Chapter 4: Kissed
There was always a calm before the storm and Andrea tried to forget that as she basked in the sun. It was a beautifully serene day. The sun shined in a bright blue sky and a light breeze caressed Andrea's cheek as she sat in the grass. It was peaceful and quiet, save for the laughs and lighthearted giggles from her companions.
"Okay, Kenna, it's your turn." Mary said with a bright smile on her face. "Not your first, but your best kisser."
It was such a silly topic. It made her feel younger than she was, almost lighter. She smiled along with the girls and shook her head at their antics. In the few short weeks that they had all returned to court, Mary and her ladies had become regular companions of her's. Granted, their budding friendship began on the orders that Andrea would report their activities to Catherine -which she was still careful to do- she found herself genuinely enjoying spending time with them. She could forget about her problems for awhile and just be a girl instead of Queen Catherine's most special Flying Lady.
Kenna smiled coyly, as if she was remembering something fondly and a blush reached her cheeks. "It was a man, not a boy." Andrea's smile faltered and she looked at Kenna with slight surprise.
Mary gaped at her. "Who? You must tell us!"
Andrea knew who it was. Kenna glanced at her, knowing that Andrea was well aware of the man that she spoke of. Andrea tried to hide the disappointment on her face, but didn't bother to say anything. Kenna was probably the one she was closest with, save Mary. They were alike in many ways, wanting so much to be free with themselves and as wild as they often felt. At times, Andrea was reminded her of the little sister she left back in her village. Perhaps that was why she worried about her so.
"All I'll say is that there is no point in waiting for boys our own age who have no idea what they're doing." Her smile widened into a suggestive one. "Either find yourself a man or... take care of your needs yourself." The girls laughed at the scandalousness of the statement while Mary blushed furiously. Andrea shook her head. Raised by nuns indeed. "Anyway, it's Greer's turn isn't it?"
All eyes turned to the pretty blonde who gave a heavy sigh. "My first kiss… is in the very near future." She confessed, her face twisting into a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation. "I'm not like you, my family's not titled. I can't afford even little mistakes."
"You don't have to explain anything, Greer." Andrea said, offering her a supportive smile. "Being untitled in court is stifling."
"Exactly! Thank you, Andrea!" Greer said, relieved to have someone who understood her place. She let a smile slide on her face then, one that was hopeful and energetic. "But... I think I found the man. He's tall, dark, and noble. Tomás, the son of the king of Portugal. He's here negotiating some kind of trade deal but he's taking his time about it and I think it's to stay with me."
Aylee pursed her lips worriedly. "Greer, it's dangerous to get involved with a prince. You know they marry for alliances, your family are commoners."
There was a small uncomfortable silence at the mention of Greer's station or lack thereof. It didn't phase Greer, however, who simply smiled and waved the comment off. "Tomás is a king's bastard like Bash. Favoured too but with money and land. I'm not a fool, I know a true royal would never look at me except to ruin me." At the unconvinced look of her friends, she gave a heavy sigh. "I can take care of myself." She said, trying to sway the worry on their faces. "Enough about my own lack of experience, it's Andrea's turn. Your best kiss."
All eyes were suddenly on her and she stammered under their gazes, unsure of what to say. "Um, alright." She said, clearing her throat. "Well my best kiss… I was fifteen, I believe. I had been in the stables, skipping my Italian lesson for the day. He found me and lied to my governess when she came looking. He was the worst liar I had ever seen,but I didn't tease him for it."
"You not tease someone?" Lola joked. "He must have been special."
Andrea rolled her eyes playfully at her. "He was. We went riding that day and it was lovely. Just us in the woods, among flowers and the songs of birds. We stopped to rest our horses and after he helped me off of mine… he kissed me."
Kenna, just as excited and taken aback by the story as her friends were, beamed at Andrea and nudged her arm. "Well go on, tell us who it was! He has to be handsome."
"He sounds lovely." Mary agreed. "How was the kiss?"
"...you wouldn't know him. He's long gone." Andrea lied easily. She bit her lip and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. "But it was… an amazing kiss. Passionate, yet gentle. Not my first, but my favorite."
"Well you can't just end with that! Don't stop there! Give us more details!" Aylee pleaded.
Greer nodded in agreement. "Was he highborn? A prince? What did his clothes look like?"
"Let her breathe!" Lola admonished in her usual gentle nature. "If she wants to tell us, she'll tell us. Until then, we should respect Andrea's privacy."
Andrea smiled graciously to her. "Thank you, Lola."
"Your majesty!" The girls turned to find a servant running towards them urgently. "Your majesty, your uncle, Claude de Guise is here and wishes to see you."
Mary's jovial face fell at the news and she breathed a deep sigh before bidding them farewell and making off with the servant to see her uncle. Andrea raised an eyebrow at her reaction and turned to the ladies in question.
"Is Mary not happy to see her uncle?" She said. "I thought she of all people would be glad to have familial relations at court."
"Lord de Guise has always been a calculating man. He often undermines Mary and treats her as a girl, not a Queen." Lola explained with a frown. "If he's here, it can't be for a simple visit. Something must be wrong."
The other four nodded in agreement, all of their faces contorted into worry. Andrea looked after Mary as she retreated back to castle, wondering what in the world could possibly go wrong on a lovely day like today.
It was as the idiom said. There was always a calm before a storm.
~For Country and Blood~
Bash blocked his father's blow with his wooden sword before taking a swipe at his legs that the older man easily avoided. Usually, he was better than this. He and his father's sparring was a frequent activity between the him, a way for them both to blow off steam and forget things for awhile. His mind, however, refused to let him stop thinking.
Long red head hair and hazel eyes flashed before his own and a laugh that made his heart flutter echoed through his ears. No matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to get the girl out of his head. She was like an echo of a time he had tried to forget, coming back to haunt him again and again. No amount of riding and liaisons with other women could rid him of thoughts of her touch and proximity.
And then there was Mary. His brother's fiance. A girl who smiled at him and caused him no grief. She was easy to talk to. She didn't look down at him or frown at his behavior. If anything, she laughed. She was so innocent compared to the other women at court. Compared to…
It was easy to see their differences. Andrea's eyes were a bright and swirling hazel while Mary's were warm and brown. Andrea's hair fell in waves of red while Mary's was dark and smooth. Andrea was wild and saucy and Mary was often reserved and sweet. Two different women that he knew he couldn't have. What a pathetic existence he lived.
He had barely managed to jump back from a particularly hard swing of his father's wooden sword before he lunged forward. Henry smirked and kicked his distracted son back, sending him reeling to the floor. Bash sighed at the ceiling for a moment and caught his breath before slapping the ground beside him in defeat.
"Your mind's elsewhere." His father said knowingly, holding out a hand to help his son to his feet. "Is it slender Lady Charlotte or plump Lady Isabelle with the breasts like two pigeons, huh?"
"If I told you, you might poach. You've a liking for pigeon as I recall." He said with a scandalous smirk, turning his back to his father to pick up his sword.
Henry chuckled, reaching down to adjust the gloves on his hand. "Or perhaps your mind strays to that lovely Lady Andrea with the red hair. Catherine's long time lady." Bash froze, his back blocking Henry's view of the surprised and stormy expression upon his face. Henry, oblivious to his son's displeasure, continued on with his fantasizing. "She always was beautiful, but it seems she's flourished in her time away from court. Quite distracting."
"You know how angered Catherine gets when you pursue her ladies, father." Bash reminded him, straightening his face into a neutral expression before turning back to the man. "No need to stress yourself."
Henry shrugged and drew his sword once more. "Yes, I recall. Never mind that then. I have one too many distractions as it is." Sebastian gave a mental sigh of relief at that, but a bit of worry still pooled in his stomach. "Though, I cannot deny myself the taste of pigeon, can I?"
"Not if I give myself a taste first." Sebastian said with a mischievous grin.
The man barely had a chance to bark a laugh before his younger son stomped into the room. Sebastian took a step back and watched his younger brother stare at their father with a look of determination.
