You Are My Light Part II

304 - Difficult Questions

"Do you love my brother, mama?" The Dauphin and Duke of Rothsay asks, looking up at his mother as she continues to run a silver comb through his hair. Mary is as gentle as she can be, running it through his dark blonde curls as she readies him for bed.

He's sitting in front of her, facing the oversized mirror that resides in the royal chambers of the King and Queen of France and Scots. His large blue eyes stare into her deep golden ones as she glances up from his soft hair. The future King of France and Scots is wearing a large white tunic and black cotton trousers that have been softened with aloe vera, and it is a stark contrast between the deep ruby and gold gown his mother wears.

There's a ball, this night, to celebrate the wedding anniversary of Charles and Madeline de Valois-Angoulème. The royal children are being put to bed before the actual celebrations begin, having spent the day riding and watching the duels and jousts. Mary hopes they will sleep easily, even the babies have picked up on the excitement of the day, and have given their nannies hell and fuss all night long.

"Of course I do, my little King." Mary replies, briefly turning to pour a small amount of lavender and rosemary oil over her hands, running her hands over his hair, twisting the ringlets around her fingers to keep their shape. "You, Francis, Edward and Henry mean the world to me." She says, massaging the tips of her fingers into the base of his scull.

James closes his eyes briefly. "Not them, mama. Jean-Philippe."

Mary freezes. "What? Why would you ask that, little King?" Her voice is high from the surprise she feels.

"Jean-Philippe heard servent talk when we were playing knights." The almost seven year old says, still watching Mary's reflection. "Mama, they say that you and the entire court celebrated when you could push him out of the royal nursery to put me in there. Do you love him, mama? Papa does, of course he does, but do you?"

"Everybody celebrated you going into the nursery because France and Scotland now had a healthy male heir. They were so happy to finally have a little Prince to put in the nursery. That has nothing to do with anybody else. Remember all the balls and parties we had when the babies were born last winter?" She pushes his shoulder slightly, trying every trick she knew to distract the boy.

"Yes mama, Grandmère let us have candied fruit and lemon curd. It was good!" He smiles.

"Was it? Tell me, if you could have anything you wanted to eat in the morning, what would it be?" Mary smiles, relieved, picking up her boy and sliding him around on the red leather chair.

"Strawberries and cream, mama! With potatoes and butter eggs and cinnamon bread!" James chirps, looking up at his mother as she slowly lowers herself to look him in the eye at his level.

"Well, I think the future King can have whatever he wants to break his fast after his prayers, what do you think?" She smiles as he cheers, clapping his little hands. She grins at him, taking his wrist to kiss the little fingers that once wrapped around one of hers and gave her so much love and purpose that it made her heart feel like it was going to explode.

"Oh, yes, please, mama!"

"I think we can have chef Francetelli have that for you in the morning, yes?"

"Yes, mama. But tell me, please, do you love Jean-Philippe as Papa does?" He asks, his large eyes widening as Mary rolls her lips inwards.

"Jean-Philippe has all the love he can want, sweetheart. His mama loves him, your Papa loves him, your grandmère loves him, and you love him." The vindictive part of her feels bile rise up her throat as she says these things, because no matter how many children she may birth Francis, no matter how many years and Princes and Princesses and marriage pacts, nothing will ever change the face that Lola birthed him his first child, first son. And nothing would ever change the fact that Jean-Philippe was here, underneath her own roof, wearing Francis' baby clothes, being raised next to her children with the Barrony of Velay at his back.

Mary sighs, swallowing thickly, her head hanging briefly. She knows she has to be better, be not like Catherine, who shunned Sebastian and Mary herself and her ladies and never shied away from letting the world know that the children under her care who did not come from her womb had her utter contempt. But it's hard, it would be so easy to slip into the vindictiveness and shun the boy and demand he be kept away from her at all times, and at times it hurts her heart so much to see Jean-Philippe run with James and throw balls and be the brothers Francis and Sebastian had been, when nothing would make her happier than forgetting that that horrible part in their lives had ever happened.

All she could do now was accept her consequences and her pennance for her actions and try to push past her pain and resentment towards her husband and Lola. And try her best to take as much comfort as she can from Francis and James, Anne, little Francis and her baby twins, Edward and Henry. And soon, she hopes to hold another baby in her womb and later her arms, and focus on what she has rather than what she had not eight years ago.

James' eyes widen. "Have I made you sad, mama? Do I make you upset?!" The boy cries out.

"No, my love. Not at all. You make me so happy all the time." The Queen is quick to assure her boy. "I love you and your siblings so much, you know that?"

James nods slowly. "Does Jean-Philippe make you unhappy?"

"My sweet thing, remember how we said that some things were between adults? Big grown up adults? Like when Grandmère is angry or if a noble wants things Papa cannot give or do, and that makes him frustrated? Or when mama is going to have a baby and must sign a lot of paperwork to keep you safe?"

James nods slowly.

"My feelings about your Papa and Lola, and what they did to create Jean, is also one of those things that little Princes don't need to worry themselves about." She tries to smile, poking his nose. "All that you need to focus on is being happy and having dun with your brothers and sister, and leaning from your governess' Marionette and Janette. And when your Anna comes from Denmark at the end of summer, you're to have fun with her and be nice to her and learn with her. That's all, alright, sweetheart? Mama is happy if you're happy." Mary finishes, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. She kisses his hand as he nods, raising up to stand.

Her hands enclose around him as she lifts him up to sit on her hip. "Now, the sooner we get you back to the nursery, the sooner you can have your lovely breakfast in the morning, yes?"

"Yes, mama. When are the babies going to be moved into the nursery?"

"As soon as they sleep through the night, my little love. We don't want them to wake you, Anne and Francis, do we, hmm? Little Princes and Princesses need their sleep."

James rests his head against her shoulder. "Are you sure you're happy that Jean's here, mama?"

"Whatever makes you happy, makes me happy, James."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

~|~

Mary would have been the best mama ❤️

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