"You should go to your mother." Mary whispers as she touches Francis' hair, pushing it out of his face when he had roughly pulled it in his grief. "I will bring her no comfort, I am the personification of you leaving her arms. Bash is the embodiment of your Papa's betrayal. But you? Her favourite, her golden child? She will want to see you now, more than ever."
"What do I say, how do I say it?" Francis looks up at her with red rimmed eyes, pretty blues dimmed by his pain and sadness.
"I don't think you need to say anything, Princeling." she whispers her nickname to him. "Just go to her, wrap your arms around her and kiss her and let her cry. She has borne and lost a baby, a Prince. She will need comfort."
Francis winces. "How can a baby die? Old people die, soldiers die, babies don't die."
"Maybe if they're sick?" Mary guesses. "I had two brothers die before I was born, when they were babies. Mother always told me that babies are fragile, easily killed by a chill or a fever. And they were Princes, too. I'm sure they're up in heaven together, maybe they're friends, family even. Like us."
"You really think so?"
"I don't see why not." Mary rubs his back as more tears burn his eyes. She feels bad that she doesn't have the same grief as Francis does for his brothers' death, but she can't help her lack of tears. Catherine loathes her, and Mary has long made her peace with this, she wasn't ever allowed to hold little Louis or give him a bottle or stroke his dark hair. The night he was born, Francis had tried to introduce them all to his newest brother, but Catherine screamed and threw a fit until the children not of her blood and womb had been removed. Her temper was so bad for many months that Mary and Sebastian brought the brunt of her anger, the two of them being struck for even eating with the wrong hand. And while the nine year old Scottish Queen would never ever feel glad for Catherine's suffering, and while she hurts because her precious French Prince hurts, she cannot grieve for the baby she had never even lay eyes upon.
Francis sniffles, wiping his tears.
"I'm going to miss my little brother, Mary."
"It would be odd if you didn't, but I understand. And you've got me, me and Bash and Lola and Kenna and Greer and Aylee. It'll be alright, Francis. Now, go see your mother, then come back to us."
"Alright."
YOU ARE READING
You Are My Light Part II
Historical Fiction-Reign Oneshots/Taking Requests- The world can be dark, Mary, and uncertain and cruel. The only thing that matters is that we face it together. No matter what happens, you are my light. Part 2! -Read TEML first!-
