ladies. They all stared after her, some envious and others worried. Andrea couldn't say that she didn't feel the same breath of absolute nervousness over what the queen needed to happen. She wasn't exactly in the position to refuse, whatever the request may be.
"You are fond of my son, yes?" Catherine asked her, bluntly and without remorse.
Andrea stared at her for a moment before nodding, her eyes flying down to her shoes. "As one is fond of any dear friend… or a brother, your highness."
"And you would protect him if need be?"
The question knocked her off guard. Andrea quickly lifted her gaze and looked the Queen in the eye, a feat that was rarely allowed between servant and mistress. But the way that catherine worded the question was one of desperation and genuine curiosity. "... Always, your highness."
Catherine smiled at her loyalty before it dropped into one of seriousness. "Then tomorrow, when questioned, you will say that you witnessed the Queen of Scots invite a man into her bed chambers."
Andrea's eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly, trying to voice words of shock or at least reluctance, but nothing came forth. Catherine gestured over to where a young man nervously stood with two goblets in his hand, his eyes scouring over the crowd to the young Queen as she talked with her fellow nobility.
"That is the young man. His name is Colin. Comes from a family of favored servants and is courting one of Mary's noble ladies, if you can believe it." Catherine told her. "You will describe him, in detail, down to what color trousers he's wearing.
Andrea nodded obediently, as she always did. "I-I don't understand. Why would Queen Mary risk an alliance that her country needs and destroy her virtue? That would be utterly foolish."
Catherine suddenly frowned in disappointment. Andrea let her gaze drop once more, knowing that she had overstepped. "Then let her be foolish. Those are not questions for you to ask. You will simply report what I have told you and let that be the end of it." She suddenly reached forward and gripped both of her arms firmly to get her point across. "If you wish to protect Francis, my son, as you say that you do, then you will do this without question and without hesitation, do you understand? And you will say nothing of this to Francis. Do remember that you and your family's welfare depends on your success in all that I ask of you."
Andrea searched over the Queen's face, finding a deadly glint in her eyes and desperation on her features that she tried hard to hide. The small moral and good part of herself that she still clung to fought against this order. It questioned it defiantly, but the part of her that was so fiercely loyal to Catherine buried such doubts with a single thought. Her family. Her wellbeing, her very life depended on the powerful woman standing before her. Refusal wasn't an option. It was death. And not just for herself.
She bent her head in a small, well practiced curtsy, earning a hum of approval from her Queen. "Yes, of course, my queen."
Catherine let herself smile again, taking a step back as she released the girl from her grasp. "Very good. Do enjoy yourself this evening, Andrea. This is a celebration after all."
Andrea's smile dropped from her face the moment Catherine turned and walked gracefully over to her husband. Her stomach did a strange flip of anxiety that made her hand dart out and grab a goblet of wine from the nearest servant. She downed it quickly, not caring how she looked to those around her. The slight burning of the wine quelled her nerves and the pang of guilt building within her. Guilt and nerves were for lesser women. Women that were not trained as she was. Andrea knew better.
"That's Mary, Queen of Scots!" One of her fellow ladies said in a gossiping manner behind Andrea. "She's rather… common, isn't she?
"What can you expect from someone who was raised by nuns?" another said, making Andrea roll her eyes. "Natalia said that the prince sent Mary away earlier while she was in his room. Seems as if the young Queen can't even keep a hold of her fiance."
Andrea released a heavy and vocal sigh, gaining the attention of the two women. Charlotte, the one with dark, red hair hair who had been with the Medici Queen for two years, was the first to raise her brow at her. "What was that, Andrea? Don't agree with our assessment?"
Andrea took the last sip of her wine, counting it as the end of her second, before she set it on the tray of a passing servant. She turned to look at the two with a bored expression. "I think you don't know the first thing you're talking about."
Maggie glared at her and flipped a lock of her dark brown hair behind her ear. "And I suppose you know all about the royal family's affairs? Being that you are their pet."
"I know that our dear Dauphin values the well being of our country more than he values Natalia's breasts." Andrea said boldly without batting an eyelash. "He's marrying a Queen. A beautiful one at that." She looked over her shoulder to the subject of her conversation as she seemed to be talking to the boy, Colin, who offered her wine. She didn't miss the way the young queen looked at the goblet before setting it to the side. Andrea was glad she had drank enough to bury her guilt. "She's quite a stunning young woman. Even for someone who was raised by nuns."
"Another royal you're trying to weasel yourself with." Maggie bit out. "Will you kiss the Queen of Scot's feet while you're at it? Or perhaps you'll just settle for the ground she walks on? How would she feel knowing that you also bed her intended?"
