Morning Glory-Francis (Reign)

Chapter Thirty

I was sad that I missed the look on Mary's face when we reached Fontainebleau once more. I could tell from her posture alone, even though all I could see was her back as she stalked into the castle, was that she was angry. Probably angry that I rode with Francis back to the castle instead of sitting in the carriage with Charles and Madeleine. Which couldn't have made for great conversation.

Francis and I walked hand in hand back into the castle, where he led me back towards my chambers. My farewell was another kiss on my hand, before he disappeared down the hall, and I slipped into my own room.

Inside, I was surprised to find not just my two friends sitting there, but Mary's four ladies as well.

"Hello, girls." I smiled brightly at my unexpected guests. Mary was probably already irritated with me, and I didn't need her friends tattling that I was rude or inhospitable. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having you four here?" I asked, laying my traveling cloak over an empty chair, and sitting down gracefully.

"With both you and Queen Mary gone, we thought we might as well get to know each other." Elisaveta explained. Anfisa nodded in agreement.

"What a wonderful idea!" I said, happily. Just because Mary was not open to being friends didn't mean her ladies were off limits. Also, if need be, they could serve as useful spies if the occasion arose. Desperate times call for desperate measures. "I confess I was hoping I would get to know you four ladies better over time as well as Mary." I looked towards the window quickly. "Though she's probably not too happy with me right now."

"We saw you arrive back. Mary did not look happy." Greer said. "Why were you and Francis not in the carriage with the others?"

"Francis asked me to ride with him." I said, nonchalantly, not really wanted to discuss it. Then the door banged open. Mary certainly liked to make dramatic entrances.

"What are my ladies doing here, Anya?!" Mary yelled, as she stalked over, her long hair streaming out behind her.

"I asked the same question not five minutes ago." I answered, cooly, not really in the mood to fight with her again. "They all decided to get to know each other better while the two of us were out for the day."

"Do not be mad at the Tsaritsa, Mary," Lola said, with a calming tone. "It wasn't her idea, or either of her ladies. We came here on our own accord to talk to Anfisa and Elisaveta."

"Come on, Lola, Kenna, Greer, Aylee." Mary walked back to the door, her stride heavy and confident. "We're leaving."

"It was nice talking to you girls," Elisa called after them, as their new friends followed their queen, heads bowed.

"There's an English envoy here." Anfisa changed the subject. "He said he wanted to speak with you, Anya."

"Why?" I asked, sitting up more alert now.

"I'm not sure, but he said he'd be at the welcome party later. But be cautious Anya. Things are already tense between you and Mary. The English are her greatest threat. Meeting with them won't send a good message." Elisaveta added. I nodded in agreement, thinking for a moment.

"Then I'll just have to let him come to me." I stood from my seat and walked over towards my armoire. "But before this party, I will need to change. This dress won't do if I'm presenting myself as a monarch." I nodded down to the relatively plain, travel worn dress, complete with mud splatters around the hem from horseback riding.

Eventually I settled on a soft blue dress with bright green, yellow and pink details. It was more feminine than I usually preferred, but I didn't need to look exceedingly powerful today. I opted to keep my hair up in a more mature fashion to balance it out, and only wore a simple gold wire tiara instead of a heavy jeweled one.

Happy with my ensemble, I dismissed Anfisa and Elisaveta to prepare themselves for the celebration and sat down at my desk to do some work until the returned. Things in Russia were more or less the same. The fanatics were now calling for her to return to Moscow. And still not marry Francis. I guess they had caught wind somehow that I was in France to court a husband.

My advisors were still pushing to invade our neighbors to the west. Luckily Dmitri was still defending my dedication to peace, though in his reports I could tell he was starting to see reason in my council's ideas. I had to admit, expansion was tempting, but I could not drag my country into a war, while I was hiding safe on the other side of the continent.

As I was lazily reading a budget report, a knock on my door announced the entrance of my two friends, now dressed for the party. They both had chosen slightly more embellished dresses than the ones they were wearing this morning. They were as ready as I was to make a good impression.

"You look lovely, ladies." I smiled, standing from my desk.

"How are things back home?" Elisaveta asked, catching sight of the official documents still lying on my desk.

"I don't know, Elisa." I sighed, as we began to walk down the hallway. "Those fanatics who don't want me to marry are still at it. And my council is still determined to start a war that we do not need."

"I'm sure you will figure it out, Anya." Anfisa patted my arm comfortingly. "I'm sure everyone admires you for standing your ground. About getting married, and keeping the peace." She encouraged me.

"Thank you, Anfisa." I nodded to her, smiling, as we all stepped into the throne room where many of the guests were already gathered. I smiled wider when I saw Madeleine and Charles playing together across the room.

"Catherine is smiling at you." Elisa whispered in my other ear, as I scanned the room, wondering which guest was the English ambassador. I glanced over and saw Queen Catherine standing with Nostradamus, the court seer and healer. We had seers in Russia, but I had never put much stock in them. However, if Catherine confided and took council from one, then this Nostradamus must either truly have a gift, or be an amazing actor.

"At least she's not angry with me as well." I muttered, subtly nodding over to where Mary stood with her ladies, looking less than pleased.