War of Hearts || Reign || REWRITE

Chapter 12

June 13th 1562, Château de Fontainebleau, France

Two weeks had passed, and life had fallen into a new rhythm.

Now that Mary was determined to improve her place at court, we spent almost every evening in her chambers with Francis and his friends.

I knew Mary was uncomfortable—she had been raised too strictly to enjoy spending time with men without a chaperone—but me? I was having the time of my life.

Not that anything too scandalous ever happened. These were Francis and Maximilian's friends: Henri de Montmorency and Philippe de Châtillon. I had known them since childhood, and though most of our games were innocent, there was always a touch of playful flirting.

With Max gone, I grew restless, and their company kept me from boredom.

That evening, a musician sat in the corner of Mary's chambers, playing a cheerful tune.

I was lounging on one of the canapés, halfway through my sixth cup of wine. Henri had stretched out with his head on my lap, his long legs dangling lazily over the edge.

Across from us, Francis and Mary sat side by side on another canapé, speaking quietly. Philippe had retreated to the shadows, whispering to one of Mary's ladies-in-waiting.

I watched Francis. His smile, his real smile, lit up his face as Mary spoke. Something twisted inside me. For two weeks I had teased him about the mysterious woman who held his heart, but he never gave me an answer.

Part of me feared it might be Mary. Who else did he spend so much time with? Who else had the right to share his smiles?

I tried to push the thought away. I wanted no part in Francis' bed, nor the affairs of his heart.

"Bianca?" Henri's slurred voice pulled me from my thoughts. He had drunk almost as much as I had, and I was already floating.

"Yes, Henri?" I asked, glancing down at him. His eyes narrowed mischievously. "I'm bored," he whispered. "Shall we make our royal couple a little... uncomfortable?"

I grinned. That was why I liked Henri so much.

"How uncomfortable?" I asked slyly.

"Terribly. My little witch."

I laughed softly. Leaning back, I tugged my bodice just enough to reveal a hint more of my neckline. My gown that evening was of pink silk, trimmed with ivory lace, a simple cut, but flattering. When I leaned forward again, my décolletage hovered dangerously close to Henri's face.

I plucked a cherry from the dish on the low table. "Would you like a cherry, Henri?" I asked loudly enough for all to hear. He nodded eagerly.

Holding the cherry between my teeth, I bent over him until my lips hovered just above his. Henri snapped at the fruit, but I pulled back, laughing.

"Stop teasing me, Bianca," he pouted. "I'm hungry."

I dipped lower, my nose brushing his. Again he snapped, and again he missed.

"Come now, Bianca."

Someone shifted sharply on the canapé opposite, but I ignored it. With a final smirk, I let the cherry drop into Henri's mouth and pressed a fleeting kiss against his lips, pulling the stem away with my teeth.

When I straightened, Mary's face was crimson. Francis's eyes were on me, dark and narrowed. Slowly, deliberately, I wiped the cherry's juice from my lips with my finger, then slipped it into my mouth while holding his gaze.

Henri sighed dreamily. "Delicious. Another kiss? Another cherry, bella Bianca?"

"Of course, my knight," I purred.