Morning Glory-Francis (Reign)

Chapter Fifteen

When Anya told me she was feeling a little tired, we left the dance floor and retired to some chairs along the side of the room. Anya told me about all that had happened while she was in Moscow. I expressed my condolences for the loss of her parents and brother.

Eventually the party started to dwindle as guests began leaving and returning to their chambers. My stomach sank when Anfisa, one of Anya's ladies, approached and asked Anya if she wished to retire to her chambers for a bath before she went to bed.

"I would like that very much, Anfisa, thank you." Anya answered, standing up from her chair. I quickly stood up as well. Anya turned to me. "I'm afraid I'm feeling rather tired. The journey from Russia was a long one." She must have noticed my face falling, because she smiled and took my hand. "Before I go, may we have one more dance?" she smiled, hopefully.

"Of course, My Lady." I answered, pulling her to the dance floor. Now with fewer people watching, I felt more confident, and held her a little closer, putting a little extra pressure on her waist.

When the song came to an end, I did not release her from my hold immediately. I don't think Anya minded either, because she didn't pull away from me. Reluctantly, the two of us walked over to where Anfisa and Elizaveta were waiting for her.

A few feet away from the ladies, Anya pulled on my arm to stop me, turning to face me.

"I don't know if you're expecting anything, Francis," she sounded nervous, "but I don't think I'd be able to sneak to your rooms. Not anymore. I'm not Anna anymore." She gave a small laugh. I smiled down at her.

"Then I will count the hours until I see you again, in the morning." I raised her hand to my lips gently, before releasing her to go to her ladies. As the trio of them walked left the hall, Anya glanced back over her shoulder at me, sending me one more heartwarming smile.

"Well, I think that went well." Mother's voice pulled me out of my trance, as she came to stand next to me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, crossing my arms and looking down at my mother.

"If your father is able to break the marriage contract with Scotland, it shouldn't be hard to secure Anya's hand." Mother reached up a hand to touch my face. "And after watching you tonight, I do not expect any objections from you." I had forgotten how easily my mother could see through me. Or everyone. Catherine de' Medici was a dangerous woman.

She motioned for me to walk with her.

"Your competition shouldn't be too steep." She commented as we turned down a hall towards the royal family's chambers.

"My competition?" I was confused.

"Poland and Sweden have both been trying to build a marriage alliance with Russia. So far, they have been unsuccessful. Anya's father had turned neither one of them down when he died, but now that Anya is the head of her own house, I daresay we are lucky you made a good impression." I almost laughed. I highly doubted tackling Anya as I was running down a hallway made a fantastic first impression. "She might be the only woman in the world who will truly pick her own husband." Mother mused. I thought I heard hints of jealousy in her voice.

"Then I must hope that he choice will be me." I said, determinedly as we reached the doors to my mother's chambers. I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to head back to my own rooms to sleep.

At least I hoped I would be able to sleep. I had missed my late nights with Anya, though I knew she was right. Now that she was known throughout the castle as the Tsarita, she couldn't exactly waltz down to my chambers at night. If we were caught, the stakes would be too high, and she could be ruined.

Mother was right. Anya really was the only woman who would be able to chose her own husband. I tried not to get my hopes up that she would chose me. If she ever did marry, she would choose a partner who would be advantageous to her family and Russia. Anya was unwaveringly loyal to her homeland. And while I would be the King of France eventually, France was so far away from Russia.

Lost in my thoughts, I wouldn't have noticed a door cracked open if a cool rush of air hadn't chilled me. Shivering, I realized it was door that led to the Royal family's private garden. Confused as to who could be in there, I cautiously inched towards the door, opening it enough to see inside.

Standing just beyond the threshold, on the snowy grass, was Anya. She no longer wore her long ball gown and her hair was down, her long red tresses hanging over her shoulders. A long black cloak was wrapped around her shoulders. After a moment of watching her, I recognized it as the cloak I had given her when she left France.

She jumped when I placed my hands on her forearms, but I kept my grip tight enough that she couldn't step away from me.

"It's freezing out here, Anya. What are you doing?" When she realized it was me behind her, I felt her body relax and lean against mine.

"I found a passageway in my room. It led me to the hallway right in there." She nodded towards the corridor where I had just come from. A cold gust of wind blew through the gardens, and I wrapped my arms all the way her body, sharing some of her body heat.

"How was your bath?" I asked, turning my head slightly into her hair. All of this was probably highly improper, but I had been waiting for her to come back for weeks, and I had no more patience for propriety.

"It was nice." Feeling me move my head, Anya leaned back a little more, tilting her head back against my shoulder to meet my eyes.

"I was worried you wouldn't come back to me." I said, leaning my forehead against hers. "When you went home."

"How could I not come back to you?" She asked, reaching an arm up to smooth one of my curls.

Leaning into her touch I answered, "I was worried I had...crossed a line." Anya looked puzzled for a moment, then understanding flashed across her face. She didn't answer for a moment, and I sighed, disappointment filling my stomach.

But then she wrapped her arm around my neck and used it to pull herself upwards enough that our lips met.

Her kiss caught me off guard, even though I had remembered our last kiss every day since she left. After I fully comprehended what was happening, I kissed her back, pulling her ever closer to my body by her waist. She squirmed in my arms until she was fully facing me, and her other arm could slide up my chest to meet the one wrapped around my shoulders.

Lost in her touch and her kiss, I backed her up until she was leaning against the stone bricks of the castle wall.

I pulled back for a moment, and pressed our foreheads together again, waiting until my breathing calmed before opening my eyes. Once I did, I saw her blue eyes staring right back up at mine. Another cold wind chilled the little bit of air between our faces.

"We should go back inside." I whispered. "It's cold." Anya nodded, and without a word, the two of us slipped back into the warm hallway. She walked over to a panel of the wall, and peeled it open.

"Goodnight." I said, as she turned back to look at me. I reached out and pressed a small kiss to her hand. "My Lady." Anya smiled even wider, and stepped out to press a chaste kiss on my cheek before she disappeared into the dark passage.