Morning Glory-Francis (Reign)

Chapter Seventy-Six

"You asked to see me, Father?" It was the second time in two days that I had been summoned. This time though, it was to Father's private bedchambers. Not the ones he shared with my mother. As I stepped deeper into the room, looking for him, I heard a light set of footsteps running by.

Turning my head, I saw the now familiar head of dull brown hair belonging to Penelope slipping out of sight. Unsurprisingly she had wormed her way into Father's bed, and now into his court. Not as a servant, but his mistress. Of course.

Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention to Father who was laying in his bed among messy sheets. Naturally.

"Yes, Francis." He sat up, shaking his head back and forth. "Just the man I wanted to see." He wasn't looking at me.

I glanced behind me to see if there was someone else in the room, but there was no one.

"What are you looking at, Father?" His head snapped over to look at me.

"Nothing, nothing." He paused for a moment, staring intently at seemingly nothing.

"Are you alright?" I asked, stepping closer to the bed.

"I'm fine. How is your wife?"

"She's fine." I answered shortly. "Just as fine as she was yesterday." If not more so now, I thought, remembering Anya's sleepy smile from this morning when I woke her.

"She's very beautiful."

"I'm aware. I'm very lucky to have her as my wife." I nearly growled. I did not like the look in my father's eye, especially as he was talking about my wife and not some servant he had picked out of the kitchen.

Father continued to stare at empty space and I sighed, mildly frustrated. Since we had returned, he had been acting strange, but no one wanted to bring it up.

"Is there something important you wanted to talk about Father?"

"Is her body as pretty as her face?"

"Excuse me?" I yelled, fighting the urge to grab on of the swords off the nearby table. "Father, please get some rest. You're not thinking clearly."

Instead of heeding my advice, he drunkenly stood up on his bed, stark naked and pointed an accusatory finger at me.

"No. I am King. Chosen by God. It is now that I am thinking clearly. Before everything was wrong, and confused," he turned away from me and looked back to the empty space, "but now, it's crystal clear."

"You've lost your mind." I backed up quickly and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

"Francis!" My mother's voice behind me startled me out of my momentary fury.

"Yes, Mother?" I turned around looking at her.

"Were you just with your father?"

"Yes," I seethed, my anger returning. "He's lost his mind."

"Shhh," She hushed me. "You'll learn soon enough weakness is never a good thing in your own house." I rolled my eyes and continued my stalk down the hallway. She hurried to keep up. "I wanted to ask you something."

I only glanced at her, inviting her to continue.

"Is there a reason that Anya is not yet pregnant?" Another groan escaped my lips. Of course, that's what had to be brought up right now.

"Not that I know of." I huffed. "Besides it not being the right time for us to have a baby. God will give us one when it is time."

"Francis, you and I both know that's bullshit." Another huff. "Do you think there might be some issue with Anya? That wound in her side?"

"There is nothing wrong with my wife!" I yelled, turning on Mother and stepping towards her aggressively.

"Francis, I'm just trying to help you." Mother doubled her speed as I took off down the hall again, walking quickly. "Some herbs or medicines I, or Nostradamus, could provide to aid the process."

"Please, Mother." I turned to her again, this time with a tired look on my face. "Anya is as stressed about the situation as anyone. Please let us figure it out on our own."

"Francis, you know there is nothing I wouldn't do for you. But you and Anya are still barely past childhood. I'm trying to make the best for the both of you."

"I'll think about it, alright? And I'll tell Anya you offered." I patted her hand. "But I cannot guarantee that Anya will agree."

"Francis, think about how this reflects on-"

"Trust me, Mother. Anya is well aware how this reflects on her and her family."

"Not just her, Francis. Us as well. How will we, the Valois, look if the world realizes we allowed our heir, our Dauphin, to marry an infertile woman?"

"I love her." I growled, my previous sympathy fading away into more anger.

"The rest of the world doesn't care about any of that Francis. Not for people like us."

"I care about it. And I'm going to be king." I spat out.

"If Anya doesn't conceive soon, I'd worry more about retaining that position." Mother grabbed me by the arm and pulled me off to the side. "People are greedy, Francis. Power-hungry. And if there is even the slightest chance that you may not have an heir, every noble from here to Paris will flood to Saint Germain to win the favor of your brother Charles."

"Charles is a child, only eight years old."

"He can still be king, and at this point, his claim is only weaker than yours because you're older." I breathed out, not wanting to admit that Mother had a point.

"I will talk to Anya about it. But I refuse to force her to take any of your witchy herbs. She's under enough pressure as it is."

"I'm doing this because I care about you Francis. I don't want you or Anya to face any troubles that I could prevent or mitigate."

"I'm sure you always have the best intentions, Mother." I said, half sarcastically before walking off towards my chambers to find Anya.

Once I reached our rooms, I found Anya inside reading a letter.
"Francis, guess what news just came from Moscow!" She gasped, jumping up excitedly.

"What is it, darling?" I asked, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her to me. It was rare to see her this excited recently, and I wanted to enjoy it.

"Feliks is on the way, under the pretense of asking an important question. And to keep his travel secret from a certain one of my ladies." She giggled, dropping the letter onto a table and twisting her arms around my neck.

"Is he finally going to ask Natasha to marry him?" I asked, nuzzling my face into her neck. She smelled so good.

"I hope so. She's been so down since we left Russia. Hopefully this will cheer her up."

"It should. I can vouch that the married portion of my life has been by far the best."