Morning Glory-Francis (Reign)

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Charles V's court wasn't anything amazingly special. We were greeted with a fanfare, of course, but the German culture was strange to both Francis and I, and we found ourselves playing the quiet, polite guests for the few days we spent there.

Now, both of us were nervous as we passed into Russia. The people knew I would be returning soon, but no date had been set for when we would reach Moscow. It was naive to think that we could make a quiet entrance.

As soon as we stopped in a small town for a meal, I watched out of the corner of my eye as a soldier mounted a horse and took off in the direction of Moscow, no doubt to tell the towns to prepare for the arrival of the Tsaritsa and her new husband. And of course to tell Moscow to being preparations for the coronation of the new Tsar. It was sure to be a grand ceremony especially since Francis would be given the right to the Tsardom should I die without any children.

Of course in the next town we passed, it seemed every soul living there had spilled out into the streets to wave and throw flowers at our passing carriage. We pulled back the curtains on the window and waved back at the people. Their cheers grew louder when they caught sight of Francis sitting with me in the carriage.

Everyone was waiting for us in the courtyard of the palace when our carriage came to a stop. My whole council, Natasha and Elisa, and Jan and Erik's families, not to mention the large crowd of nobles who had returned to the capital for the iminent coronation of their new Tsar.

Unlike my other dramatic arrivals, I was the first to exit my carriage. Despite the glimpses of Francis that had been caught through the windows of our carriage, this would be Francis's first formal presentation of Russian Court. Tensions were high as Francis appeared through the doorway of the carriage and stepped out into the open air.

"Presenting, Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa Anya, and the Dauphin of France, Prince Francis!" The herald called, as Francis and I approached my council, my arm wrapped around his elbow. Each of my advisors curtsied to myself and Francis, before we headed inside.

There was no mistaking Francis's awe as we stepped into the throne room. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't proud of it. It was just as grand as the one back in Fontainebleau, complete with tall ceilings, stained glass cathedral style windows, and the Russian emblem, complete with a golden eagle, hanging proudly over the thrones at the head of the room.

That was one change from the last time I was here. The last time I had sat in my own throne was after the end of the war. Then there was only one. Now there were two. But they weren't like Henry and Catherine's thrones-where Catherine's was a fraction of a step back from her husband's. These two thrones sat exactly side by side, separated by one a few inches, nearly perfectly identical. The only way I could tell which one was mine, was I could vaguely make out some designs similar to the French flag on the throne on the right. Where Francis would sit.

"It's so good to see you again, Anya." Anfisa embraced me, as our party stopped in the empty throne room. Later in the evening, the door would be opened for a celebration, the first of many, but for now it was just my inner circle.

"You as well, Anfisa." I smiled. Almost subconsciously, Anfisa, Elisa, Natasha and I fell into step together, slowly moving us away from the men. Worried for a moment, I glanced over my shoulder. My worries were quelled though, when I saw Francis easily talking and laughing with Aleks, Erik, Feliks, and Darek. However, my eyes didn't miss how gaunt Aleks's face had become. Hopefully now that Francis would be able to officially take on some duties, Aleks wouldn't have to work so hard, and he could focus on recovering.

Before I knew it, my posse and I had waltzed out of the throne room towards my own personal chambers, that I would now share with Francis. Our trunks had already been placed in the room, lined up against the wall, waiting to be unpacked. Tired from the journey, I bid my ladies to sit down with me, and I called for a pot of tea.

"How was your wedding tour?" Natasha asked, as soon as we were settled in the fluffy armchairs, warm cups of hot tea in our hands.

"It was lovely." I smiled coyly, before taking a deep drink of my cup. If this conversation was going where I think it was, though, I may have to order something a little stronger.

"But please, Anya!" Anfisa gasped, throwing her hands up. "Details! We haven't seen you in weeks, with you off touring the continent!" I had to laugh out loud at the ever so composed Anfisa's reaction.

"Well," I sighed, shaking my head, "We spent some time at a cottage in a small town in Italy. That was wonderful fun." I smiled, remembering the few days I had gotten to spend as just a woman in love with her husband, rather than a queen. "It was nice to not have to be me for a little bit." My friends nodded their heads, quiet for a moment. "Natasha," I switched the focus of the conversation off myself for a moment. "You didn't tell me that you and Feliks were so close. Do tell, when do you think he will ask my permission to court you?"

Everyone giggled as Nat's face flushed deep red. To her credit, though, she gathered herself enough to answer me.

"I'm not sure, Anya." She smiled. "We haven't talked much of courting, considering how often we are apart from each other." I nodded, remembering all the times I had to leave Francis behind and return to Russia. I would try to make it better for Nat and Feliks than it was for myself and Francis.

"Well, I can tell you, he is absolutely smitten with you." Anfisa piped up. "He could not contain his excitement on the way to France. He couldn't wait to see you."