Morning Glory-Francis (Reign)

Chapter Sixty-Three

The ride to Rome was long and relatively uneventful. Francis and I dozed in the carriage, sharing a few kisses behind the privacy of the carriage curtains. Francis told me about the beautiful architecture of the Vatican. I had gone when I was young, but not for several long years.

Several people we saw on the quiet country roads paused in their work to watch the royal caravan pass. The news of Francis and I marrying had spread quickly, and several buildings, and every military fort flew a smaller Russian flag just under the French one in celebration. I expected the same would be done in Russia once we arrived. Then, once Francis was crowned Tsar, the royal seal would be adjusted to include some representation of France and the House of Valois.

We were given a warm welcome in Rome. I felt guilty that I had expected some to be not so pleased at my arrival or my alliance with Catholic France. It came up often in my reports from my council, the concern that the Vatican would withdraw its support, since I had demanded sanctuary for the Protestants living in Poland and Sweden.

Still, crowds lined the streets, and through flowers into the road. Francis and I peeled back the curtains, to wave, and were met with loud cheers. We were met by the Pope, surrounded by a handful of his Cardinals. I was slightly nervous that discussion of the Italian Count Vincent who had visited France and been killed a few months ago would come up, but luckily, the subject was passed over, during the grand feast that evening.

"The Vatican is more beautiful than I remember, Holy Father." I said to the Pope Paul IV. "It has been too long since my last visit."

"Of course, Tsaritsa. You will have to come to visit again soon." He glanced over to Francis who was sitting on his other side. "Perhaps on your next visit, you and your husband will have a third companion." the Pope hinted with a smile.

Though slightly taken aback by his forward statement, I quickly recovered. Of course everyone would be interested in when I would become pregnant. For real this time. France, a Catholic stronghold, and Russia, now a much more extensive nation, would both be waiting for me to provide them an heir.

"It brings me joy to see two strong Catholic monarchs marrying." the cardinal on my left cut into the conversation. Cardinal Oliviero was one of the closest advisors and friends of the Pope. Catherine had warned me that he may be critical of my tolerant policies and that his friendship and support should not be one forsaken. "I can only hope that the Protestant heretics in France can soon be silenced." Oliviero leaned forward over the table to send a pointed look at Francis, who stared bravely back.

"It has always been my father's goal, and it hopefully shall be mine, to keep peace, in France." He answered calmly.

"And you, Tsaritsa," the cardinal turned his attention back to me. "It provoked much discussion here in Rome when we heard of your decision to allow the Swedish and Polish Protestants to continue to practice after they were annexed into Russia."

"War is a terrible thing, Cardinal." I did my best to keep my voice steady and confident, as I reached out and grabbed my wine glass. "I hope to allow my people to live peacefully." I took a deep drink of wine. Still, Oliviero would not give it a rest.

"The Spanish monarchy was able to gain quite a bit of power and control over its dominion after unifying its people under the guidance of the Catholic Church. Perhaps you should consider the same, Your Majesty?"

"I have all the power I need right now, thank you, Cardinal." I answered shortly, before angling my body away from him, towards the Pope and my husband, hopefully showing I was finished with his conversation.

After dinner, Francis and I were led to our guest chambers where only a few days worth of our belongings had been unloaded from our carriages and left. Some servants had drawn a warm bath next to the fire, and laid out our nightclothes over the back of a chaise.

Tired from our day of travel, and the long dinner, we both quickly washed, before slipping on our dry clothes and climbing into bed. It seemed odd that the guest chambers of the Vatican were just as fine as our own chambers back in France, but I wasn't complaining. The bed was soft, and the sheets were smooth. The warm Italian breeze drifted in the windows, keeping the room dry and the air light, but the small fire in the fireplace kept the air a nice warm temperature.

Francis wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me towards him so that his chest was pressed up against my back, and his chin was nestled in the crook between my neck and shoulder.

"Hello." He whispered in my ear.

"Hi." My hands gripped onto the arm wrapped around my waist as Francis grazed his teeth over my collarbone, his nose nudging the shoulder of my nightgown down slightly.

"I love you."

"An I, you." One of my hands reached up to tangle in Francis's hair. "More than you know." I whispered before twisting my body around to kiss his lips.