Mary Queen of Scots
Francis was falling. Falling to the ground before me, his life escaping him in the river of blood that escaped from his chest. I knew I was dreaming. It was the same dream every night, but so very, very different. It didn't matter if a swordsman stabbed his chest, or poison found its way into his dinner but he always died. No matter what I did, no matter how I tried to warn him, I still watched my love die. I awoke with a gasp as Francis' head hit the cold ground, eyes empty. I glanced around my empty room. Had I not sent Francis away he would be by my side now, holding me in his arms, comforting me from the monsters that plagued my nightmares. But if I hadn't sent Francis away, these dreams wouldn't be dreams, one of them would be real. I heard a commotion out the window. The whinnying of horses and the sounds of men shouting. The new English envoy must be arriving. I turned uncomfortably in my bed. I had gone to lie down earlier than usual, setting aside my evening bath in order to try to sleep. I hadn't been sleeping hardly at all thanks to these dreams. I sighed. It was no use. I wrapped a robe around me and stepped into the hall. I asked the guard to fetch my ladies in waiting and after closing the door I pinned my hair up and divested myself of my clothing, wrapping myself in my thin linen sheet. The ladies arrived and I apologized, saying I had decided to bathe after all. I had given my ladies the night off and I didn't know these maids but it was no matter.
"Very good, my lady," one of the maids responded, curtsying as she ran out to fetch everything they would need. As the water heated, my ladies lined the copper tub with several thick sheets and sprinkled handfuls of the tiny lavender petals between each sheet. After they poured the hot water into the tub I slowly sank down into the hot bliss. Sweet smelling steam filled the room and I nodded at the ladies allowing them to leave. "I shall send for a man to get rid of the water and tub when I am finished. You ladies may leave for the night." They each curtsied and walked out of the door in a single file line. I closed my eyes and sank into the tub, sighing. A loud scuffle broke me out of my daze. I turned my head, startled at the closeness of the noise. Catherine had entered my chambers, a knife in her hand and murder in her eyes. I opened my mouth to call out but it was too late, the knife was against my throat.
"Don't call out," fear filled my body and I couldn't help but shiver a little despite the warm water around me. Catherine threw a bit of powder into the water and it began to bubble menacingly.
"This is madness," I whispered, fear clouding every particle of my being.
"A few days ago I would have thought so, now I have an alternative, we both must die." She hissed quietly in my ear.
"You've already lost." I insisted. "You have nothing to gain from killing me." She responded, her words dripping with vengeful hate. "I mean your children no harm!" I begged.
"What do your good intentions matter?" She laid out her plan delicately, explaining the reasons behind her insanity. I coughed, watching the bubbles pooling at my feet. Her speech went cloudy, I could only understand bits and pieces. "My children's inheritance restored, I will kill you," more words left her mouth but I couldn't focus on them. She was about to kill me. The women who had practically raised me, who was more a mother to me than my own was about to kill me. I shook my head, trying to clear the smoke from my mind. I could feel Catherine fading beside me, her words getting softer, her plan making less and less sense. "I promise that you'll feel no pain." The cold knife disappeared from my throat but I took no comfort in its leaving. I couldn't breathe. I was going to die. And I was too weak to even call out for help. The water was bubbling slightly, the steam rising from it poisoning the room more and more with every passing second. I knew Catherine was lying on the floor. I could see her back, moving ever so slightly, still breathing, but she was weak. If I could outlast her, if I could just hold on until her death, what was I thinking? It wouldn't matter who lasted longer, I would die. The poison was pooling in my lungs and I could feel the lethargic grogginess covering me. Air. I needed air. I couldn't do it. I was sinking lower and lower beneath the water, my muscles too weak to stop this. My head became completely submerged and I could feel all the air leaving my lungs.
I kept my eyes open, watching the ceiling above the water's surface. A face appeared above the water's surface. Clarissa. She disappeared and the surface of the water began to ripple as air began to rush across its surface. Air. I needed air. If only I could reach the surface. Clarissa reappeared and her hands sank down into the water and pulled me up to the edge of the tub. I gasped at the cold, sweat air that poured in, drifting across my face. Clarissa was kneeling over Catherine, whispering something unintelligible to her. I couldn't make out what she said but it affected Catherine greatly. Horror covered Catherine's face as she pushed Clarissa away.
