The following morning, Bash made his way to the throne room. It would be empty at this time of day whilst everyone was at breakfast, but he knew his father would be there, waiting to spar with him.

"Good morning," Henry greeted him, tossing a sparring sword at him.

"Good morning, Father," he replied, snatching the wooden blade from the air before it had a chance to connect with his head.

"I see your reflexes haven't gone soft in all this time."

"I was on bed rest for a week," he defended himself.

"For a week, yes, but you'd missed many of our matches before that. What have you been up to? Or, should I say who's skirt? Is it slender Lady Charlotte or plump Lady Isabelle with breasts like two pigeons?"

"If I told you, you might poach. You've got a liking for pigeon, as I recall," he smirked before taking his first swing. The battle began, each kicking the other this way and that when their blades met and locked at their equal strength. After an hour-long match, the pair both breathing quite heavily, they took a break.

"So, what has kept you from training for so long? It's not just your injury," he nodded towards his stomach.

He pondered for a moment, trying to figure out the best wording before proceeding. "I'm in love and I've come to ask my king's permission to ask for her hand in marriage."

"In love, eh?" he straightened up. "Who is this mystery girl of yours that takes so much of your time and attention?"

"Nostradamus's pupil, Mona."

Henry laughed incredulously. "So, a servant then? You want to marry a servant. How do you know she's not just trying to worm her way into the monarchy through the bedroom?" he asked, gesturing with his sparring sword.

"Until recently, she was under the impression I worked in the stables. Things took their course until I was outed as your son when I was injured."

Henry chuckled. "Rather difficult to keep a secret when your physician is your lover."

"Not lover. I've gone about this properly."

"So, you've already courted her then?" he asked, surprised. "Without my permission?"

"A courtship is nothing that cannot be undone, were you to take issue with it. Her parents know nothing. Her brother works in the kitchen. I asked him to be her escort."

Henry grumbled with dissatisfaction before sighing deeply. "She's still a commoner, Bash."

"And I, a bastard. You could not pawn me off to any country if you wanted to as I have no claim to the throne," he reasoned. "Father," he pleaded, "were you not in line for the throne, would you not have married my mother at the first chance? She was a peasant girl with nothing in her heart but her love for you."

"She since become much more," he countered, "but I see your point," he conceded."Does she make you happy?"

"Yes."

"Then, as your father and your king, I give permission. As the son who asks for nothing, I cannot deny you this. Go live the life your brother and I will never have the luxury to."

"Thank you, father," he bowed, his grin hiding behind his long bangs.

After breakfast, he bounded down the steps to the kitchen. Glancing around, he spotted the head chef and headed straight toward him. Leith's gaze followed him until he noticed Bash pointing right at him, then the chef nodding. He quickly looks back down at the dough he'd been kneading.

What's he doing here? He knows Mona doesn't work in the kitchen anymore.

"Leith," Bash called out to him as he made his way over. "You've been given the day off with pay."

"What? Why?" he asked, baffled.

"I need your council."

"Council?" he asked, wiping his hands on his apron before removing it. "What kind of council? Are you planning another outing already?"

"Something like that."

The pair strode out to the gardens, Leith choosing to lean up against a nearby tree. "So, whatcha need?"

Bash took a deep breath. "I would like to ask your permission for Mona's hand in marriage."

"You ask the king?"

"Already done."

Leith guffawed. "So what d'ya need my permission for? Not like my say will matter."

"Your opinion matters to her, so it matters greatly to me."

"You realize that one's a bit headstrong, yeah? I doubt she'd let me stop her if I wanted to anyhow," he laughed. "Tell you what, promise me two things and I'll give my permission."

Bash seemed surprised. "What is it?"

"Promise me you'll never lie to her again."

"That was always the plan. The second?"

"Don't ever make my sister cry again. She's always been the strong one of the family. The last time I saw her fall apart like that was when our father died. She was twelve and I'd never seen her cry like that until you came along. You're an alright bloke, but I'd risk the chopping block for her."

