Tampered Beauty

Reduction

"What in God's name are you of all people doing here?" Francis growled, his body twisting to observe the mother of his bastard child, but not letting go of his wife's limp hand as she slept next to him.

"I heard of Mary's illness, and wondered if there was anything I could do to help." Lola began, twisting her hands in front of her, starting to walk over to him.

"Not what I meant" Francis grunted. She stopped in her tracks. "What are you doing here? In Scotland. With John?" Francis finished, hand subconsciously tightening around Mary's. She made no response. She made no noise but the soft exhales leaving her nose.

"I received word from my parents. They are not happy that you claimed my son. They're displeased that you and I slept together in the first place. I thought I could come over here and hope to smooth things over as much as I could. Our son is innocent, they must understand that." Lola explained. "I'm viewed as your mistress, anything could happen to me by Mary's supporters. If it did, I'd want my son to know his family."

"So, you lie me, you lie to Mary again." Francis chuckled humourlessly, sparing a glance at the sleeping beauty attached to his hand, his brow creasing as her face morphed into one of discomfort, quicker than a heartbeat. Then, it fell back to nothing. He brushed a thumb over her hand, as if trying to soothe.

"When have I lied?" Lola frowned.

"The morning after you and I slept together." Francis spat, swallowing down the bile as he thought of that sinful night that started this all. He'd regretted it almost as soon as it had happened, felt even worse when he and Mary married. But now, with his beautiful wife unwell and possibly dying -fevers were serious- after he had hurt her and their son so much, the mere thought of his night with Lola made him sick to his gut. "You told me you had no idea about my mother's execution, yet both Mary and she tell me you were the first to start calling for it!" Francis spat once more, spare hand clenching in a fist.

Whilst he never wished to sire a child out of wedlock, if given the chance to, why did he have to pick such a foolish girl to have it with?

Good lord, he was such a fool.

"Why did you lie to me, Lola?" he questioned. He didn't look at her as he woke, instead staring at his slumbering bride, silently praying for her to open her eyes.

"I don't know." Lola finally responded. "I didn't want to deal with your anger, especially as I knew we would be returning to court. I had gotten what we both impulsively wanted, I wanted to be viewed as somebody you could always trust, confide in. That those in French Court were the ones who were hurting you. I know it was wrong, but-"

"But nothing!" Francis snapped. "How could you do that? Why is it so hard to tell the truth?! You tried to manipulate me, almost ruined my marriage!"

"I didn't!" Lola choked. "You started kissing me first! You made the first moves on me! You willingly ran away from French court, from her," she glanced ar Mary, who still slept soundlessly. "to save me! You stayed in Italy to support your son and me! You suggested we go all around France and Italy during the plague! You said we shouldn't turn around! You made me keep the child! You made everybody know he is yours! Do not make me out to be this monster seductress when you are as much to blame as I am!" Lola cried.

"Quiet!" Francis grunted. "I won't have Mary wake up to these words." he finished.

They paused for a few moments.

"You lied to her." Francis stated.

"What did she say?"

"You told her that whilst we were in Italy, I regularly took other women." Francis stated, staring at the slumbering beauty at his side and not the lying harlot at his back.