"Get away from me! GO! Get out!" Catherine screamed. I saw Clarissa's face as she ran past me down the open corridor that was pumping cool air into the room. It was no wonder she hid in the shadows. I wished to call out, to thank her but before I could find the strength she disappeared. A guard burst through the door, looking on the tableau he was presented with in shock. Others followed and I should have been strongly embarrassed at my appearance but I was too busy breathing. Sweet, sweet air. Other guards burst in, no one quite sure what to do. Finally Bash entered, running to my side. As I slipped back towards the water's surface, his hands found my arms and he pulled me to my feet, lifting me from the tub. The guards averted their eyes but I wasn't thinking about any of that, only the feeling of Bash holding me, pulling me from that death trap and into the safety of his arms. He took a sheet off the bed and wrapped it around me, drying my drenched skin as best as he could.
Thank God that Bash was here. He would protect me. He was here for me. His hand cupped my chin as he looked directly at me. His eyes asked the questions his lips couldn't.
"Catherine tried to kill me." I gasped out, still in shock. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled me from the copper tub. My legs nearly gave out from beneath me but before I could fall Bash's arms wrapped around my back, holding me up and supporting my weight. He held me against him, the water dripping off me and drenching his shirt but he didn't seem to notice and I wasn't about to volunteer to leave his grasp. Bash yelled something to the guards, ordering Catherine to be chained up and locked away. Catherine retaliated with words that blurred together and didn't seem to matter until she uttered one phrase. One awful and hateful phrase.
"He's a man of secrets. He will be your ruin!" I could feel Bash's anger at the words as he stood beside me.
"I know what kind of man he is." I spat back furiously. "And I have made the perfect choice," I assured her sounding far more powerful than I felt at this moment, "because together we have killed you." The guards dragged her away and I turned back to face Bash.
"Mary are you alright?" Bash asked, his face mere inches from mine. "Mary, what did she do to you?" his voice while oozing out comfort and sweetness for my sake was trying desperately to hide the anger and fury that he held for Catherine.
"Poison. In the tub." I breathed out. "She had a knife against my throat, and then, I don't know!" I sobbed into his shirt. "My God Bash, I don't know, all of a sudden you were here and I could breathe again." My tears hardly worsened the water that soaked him and yet I still tried to wipe my tears off him. My legs began to give out once more until Bash swept me up and cradled me like a child. I nestled my head into Bash's chest as he carried me out of the room and to the infirmary. My eyes were dropping. The gentle lull of his stride rocking me like an infant is rocked by its wet nurse.
"Bash, I'm so tired." I said.
"No. No come on Mary, you have to stay awake. Do you understand me? Stay with me Mary!" But my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.
Bash Bastard of France
"No. No come on Mary, you have to stay awake. Do you understand me? Stay with me Mary!" But despite my pleading her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep in my arms. I began to run. I needed help. I ran past my father and the group of men he was talking to and they each turned to look at me but I had no time for them, I only worried about the girl in my arms. I had never run faster and I continued to sprint through the hallways until I reached Nostradamus.
"You! The queen has poisoned Mary. You know what she may have used-make this right or I swear I shall have your head." Nostradamus nods as if he is used to these such threats. I immediately feel sorry for my words and I know Mary would be ashamed of me at that moment. "Forgive me Nostradamus. I didn't mean that." I say finally, my heart still beating faster than it ever has for this girl lying before us.
"There is nothing to forgive. People say things they do not mean when their hearts are worried for their beloved ones. No matter-I shall do my best to help Queen Mary." He looked at her tongue and felt at her wrist and palms. "She is simply exhausted. She will sleep soundly now, but I will make a drink for her strength when she awakens. Now that she breathes fresh air, I believe she will be fine." He turned to the table behind him and began pulling herbs and bowls from their places, mixing them together too quickly for me to follow. My father burst through the door.
"Sebastian, what the hell is going on?" he asked, looking down at Mary, lying weekly on Nostradamus' table.
"Your wife poisoned her." I snarled. "Catherine held a knife to her throat and poured poison in her bathwater." I knelt down at Mary's side and held her hand. Henry swore.
"Scotland will have our heads if she dies. Not to mention she is our only chance at England." I glared at my father.
