Chapter 30

"Mary, come on!" Francis said more forcefully. I felt my body being pulled away from the chaos happening in front of me, but for some reason, I felt paralyzed. So much was happening I couldn't process anything. "Mary!" Francis pulled at my arm to try and gain my attention. I turned my head toward him to see what he thought of all of this, but what I found was not what I was expecting. Francis' face showed no interest for his Father. He looked rather scared and worried due to my absent-mindedness. "Francis..?" I didn't hide the concern from my voice when I spoke. "Mary, come with me now," Francis demanded as he pulled at my arm and dragged me toward him. We began to walk away from turmoil behind us. A once happy celebration was turned into one full of pandemonium.

"Francis, what is-"

Francis cut me off but suddenly stopping. He looked around us for a moment, checking each and every spot that could possibly be occupied. "Did you drink the wine?" Francis turned toward me after his search and examined my face. My heart was pounding and I was so confused. I didn't know what was happening to Henry and suddenly Francis acted strangely. "I did not drink anything." I paused and reached for Francis but he backed away from me. "What is going on?" Francis slightly turned his body toward me but didn't look me in the eyes. The sun now was dipped below the horizon. The fleeting colors of dusk had started to fade away. This cast a dark shadow on Francis' face, but from what I could see he held a serious face. One that I have never seen before on him. "Francis-"

"Everything I do is for you." He paused, "And now for our child." Suddenly, my anger began to rise as the confusion I held only continued to get stronger as Francis hid behind those words. Somewhere inside of me was telling me that Francis did something, or that he was put up to do something. Maybe Henry didn't collapse because of poor health or the heat. Maybe, it was because of the wine. It felt as though I was hit and all of these pieces were falling into place. "What did you do, Francis?"

Francis checked our surroundings again, only making me feel worse, before turning back toward me. "I drugged the wine."

"You what?" I stared blankly at him, unable to comprehend what he said to me just now. It was one thing to believe something, another to actually hear it from his own mouth. Francis' expression changed to one more aggravated as he scrunched his brows down and clenched his jaw. "Mary, let us go inside."

Francis grabbed my arm and gently tugged at it as he began walking toward the castle. As we walked I tried to fully understand what was happening, and what Francis did. There was no way Francis would do this by himself. No way he would drug his own Father to his death. He had to of been put up to this. My mind swarmed me with unanswered questions as we walked down the halls. Francis finally stopped walking once we reached our chambers. When we were both inside he swiftly closed the door behind him, but he didn't turn toward me. He continued to stand facing the door as his right hand cradled the door handle. "I'm sorry I did not discuss this with you. I couldn't stand it any longer. The look on your face when you walked away earlier, it killed me. You had just given up on us," Francis whispered.

"So, your father died because of a pathetic look on my face?" I growled. There was just no way. No way that Francis would do this on his own. He was better than that.

Francis whipped around toward me and raised his hands defensively. "I did not kill my father. The drug should only put him to sleep for a while. Like a comatose state." Francis attempted to explain to me. There was just no way, I told myself again. Francis would never do something this dangerous. "Francis, you're so foolish! You are the next in line for the throne and you do something like this? Did you do this for me or for yourself?"

Francis watched me carefully as I took a step toward him. "Did you not think I could deal with this by myself?"

"No, I didn't. You had given up, Mary. You didn't even try to come up with a way to help yourself. You were willing to give yourself and our child to him." Francis shouted at me. I retracted that step I had taken and stared at Francis.

"He threatened to kill Marceau and our unborn child. Francis, I have only been doing what is right. Did you even think of the consequences? What if someone finds out what you did?" I asked him angrily.

"I don't care, as long as you and the baby are safe," Francis said with a long sigh.

"I care, Francis! I care about you, but what you did was inconceivable!"

Francis went quiet for a moment. Then he finally moved away from the door and made his way over to one of the wooden chairs next to the desk. He slumped down into the chair and placed his hand on his forehead, covering his eyes from my sight. "I didn't know what to do. I just knew I didn't want to lose you." Francis's voice almost cracked at the last word, but he managed to keep his composure. "I only put him to sleep for a while. It will give us enough time to figure out what to do next."

If Francis had only given enough to put Henry to sleep why did he stop breathing? Was that what the drug did to put someone in a coma-like state? None of it seemed right.

I looked over at Francis who was running his hands through his hair. He looked like he was a mess due to all of this. He was trying to protect the baby and me, and for him, that meant doing anything. I was just scared that all of this was going to backfire on him. He wasn't thinking logically and he may have to pay the price for it and that was the alarming part.

I walked toward Francis and kneeled in front of him. My knee pressed into the stone flooring below me. His face was cupped in his hands, blocking me from seeing the face I longed for. "I don't want to see you get punished for this," I whispered gently. Francis slightly lifted his hands, then ran them through his blonde hair again, allowing me to see his face once more. "I'm sorry, Mary. I just didn't see any other solution. But now we have the chance to think of a better way to handle this." I truly hoped for Francis' sake that was true and we did have time. I will do anything for Francis and he should know that by now, but things like this are out of my control.

I was brought out of my own thoughts when Francis placed the palm of his hand on my cheek. "I know this is dangerous but I will do anything to protect you." I nodded at Francis' encouraging words. I wanted to understand Francis' reasoning, however, for right now, I don't think I could. Francis stood from the wooden chair and kneeled down on the hair floor with me. He wrapped his arms around me pulled me into a warm embrace. "I love you, Mary. I'll think of something better."

His words were comforting but I didn't know what could possibly be better at this point. Francis was planning on killing his father before Gilbert and Marceau kidnapped us. I don't think Francis thought there was another option. "All right, Francis," I responded. I wanted to trust him and believe what he was saying was the truth.

