Tampered Beauty

Reduction

Mary sighed blissfully, enjoying the warm sunlight on her cheeks. She sat outside in the gardens, watching her countrymen and countrywomen enjoy themselves at the harvest festival. It was early June, a month and a half after the latest instalment in this ridiculous story she had found herself in. By day, Francis and James grew closer to be as thick as thieves. And, by night, the two conspired together to make each person they knew, happier. Even now, they played on the grass together. Francis twirled his heir around on the bright grass by one arm, and the boy squealed and giggled as if he'd known his father for all his life. Which, in some ways, wasn't far off the mark.

What a picture the pair made. Because of the physical closeness of the pair, it was now not that difficult to see the physical similarities the two held. Unruly curls, a narrow nose and sharp jawline, a pointed chin and a substantial height. Although James clearly resembled his mother, he looked just as much like his father.

It was early June, now. The summer festival had been organised by Baronesses Kenna de Portiers, who was well known for throwing lavish parties in both English and Scottish Court. Music played fluently, food and drink flowed. The people laughed and conversed, socialising and mingling well, not an argument or disagreement in sight. Men, women and children associated with each other, uncharacteristically not trying to scheme or back stab for their own game. For the first time in months, everybody was simply happy.

Mary looked over, observing the chief mastermind behind the party. She was donned in a cream lace gown, a crown of white roses in her brown hair. Near her was the Baron, looking as handsome as ever in a dark blue ensemble, his beautiful little daughter in a tiny purple and white lace gown, brown hair and green eyes bright in the summer's day. Meredith was the most beautiful little girl, the perfect mix of Kenna and Bash. Young and sweet and innocent, so adoring of her cousin.

Mary shut her eyes, remembering the time she had seen the little Lady as she was born.

"Mary," Bash smiled, opening the door after hours of Kenna's screams. The horrid sound was finally penetrated by the scream of a newborn, instantly setting Mary and Greer -who had been removed when Kenna started to struggle with blood loss- alight. They hadn't left the corridor outside the room where Kenna had been giving birth. "Greer. You can come in now." Bash had smiled.

They had lept from their perches on the floor, quickly walking inside the large room where Kenna lay in bed, covered in sweat and pale, yet glowing and ecstatic.

"Kenna." Greer whispered.

"Mary. Greer." Kenna had smiled. They looked over at the midwives, who were bathing a bloody, wailing creature. "I had a girl." Kenna said, quiet and weak, but so happy and proud. Mary stepped closer to the newborn girl, reaching out a hand to touch her cheek. The baby's eyes opened and Mary smiled once more.

Bash's eyes.

"What is her name?" Mary asked as the baby girl was wrapped up and given to the dishevelled beauty that was her mother.

"Meredith. Meredith De Portiers."

It hadn't been anything like Mary's own birthing experience.

Pain. Pain unlike any she'd known previously. Unbearable pain, coming in vicious waves, different pains combining into one unbearable cocktail of suffering and agony. A sharp burn with so much surrounding agony that it made it almost unthinkable to even gasp for air.

It was so hot. Why was the fire roaring?

Sheets doused in blood had been changed half a dozen times each day. So, so much blood. So much pain and blood. Servants seemed shaken whenever they carried the bucketfuls of once ivory-now crimson coloured cotton and satin. So much blood. So much pain. So many days. Still no baby.