"Yes, that is the true problem here. Let's forget that there is a dying girl lying here." Before he could respond another voice chimed in. A voice that sent a chill through my veins. The voice of a man I was terrified to face. The voice of a man who I had rather hoped I wouldn't have to see for a very long time.
"Father, what is going on?" Francis stepped into the room and looked at me. "Why are we here?" it was then that he noticed whose hand I was clutching. "Good God, Mary!" He called out, kneeling at my side. "Is this how you protect her, brother?" he spat angrily in my direction. "Is this how you allow your fiancée to be treated?"
"This is the work of your mother, bastard." I returned just as angrily. Hissing my nickname that he now held as his own. How dare he suggest had allowed this to happen to Mary?
"What are you talking about?" He returned. "What purpose would that have served? I suspect that this attack had far more to do with trying to stop a bastard from taking the throne of England."
"As Catherine, told Mary what her plan was I believe I have far better knowledge of what is happening. This was your mother's vengeance. Keeping her precious bastard son safe."
"Stop this." My father's booming voice filled the room. He called a servant. "Fetch the Queen Mary's ladies in waiting, they would want to be here." I was slightly surprised to find that even in the midst of this nightmare Kenna was on his mind. "Sebastian, tell me exactly what you saw with your own eyes." Without letting go of Mary's hand as I spoke, I spat the words bitterly out of my lips.
"She wasn't going to take her evening bath. She hadn't been sleeping well and she wanted to get some rest." I gave Francis a short glance, knowing that it was the nightmares about his death that had kept her up in the first place. "I saw her off to bed and took a short ride. When I returned I saw several maids hurrying in and out of her room. I stopped one to ask if something was wrong and she said that the Queen had decided to bathe after all. I returned to my room but something didn't feel right. I couldn't figure out why the maids were helping Mary rather than her own ladies so I finally returned to ask again but when I arrived the guards were all gone and no one was outside her room. I ran off to fetch some guards and when I returned I heard a crashing noise yet when we knocked and called out no one responded. I ordered them to enter the room and when we did Catherine was lying on the floor, yelling at a girl who disappeared into the night and Mary was barely hanging onto the edge of the tub, slipping back under the water's surface." My voice broke and my gaze returned to Mary's sleeping face, calmed by her peaceful expression. "The damn guards were all looking away properly as Mary nearly drowned. I picked her up and wrapped her in this sheet and she told me that Catherine had tried to poison her, that she held a dagger to her throat. Then Catherine yelled that she had chosen the wrong man," I could feel Francis stiffen beside me, waiting to hear how Mary had responded to those accusations. I desperately wanted to tell him what she had said, wanted to say that Mary had chosen me, but I wasn't sure I could do that to my brother. "Then she responded and I ordered that Catherine be taken to the dungeons. Mary nearly fainted and I brought her here. On the way she fell asleep and now Nostradamus is making her a tonic for when she awakens." I took a deep breath. My heart was pounding like a horses hooves against a winter ground. And I looked down at Mary's face, my free hand running through her hair. She turned her head in her sleep and muttered my name.
"Bash." My hand moved from her hair to cup her cheek. "I am here Mary. Sleep. I am here." Before my father could respond to my story or Francis could hit me as it appeared he very desperately wished to do at this moment, Mary's ladies burst through the door.
"Oh my God!" Kenna's voice broke and Lola and Greer rushed to Mary's side. Francis and I were unceremoniously pushed out of the way. I let out a soft grin, knowing that Mary was in good hands. Kenna's hands were shaking and my father held her close, comforting her. It was odd, to see my father holding a women younger than I in his arms but I knew that everyone in this room cared about Mary (or in my father's case at least about someone who cared about Mary) and she would be safe. Bringing her fingers to my lips I kissed her hand and retreated to the kitchen where I knew I could find ale. Francis was following me, I knew he was. And sure enough, I had barely taken two swigs from my bottle before his face appeared before mine.
"Brother." I nodded, acknowledging his presence and offering him a drink from my flagon. He looked at it angrily, as though he might take it from me and throw it against the wall. But after a deep, shuddering breath he took it from me and tipped a large portion of the contents down his throat. We both sank to the ground next to each other, both thinking of the girl we loved, lying in the other room surrounded by her friends. We drank the flask dry and sat in silence.