"Never again," he agreed solemnly.

"Then you have my permission."

"Thank you," he broke into a grin. "Any pointers on the asking portion?"

"She's shy. Ask her in private. Public grand gestures will only serve to make her anxious."

"Noted. Now, to tell Mother."

"Same here. Dunno about yours, but mine'll be over the moon," he chuckled.

"She'll be disappointed I didn't marry for power," he admitted with an exasperated sigh, "but she'll be fine with it. Despite everything my mother has done to hold her place as the king's mistress, she loves me and wants my happiness more than anything."

"I don't envy ya there," Leith smirked.

"Some days, I wish I had a simpler life."

Leith clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You're marrying my sister. She's got an independent streak a mile wide and a stubborn one to match when she thinks she's in the right. Good luck on that," he snickered.

Bash smirked, then took his leave, heading up to the physician's quarters.

"Back so soon?" Nostradamus looked him over. "Is the injury still bothering you, or are you here for something else?"

Mona popped her head out from behind him, still stirring the cauldron before her. "Come to visit me at work? I thought you'd seen enough of these walls for a while."

"I certainly have. I thought it proper to tell you in person that I'll be leaving for a while. I should be back in a week, hopefully sooner, should the weather permit."

"Leaving?" she asked, her eyebrows raised. Nostradamus took over stirring for her as she nodded as thanks. "Where are you going?"

"Visiting my mother. She resides in a property my father gave her some time ago. I'll come back to you as soon as I can."

"I await your return," she leaned up to kiss him, her hand resting on his chest as he pulled her in by the waist. When they pulled apart, he bid them both farewell and headed to the stables to ready Nocturn for travel.

"My son!" Diane greeted him with her arms outstretched. "It's been weeks since I last saw you, but it feels like a year."

"Hello, Mother," he smiled warmly, pulling her in for a hug.

"Let me look at you," she pulled away, assessing him. "Have you been eating enough? Come, sit! You must be ragged after that long ride." The two of them sat by the fireplace, a table between them. A servant quickly brought them supper and a glass of wine each. "So, anything new at court?" she asked, popping a grape into her mouth.

"Yes and no," he started hesitantly.

She raised a brow. "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"Nothing is wrong. Surprisingly, everything seems to be going right thus far," he smiled to himself.

"Well?Out with it! Tell me everything," she urged him excitedly.

"I've fallen in love," he explained, "and I've been permitted to marry her by Father as well as her family."

"My boy is finally in love!" she exclaimed. "Who is she? Where did you meet her?" she started firing her questions faster than he could answer.

"Slow down," he chuckled. "Her name is Mona. She's Nostradamus's pupil."

"Nostradamus? She works under the court physician?"

"Yes."

"So, she's not a royal then."

"Neither were you," he pointed out.

"Yes, but what about-"

"Mother," he sighed, pressing his hand to his forehead tensely. "I don't want power. Every day, I curse that I was born the son of the king. I don't want it and never have."

"Sebastian, it is not power for power's sake that I want for you, merely protection. Your father could change his mind on a whim."

"If he does, I'd be content to live the rest of my life a farmer, poor but content."

"You love her that much?"

"Yes."

"Then I already know the true reason for your visit," she smiled, trying to swallow down her concerns. "Here," she slid a simple, single-gemmed ring from her hand, pulling his hand to her to place it in his open palm. "You can't very well ask this woman to wed you without a ring, can you?"

He closed his hand around the ring, then returned his gaze to hers. "Thank you, mother."

"I know you're a sweet, sentimental man. I just hope it fits," she smiled.

"She's full-figured, so I will likely need to have the gem rehoused on a new band," he admitted.

"That's your ring, soon to be hers. Do what you need with it," she waved dismissively. "Now, tell me about your soon-to-be bride," she said, eagerly leaning toward him.