"We should help Scotland." Francis boldly and pleadingly declared. "Not for Mary, but for France."
Henry peered at his son with discernable eyes before flicking his hand. "By all means, explain."
"When you say that the border is quicksand, you assume that we'll lose." Francis began, passionate in his speech. "England hasn't sent its entire army north. They're poking to see what reaction they get. We could strike fast, hit back hard and win. But if we do nothing, we risk losing the entire Scottish alliance. Years of planning, wasted."
Henry raised his brow at his son. "So it's a balance of risks either way." Francis nodded. "Very good. Except I've decided the reasons against outweigh the reasons for. And guess what, " Francis' sighed and looked down in disappointment the king's cocky response. "I'm King." Henry gestured to Sebastian. "Another round?"
"You never spar with me." Francis told him as he plucked the wooden sword from his brother's hand. Sebastian pondered his brother silently, a tinge of guilt ringing through him. Francis might have been the next King and was considered Henry's legitimate son, but the whole court knew that he favored Sebastian. Francis would inherit everything and Bash would get nothing but cherished memories with his father.
"Is it a good idea for a King to spar with his usurper?"
"You mean his inheritor." Francis brandished the sword easily and pointed it at his father in a challenging fashion. "If you win, I shut up about this whole subject. If I win, you send those six companies of men."
Henry smirked at his golden haired son and set himself in an offensive position before he struck at his son with a battle cry. Sebastian watched them from the sidelines patiently, genuinely worried for the outcome. His fondness for Mary was new to him and confusing, even more so than his feelings for Andrea. He could never act on any of them, but to see Mary on the brink of losing her country… well, that would surely break his heart. Francis won with a simple swipe of his sword, knocking his father's from his hand. Francis' sword rested at Henry's neck as the King stared at him from on his knees.
Their father panted from exertion and grinned at his son. "Very good. Very good, inheritor."
Francis smiled in triumph. "I beat you. So when can they leave?"
Henry stood up straight and dusted himself off before giving a heavy sigh. "Oh, no one's going to Scotland."
Francis and Sebastian looked at their father in disbelief. "But your word… Your wager-"
"Well, that's what kings do." Henry explained in a sage like manner, as if he were passing on wisdom of the ages to his son. "We make promises to everybody, and whatever works for the realm, we keep. Otherwise, they never happened." Henry gestured to him with his sword before turning to leave his throne room without a hint of remorse on his face. "Lesson for today."
Francis stood there in disappointment, his eyes cast to the ground. Sebastian pursed his lips and stepped towards his brother . "Francis," he began with a heavy sigh. "That's not the way to get father-
Francis shook his head, feeling utterly powerless to do anything. "I don't need anymore lessons right now." He said curtly, passing the practice sword to his brother's hands before turning on his heel and leaving Bash alone in the throne room.
"Have I missed his highness?" Bash turned to find Samuel entering the throne room, breathing hard from having ran to his destination. Bash wanted to roll his eyes, wondering how in the world his luck had been so cursed to endure this new level of annoyance.
"Seems you have." Bash answered him, biting back any maliciousness he might have had in his gut. It had been rumored that the Duke of Nemours had been openly and unabashedly flirting with Andrea. Apparently, -in typical Andrea fashion- she had been flirting back. "My father is a wanderer. It's hard to keep him in one place at a time."
"I would imagine so. Being the King must have it's need for wanderlust." Samuel chirped politely, a wide smile on his face. "I just needed his final signature to close our agreement. I leave for Nemour in two days time since our business has concluded."
That statement shouldn't have given him such joy, but he felt a mixture of relief and happiness flooding through him. "Wouldn't want to keep you then. Father should be headed for his chambers now for a baths."
"I also wished to speak to you, Lord de Poitiers." Samuel said to pause his exit. Bash sighed and turned back to him expectantly. "That is your title, yes?"
Bash shrugged. "Bastard is what I typically use. What did you need?"
"I wanted to speak to you about the lady Andrea." Samuel told him, shuffling his papers around in an awkward fan. He was akin to a smitten schoolboy, fumbling about unsure of what to say. Bash looked upon his in both curiosity and annoyance. Why in the world would Andrea entertain such a man? "I have heard that you and her were friends during your childhood. That's quite a lovely fact."
"We were, yes." Bash affirmed. "Andrea grew up in the castle with my brother and I. I believe the Dauphin would be better suited to any questions you have about her."
Samuel shook his head. "I wouldn't want to bother the Prince of France with such trivial matters."
"And yet, you'll bother me with them?" The Lord seemed taken aback by Bash's curt tone, a veil of confusion upon his face. Bash sighed and cast his eyes to the ceiling in pure exasperation. "What is it that that wished to ask me?"
"Have I offended you?" Samuel asked.
Bash shrugged nonchalantly. "Couldn't imagine how you would." Bash lied. He didn't want to say how incredibly annoyed he was by the Lord in front of him at the moment.
"Perhaps I overstepped asking about your friend." Samuel suggested, being as polite as a nobleman could be. "I simply wished to get to know her better before I depart. She's quite interesting."
"That's a word for it." Bash joked. "If you wish to get to know her better, ask her yourself. If there is one thing I know that she loathes, it is being talked about when she isn't around. Good, bad or otherwise."
Samuel nodded. "I will keep that in mind then. Can you truly blame me for wanting to get to know her better?" He didn't wait for Sebastian to answer as he prattled on. "She's not like the other girls at court, constantly worrying about their dresses and talking of nonsensical things."
"Andrea worries about her dresses and nonsensical things as well. She likes them, no shame in that. As you said, I've known her a very long time." Bash told him, wanting nothing more than for his sword to turn to steel so that he could run him through, or at least shut him up for the moment.
The Lord pursed her lips as if he were debating whether or not to speak the words on the tip of his tongue. His debate must have won out as Bash watched him sigh. "Knowing her so well… are the rumors true?" Sebastian raised his brow in question, nodding for him to continue. "About… she and the Dauphin?"
It took him a moment to grasp what he had said, the words not processing properly in his head. Of all the rumors that surrounded Andrea, from her parentage to her affairs, hearing them never got easy. Especially when such a rumor included his brother. It made his chest tighten in a way he didn't want to admit was jealousy, but he had enough sense to know that denying such a thing was futile. "Francis and Andrea are friends and nothing more. You needn't worry about any competition from a prince. Or anyone else for that matter."
The news caused a wide smile to spread across Samuel's face and he nodded gratefully to Bash, who wanted nothing more than to grimace and discourage all of his attempts to court Andrea. But he knew that the red head would surely have his head for interfering in her love life. "Are we done? I have a few things to attend to if you don't mind."
"Oh no, of course!" Samuel said with an enthusiastic nod before he turned on his he. "Thank you for your time, Lord De Poitier. It was a pleasure."
Sebastian merely nodded as he retreated from the throne and frowned as he found himself alone in the throne room once more, this time with a tightening in his chest and a heavy weight on his heart.
~For Country and Blood~
"And you are sure that you've seen nothing?" Andrea pondered with a frown as she sat staring at Nostradamus while he worked. He was preparing a concoction of sorts, pouring the contents of labelless bottles into his bowl every so often "Nothing that tells of my future?"
Nostradamus shot his gaze to her for a moment and shook his head. "I have not. At least not anything that should cause you any terror, my dear."
"So that means you've seen something else, but can't tell me." Andrea said with a sigh, not needing his confirmation to know that she was right. "Does it get exhausting being so ominous?"
"Quite, my dear." Nostradamus said, cracking a smile at her words. "But I don't hold information from you to be wicked."
Andrea gave him a tight smile and nodded. "Yes I know. I just… that was a message from someone in this castle. And it terrified me."
The look that passed over Nostradamus' face was a mixture of both remorse and guilt. One that Andrea found herself wanting to question, but knowing better than to do so. "The red "X" you mean." Nostradamus said. "I assure you, your life is safe in this castle. No one would risk the wrath of the Queen by attacking you."