"Tell me the truth Bash," he said finally. "What did she say to my mother?" I looked away from him, still attempting to avoid this moment.
"What do you mean?"
"When my mother told her she chose the wrong man, tell me her exact words." I looked at the floor.
"There's no need to go into all of that. I don't really remember anyway, it was all such a blur-"
"Don't!" He yelled, throwing the empty bottle against the stone wall, smashing it into a hundred people. "Bash, tell me what she said."
"She said she knew exactly what kind of man she had chosen and that it had been the perfect choice. Because together we had killed Catherine." Francis' head hung low and I could feel his anger shaking. If he tried to kill me now I wasn't sure I would even try to stop him. I loved Mary. I would do anything for her and I would fight anyone to make sure she was safe and loved, and I would do anything to be with her but this man was my little brother. We had grown up together and I had always protected him. And her I was now shoving a dagger in his heart. His eyes looked up into mine.
"You may have her now, you may get the privilege of marrying her, and she may have chosen you now," he began, fury fueling his voice. "But you weren't always her choice. You weren't her choice every time her lips touched mine. You weren't her choice when we met in the forest and held each other for hours," Francis stood and looked down at me, "and you weren't her choice when we slept together." He staggered off swiping a new bottle from the shelves as I processed.
Of course I knew they had kissed. Hell I had seen them kiss. I knew that they had exchanged their vows of love, and I knew that Mary had only chosen me because she wished to save Francis. All this I had known and accepted in the chance of having her all to myself. Yet the knowledge that my brother had taken her first hurt me in a way I would never have expected. As her fiancée that honor was to have been mine. Would she compare us on our wedding night? Would she prefer my brother to me? Did any of this matter? No, I decided. No it didn't. It wasn't as if our wedding night would be my first time, not by a long shot. What mattered was that Mary would be my wife. Mine to protect, to love, she would bear my children and those children wouldn't bear the title bastard, but Prince and Princess. Mary might not be the virginal bride most Princes dreamed of deflowering, but I was no Prince. I was her betrothed and she was my love. The only love I would ever need again. I would not take another woman once we were wed as my father and the other Kings of Christendom did, and she would never leave me. We would truly be together forever. Really, what else mattered?
Francis was falling. Falling to the ground before me, his life escaping him in the river of blood that escaped from his chest. I knew I was dreaming. It was the same dream every night, but so very, very different. It didn't matter if a swordsman stabbed his chest, or poison found its way into his dinner but he always died. No matter what I did, no matter how I tried to warn him, I still watched my love die. I awoke with a gasp as Francis' head hit the cold ground, eyes empty. I glanced around my empty room. Had I not sent Francis away he would be by my side now, holding me in his arms, comforting me from the monsters that plagued my nightmares. But if I hadn't sent Francis away, these dreams wouldn't be dreams, one of them would be real. I heard a commotion out the window. The whinnying of horses and the sounds of men shouting. The new English envoy must be arriving. I turned uncomfortably in my bed. I had gone to lie down earlier than usual, setting aside my evening bath in order to try to sleep. I hadn't been sleeping hardly at all thanks to these dreams. I sighed. It was no use. I wrapped a robe around me and stepped into the hall. I asked the guard to fetch my ladies in waiting and after closing the door I pinned my hair up and divested myself of my clothing, wrapping myself in my thin linen sheet. The ladies arrived and I apologized, saying I had decided to bathe after all. I had given my ladies the night off and I didn't know these maids but it was no matter.
"Very good, my lady," one of the maids responded, curtsying as she ran out to fetch everything they would need. As the water heated, my ladies lined the copper tub with several thick sheets and sprinkled handfuls of the tiny lavender petals between each sheet. After they poured the hot water into the tub I slowly sank down into the hot bliss. Sweet smelling steam filled the room and I nodded at the ladies allowing them to leave. "I shall send for a man to get rid of the water and tub when I am finished. You ladies may leave for the night." They each curtsied and walked out of the door in a single file line. I closed my eyes and sank into the tub, sighing. A loud scuffle broke me out of my daze. I turned my head, startled at the closeness of the noise. Catherine had entered my chambers, a knife in her hand and murder in her eyes. I opened my mouth to call out but it was too late, the knife was against my throat.
"Don't call out," fear filled my body and I couldn't help but shiver a little despite the warm water around me. Catherine threw a bit of powder into the water and it began to bubble menacingly.