There was a heavy knock on the door that drew Francis and me out of our hug. "Who is it?" Francis asked once he put his attention on the door.

"Francis, open up." It was Catherine. Francis bolted up immediately and swung the door open for his mother. Catherine quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She looked around the room, then looked back at Francis. She was so pale and the expression on her face was much different from one I have ever seen on her before. I noticed that her fingers were tightly clutching a wooden cross in her hands. "I don't have much time. If anyone notices we're gone we might seem suspicious."

"What's going on?" Francis asked Catherine nervously. Catherine slowly turned toward Francis. She looked as though she had aged 10 years since I had last seen her, which was only a little earlier today. Her grip tightened around her cross pendant before she spoke.

"Henry is dead."

I remember that those words felt like a miracle once before. I was conflicted if I should feel relief when I heard those words just now, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case. The man who had tried to drive a wedge between Francis and me was now dead. There was no questioning it anymore. We didn't hear this from an unreliable source. Hundreds of people watched as their king collapsed in front of them during a time of celebration. Instead of feeling relief I felt terror. Francis had over dosed his father at a public event. Did anyone see him? Could they trace it back to him? Those were the type of questions I asked myself when Catherine told Francis and I King Henry was dead.

"How much did you put into the wine?" Catherine almost shouted at Francis. She was trying her hardest to keep a leveled head. Francis was practically in a state of shock as he stared at his mother. "I poured the whole vial you gave me into the wine." Francis stuttered out. I turned toward Catherine. So she was in on this as well. Was she the one who told Francis to do this?

"I said a couple drops! Not the whole vial!" Catherine shouted. Catherine sighed in frustration and wrapped her arm around her stomach. She began to pace back and forth in front of the closed door. "There is going to be some residue on Henry's lips. I'm going to have to dispose of the wine bottle and find a way to erase all the signs of the drug." Catherine thought out loud. How could she be so calm about killing her own husband? She was the reason Francis was even in this mess! If someone saw him lurking around in even the smallest way they could blame him.

"How could you put your own son up to this?" I growled at Catherine. I stood up from my kneeled position and took a step toward her. "You're willing to put your own son in danger? You made him do something as insane as this and now it's backfired!"

Francis' eyes lit up from my sudden explosiveness. "Mary." He tried, but I wasn't done. Catherine had done so many disgusting things and was willing to put her whole family at risk while doing them. "Francis is the next heir in line and then you do something like this! Not only did you put his right to rule in danger, but his life-"

"Mary!" Francis cut me off. I whipped toward him to find him staring at me in horror. "My mother didn't come up with this. I came up with it all."

My eyes widened. Catherine chuckled and put her hand on her hip. "You should really get to know my son before spouting nonsense, my dear."

I ignored Catherine as I watched Francis take a few steps toward me. He stopped only a couple feet away from me. "I asked my mother to help me, but she only supplied me with the drug. Nothing else."

I didn't understand. How could Francis do this? He already had so much to think about and now he does something like this? I couldn't believe it.

Abruptly my mind flickered to something else. Marceau was still trapped in the dungeon. I looked at Catherine, then back to Francis. "Figure this out on your own, Francis," I told Francis as I began marching toward the door. His bright blue eyes flickered back to me in shock. "Where are you going?"

"To release Marceau." My heart tightened at the thought of the poor man being chained up. I didn't care about Francis' situation, especially since he got himself in this to begin with. Marceau was an innocent man that didn't deserve to be held any longer.

"It's too early for that. We need to go back and deal with this situation." Francis tried to explain. I rolled my eyes at the door in front of me. "We don't have to do anything." I paused as I turned toward Francis. "You do."

I turned and left the room before I could see Francis' face. I was furious with him. I know that the things Henry were doing were absolutely psychotic, but Francis, Henry's son, murdered him. These things do not go away so easily and I don't think Francis understands that. Well, we'll see where this problem takes us in the future.

I stood outside of Marceau's prison cell and stared at the only thing blocking me from releasing him. As I held the key to the door's lock I found myself trembling. What kind of reaction would a man have after being locked up? Just a little while ago Henry said; "I wonder how much more Marceau can take?"

I slowly lifted the key up and placed it in the keyhole. I hesitated to turn it but managed to muster the courage to turn the key. The door unlocked with the sound of a click. I lifted my right hand and placed my palm on the old, wooden door. A single push was enough to drive the door back.

"Marceau..?" I whispered in dismay. I covered my mouth with horror as my eyes attempted to take everything in all at once. Marceau's ankles and wrists were cuffed and connected to a metal chain. One chain was connected to the wall behind him while another was driven into the ceiling above, keeping him in a standing position. His once white shirt was covered in blood. It hung loosely on his arms, keeping his shoulders and back exposed. His head hung low and his dark hair was disarranged downward, disabling me from seeing his face.

"Marceau?" I called again. There was no response. I reached my hand up and toward Marceau. Without warning, his head lazily lifted upward and I watched as he managed to lift his eyes to my own. All I could see in his light brown eyes was sorrow. It seemed like he was barely hanging on. His tired eyes looked at me then at the door behind me. "You shouldn't be here," Marceau warned. I gently shook my head and placed my hand on my forehead. "Henry is dead," I whispered quietly. Marceau attempted to bring his head up even more but was unsuccessful. He winced in pain. "Is that right?" He asked. His voice was hoarse and barely loud enough for me to hear. I nodded but then realized he couldn't see me. "Yes," I responded.

"I'm sorry to say I feel no remorse," Marceau whispered I sighed. "Nor can I." I watched as Marceau's lip carefully curled as he smiled warmly at me.

"Let's get you out of here, Marceau."