"In good sense, I know that." Andrea said, a sigh escaping her lips. "However, the less rational part of my mind is quite terrified that someone might hurt me." She watched the seer crush a series of leaves and herbs in his bowl before she spoke again. "Would it have been better if I had stayed in Italy?"
Nostradamus paused in his ministrations for a moment to raise a questioning brow at the lady. "I only see the future, my dear. Not other possibilities."
"I'm not asking you as a seer, but as a friend." She told him. "You've known me since I was barely a young woman… Do you think that it would have been better for me to stay in Italy?"
He sighed and set aside his tools for a moment, giving the young, terrified and unsure girl his undivided attention. "Are you asking because you fear for your safety or because you fear for others?" At her following silence, Nostradamus came to rest his hands on her arms in a sort of comfort. "Tragedy finds anyone in any place. The distance of oceans and the height of stone walls cannot keep that from being true. You would fear for yourself whether you were in Italy or in France because that is your nature."
"My life wasn't being threatened in Italy." Andrea pointed out.
"You are a favorite of Queen Catherine de Medici. You're life was always threatened there."
As much as she wanted to argue otherwise, she knew that it was true. The Medici's were a powerful family with connections to the pope and royalty all across Europe. They had once ruled Florence with a mighty fist filled with gold coins and sharp witted knowledge. That kind of power bought enemies everywhere. Catherine and her servants weren't exempt from such treatment.
"As for your fear for others." Nostradamus continued. "I believe nothing could be gained from your absence. You'd fear for your loved ones in Italy and they'd fear for your's here. At least here, you can change whatever circumstance might befall you."
"I believe changing my circumstances is the very reason that I'm in service to her majesty." Andrea said with a sigh. "But you words comfort me some. Thank you."
Nostradamus smiled at her and nodded. "Of course, my dear." Andrea nodded a goodbye in reply and turned to walk out of the seer's workshop. Nostradamus pursed his lips for a moment before calling out to her. "Bonds that seem of force may very well be of your own volition. And they can be quite beautiful when we accept their gift." Andrea turned to look at him, her eyes widened slightly in surprise at the fortune. "Cages are not always made for us… they are often of our own design."
~For Country and Blood~
The small gathering was lively, with music and dancing as always. The King of Portugal's bastard stood on the other side of the hall, watching the dancers and whispering to his countrymen. He was a peculiar man, one that Catherine hadn't deemed important enough to investigate. But there were still rumors spread about what kind of man he was. Some whispered that he was charming and kind. Others -the majority- said that he was cruel and was especially brutal to his servants. Certainly, only one of those stories could be true and Andrea feared that it was the latter.
Andrea was currently talking to an older nobleman, a German Duke who prattled on about a number of topics from his new thoroughbred to his latest grandchild -a boy he was proud to announce-. Queen Catherine sat with the king, always in her line of sight in case her mistress needed her.
"And wouldn't you believe that he's already walking!" The Duke boasted in a thick German accent. "I'll say he'll be a proper horseman by the time he's five."
"It sounds like it." Andrea said with a sweet smile on her face. "Is it true your province produces some of the finest breeds in all of Europe?"
She watched as the Duke's chest puffed with pride and he smiled widely at her. "Yes, indeed! We send horses to most of the royal houses in our dear Europe. I hope that King Henry will welcome a few of our steed into his stables by next month. For a price, of course."
"I'm sure." Andrea agreed. She placed a small pout on her pretty face then, almost as if she were disappointed. "Of course, I wouldn't imagine it being easy for a French king to readily accept German horses into his stables and armies. No matter how beautiful they are. And they are quite beautiful."
The Duke looked thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged lightly. "You have a point. Germany and France have never had a very harmonious relationship. But with such beautiful women, like yourself, my countrymen should be encouraged to put aside our differences."
Andrea gave him a dazzling smile, one that was meant to sway the most difficult of men. "Well, i certainly hope you'll be able to put aside your differences to bring the best parts of your country to France. I do believe everyone deserves to enjoy your horses."
"Perhaps I could amend my business with the French king so that you can have a German horse all your own." He gruffed, adjusting the ornamental sword on his hip. "You cannot put a price on beauty."
"No you certainly cannot." Andrea murmured as he walked towards the king and Queen. She lifted her goblet to her lips and took a sip, watching their conversation for a moment. Whatever the Duke said seemed to please both of their majesties as they smiled and laughed along with him. Catherine's eyes raised to hers and the rose from her throne to walk over to her lady in waiting.
"The Duke has agreed to sell us a herd of his finely bred horses at a much more discounted price than before." Catherine told her with a sly smirk on his face. "He said something about "sharing the beauty of Germany with all". How do you do it?"
Andrea smiled at her mistress. "I was taught by the best, no?" She said. "The Duke appreciates beauty in all places. I simply convinced him to improve upon our own by gifting us his most beautiful possessions. It wasn't very hard."
"The King had been bartering with the Duke for days before you stepped in. Do not sell yourself, along with myself, short." Catherine said. "Have you learned anything new from Mary and her ladies?"
Andrea nodded and moved closer to her mistress to whisper to her. "Mary met with her uncle, Claude de Guise, earlier. I'm guessing to discuss the English pressing at Scottish borders." Catherine gestured for her to go on, not particularly interested in news of Scotland and England's perpetual discord. "And the lady Kenna seems… quite enamored with King Henry."
Catherine raised a brow and let her eyes flicker back and forth between Kenna and Henry. "Is that so? How silly of her then. Does Mary know?"
"I couldn't imagine how she wouldn't, but she hasn't said anything." Andrea said. "Besides that, Greer is courting the King of Portugal's son. An ambitious match, certainly, but nothing is concrete, so I've heard."
"And has Mary said anything about her relationship with Francis?" Catherine questioned, her eyes resting on the pair as Mary entered the hall. The two seemed anything but harmonious in the way that they interacted.
Andrea shook her head. "No. It actually seems like a subject Mary readily avoids, which speaks it's own message."
"That Mary and Francis' engagement is not going well." Catherine smirked. "Very good. Ah, here comes Nostradamus." The seer was making his way to them, dressed in heavy furs with his head bowed to draw less attention to himself. Though, with his height and stature, it was hard not to notice the strange healer.
He bowed to Catherine as he neared and nodded a greeting to Andrea, who happily returned it. "Your Majesty, Lady Andrea." he said in his usual deep voice.
"Nostradamus." Catherine greeted. "Your vision. Do you know yet how the warfare will reach inside this castle?"
Andrea frowned in confusion but kept her mouth shut as the Queen consorted with the seer, who shook his head in reply. "No, your Majesty."
Catherine hummed lightly and let her eyes skim over the patrons of her home. "Perhaps you saw the fighting in England." She gestured to Andrea. "Be a dear and go mingle while we speak."
Andrea nodded obediently and immediately went to do as her mistress ordered. She decided to stand with her fellow ladies instead of going to talk to Francis or Bash, or even Mary and her ladies. Charlotte barely spared her a glance. Something about their mindless squabble made her feel better and more at ease, even if they didn't particularly like her. Still, the Queen's words to Nostradamus stuck in her head. What war was going to reach in this castle? How? The thought frightened and against her better judgement, she forced herself to stop questioning. If it was important enough, the Queen would have told her.
… At least that was what she believed.
"Wine again?" Francis said as he came to stand at his friend's side. "Remember what happened the last time you had too much."
Andrea glared playfully at the Dauphin and shook her head. "It's one cup and I plan on only drinking the contents of it." She grabbed a cup from a passing servant and placed it in his hand. "You look like you need a sip. Hard day, Dauphin?"
Francis sighed and drank from the goblet. "Hard would be an understatement. My father still refuses to send aid to Scotland and I can't do a damn thing about it."