"This is madness," I whispered, fear clouding every particle of my being.
"A few days ago I would have thought so, now I have an alternative, we both must die." She hissed quietly in my ear.
"You've already lost." I insisted. "You have nothing to gain from killing me." She responded, her words dripping with vengeful hate. "I mean your children no harm!" I begged.
"What do your good intentions matter?" She laid out her plan delicately, explaining the reasons behind her insanity. I coughed, watching the bubbles pooling at my feet. Her speech went cloudy, I could only understand bits and pieces. "My children's inheritance restored, I will kill you," more words left her mouth but I couldn't focus on them. She was about to kill me. The women who had practically raised me, who was more a mother to me than my own was about to kill me. I shook my head, trying to clear the smoke from my mind. I could feel Catherine fading beside me, her words getting softer, her plan making less and less sense. "I promise that you'll feel no pain." The cold knife disappeared from my throat but I took no comfort in its leaving. I couldn't breathe. I was going to die. And I was too weak to even call out for help. The water was bubbling slightly, the steam rising from it poisoning the room more and more with every passing second. I knew Catherine was lying on the floor. I could see her back, moving ever so slightly, still breathing, but she was weak. If I could outlast her, if I could just hold on until her death, what was I thinking? It wouldn't matter who lasted longer, I would die. The poison was pooling in my lungs and I could feel the lethargic grogginess covering me. Air. I needed air. I couldn't do it. I was sinking lower and lower beneath the water, my muscles too weak to stop this. My head became completely submerged and I could feel all the air leaving my lungs.
I kept my eyes open, watching the ceiling above the water's surface. A face appeared above the water's surface. Clarissa. She disappeared and the surface of the water began to ripple as air began to rush across its surface. Air. I needed air. If only I could reach the surface. Clarissa reappeared and her hands sank down into the water and pulled me up to the edge of the tub. I gasped at the cold, sweat air that poured in, drifting across my face. Clarissa was kneeling over Catherine, whispering something unintelligible to her. I couldn't make out what she said but it affected Catherine greatly. Horror covered Catherine's face as she pushed Clarissa away.
"Get away from me! GO! Get out!" Catherine screamed. I saw Clarissa's face as she ran past me down the open corridor that was pumping cool air into the room. It was no wonder she hid in the shadows. I wished to call out, to thank her but before I could find the strength she disappeared. A guard burst through the door, looking on the tableau he was presented with in shock. Others followed and I should have been strongly embarrassed at my appearance but I was too busy breathing. Sweet, sweet air. Other guards burst in, no one quite sure what to do. Finally Bash entered, running to my side. As I slipped back towards the water's surface, his hands found my arms and he pulled me to my feet, lifting me from the tub. The guards averted their eyes but I wasn't thinking about any of that, only the feeling of Bash holding me, pulling me from that death trap and into the safety of his arms. He took a sheet off the bed and wrapped it around me, drying my drenched skin as best as he could.
Thank God that Bash was here. He would protect me. He was here for me. His hand cupped my chin as he looked directly at me. His eyes asked the questions his lips couldn't.
"Catherine tried to kill me." I gasped out, still in shock. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled me from the copper tub. My legs nearly gave out from beneath me but before I could fall Bash's arms wrapped around my back, holding me up and supporting my weight. He held me against him, the water dripping off me and drenching his shirt but he didn't seem to notice and I wasn't about to volunteer to leave his grasp. Bash yelled something to the guards, ordering Catherine to be chained up and locked away. Catherine retaliated with words that blurred together and didn't seem to matter until she uttered one phrase. One awful and hateful phrase.
"He's a man of secrets. He will be your ruin!" I could feel Bash's anger at the words as he stood beside me.
"I know what kind of man he is." I spat back furiously. "And I have made the perfect choice," I assured her sounding far more powerful than I felt at this moment, "because together we have killed you." The guards dragged her away and I turned back to face Bash.
"Mary are you alright?" Bash asked, his face mere inches from mine. "Mary, what did she do to you?" his voice while oozing out comfort and sweetness for my sake was trying desperately to hide the anger and fury that he held for Catherine.
