Your Infidelity: Allowed It, Because I Love You

Heartbroken Husband, Lover of a Wife

Revised Version
Perspective d' Francois
     She loved me once. Perhaps, she could it again? My life these past few weeks has been an absolute hell. I cannot continue to live like this. I cannot.

     I look across my bed, no longer mine and Mary's. Next to me lies another woman lain last night by I. The thirteenth one this month.
     It has been three weeks since the attack on the castle. It wasn't just the attack that bothers me so. It was Mary's rape that is making my life crumple into tiny pieces, like crumbs of bread. I cannot help wishing the attempted assassination on me was successful instead of its being an attempted one.     If the Protestants had succeeded on assassinating me, Mary would have never been raped. How should my death be a better option than Mary's getting raped? I would not be going through this terrible, awful heartbreak.
My door knobs twist, and I am pulled out of my reverie. However, I cannot help but become highly agitated and extremely annoyed by the lack of knowledge whoever this person is-- has about knocking. All my servants and guards must know by now how I strongly dislike my chambers being entered to without a proper warning.
Now, who could this be? "Hurry," I say loudly and angrily. The woman I slept with naked beside me murmurs something in her deep sleep. My eyes roll, then freeze at their spot as Mary appears behind one of my doors.
She says nothing as she absorbs slowly what she sees in my chambers: clothes on the floor, a woman and me, naked in my bed. Oh, what is she thinking? Is she hurt? Jealous? Judgmental towards me? Albeit, how could she be? She no longer loves me. She hasn't, for a long time. It's all my fault.
Finally, she speaks. "Francis. ." She takes a few steps closer to my bed. I have not made a motion the second she appeared from behind my door. My wife just caught me committing adultery.
Her face shows concerned. "What have you been doing with your life? I have been managing all our royal business on my own," she says in an accusatory voice.
"I have not been well, Mary," I tell her angrily. However, I am not angry. Not at all. I am scared and nervous and embarrassed. For weeks I have been nothing but sorry and regretful, so now I am just making those feelings with anger and irritation. Why cry over a woman who does not even think of me as much as I think of her.
"That's no excuse, Francis."
I currently cannot think of anything else to say, so I just ask her what she is here for. "Did you come to tell me something else other than to better myself?"
All the hair planted in my skin come to a stand as she says that yes, she does have something else to say.
"Wha- what is it?" I ask carefully.
Whatever it is she is going to say I don't want to hear. She has broken my heart with her words and distance lately. I no longer expect for anything she says to be positive.
"I am visiting Navarre for your king's business."
Right here, right now, I want to grab her, grip my fingers around her arms, look at her with my begging eyes, and plead with her not to go. However, I am no longer entitled to do that, since she and I have come to an agreement that we will be married in name only. So, all I could say was, "All right then."
Silence fills the room, until my temporary mistresses yawns. When she sees Mary, her face is of no color but red only. She picks up her clothes and leaves, not bothering to dress fully.
"And you, shall go to Scotland. You are its king. You need to show our people that you care about my country as well, that your are willing to help it amidst its many unsolved problems."
Again, all I could say was, "All right." The lines on her face vanish as one of her worries goes away. I sit up straight, halfway leaving my bed. "Do you mind giving me privacy as I dress up?"
"Of course. I am sorry." After she closed the door, I scream instantly. I've completely lost my wife. I am no longer actually married.