Andrea frowned in worry. The small gathering was lively, with music and dancing as always. The King of Portugal's bastard stood on the other side of the hall, watching the dancers and whispering to his countrymen. He was a peculiar man, one that Catherine hadn't deemed important enough to investigate. But there were still rumors spread about what kind of man he was. Some whispered that he was charming and kind. Others -the majority- said that he was cruel and was especially brutal to his servants. Certainly, only one of those stories could be true and Andrea feared that it was the latter.
"You worry yourself too much, Francis." Andrea told him. "It's not your fault that Scotland's borders are being overrun and it's certainly not your fault that your father refuses to send aid." She reached up and set her hand on his shoulder and turned his body so that he would look at her. He looked irritated and tense and so much older than he actually was. Her heart broke for him. "This is how I know that you'll be an excellent king. You care about people. You'll find a way to help Mary, I know you will."
Francis smiled at her and nodded. "You have so much faith in me." He said, resting his hand on the one still in his shoulder. "If only she felt the same."
Andrea followed his gaze to Mary as she entered the party, looking as beautiful and regal as ever. "Give it time." she told him simply. "She has a whole country counting on her. Heavy is the head that wears a crown, whether it be a King or Queen."
Francis nodded at her before going to Mary's side. Andrea could only watch it happen, knowing that giving Francis advise on Mary was a direct violation of Catherine's orders for her. But her perpetually conflicted heart wanted nothing but happiness for her friend… and it seemed that Mary brought him that.
The room grew quiet as the King called out to Nostradamus and the Queen. Henry had never truly liked the seer. He would claim that he and Catherine were having an affair if he had an inkling of evidence, but everyone knew better than to make such an accusation. Nostradamus was a trusted advisor and a healer that had mended many of the royal court's ailments. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. That didn't mean that Henry would ever pass up a moment to pester the poor man.
"Nostradamus!" Henry called out, looking far too smug on his throne and he grinned maliciously at the seer and his wife. "Why don't you share your wisdom with us?"
Andrea frowned and turned to view the scene, not moving from her place with the ladies. Nostradamus, baffled from the sudden amount of attention, lowered his head respectively. "I don't understand."
"Always at my wife's ear. What do you whisper?" Henry lauded. Catherine narrowed her eyes at her husband. "I hear Emperor Maximilian has a seer in Prague who can tell fortunes using playing cards." He gestured over to Mary and her ladies, who watched the spectacle from a table. "Tell the fortunes of Queen Mary and her ladies."
"Why is the King doing this?" Andrea murmured to herself more than her fellow ladies.
Charlotte shook her head, watching the scene in mild interest. "The King likes to play. It's best to let him be."
Nostradamus shuffled to King Henry and kneeled before him, unsure of how to approach his new situation. "Forgive me, your Majesty, but I am not skilled at cards and I don't control my visions. They come and go as they will."
Henry raised a brow in judgement and disapproval. "You're not as good as Maximillian's seer?"
Catherine scoffed as she made her way back to her throne beside her much detested husband. "Leave him alone, Henry."
Henry feigned innocence and gestured to the bowing seer. "Oh, come, the man must have something to recommend him since you rely so deeply on his counsel."
Nostradamus, knowing that he had no choice, lifted from his position and made his way to the Scottish leadies, cards in hand. Andrea let out a shaky breath as she watched the display, worried for her old friend. "Nostradamus isn't a jester." Andrea seethed quietly, making Charlotte look at her in slight surprise. "He's a good man, for god's sakes, does he have nothing better to fill his time with?"
"I know you're the Queen's pet, but you're not suicidal or stupid." Charlotte hissed at her, frowning deeply at her. "Even her majesty won't be able to stave off the King when he hears your complaints and comes for your head."
Andrea pursed her lips and frowned. Despite her fury and extreme displeasure, she knew that she was right. Mary and her ladies all drew a card from the seer's deck and thought of a question, as he requested. Lola was the first, who looked at him with a bit of hope and heartbreak in her eyes. "Will I ever love again?"
Nostradamus frowned, but nodded slightly. "You'll meet a dark, handsome stranger. Be wary of flattery."
A puzzled look passed over Lola's face, but she didn't question her fortune. Nostradamus turned to Mary then, the Queen giving him the most gentle smile. "Life will offer many challenges. You will meet them with grace."
Mary smiled at his lovely words until Henry boasted from his throne. "Oh come now! I asked for a fortune, not a platitude!"
The seer flinched before turning back to the young Queen. A look passed over Nostradamus' face, as if -for a moment- he wasn't present in the room anymore. But as quickly as it came, it was gone just as fast. "The lion will fight the dragon on a field of poppies."
People murmured about the strange words while Mary stared at him in confusion. "What?"
Nostradamus bowed his head, looking almost ashamed of himself and his gift. Andrea's heart broke for him. "The lion will fight the dragon on a field of poppies." He repeated, his voice low and soft.
Greer was next and in a baffled tone, asked her question. "Who will I-"
"You'll fall in love with a man with a white mark on his face." he interrupted, almost as if he were in a trance.
Aylee, so innocent and sweet, looked at her card. "When will-"
A pained expression spread across his face. "You will never go home."
Her face dropped into one of sadness and horror. Mary reached forward to grip her lady's hand, looking at Nostradamus with distrust. "What do you mean I'll never go home?" Aylee stuttered.
Nostradamus shook his head. "That's all I was given, you know no more than I."
King Henry, satisfied with the humiliation that he had subjected Nostradamus to, smiled smugly. "Well, there's a showman for you."
Catherine glared at her husband before flicking her wrist towards the musicians. "Musicians, dancing music. Enough of this foolishness."
The music started again and people returned to their festivities with an uneasy transition. Andrea set down her empty goblet and immediately went to Nostradamus' side, despite Charlotte's futile and half-attempted protests. She crossed the room, sliding between whispering nobles and servants and reached out to the seer when he was in arm's length. "Nostradamus-"
"Why would you say that to my friend?" Andrea stopped short, right beside Nostradamus as Mary came to confront the man. The usually kind queen had a stern frown upon her face, both worried and uncertain. "Why scare her?
Nostradamus bowed his head low, though he still towered over the young queen regardless. "I only say what I've seen."
Mary scoffed skeptically, as many did when faced with Nostradamus' gifts. "Like a dragon and a field of poppies? Are people fooled by you?"
"Mary, your majesty." Andrea interrupted, moving slightly in front of Nostradamus, much to the healer's surprise. "You do not blame a sword for cutting you, so you shouldn't blame a seer for seeing what he does."
Mary looked at her in mild alarm, obviously surprised by Andrea's fierce defense of the man. "You believe his tales as well, Andrea?"
"It's not about what I believe, but what I know." Andrea craned her neck to look at him, catching the conflicted look upon his face. "Nostradamus has been a true friend to the crown and has never lied to me."
"That doesn't mean he does not lie to others." Mary argued, turning her gaze back to the man in question. "The only dragon's are in children's stories."
Nostradamus pursed his lips. "Then I must be a liar."
Andrea looked at him in surprise while Mary frowned deeply at him. "But why these lies? Who gains? The fortune-telling was Henry's idea, so it can't have come from Catherine. Who are you and who do you serve?"
It was the first time that Andrea had truly heard Mary sound like a Queen, all demands and a firmness she had not exuded when she first arrived at court. It was to the lady's displeasure that she realized that France was changing the naive girl before her in the way that she had predicted. And she didn't truly like it.
"It is as Andrea said," Nostradamus said. "The realm,... myself, the truth."
"The truth?" Mary wondered aloud.
"Serving the truth at court is a crooked path." Nostradamus said with finality in his tone before he bowed to both Mary and Andrea and turned on his heel to leave.
Andrea let out a sigh and turned to the confused Scottish Queen. "Mary, he's just-"
"He's just scaring my friends." Mary interrupted her, giving her a hardened gaze that showed her frustration with just about everything that court was throwing at her. "You and Catherine might believe his fables, but I'm not going to let someone else at French court bully my Scottish ladies and I."
Andrea's eyes narrowed despite herself and she looked back at Nostradamus' retreating back. "If you knew him, you would not think so."
