War of Hearts || Reign

Chapter 1

May 1562, Château de Louvre, Paris

The salon of Queen Catherine de Medici was, as usual, filled with her ladies-in-waiting. A musician sat in the corner of the room, playing a calm melody on his lute.

In the middle of the salon sat the queen on her throne-like chair. Next to her, on a velvet-covered stool, sat her confidante Claude de Clermont-Tonnerre, Dame de Dampierre.

By the window sat Bianca. She held her embroidery in hand, but her attention was elsewhere; she stared out at the gardens of the Fontainebleau Palace. Her thoughts wandered far away, to Italy.

Today, she had received a letter from her father. It had been a long time since she'd heard from him; the last letter was from January, in which he'd wished her a happy new year and asked about her well-being.

But today's letter was not warm; it was a letter of mourning.

Her father wrote that his wife, Eleanor of Toledo, had passed away from swamp fever. Her half-brothers Giovanni and Garzia had also succumbed to the illness. Giovanni had died two weeks before his younger brother and mother.

Bianca mourned her half-brothers, but for her father's wife, she felt no sadness.

She had hated Eleanor. After all, it was because of her that Bianca had grown up far from her father and half-siblings. Eleanor had hated her because she was her husband's illegitimate daughter. Perhaps she hated Bianca even more because, despite her constant complaints, Cosimo had still chosen to keep Bianca close to him.

Eleanor had been bitter that, while pregnant with her second daughter, Isabella, her own lady-in-waiting Laura Bandini had caught Cosimo's attention. Laura was from the lesser Florentine noble family, the Bandini.

Not long after Isabella's birth, it became clear that Laura was also pregnant. In 1546, she gave birth to her daughter Bianca. Eleanor herself gave birth to a son a few months later, but he passed away shortly after.

Eleanor was furious with Laura. She hated her and wished her dead – a wish that ultimately came true. A year and a half after Bianca's birth, Laura died due to complications during the premature birth of her second child with Cosimo, a boy who also died shortly after birth.

Laura Bandini passed away at the age of twenty-two. Instead of sending his illegitimate daughter back to the Bandini family, Cosimo chose to keep her.

"She is innocent in all of this," he had said to Eleanor when he announced the news. "She deserves the warmth of a family."

It took Eleanor seven years to get Bianca out of the house. She seized her chance when Cosimo had to travel to France for political matters. She suggested placing Bianca under the protection of Catherine de Medici, a distant relative of Cosimo.

For some reason, her father agreed, and since that day in 1553, Bianca had never returned to Italy. She hadn't seen her father since.

"What are you thinking about?" Princess Elisabeth's voice broke Bianca's train of thought. She was seated next to her with her own embroidery in hand, smiling kindly at Bianca.

Bianca smiled back. "Oh, nothing. I was just daydreaming." She picked up the needle again and looked at her work. She was embroidering the Valois crest on a handkerchief.

By now, she knew the three golden fleurs-de-lis on the blue shield of the Valois as well as she knew the five red and one blue ball on the golden Medici coat of arms.

She held up her embroidery to Elisabeth. "This is for you. You can use it to decorate your rooms in Madrid." Elisabeth smiled gratefully as she examined the embroidery. "You're so kind, Bianca. And look, your needlework is so neat and delicate. You truly have a talent."

"His Majesty, the King!" came the call from the hallway, and the salon doors opened. The ladies quickly put down their work and rose from their seats.

When the king entered, they all curtsied.

King Henri of France walked over to his wife and helped her rise. "My queen," he greeted her.

Catherine looked up at her husband of twenty-six years. "My king, what brings you here? I hope it's not bad news?" she asked him, her expression questioning.

Henry shook his head. "On the contrary. I have wonderful news." He looked around the room. "Ladies, please continue with your work; let my presence not disturb you," he joked.

A few of the ladies laughed softly and returned to their tasks. One of them brought over a chair for the king, who took a seat beside his wife and leaned toward her.

"Queen Mary of Scotland will attend our Elisabeth's wedding. I have decided it's time for our son to marry her. They are both eighteen, after all, and it is high time for Francis to produce heirs, now that we have so few."

Catherine swallowed upon hearing this. After all, it was only a year ago that their son Henri had died. He had been only ten, never very healthy, but there had always been hope for a long life. No one had expected he would die from the flu.

With his death, the couple had only two surviving sons left: the dauphin Francis, aged eighteen, and their son Charles, twelve.

Fortunately, they were blessed with three healthy daughters: Elisabeth, sixteen, Claude, fifteen, and Margaret, nine.

Five strong, healthy children who had replenished the Valois line, while four others lay dead in their graves.

Catherine shook away thoughts of her deceased children. "Won't Mary's arrival at court overshadow our Elisabeth's wedding?" she asked, shaking her head. "Mary should remain in the convent, for her own safety," Catherine said, her tone sharp.

"Mary will be just as safe at court as in the convent. Her presence will show others that we have the strongest alliances in Europe." Henri sighed. "The decision is made, Catherine. Mary will join us tomorrow. She will meet our son again, and we will plan their wedding. Perhaps by the end of summer?"

Elisabeth and Bianca listened to the royal couple. They sat close enough to follow the conversation. "So, the queen is returning," Elisabeth whispered. Bianca nodded. "It seems that way, yes." She observed Catherine's annoyed expression and watched her heated discussion with the king.

The king and queen were like water and fire—both essential but incompatible.

Bianca glanced out the window again and finally saw the person she'd been looking for.

She rose and approached the king and queen. "Your Majesties," she said softly, feeling uncomfortable interrupting their bickering.

The royal couple paused and looked at her. "May I take my leave?" she asked politely.

Catherine nodded briefly before resuming her conversation with her husband. Bianca curtsied quickly and left the salon.