Andrea rolled her eyes. "Trust me, darlings, I don't need to sleep with any of the royals to get the benefits, unlike you lot. Loyalty has its own rewards."
The two women said nothing and simply sneered at her before walking away. A victorious smirk pulled at Andrea's lips as she turned back around. The atmosphere of the ball room suddenly shifted as Mary and her ladies took to the dance floor. They caught everyone's attention with their girlish giggles and the way they twirled around and danced with one another. There was an air of purity and innocence about them. The innocence that Andrea ached to hold again. She frowned once more, wondering how someone like Mary would betray Francis in such a way.
"So it was true. The pet of Catherine de Medici, Andrea La Tremoille, has returned to French Court. How kind of her to grace us with her presence." Andrea felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end at the voice and turned to face Diane de Poitiers. She was just as she remembered. Beautiful, dark and all around the most underhanded person she had ever known, save Queen Catherine. The woman had always been fairly neutral to her, never having an opinion about the girl that her son loved one way or the other. But she always rubbed Andrea the wrong way. It was her conniving nature that generally put Andrea on edge, she never knew what the woman had up her sleeve.
Andrea cradled her cup in her hand and stood before the woman, pasting a smile on to her face. "Mistress de Poitier. It's wonderful to see you again."
"Is it?" Diane hummed, a smirk pulling to her lips. "And they said that you were good at lying. Hm…" she reached forward and touched the lacing of Andrea's gold hued gown that she had chosen for the evening, making the girl stiffen where she stood. "Catherine gives you everything that your little heart could want. Dresses fit for a princess, jewels that make noble girls quake with envy. I wonder why that is."
Andrea swallowed, bringing her wine to her lips again. "...She rewards those loyal to her. She always has."
"Perhaps." Diane said, a deadly glint suddenly slithering to her eyes. "I won't keep you long, I'm sure that Catherine has given you a lengthy list of orders. I simply wished to welcome you back and tell you to stay from my son."
Andrea blinked at her in shock, the very audacity and boldness of her statement throwing her off. "I'm sorry?"
"You're a terrible liar but you aren't deaf." Diane snapped at her. "You are a poison to Sebastian, to any man that gets to close to you. You're toxic. I will not have my son fall prey to your tricks again, do you understand?"
The words stung. Andrea stared at the woman, trying to keep her resolve despite the fact that she felt as if she had been slapped in the face and dunked in cold water all at once. "I never tricked him. I loved-"
Diane held up a hand as she began to stutter over her words, her eyes rolling with annoyance. "You can fool him, you can fool yourself, but I see through you, Andrea. You are as ambitious as your mistress. My son's position here is tentative. He can't afford to make any mistakes, least of all with you. So keep your venom and your tricks to yourself. Because if you hurt my son again, your return at court will be rather… short lived."
She knew a threat against her life when she heard it. She watched as Diane walked away, leaving her shaken among the happy wedding guest. It seemed as if this night was determined to pile on her misery. French Court was never subtle about anything, hatred being among the top of it. With her wine in hand, she straightened her posture and plastered a neutral expression despite the raging tides of emotions within her. When she was behind closed doors, she could do what she liked, but any sign of weakness could very well be her end.
She moved through the crowd to stand beside Francis, who seemed enamored with his future bride as she danced among falling feathers. Her eyes watched him for a moment, taken in the look in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. It was strange and beautiful all at once. Then as they announced the bedding ceremony, it all stopped. Elisabeth and her husband were whisked off to the chamber and the giggling ladies and their Queen ran off to god knows where.
"Careful, Francis." Andrea teased with a touch of bitterness in her tone, downing her fourth cup of wine that she grabbed from the passing servant "You look like you could fall in love. We don't want that, now do we?
Francis looked at her with a playful glare, though his face suddenly contorted into a mix of embarrassment as well. "I'm not in love with her." he said defensively.
Andrea shook her head. "I didn't say that you were in love with her. I said that you could fall in love with her. Those are very different things, Dauphin."
Francis suddenly raised a brow at her, his embarrassment turning into amusement. "You're drunk."
Andrea scoffed at him, though she knew in her mind that he was very much right. Her limbs were pleasantly loose and relaxed and her mind was muddled and foggy. She probably shouldn't have had that fourth cup of wine. "You are avoiding the conversation."
"There is no conversation to be had." Francis told her in a low voice and stepped forward to steady his friend as she tipped to the side slightly. "Especially when you're too inebriated to provide decent and intelligent commentary."