"But I don't know him." Mary said, her resolve softening just a bit at her words. "And that is why I don't trust him."
"Then trust me at least." Andrea said, turning to grab the Queen's hand. Mary looked down at their intertwined hands, a confused and conflicted look upon her face. "I'm not lying about Nostradamus. If you don't trust that, at least think on his words. They may have a deeper meaning than what is presented on the surface."
Before Mary could utter a word to question her, Andrea turned on her heel and stalked away. Her heart thudded in her chest heavily from the anxiousness she now felt. Favorited as she was, she had just argued with a Queen. Someone far above her station. Not only that, she had probably shattered the delicate trust she had with Mary and she desperately needed it for Catherine's orders. Her head ached from the stress of it all.
"Lady Andrea!" The red head stopped and looked over to where her name had been called, looking over to see a servant making their way towards her. He placed a letter in his hand and bowed his head. "A letter from your family. Given to you directly upon arrival, as requested."
Andrea nodded her thanks and looked down at the letter in hand, instantly recognizing her grandmother's ragged script. She held it to her chest and glanced around the room before deciding she'd had enough of this party. With little more than a glance over her shoulder, she turned and dashed off from the party.
~For Country and Blood~
The castle grounds were basked in the warm glow of candlelight and fireworks. It was a gorgeous display and Sebastian enjoyed it with a heavy bottle of wine in hand. From his spot, he could oversee the whole of the lake and the festivities that happened below, all while being unbothered by it all. He'd had enough of the drama of court for one day and it was one of the few times he was glad to be a bastard, not required to be anywhere when he didn't want to be, unlike his brother.
He was mid swig when he saw her approaching, her hazel eyes glued to the piece of parchment in her hand. There was a frown on her lovely face, one of worry and a bit of sadness that he wished to wash away with all his being. She didn't seem to notice him and he didn't make his presence known until she was much closer. He cleared his throat expectantly, causing her to jump slightly in surprise.
She quickly raised a hand and brushed a piece of her long, wavy strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. "Sebastian…"
"Andrea." Bash murmured to her in greeting. "You look lovely, as usual."
She raised a brow at him and dragged her eyes to the bottle in his hand. "Thank you." She said.
"...I don't suppose an apology for our last interactions would suffice, would it?" He lamented, giving her a hopeful look that was tied with how utterly tired he was of their spats
Andrea gave him a small smile as she walked towards him. "As long as you accept my own, then it's a start. Enjoying yourself?"
Bash gave a light shrug and sighed. "As much as one can at these things. That's why I escaped up here. It's all propriety and whispering, nothing ever truly fun."
Andrea laughed at his complaints, earning a smirk from the roguish bastard. She came to sit beside him, her gaze floating to the shimmering lights outside. "Some people like propriety." She told him. "As for the whispering, I thought you'd be used to it by now?"
"Because I'm a bastard or because I was raised in French court, the pinnacle of all whispers?" Bash weighed to her.
She gave him a dull look. "Both." She answered, reaching forward and taking the bottle from his hand without invitation. He only raised a brow as she took her own swig and grimaced at the bitter taste. "What would you rather be doing right now?" At the scandalous look that passed his face, Andrea groaned and shook her head. "Why do I even bother?"
"You asked."
"And for once, I believed that you wouldn't be crass, but shame on me for expecting the best." She shot back at him, though her voice was filled with mirth. Slowly, it seemed as if the other members and properness of court were fading away, leaving only the two of them to their wine and conversation. It was lovely, in it's own way, and Bash found himself wanting to cling to the moment despite himself.
Bash grinned at her and shook his head, taking back his bottle. "In truth, I'd rather be riding… Or sticking pins in my eyes. Either or really."
"But you have such lovely eyes, it'd be a waste." She said, earning a hum from him. Suddenly, her eyes caught onto someone down below and she visibly winced. "Oh bloody hell, I thought he would have left court by now!"
Bash stared at her in confusion before glancing in the direction where she had been looking. He chuckled when his eyes found Samuel as well. "Are you hiding from Lord Samuel then? What was that nickname you used to call him? The Duke of-"
"Oh don't." She pleaded with a heavy sigh, leaning back beside her longtime friend comfortably. "You would think the man would have better sense than to pursue a woman who once teased him…" She glanced up to Bash, who raised an eyebrow at her. "You were different. I never called you a coward."
"An arse, an idiot, "the most pig headed brute in all of France"." Bash listed off humorously. "But no, never a coward."
"All were true at those moments." She drawled. "But I teased you because you were my friend. It was a fun game. I teased him because I didn't like him."
"And now?" Bash questioned, though he wasn't sure he truly wanted the answer. "I thought you liked his attention."
Andrea brought up her head to look at him in confusion. "What on Earth would make you think such a thing?"
"I heard that you agreed for a walk in the gardens with him." Bash pointed out. "As well as some mutual flirtation."
"Why Bash, I never knew you were one for gossip."
"I'm not." He said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, he was asking questions about you. He seems enamored."
"He can be that all he wants." Andrea said. "That doesn't mean I can reciprocate. Or wish to. Besides, you know a servant can't very well refuse a nobleman."
Bash frowned at that. "I never knew you to refer to yourself as just a servant."
"It's what I am." Andrea sighed. She lifted the parchment in her hand that she had been reading before he interrupted her and offered it to him. He raised a brow and obliged her, looking over what he realized was a letter from her grandmother. "My nan received a letter from my father." She murmured. "Says that he and my brother are so very close to reclaiming all that we lost. Load of good it will do now."
"You don't believe him this time?" It was a road they had walked many times. A conversation about her family that he knew she felt more deeply about than she cared to admit.
Andrea shook her head. "Not entirely. I have hope, but I won't hold my breath…" She let her eyes travel to him, her brow furrowed slightly in worry as she took the wine back for herself. "Are you alright?"
Bash avoided looking at her directly and instead let his gaze wander to the pretty lights outside. She had a way of seeing straight through him if he let her and he knew he wasn't in the right state to hide anything from her. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I know it's rarely asked of you." Andrea pointed out in an almost annoyingly all knowing tone. "And the last time you sat alone drinking, it was because your favorite mare had died when you were fifteen. So what's wrong?
Bash pursed his lips, not wanting to talk but knowing that in the stubborn woman's presence it was unlikely he could keep his worries to himself. "... I'm fine. Life is the same as always. Perpetually in the middle of Francis and father's squabble."
Andrea frowned at that. "They were at it again then? What of this time?"
"The conflict in Scotland… The look on Francis' face when our father went back on his word to send aid if he won their sparring..." His tone was tight and agitated. Andrea could only watch as Bash began stewing in an anger he had been desperately trying to keep from rising to the surface. "Our father basically admitted that he blatantly never spent time with Francis. And for some god damned reason, I felt guilty about it."
"... You're brother loves you. If I'm sure of anything, it is that. He and your father's issues don't concern you."
"And yet they do…" Bash snapped, though she didn't jump as she knew he wasn't angry with her. "Is it wrong to be angry at my brother's jealousy? France will happily let me spill blood and die for it, and then fade off into history. Francis will always be remembered. He will be King, he will have books written about him and songs sung of his reign. Why am I but a flicker in his story?"
"You're a flame in others." Andrea insisted. She reached over and took his hand in her own, trying to comfort him however she could. "No one can blame you for being angry. You were made a pawn in an unwanted game a long time ago by people who were never supposed to place you there in the first place. But look at you," she gestured to him. "You've created your own place. You're strong, you're a marvelous hunter and swordsman, and you care so fiercely for others."
"Are you trying to compliment me to make me feel better?" He joked, though the slight pink tinge to his cheeks and ears gave away how much he liked the words from her lips.
"I'm telling you the truth." She said meaningfully. "Your brother loves you and that is a bond that cannot be easily broken. Not by jealousy or anger. But you are not a small part of his story, or any story for that matter." She tilted her head at him and gave him her most dazzling and beautiful smile and he swore he felt his heart skip a beat. "You have more fire and passion in you than any man I've ever met. A fire that will readily burn an entire narrative before it ever becomes a flicker of anything."
