Tampered Beauty

Midnight

"Mama." James babbled, walking over to his mother as she sat at her desk. His mother looked up as he came strolling into the room, instantly loosing interest in her conversation with the few working girls and spies she had set up in Spain. After all, letters could wait, her beloved little child was only going to be this small for so long.

"My love." Mary smiled, holding his hand as he walked up the small set of stairs Francis had commissioned a month ago, that lead him to a spare chair next to the Empress herself. Even with this pregnancy being considerably smoother than her first with James, it was still a precarious business, even more so due to the political importance of this child. So, Francis and James had banned her from picking up her adorable little toddler until the baby was born and she was healed. But his little pouting face and big eyes made it hard to resist his wishes.

"Mama." he smiled, carefully walking off the chair and settling onto what he could of her lap. He sat with his legs crossed, tiny back settled on the desk. Mary beamed at him, brushing some unruly curls from his face, settling them sort of tidily behind his little ears.

"Hello, love." Mary smiled. "Did you run away from Governess Aldive again?" Mary asked.

"Yep." he agreed, shamelessly. He accentuated the little word with a nod. Mary laughed. "She's not very fast." he added. Mary chuckled. Not only did he have his mothers' younger impulses to run around -something she remembered vividly doing all around French Court in her first year there- but he had Francis' long limbs. That made a deadly combination for the Governess Mary had employed to start structured lessons. It was now expected that the boy would rush away at a moment's notice. He seemed so proud of himself that Mary didn't have the heart to berate him for his mischievousness for. Besides, he had his fathers' charm, the boy could get away with anything with a smile. He wasn't called the 'sweetest, most perfect child in all of Europe' for no reason, after all.

Mary smiled at him, giving up on her fruitless attempts to smooth out the kinks in his black curls. 

"Where's your Papa?" Mary asked.

"With Oncle Bash and Leith." he answered, starting to twirl her necklace in his little hands, a high neck silver bib-resembling necklace made up of small diamonds, resembling feathers. 

"Do you know what they were talking about?" Mary asked.

"About Grandmere." he said, voice soft as his little hands slipped down from her necklace to the now very visible bump Mary sported. Mary tried to smile, loving the attentiveness and curiousity her son bore to the child inside her, but the words that fell from his lips unsettled her. Why would Francis be talking with Sebastian and Leith? Had something happened regarding Catherine? 

As much as Francis had begun sharing things about France and his own clan to his wife, he had an awful habit of keeping things to do with Catherine from her. He had claimed it would stress her and the child, something that he couldn't let happen. The Empress of Great Britain and Queen of France was now twenty five weeks pregnant, clearly remembering the night she and Francis had told Court that she was pregnant.

"This is a glorious day for all of Great Britain and France. The almighty Lord has smiled upon us all. My husband, the Emperor and I, stand before you, covered in glory, to deliver such amazing news. It is my privilege to announce to you and the world, that I carry within me an heir." Mary smiled wide, standing at the head of the table, husband by her side. She beamed at her court as they roared in excitement. A thunderous applause echoed through the grand room. Kissing his wife's hand, Francis smiled at her.

"The Empress and I are pleased to share with you the news of our child. Long may he reign!" Francis raised his wine glass in celebration.

"Long may he reign!" Court cheered, drinking their wine.