"Well excuse me for having a bit of fun." Andrea said with a huff as he took her goblet from her hand. "Your mother has no need of me this evening and for once, I'm free to do what I like. You can hardly blame me for taking a few more sips of wine than I should. This court is hell otherwise." It was lie, of course. How could she tell her best friend that she was drinking to dull the guilt of his mother's orders?
Francis frowned and moved the goblet out of her reach as she tried to grab at it. "I can and I am. You will not drink anymore tonight."
"You are not yet King of France." Andrea bit at him, instantly regretting the action as Francis gave her a hurt look. "You can't order me about."
"I am not telling you as your future King, I'm telling you as your friend." Francis wiped his face clean of the hurt and instead replaced it with something much more authoritative. "Yet I do have power as your Dauphin. I'll have a guard escort you to your rooms."
"I'm not a child, Francis."
"Well then you will not behave as one and go to your rooms quietly and without struggle." Francis gave her a stern look. "Do you want my mother to see you like this? Or anyone else for that matter?"
"I almost wished I cared." Andrea huffed. "Give it back!"
Suddenly, a hand enclosed around her wrist and turned her around. She found herself facing a stern looking Sebastian. He was the last person she wanted to see. She quickly tried to snatch her wrist away but he was much too strong for her drunken rage. Francis only reached forward to place two hands on her shoulders to steady the teetering girl, his eyes darting around to make sure that no one was watching the display.
"Now, is that any way for a lady to act?" Sebastian said in a low and hushed tone.
She glared at him. "I'm barely a lady. And I'm a bloody woman for God's sake, I will not be manhandled."
Bash gave her an incredulous look. "Really? A woman? Does a woman get drunk off of her arse and throw a fit in the middle of a party full of delegates that are watching her?"
Andrea bristled at those words and found herself looking around, seeing that were indeed a few people staring at the three of them. She glanced at the goblet in Francis' hand and the tense look on his face and her actions suddenly dawned on her through her drunkenness. Though the stubborn part of her nature refused to admit it, she was acting foolishly and recklessly. All because she couldn't handle her first official night of duty properly.
Would she ever be ever to handle any of it properly?
She breathed in a sharp breath and stood straight with Francis' guide. "... I'm sorry."
"You need not apologize." Francis shushed. "Simply return to your room and we'll speak tomorrow. I promise."
Andrea nodded and wordlessly allowed Bash to steer her from the ballroom. She caught sight of Maggie and Charlotte on the far side of the room, watching and whispering to one another, surely about her. She ignored them for the most part as Bash moved his hand to her waist to better steady her slightly off balance walk. They walked silently before they came to the corridor that led to she and the other ladies' rooms. There was no one else there, just the two of them and the echoes of music.
"That was stupid, you know?" he tersely said as they came to her room door.
Andrea turned to glare at him, quickly stepping out of his grasp and almost bumping into her door as she did. "Stupid? So says the man I once witnessed get so drunk on his arse that he passed out in his horse's stall. Stupid, he says."
Bash narrowed his bright blue eyes at her. "I've never made a public display of my drunkenness, unlike you, who seems comfortable letting the world know that she can't handle her wine."
Her mouth fell open in offense, a huff leaving her lips. "First, it was hardly the world, most of the attendants were already gone-"
Bash rolled his eyes. "Oh please…"
"Second, I can handle my wine just fine, thank you." Andrea poked him in the chest as she said the words, a comical display to any who would pass by. "Third, how dare you judge me. You have no right! You barely have the authority, and you have no idea the kind of night that I have had. So spare me the famous Sebastian de Poitier holier-than-thou lecture on inconspicuous inappropriate behavior, because you are no better than I am." Worked up and angry, she shoved him slightly, but once again, her drunken strength was no match for his. "I've been back one, single day and already I've heard of how you have slept with half of the ladies at court! They tell me, "Sebastian De Poitier is a philanderer and a flirt" and there isn't a girl he's met that he hasn't gotten out of her dress!"
Bash stared at her in near disbelief. "I'm sorry, are you lecturing me now? You? One of the French Queen's Flying Squad that is famed for sleeping with men for secrets? How many have you bedded in the year that you were gone? Surely the number must rival my own because that is what you are paid to do, is it not?"
"That is not the same and you go too far!"
"Oh I'm going too far, am I?" Bash stepped closer into her space, squaring off with the small, redheaded woman as she glared at him, enraged by his words and just as hurt as well. But he didn't stop. His anger wouldn't allow him to. "I begged you to stay with me. A year ago, I asked you to choose and you chose to sleep with men for money instead of being with me. So you can spare me whatever lecture, whatever rumors and whatever anger you have, because in the end, I do what I do out of pleasure. Not out of obligation, and certainly not for coin."