Sebastian stared at her, taking in her words and her sheer beauty in that moment. The sparkling of the fireworks danced off her hazel eyes and smooth skin, making her look almost ethereal. Her lips were still pulled into a small smile and Bash wanted so badly to reach forward and kiss her. But he knew he could never do such a thing again.
"You're very good at changing the subject." Bash found himself saying, making her frown in confusion. "We were talking about your family and your problems, not mine."
Andrea opened her mouth to speak when something caught her eye past his shoulder. Sebastian followed her gaze to Kenna as she strolled towards them, looking sad and distraught. It seemed theirs was a spot for the pitiful and lost. She paused when she saw them both sitting so closely, getting a strange look on her face that quickly faded before she made up her mind to sit with them. Andrea and Sebastian glanced at one another in question, but said nothing of their newest companion. Instead, Andrea leaned over Sebastian, sandwiched between them, and placed the wine into her hands.
"Penny for your thoughts, love?" Andrea asked curiously.
Kenna glanced at her before she sighed and took a sip of the wine, grimacing at the taste. "The King is a confusing man."
Andrea frowned and Bash merely sighed at the girl's remarks. "That he is."
"That's certainly a word for it." Andrea continued. "Confusing, infuriating, egotistic…"
"The King of France with the power to take your pretty head from your neck." Sebastian gave her as meaningful look as he said the words, earning a pair of rolledeyes from his companion.
Kenna stared at them for a moment before shaking her head. "Is the King a punishing man when he doesn't get what he wants?"
"It's hard to imagine a more uncomfortable conversation about one's father." Bash grimaced.
Kenna rolled her eyes. "You don't even know what I'm talking about specifically."
"I know exactly what you're talking about." It was the same old song with any pretty, impressionable girl that fell prey to his father's charms. "His attention drifted to you and now it's drifting elsewhere. Am I right?"
Andrea could only watch as Kenna nodded sadly, seeming so pitiful and lost in the King's endless games. Andrea might have been Catherine's pawn in all intents and purposes, but she was glad that she never had the displeasure of having the King's attentions. It sounded the most cruel and uncomfortable experience.
Bash sighed and shifted beside Andrea, his side pressed into her while her chest brushed over his shoulder. "He's not punishing you, he's playing you. He likes to play and he likes to win, but know this about him. A victory without effort is worse than a defeat."
Andrea frowned deeply at him. "She's not some prize for the King to win. She's a noble lady."
"I know that." Bash told her. "But I know my father and I know how he thinks. He wants to be a conqueror no matter the conquest."
Kenna shook her head. "I don't want to be a conquest. I just… Want him." She groaned and covered her face with her hands. "Am I foolish to pursue this?"
Bash and Andrea both frowned, not sure how to answer the girl before them. She looked hopeful and, of course, she thought the King was sincere and meant well. Andrea almost didn't have the heart to crush what little innocence she was viewing the situation with. "Yes." Both Sebastian and Kenna looked at her in surprise at her answer, but she soldiered on despite the swirl of emotion in her gut. "But everyone is a bit foolish when love comes to play. To give yourself to someone in that way requires it." She glanced at Sebastian to find him staring at her with a hardened expression and ice blue eyes that made her breath catch. She dragged her eyes away and turned them to Kenna. "Sometimes it is okay to be a little foolish. To not think about consequences and simply throw yourself head first into passion. It's a wonderful feeling, in the moment. Just as long as you remember to never let that foolishness be the end of you."
Kenna nodded. "That's… helpful, Drea. Thank you." Andrea smiled at her and nodded her head. Kenna gestured to them. "You two look awfully comfortable. Are you being foolish as well?"
"No." They both said at the same time, though Andrea said the words with much more urgency. Bash looked at her in mild offense, causing Andrea to wince under the weight of such a gaze. "I simply meant that we wouldn't give anyone the wrong impression."
"Oh certainly not." Bash replied dryly, turning to Kenna. "Truly, she just doesn't wish for anyone to know about our rendezvous' in her chambers."
Andrea blushed furiously as Kenna stared at them in wide eyed amusement. "Sebastian!"
"Oh come now, Andrea, we shouldn't lie to the girl. She's distraught." Bash let a smirk curl onto his face. "A lady must never kiss and tell. It's a rule she seems to live by quite a lot these days."
Kenna laughed at his joke, unknowing that everything he said was, in fact, the truth. Annoyance bubbled within Andrea that almost burst forth had not a servant rushed to them then. The three redirected their attention to the harried older man who looked to Sebastian and Andrea either urgency. "Lady Andrea, Lord Sebastian. The Dauphin requests your presence at once."
Andrea frowned in confusion while Bash sighed heavily as if he were hearing a tune one too many times."Well, we never truly have a night off, do we?" Bash said, standing up and offering Andrea his hand for her to follow.
Andrea looked to Kenna worriedly. "Will you be alright by yourself?"
Kenna scoffed and waved her off, raising the wine slightly for emphasis. "Go. You've already made me feel better and I have Bash's wine. Can't leave Francis waiting."
Andrea nodded and took Bash's waiting hand so that he could pull her to stand. The servant led them outside where Francis stood waiting with Bash's black mare. The blonde prince paced back and forth impatiently, looking as if he were ready to burst forth from his very skin. He smiled brightly when his eyes laid on them.
"Bash! Andrea!" He greeted, coming to take Andrea's hand in excitement. "I've done it! I've convinced father to send troops to Scotland!"
Andrea beamed at him and threw her arms around his neck. "Francis that's wonderful!"
"Well done." Bash said, petting the snout of his horse affectionately. "Now Mary won't have to leave for Portugal."
Andrea blinked, confusion evident in her face. "I'm sorry, Mary was leaving for Portugal?"
"'Was" being the operative word." Francis told her, shooting her an apologetic smile along the way. "Tomas proposed to Mary on the promise that he would send Scotland aid. But now that France is fulfilling the alliance-"
"Mary has no reason to accept." Andrea nodded in understanding. "I'm glad for you, truly. When will the troops leave?"
"As soon as Bash can…"The words died off on Francis' lips as he narrowed his eyes at his brother suspiciously. Bash's eyes were glossed over, making his icy eyes especially bright. That, coupled with the slight teetering of his stance, would have made anyone uneasy. "Are you… drunk?"
Bash scoffed while Andrea laughed behind her hand. "Hardly. A few sips of wine, nothing more." He gave Andrea as look of contempt before he crossed to the water trough and dunked his head in.
Francis sighed as he watched him and shook his head. "You have to ride to the barracks to send the message. Then send word one you get to Scotland."
Andrea's shot between them in alarm. "You're going to fight as well?"
Bash slicked back his wet black hair and shrugged at the worried girl, puffing out a small breath of air at the shock the water provided to his inebriated system. "That is my duty on occasion. I'll be fine." She looked unconvinced, but she didn't argue with him. It wasn't her place to do such a thing anymore.
"Send a message to all six captains. Tell them that they'll board ship at Outreau." Francis looked over his brother as he prepared himself, worry very much clouding his features. "Are you sure you're alright to ride?"
Bash smirked at Francis and grabbed his brother's head affectionately. "I am a riding fiend, little brother. You'll be happy, Scotland will be happy, Mary will be happy and Mary will stay."
Francis smiled happily at the ever zealous man. "Just be careful."
Sebastian feigned innocence as he climbed aboard his horse. "Aren't I always?"
"If always means never." Francis retorted with a sigh before looking back at a quiet and concerned Andrea.
Andrea seemed to snap out of whatever small stupor she was in before she pursed her lips and moved to the side of Sebastian's horse. She stared up at him with concerned hazel eyes. "I won't bother telling you to be careful, since you won't listen. But… come back."
Bash frowned at her. "Andrea..."
"Don't argue, Bash, just… humor me." She said with a slight roll of her eyes. "Come back. Hopefully in one piece."
