A beating heart

Chapter 24

„Your Majesty." one of the council man cleared his voice.

„Hmm" his head was pounding and his thoughts were completely lost as he stared aimlessly out the window.

There had been too much politics, too many council meetings and endless negotiations as of late. He would spend most of his waking hours in these stuffy chambers with the other Lords, discussing war strategies or ways to ease the tensions between the opposing groups in the country.

Whole villages were burning, children kidnapped and countless murders committed. France was in turmoil. Religious differences had brought them to the edge of civil war. Every day, the number of new reported uprisings, small or large, would climb higher and higher. Neighbors were turning on neighbors, ratting each other out, killing in the name of the same god.

The current food shortages, though it was still summer, had only worsened the present situation. The most frustrating part was that they had sufficient grain to feed the whole country, but some Lords were refusing to deliver their owed shares. More than a third of the highest Lords in the country had turned on their King, as they refused to accept a bastard, they still deemed illegitimate. And although he was the one wearing the heavy crown, blessed by the catholic church and god himself, the power lay elsewhere. A King without his nobles' respect was a mere pupped on a lonely string.

They had more money, more resources and their own powerful alliances. Especially the southern lords, who owned most of the crown's farm lands had refused to pledge their loyalty. They had offered to deliver on his demands under one condition, his abdication. And some days he actually considered it. Wouldn't it make his life that much easier?

But then he would remind himself why he had done all this in the first place. She needed him, she needed her husband to be the King, not some sad and powerless bastard. Scotland needed France, and as far as politics were concerned she and her country were the same. If he should withdraw his claim, they would loose everything. His title, his name, it would all be gone. All the reasons she had pressed for this marriage in the first place. He would need to fight, for her and for the child's sake.

Whenever he thought of their daughter, it stung. No matter what he said or how hard he tried to reason with her, she wouldn't listen. He knew that he was busy, that he had been more King then husband these past weeks, but he did it for her.

Apparently she thought differently. It had been only about a week when she had moved out of their joined royal chambers, back to her old rooms. And she had taken the baby with her.

His jaw clenched, the frustration hot under his skin. In the beginning he had thought that it had simply been her recovering from the birth that had isolated her. But clearly things hadn't changed. Before the child's arrival he had prayed that the baby would bring them closer again. All he wanted was to see that sweet smile on her lips and the glowing dark eyes he missed so dearly. But the person he mourned for so desperately was gone, far out of his reach.

He was supposed to protect them, a caring husband and a loving father. But how could he? He had held Anne all of five times, and never for too long. Once she had regained enough strength she had closeted herself off in her room, the child always safely hidden in her arms. The worst part was that he couldn't even explain it to himself, what he had done wrong. What could be so bad, as for her too keep the child from him? He wanted to love his daughter, see her beautiful eyes and hear her incoherent babbles.

Sometimes it felt almost as if she didn't trust him, was afraid of letting him get near the baby. He silently promised himself to try and talk to her today, after this excruciating meeting was finished. She couldn't run and hide from him forever.