Andrea stared at him for a moment and through her drunken haze, a dawn of realization settled on her. He was still hurt. More hurt than he had let on earlier. Surely, he didn't forgive her and she wouldn't expect him to. But this was much deeper than forgiveness. Her anger slowly dissipated at the thought and she found her gaze for him softening.
"...You still love me."
She watched as he slowly processed the words that she had spoken. "...So what if I do?"
She clenched her eyes shut, wanting to just fade into the door that she was leaned up against and make this whole situation go away. Her duties, her responsibilities, her damned feelings and guilt. She wanted it all to just be over when she opened her eyes. But when she did, with her blues meeting his, all of it was still unfortunately very much real. "You can't do that, Sebastian."
"You don't think I know that?" Bash asked with a hardened stare. "I've tried to stop thinking about you. I've tried to stop feeling anything for you. I thought our agreement earlier would quell whatever was left of us, but it only made it worse… And I think you feel the same."
She glowered at him, but didn't deny it. Sensing her hesitation, he reached forward and took her face in his large, calloused hands. Andrea had to fight the shiver that tried to shoot down her spine and she didn't look him in the eye until he made her. Blue met hazel in a clash of anger, confliction and longing. It was only a year ago that they were in this exact position, but it seemed as if they were different people now. She wasn't the lovesick girl that chased ghosts and fairy tales and he wasn't the passionate and declarative boy that wished for everything and more for them both. They were two souls that had been changed by life in cruel and scandalous ways.
Yet, they still loved one another.
She kissed him before sense could stop her. Teeth and tongue clashed and lips moved over one another in an effort to gain control. Andrea couldn't help but notice that the way he touched her was different. It wasn't gentle and teasing as it used to be. It was rougher and much more deliberate. He ran his hands over her clothed body, tugging at her dress as if he were ready to rip it off of her. All the while her hands were buried in his short, dark locks.
He managed to open the door to her room and back her inside, not once bothering to remove himself from her. He slammed the door shut and pressed her against it, pulling up her dress until her bare leg was open to his touch. Her skin was on fire in the most wonderful way. Every flick of his tongue and touch of his fingers elicited a jolt from her body and she inflicted on him in the same way he did to her. She ran her fingers through his hair like she knew he liked and scratched ever so slightly. Her teeth clamped down gently on his lower lip, pulling a deep and subtle groan from the man in her arms.
He rutted against her like a man possessed and she couldn't help but chase her pleasure as well. Both of them were fully clothed, their skin on fire beneath the finely made material, and Sebastian had no qualms in reaching up and tearing the delicate silk of from her shoulder. He pressed hot kisses to the newly exposed skin and she arched into his touch. It seemed as if nothing else mattered in that moment except the two of them and the rush of want that flooded through them.
God, she had missed him. It was evident in the way she kissed him and grabbed desperately at him. From that infuriating smirk of his, to his damned bravery and even the pride he held against being dubbed a bastard of the king. He was not the boy she had met so many years ago, he was a man now. A man that she knew well within herself that she wouldn't be able to get out of her heart no matter how hard she tried.
She was a masochist. She had to be.
It was that thought and the feeling of her back hitting the bed that quickly brought her back to reality.
She broke their kiss and pressed her hands against his chest to stop his next drove to reclaim her lips. Both of them were frozen for a moment, only their heavy breathing and the distant sounds of the party filling the void between them. Their heaving chests slowed in that moment. With hesitant movements, Bash wordlessly moved to lay beside her on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Andrea pursed her lips and let her eyes hesitantly flicker over to him, gauging his overall reaction. He simply stared at the ceiling beside her, his arm barely touching her own.
"... We're not going to be able to be just friends, are we?" Andrea found herself asking, looking back at the ceiling of her room.
Bash heaved a heavy sigh. "Probably not."
She couldn't help but agree with him, as bitter as the truth was."So what do we do now?"
Bash finally turned to look at her, scouring over her face and her hair that had been disheveled by his hand. He reached forward and ran a thumb over her cheek, a sharp contrast to the way he had touched her only moments ago. "I go back to my room, you stay here... We awake in the morning and hope that the next time we face another, it will be cordial."
Andrea turned on her side to face him her head feeling heavy from the alcohol. "And you think that will be enough?"
He shrugged, pulling his hand away from her skin. "I don't know… it may very well have to be."
She watched, unmoving, as he stood from her bed and readjusted his clothing. Then, to her confusion, he walked around the bed and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. She frowned at him when he pulled away and left her room without a goodbye. She felt oddly cold and alone when the door finally shut behind him.
She supposed she would have to get used to that feeling.
A/N: Yep, I posted chapter 2 early. I couldn't help it. I'm terrible at keeping schedules!