Bash nodded, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes filled with emotion that neither of them had time to comprehend. "I will. Keep an eye on Francis until then. We both know he's useless without you." She gave him a sad and tight lipped smile while Francis scoffed in the background. Then he turned his horse and galloped away into the night, leaving Andrea and Francis to watch him go.
Francis reached forward and gripped her hand in comfort before he pulled her to his side. "He'll be fine, Drea. Don't doubt that."
"I know." Andrea said with a sigh. "...One moment I want to tear that man limb from limb and the next I desperately hope that he won't get himself killed in the battlefield… is something wrong with me?"
"There is a lot wrong with you." He joked to her,, making her groan and bury her face into his shoulder. "But being in love with him isn't that…"
Andrea sighed and shook her head, untangling herself from Francis' arms. "Your mother will want a report, I best go to her." She reached up and patted Francis' cheek. "I'm proud of you for what you did. You'll be a wonderful king."
Francis smiled at her. "I couldn't have done it without you and your words."
"Of course you couldn't have." Andrea teased haughtily as they turned and began traveling back to the castle. "You heard your brother, you're useless without me, love. I pity the kingdom without my presence in your future court."
Francis shook his head. "Hopefully we'll never have to see what kind of king I'll be without you around."
"No," Andrea shook her head. "I hope not."
~For Country and Blood~
She was awoken by incessant knocking on her door that jarred her from her seemingly peaceful sleep. With a groan, she peeled her eyes open and stared at her ceiling in utter exasperation, her face fixed into a glare that would probably melt the very ceiling if she had the authority. It was barely dawn, if the dull gray hue of the world outside her window was anything to go by, and her body protested her premature awakening with a soreness in her back and an ache in her head.
The knocking began again and she groaned in annoyances before tearing herself from her bed. "Alright!" She shouted to whomever was in the other side as she slipped on her robe. She reached for the door, fully prepared to give the person on the other side of the door a piece of her mind. "Do you have any bloody idea what time it is-" she froze in her words and stared in shock as Mary stood in the place of her knocker, looking incredibly nervous and still in her sleeping robes. Andrea pulled herself from her stupor and lowered herself into a small curtsy. "Your Majesty, pardon me, I-"
Mary frowned. "Please don't tell me we're back to formalities." She said, disappointment clear in her tone.
Andrea looked up at her and shook her head, reaching up to smooth her surely unruly hair. "Not if you don't wish to be, no." Andrea said.
"I don't." Mary said with a small, apologetic smile. "I never had the opportunity to apologise for my words yesterday."
Andrea's eyes widened in surprise. "Apologise?"
Mary nodded. "Yes, for the way that I spoke to you about Nostradamus." Andrea surely hadn't been expecting that from the young woman in front of her, but she stayed silent. "I don't trust him, that is true, but I should have trusted you. You've been nothing but a good friend to me since I arrived, despite who your mistress is. And I doubted you. So," Mary took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
Andrea stared at the woman for a moment, trying to piece together what exactly she needed to say in that next moment. Guilt riddled her mind as usual whenever Mary talked of how good of a friend she was. She wasn't by any measure, Andrea could admit that to herself. But she wasn't an absolutely terrible person either. "Queens do not apologize."
Mary frowned at her. "What?"
"I appreciate the apology, truly." Andrea confirmed. "But… you were protecting your people and yourself from something you deemed to be a threat. That is what a royal should so, regardless of friend or foe. To apologise is to admit that you were wrong and… you weren't."
Mary stared at her with an unreadable expression, her lips pursed into a thin line. "Do the Valois' not apologize to you?"
"Should they ever have to?" Andrea retorted. "They provided everything I own. They have nothing to apologize for and never will. And neither should you, Mary."
Mary nodded, though she didn't look convinced. "It seems I'm learning new things here all the time. It's so unlike the nunnery, when they taught me to be good, forgiving and trusting. They said as long as I stayed in God's graces, that I would be alright."
"And that's very true, if you live in a nunnery." Andrea told her, leaning against her doorway as she gazed at the troubled royal. "But for a person who has many lives in her hands, one who was appointed by God… I suppose the rules change for you, don't they?"
"I suppose they do." Mary agreed with a sad smile. She sighed and wiped the sadness from her face, reaching forward to take Andrea's hand. "Would you like to come to the kitchens with me? I heard that Catherine ordered a new Venetian drink to the palace called "coffee" and I've been eager to try it."
Andrea smiled at her and nodded, bringing her shawl closer to her body. "I would like that."
~For Country and Blood~
After spending her morning with Mary and her ladies, Andrea had busied herself with tending to Catherine's needs. For once, things seemed to be a little brighter during her stay in court. She and Bash were in a good place, Francis had achieved whatever his heart desired and she was in Mary's good graces again. She didn't even try to mask her joy when Catherine raised a brow at her curiously, wondering what had come over her lady and ward.
She hummed lightly as she sewed a small tear in Catherine's dress while the Queen read from a book on the other side of the table. It was a particularly peaceful scene that was interrupted by a jarring and frantic knock at her door. Catherine's brow furrowed as her page came in, his face red and his eyes a bit wide.
"Your Majesty, the King's bastard, Sebastian, has returned to the castle." The page announced quickly.
Catherine glanced at the confused Andrea and flicked her wrist. "So soon? What happened with the English in Scotland?"
The page shook his head. "Forgive me, milady, I do not know. But Sebastian returned alone gravely injured. They are taking him to Nostradamus now."
While it took a moment for Andrea to process the words, Catherine was on her feet and waltzing out of her chambers with haste. Andrea's hands stilled and her very being felt as if someone had drowned her in ice cold water. The news didn't seem to make sense to her. "Sebastian" and "gravely injured" were two concepts that were to be foreign to one another and nothing more. And yet, as the news crashed over her and brought her back to the reality she didn't want, she realized that it was true. Her body began moving on its own accord, following Catherine's path to Nostradamus and the surely horrific sight that would meet her there. She lifted a hand to her chest, feeling her heart beating so fast that she was afraid it would stop altogether. It felt as if someone had reached inside to her lungs to squeeze then tightly, constricting any breaths that she might take.
She finally found herself walking into Nostradamus' chambers where the royals of castle Valois stood. Mary had a hand over her mouth, horrified and guilt ridden over the scene before her. Henry stood staring at his son in disbelief and grief, as any father who loved his son would.
"The cost of war will reach inside this castle." Catherine uttered as if she were remembering some kind of bad dream and Andrea finally pushed past Francis to look at the man that she so desperately loved.
The first thing that her eyes saw was blood as Nostradamus inspected the wound. It was gruesome and deadly and she herself had to cover her mouth in shock. Sebastian was sweating profusely, his head lolled to the side in the effort to simply stay alive. He was much too pale and his eyes looked gaunt and tired.
She didn't realize how long she had been staring before Catherine reached forward and tugged her to her side. The queen gave her a meaningful and comforting look but didn't say anything to her grieving lady.
"How is he?" Henry demanded.
Nostradamus shook his head. "He's gravely injured. I can tend to the wound, ease the pain but I make no promises."
Bash stirred then, his eyes flickering everywhere but to a specific target. "Father, the English… Rode out from Calais to face us… we never made it to the ships… It was a slaughter."
Andrea felt herself shaking, her breath constricting even further and Catherine simply held tighter to her hand, anchoring her to her spot. Andrea was grateful for the contact, fearing that if the Queen were to let go, she would sink down into the floor or float away.
"He shouldn't be talking." Nostradamus announced. "I'll give him a potion, put him to sleep. Clear the room, it's what's best for him.
"Bash, I'm so sorry." Francis begged, looking down at his brother with a mixture of shock and anguish. "I'm so sorry."
Henry straightened his stance then, returning to his facade of a empathetic king and not a worried father. "Come." With that he turned on his heel and marched from the room, bidding everyone to follow him.