"Poison. In the tub." I breathed out. "She had a knife against my throat, and then, I don't know!" I sobbed into his shirt. "My God Bash, I don't know, all of a sudden you were here and I could breathe again." My tears hardly worsened the water that soaked him and yet I still tried to wipe my tears off him. My legs began to give out once more until Bash swept me up and cradled me like a child. I nestled my head into Bash's chest as he carried me out of the room and to the infirmary. My eyes were dropping. The gentle lull of his stride rocking me like an infant is rocked by its wet nurse.
"Bash, I'm so tired." I said.
"No. No come on Mary, you have to stay awake. Do you understand me? Stay with me Mary!" But my eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.
Bash Bastard of France
"No. No come on Mary, you have to stay awake. Do you understand me? Stay with me Mary!" But despite my pleading her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep in my arms. I began to run. I needed help. I ran past my father and the group of men he was talking to and they each turned to look at me but I had no time for them, I only worried about the girl in my arms. I had never run faster and I continued to sprint through the hallways until I reached Nostradamus.
"You! The queen has poisoned Mary. You know what she may have used-make this right or I swear I shall have your head." Nostradamus nods as if he is used to these such threats. I immediately feel sorry for my words and I know Mary would be ashamed of me at that moment. "Forgive me Nostradamus. I didn't mean that." I say finally, my heart still beating faster than it ever has for this girl lying before us.
"There is nothing to forgive. People say things they do not mean when their hearts are worried for their beloved ones. No matter-I shall do my best to help Queen Mary." He looked at her tongue and felt at her wrist and palms. "She is simply exhausted. She will sleep soundly now, but I will make a drink for her strength when she awakens. Now that she breathes fresh air, I believe she will be fine." He turned to the table behind him and began pulling herbs and bowls from their places, mixing them together too quickly for me to follow. My father burst through the door.
"Sebastian, what the hell is going on?" he asked, looking down at Mary, lying weekly on Nostradamus' table.
"Your wife poisoned her." I snarled. "Catherine held a knife to her throat and poured poison in her bathwater." I knelt down at Mary's side and held her hand. Henry swore.
"Scotland will have our heads if she dies. Not to mention she is our only chance at England." I glared at my father.
"Yes, that is the true problem here. Let's forget that there is a dying girl lying here." Before he could respond another voice chimed in. A voice that sent a chill through my veins. The voice of a man I was terrified to face. The voice of a man who I had rather hoped I wouldn't have to see for a very long time.
"Father, what is going on?" Francis stepped into the room and looked at me. "Why are we here?" it was then that he noticed whose hand I was clutching. "Good God, Mary!" He called out, kneeling at my side. "Is this how you protect her, brother?" he spat angrily in my direction. "Is this how you allow your fiancée to be treated?"
"This is the work of your mother, bastard." I returned just as angrily. Hissing my nickname that he now held as his own. How dare he suggest had allowed this to happen to Mary?
"What are you talking about?" He returned. "What purpose would that have served? I suspect that this attack had far more to do with trying to stop a bastard from taking the throne of England."
"As Catherine, told Mary what her plan was I believe I have far better knowledge of what is happening. This was your mother's vengeance. Keeping her precious bastard son safe."
"Stop this." My father's booming voice filled the room. He called a servant. "Fetch the Queen Mary's ladies in waiting, they would want to be here." I was slightly surprised to find that even in the midst of this nightmare Kenna was on his mind. "Sebastian, tell me exactly what you saw with your own eyes." Without letting go of Mary's hand as I spoke, I spat the words bitterly out of my lips.
