A beating heart

Chapter 14

14.

He had tried to prepare himself, to brace his heart for what he would encounter. But absolutely nothing could have readied him for the moment his eyes had caught her figure.

She just stood there staring back at him and he felt so numb, his body unable to move. All the people around them vanished. Amélie, Pierre, the whole crowd, they were all gone.

All he could see was her, those familiar eyes that had haunted him in his dreams for months, those same two dots of brown were now intently fixed on him. Was it anger flicking in them, or maybe even fear? It was impossible to tell.

He could see her mouth falling slightly open in surprise, but otherwise her pale face remained an unreadable mask, revealing no emotion. Her hands had moved lower on her body and his eyes followed.

The sudden sickness that overcame him nearly knocked him over and his heart revolted in pain. Even the numerous thick layers of her black gown couldn't hide it, her hands were clutching her huge swollen stomach.

His mind went black with anger and pain, his whole body suddenly numb. He wasn't sure what he had expected, coming here, what good it could have possibly done. All of this had been a huge mistake, he should have just left for Florence as he had planned. What had he expected, she was married now, married to his brother and that would not change. She was married and carrying his brother's child in her belly. He could feel his once healed heart already falling to pieces again in his chest.

It was simply too much, he couldn't take it anymore and the hurt and confusion must have shown on his face, for Amélie tucked at his arm, her eyes filled with worry.

„Francis, are you alright?" she whispered to him and all he could muster was a heavy nod.

They moved forward, towards the crowd of people gathered to greet them.

„I present his Highness, Francis the Second de Valois, Lord Bourgois and the Lady Amélie." the voice of the announcer boomed.

He bowed and Pierre and Amélie, who had her arm linked through his, followed his lead. When he rose, his eyes caught his brother, who acknowledged him with a small nod of the head. Bash looked so different, older and his face had grown harder in the course of mere months. The burdens of the new crown on his head were already showing.

His brother, his older bastard born half brother, Bash, now the French King. It seemed so unreal, felt so eternally wrong.

This was not how things had supposed to go, his brother King with Mary by his side. How had things gone so utterly and completely wrong?

Bash offered him a polite welcome but the words that left his mouth never reached Francis' ears. His brain seemed unable to react and he just stared at his brother, who, after a moment of confusion, turned before him and retreated back into the castle, flanked by heavy armed guards. When he could feel the hands in the crowd slowly turning from him and following their king, he allowed his eyes to move from their fixed point again, as they flickered over the crowd, searching. They found the spot in the very back, she had occupied just minutes before, but it was empty now. She was already gone, had disappeared into thin air and his heart grew heavy.

The letter, the crumbled piece of parchment felt so heavy in his pocket. This was so foolish, he should have never listened to his mother's pleas, never returned to this cursed place. No matter what his mother knew or suspected of Mary's motives to marry Bash, it was irrelevant now, some things could not be undone.

„Francis?" Amélie tucked at his doublet.

His eyes flickered back to her, the brown speckles on green ground frowning at him. He took in a breath, gathering his mind, trying to push of all his overwhelming emotions as far back as possible. His hands were curled up into fists and his jaw clenched in an effort to stay calm, concealing the mess inside his head.