Drowning: A Reign Fanfiction

Chapter 18

Francis pressed soft, tender kisses against my neck. My fingers swept through his hair, pulling his face closer to mine.

"I love you," I whispered against his cheek.

Hot breath brushed against my mouth, and he kissed me. Fiercely and passionately, he kissed me. He kissed me until both of us were gasping for air because we needed more.

"My Mary," he whispered, cradling my face between his hands.

My eyes brightened. With a smile, I leaned in to press my lips against his mouth.

When he began to match my movements, his lips moving against mine, I pulled away.

"It's been a month," I said. "How are we still allowed to do this?"

In exchange for signing away his family's claim to the french throne, Francis released Louis Conde to his brother, Antoine de Bourbon, the King of Navarre. Since Conde was removed from the castle, Francis and I had been granted unlimited time to 'spend as you please,' as Catherine put it.

In other words, France was ready for an heir, and the lords were willing to shelf the king's duties in order to acquire one.

"I am the King of France," he breathed, pressing his lips softly against my ear. "I do whatever I please."

"Francis." I sighed.

Leaning forward, with his head resting against the crook of my neck, I sat up in our bed. I wore a white silk nightgown with flowers embroidered along the hem. The short sleeves, which normally covered my shoulders, were hanging several inches down my arms, exposing my collarbone.

Francis relaxed against the bed, propping his head up on his pillow.

"What's wrong?" he said, reaching for me.

Wrapping the bedsheets around my chest, I turned around to face him. His eyes were bright with happiness. He had been this way ever since we avoided the war that would have likely taken both of our lives. Though, by the set of his facial expression, I could tell he was concerned about me.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's right," I said. His eyes crinkled as his lips pulled into a breathtaking smile. "Every day we get to do this," my hand gestured between us and the bed, "which is so nice, Francis. I never want it to end."

His eyes softened with understanding. Without warning, his arms wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me gently against his chest.

"Me neither," he said. He pressed his lips against my forehead.

Leaning back, I stared up into blue eyes.

"But it has to end—one day. The day I learn I am bearing our child, the thing we want more than anything in the world, we lose this. And, Francis . . ." water lined my tear ducts, "I am not certain I will ever be ready to let go of this. To let go of you."

He grinned mischievously.

"We'll still have the evening . . . and the morning."

I smacked his chest.

"Did you take into account a baby crying?" I said

Crossing my arms over his chest, I rested my head on my arms, staring at him with an amused expression.

"No . . . but why would the baby sleep in here? That's what nannies are for."

My mouth popped open, eyes wide with shock, while he frowned in confusion.

"You did not just say that," I said

"Say what? That I expect our child to grow up with a nanny? I grew up with a nanny, and please excuse my arrogance—I think I turned out alright."