"She wasn't going to take her evening bath. She hadn't been sleeping well and she wanted to get some rest." I gave Francis a short glance, knowing that it was the nightmares about his death that had kept her up in the first place. "I saw her off to bed and took a short ride. When I returned I saw several maids hurrying in and out of her room. I stopped one to ask if something was wrong and she said that the Queen had decided to bathe after all. I returned to my room but something didn't feel right. I couldn't figure out why the maids were helping Mary rather than her own ladies so I finally returned to ask again but when I arrived the guards were all gone and no one was outside her room. I ran off to fetch some guards and when I returned I heard a crashing noise yet when we knocked and called out no one responded. I ordered them to enter the room and when we did Catherine was lying on the floor, yelling at a girl who disappeared into the night and Mary was barely hanging onto the edge of the tub, slipping back under the water's surface." My voice broke and my gaze returned to Mary's sleeping face, calmed by her peaceful expression. "The damn guards were all looking away properly as Mary nearly drowned. I picked her up and wrapped her in this sheet and she told me that Catherine had tried to poison her, that she held a dagger to her throat. Then Catherine yelled that she had chosen the wrong man," I could feel Francis stiffen beside me, waiting to hear how Mary had responded to those accusations. I desperately wanted to tell him what she had said, wanted to say that Mary had chosen me, but I wasn't sure I could do that to my brother. "Then she responded and I ordered that Catherine be taken to the dungeons. Mary nearly fainted and I brought her here. On the way she fell asleep and now Nostradamus is making her a tonic for when she awakens." I took a deep breath. My heart was pounding like a horses hooves against a winter ground. And I looked down at Mary's face, my free hand running through her hair. She turned her head in her sleep and muttered my name.
"Bash." My hand moved from her hair to cup her cheek. "I am here Mary. Sleep. I am here." Before my father could respond to my story or Francis could hit me as it appeared he very desperately wished to do at this moment, Mary's ladies burst through the door.
"Oh my God!" Kenna's voice broke and Lola and Greer rushed to Mary's side. Francis and I were unceremoniously pushed out of the way. I let out a soft grin, knowing that Mary was in good hands. Kenna's hands were shaking and my father held her close, comforting her. It was odd, to see my father holding a women younger than I in his arms but I knew that everyone in this room cared about Mary (or in my father's case at least about someone who cared about Mary) and she would be safe. Bringing her fingers to my lips I kissed her hand and retreated to the kitchen where I knew I could find ale. Francis was following me, I knew he was. And sure enough, I had barely taken two swigs from my bottle before his face appeared before mine.
"Brother." I nodded, acknowledging his presence and offering him a drink from my flagon. He looked at it angrily, as though he might take it from me and throw it against the wall. But after a deep, shuddering breath he took it from me and tipped a large portion of the contents down his throat. We both sank to the ground next to each other, both thinking of the girl we loved, lying in the other room surrounded by her friends. We drank the flask dry and sat in silence.
"Tell me the truth Bash," he said finally. "What did she say to my mother?" I looked away from him, still attempting to avoid this moment.
"What do you mean?"
"When my mother told her she chose the wrong man, tell me her exact words." I looked at the floor.
"There's no need to go into all of that. I don't really remember anyway, it was all such a blur-"
"Don't!" He yelled, throwing the empty bottle against the stone wall, smashing it into a hundred people. "Bash, tell me what she said."
"She said she knew exactly what kind of man she had chosen and that it had been the perfect choice. Because together we had killed Catherine." Francis' head hung low and I could feel his anger shaking. If he tried to kill me now I wasn't sure I would even try to stop him. I loved Mary. I would do anything for her and I would fight anyone to make sure she was safe and loved, and I would do anything to be with her but this man was my little brother. We had grown up together and I had always protected him. And her I was now shoving a dagger in his heart. His eyes looked up into mine.
"You may have her now, you may get the privilege of marrying her, and she may have chosen you now," he began, fury fueling his voice. "But you weren't always her choice. You weren't her choice every time her lips touched mine. You weren't her choice when we met in the forest and held each other for hours," Francis stood and looked down at me, "and you weren't her choice when we slept together." He staggered off swiping a new bottle from the shelves as I processed.
Of course I knew they had kissed. Hell I had seen them kiss. I knew that they had exchanged their vows of love, and I knew that Mary had only chosen me because she wished to save Francis. All this I had known and accepted in the chance of having her all to myself. Yet the knowledge that my brother had taken her first hurt me in a way I would never have expected. As her fiancée that honor was to have been mine. Would she compare us on our wedding night? Would she prefer my brother to me? Did any of this matter? No, I decided. No it didn't. It wasn't as if our wedding night would be my first time, not by a long shot. What mattered was that Mary would be my wife. Mine to protect, to love, she would bear my children and those children wouldn't bear the title bastard, but Prince and Princess. Mary might not be the virginal bride most Princes dreamed of deflowering, but I was no Prince. I was her betrothed and she was my love. The only love I would ever need again. I would not take another woman once we were wed as my father and the other Kings of Christendom did, and she would never leave me. We would truly be together forever. Really, what else mattered?
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