Mary, Queen of Scots | Ongoing | Book ONE | French Court

Chapter 3

Francis shut the door behind him and turned.

He was shocked to see Natalia sitting on his bed.

What was she even doing there? He wondered.

"Natalia... Did anyone see you come in here?" he asked, cautiously.

"No," her silky voice answered as she rose.

"They never do." She eyed him hungrily.

"They never will," she continued.

"Nothing's changed here."

She was standing right in front of him now.

"Nothing has too," she carried on as she pulled the shoulder of her dress down.

***

Mary sat by the edge of the river with her large grey hound.

She was fingering all the gorgeous stones and thinking who she could give them to.

She smiled and picked it up, examining it in the sunlight.

Beautiful.

Her dog growled beside her and started to bark into the forest.

She dropped the stones suddenly.

"Sterling! No!" she scolded her dog as her white dress flowed in the wind.

"Sterling!" she scolded again. The dog glanced at her.

"Come on boy."

***

Mary waited outside Francis' door with a smile.

She couldn't wait to see of what he thought of the beads/stones.

Raising her hand, she knocked gently on the door.

The door was pulled open and a shocked Francis greeted her.

"Mary, what is it?" he asked, he looked annoyed at being disrupted.

She smiled, confused. "Um, I brought you something... To decorate your swords with," she held the stones up.

"Now's not a good time," he snapped, his body covering her view from inside the room.

"Oh," she scolded herself that her voice was noticibly higher. Her mind was adrift. Was someone in there with him?

"Next time you should be announced. My page is there for a reason," he scowled.

"I-I don't understand," she mumbled.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Why do you sound so-" she stopped as he straightened.

"Are you alone?" she asked, although she already knew the answer from the look in his eyes.

"Are you with someone?" she asked, her voice shocked.

"If you are ever going to be the Queen of France, you need to understand something: King's don't ever answer to their wives," with that he slammed the door on a hurt and shocked Mary.

She stepped away from the door, holding back the water in her eyes.

On the other side, Francis leant against the wood. He felt bad but wouldn't admit it.

Mary stepped back again. She turned and walked to the stairs.

Regret seeped over Francis.

***

Angrily, Mary made her way to the lake and threw the stones back in harshly.

All of a sudden her dog was running to the woods, barking loudly.

She looked after him. "Sterling," she called.

"No! Come back! Sterling!" she started to chase after him.

"Sterling? Sterling come back!!"

Bash trotted out the woods on his horse, a group of men with him.

He was worried when he spotted Mary.

Sending the men away, he rose over to her.

"Mary!" he called.

"Sterling come back!!"

"Mary!" he tried again.

She didn't listen, chasing her dog to the woods.

Quickly, Bash dismounted and chased after her.

"No. Wait. Mary," he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.

She stopped her hunt and looked up.

"Young girls, Royals," he started, "Queens, do not leave the castle alone."

She looked into the woods.
"But my dog," she trailed off.

"Let him go. Do not go into those woods! Do you hear me?"

"Why not?" she challenged. "What's in those woods besides my dog, who I might have caught, had you not stopped me." She looked up at him through her lashes.

"He'll find his way back," Bash assured.

"There's food and warmth... Who wouldn't want to be at the castle?" He smiled.

Francis' half brother and yet so different.

She looked down.

"Except, perhaps you," he noticed. "You'd rather be at the convent, wouldn't you? You'd be eating porridge and trudging through mud."

Mary looked at him. She had a rebelling look in her face as she contradicted him and raised her face.

"I quite like the way mud feels underfoot."

He looked at her, amused.

"Maybe you'll be sent back to the nuns. For misbehaving."

Observing him, she answered, "You're cheeky."

"And you're upset about more than your dog taking a little jaunt into the wild, what is it?"

He had hit the nail straight on the head.

Mary lowered her head at the inevitable.

She smiled sarcastically and sighed.

"You should ask your brother."

"Ask him what?" Bash asked, confused for once.

She shut her mouth... and then gave up.

"Why he's such a moody, arrogant ass."

Bash's eyebrows rose and he grinned.

"We're half brothers, by the way.. Nothing in common but our father really." He winked and Mary contained her laugh.

"Oh." She nodded.

"But I'll mention your discontent to Francis," he smiled again.

"Don't bother," she said, curtly and turned away.

"And I'll find your dog," he continued.

She stopped. Turned around, looked unsurely at him, flipped her hair and carried on walking again, leaving Bash watching her exit feistily.

***

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