Andrea barely felt herself move and she looked back at Sebastian, looking so helpless and weak laying on that bed. She shook her head. "Your Majesty, w-we can't leave him alone. He hates physicians, if he awakes alone with just Nostradamus prodding at him, he'll be so scared-"
Catherine, with a stern face, shook her head at the girl. "There's nothing we can do for him now. Let Nostradamus do his work, that is all we can do to help Sebastian."
Andrea nodded, but didn't bother tearing her eyes away Bash until Nostradamus shut the door behind them. She breathed in a shaky breath and wiped the tears from her eyes, attempting to make herself look as if nothing was wrong.
Catherine reached forward and stilled her hurried and shaking hands, nodding her head towards Mary as she retreated on the King's orders. "Go with Mary. I'll have orders for you later."
Andrea frowned at her. "Orders? Your majesty-"
"The English wouldn't just ride down from Calais unless someone had told them where our men were and what they were doing." Catherine informed her, a determined glint in her eye. Andrea's eyes widened in realization and horror. "There is a traitor in our midst, in my home and I will not rest until they are dealt with."
One could call Catherine de Medici anything they wished. A bitch, a murderer, even a tad selfish and vain. But they could never say that she didn't care fiercely for France and her home. She would very well spill blood for her country and burn the rest of the world to achieve it's peace and safety. It made her both terrifying and honorable and Andrea couldn't help but nod in agreement.
Catherine reached up and smoothed down her lady's fraying hair, a sigh escaping her lips. "Go. Prepare and make yourself presentable. Whomever they are, they will rue the day that they dared to cross the house of Valois."
A flood of determination filled Andrea and she gave her mistress a definitive nod. It felt as if a flame had been lit inside of her, one that was filled with rage and grief and a culmination of all of her pain. It was only fitting that it was the English who now caused her this pain, as they were literally at the center of most of it. They had taken her family's name and fortune and now it seemed they were trying to take the man she loved as well. Francis caught her eyes as she passed he and his father, and his hurt reflected her own. His brother was at death's door because of his decisions and while Andrea didn't blame Francis in the slightest, she knew that he thought that this was all of his fault.
She walked with purpose, going passed Mary who gave her a confused and almost startled look at the way she now carried herself. Andrea had a new plan to make the English pay for what they did.
And she wouldn't stop until justice reared it's beautifully ugly head.
~For Country and Blood~
Francis was in a state of frenzy and heartbreak. In a span of only a day, he had lost so much. Faith in himself and his future rule, the girl that he was falling in love with and quite possibly his brother, one of the closest friends he ever had. He had told Mary to wed the King of Portugal's son, Tomas, for her country. After the devastating loss of six companies of men, France couldn't afford to send her anymore aid. So as he knew it would be, they were to be forced apart. No matter how much they wanted to be together, no matter what either of them wanted for their lives. She would marry another and he would simply sit there and bear it.
He felt utterly alone. Alone in his heartbreak and in the loss of his countrymen. He could practically see every face of every man who had fell due to his decisions. His father had warned him that sending men to their deaths was a part of being king, but he had never truly understood those words. He had never felt the weight like he did now, and it was so heavy on his chest that he feared that it would crush him where he stood. It was why he was currently storming down the hall after his meeting with Mary.
He had kissed her because he knew that he would never be able to again. He would never be able to feel her softness, never able to run his fingers through her dark hair and enjoy her laugh while he flirted with her. He could only be a friend and that broke his heart. So, he only knew one person who understood his pain completely.
He knocked on her door furiously, his chest heaving up and down with labored breaths. He felt on the brink of something, of everything all at once. It was such an intense feeling that it brought tears to his eyes. The door opened to reveal Andrea standing there, wiping away tears of her own.
She seemed surprised to see him and concern immediately splayed across her already grief stricken features. "Francis? What are you doing here? What's wrong?"
Francis seemed unable to speak for a moment, like the words were stuck in his throat like a rock. But then they flooded forward almost involuntarily, as if a dam was bursting without his consent. "I told Mary to marry Tomas." He said, and Andrea's expression immediately softened into one of sympathy and -he thanked God then- understanding. He knew that she would be able to relate to his pain. "I told the girl that I was falling in love with to marry another because I was powerless to protect her and her country. I sent hundreds of men off to their deaths and what do I have to show for it? My brother is dying, my father is angry and my country looks weaker in the eyes of our enemies."
Andrea reached forward and took his hands, trying to calm the raging tides of emotion flooding through him. "Francis, it's not your fault."
"It's all my fault, Andrea." He shook his head, unable to help himself at that point. "These men died on my orders. My brother was injured following my orders. Had they not been there… had I not listened to my damn heart..."
Andrea didn't say anything, she simply pulled him into a hug and let him stay in her arms. He was comforted by the grip she had on him, grateful that he didn't feel so alone in his feelings that he was able to tell no one else. He wrapped his arms around her as well, inhaling her familiar scent and immediately put at ease by the childlike memories it brought forth.
"Sebastian will be alright." She murmured to him.
He sighed into her hair. "How do you know?"
"Because he's too stubborn." She tried to joke, earning a small laugh from her best friend. "He would quite literally challenge the devil himself to a duel to come back to us. I know he would."
There was such hope and optimism in her voice that he almost believed her as well. But her words still didn't ease the burdens of kingship for him. "What am I going to do, Andrea?"
She sighed and stepped back, looking up at him with sympathetic eyes. She reached up her hand and pushed a blonde curl from his forehead. "You're going to let her go, Francis." She told him, though she dreaded doing so when that anguished look spread across his face. "You have no choice. She will marry Tomas and become the Queen of Portugal. She will have everything that she needs for herself and her country and eventually you'll find yourself a queen that I'm sure will be just as lovely."
"Lovely, but not her." Francis answered bitterly.
Andrea shook her head at him. "Don't cast your future wife in Mary's shadow before you have even met her. That wouldn't be fair to her or you." She tried to give him a hopeful smile but it only came across as sad to him. "I understand what it is like to give up someone you love because of family and duty. You know I do… had I not needed to provide for my family, I'd happily be Sebastian de Poitier's wife right now…"
Francis' gaze softened. "Drea…"
"I'm simply saying that I know what you're going through." She explained further. "It hurts… it hurts more than anything, but we do what we have to for something much greater than our wants and desires. In my case, it's my family and their wellbeing. In yours, it's your country. I will help you in that burden as you have helped me in mine but…" she sighed and shook her head. "You have to find solace in your situation. No matter how you feel, no matter what you want, this is what is best for both of you. Please understand that."
Francis sighed and cast his eyes to the ceiling of her bedroom. "... It'll hurt."
She nodded. "It will."
"I'll probably never love anyone like I love her."
"Probably not."
"But… this is what's best." He finally lamented with a heavy and defeated sigh.
She nodded again. "Yes, it is." She rubbed his hand soothingly. "Things will work out, Francis, I promise you. She might not be your wife, but Mary will always be your friend, I'm sure. Just as Sebastian will always be mine." She rolled her eyes playfully. "No matter how stubborn and aggravating they both can be."
Francis laughed, sounding a bit more lighthearted. "Let's not forget lacking a clear sense of self preservation."
"That too." Andrea chuckled before she tugged at his hand, leading her further into her room. "Come on, I think we're both in need of a glass of wine that I stole from the kitchens."
Francis grinned. "Do all of your solutions include wine?"
"Well, it does make everything better in the end."
The prince sighed and watched as she began to pour the wine. "Thank you for… all that you do, Andrea." He told her, honestly and without hesitation. "I don't think I tell you often enough how loved and appreciated you are here."
Andrea gave him a small smile and handed him his goblet. "I love and appreciate you too, Dauphin." She said. "Now drink up. Tomorrow's problems are tomorrow's problems and they should stay there. Tonight, we will revel in what we have. And be glad for it."
With those words, she took a hearty gulp from her goblet and began their night of drinking and forgetting about their momentary sorrows. It was all they could do.
A/N I cried for Francis. Why do I do these things to these characters?