Morning Glory-Francis (Reign)

Chapter Eighty

Everything was different now. My official coronation wouldn't happen for a few weeks, after affairs could be put in order, and Anya could return from Moscow. Still, the changes in court were evident. Father's private chambers were cleared out, and my belongings were slowly being moved in. The same for Anya's into the Queen's chambers. Mother was being moved to a different room, reserved for the Queen Mother.

Nobles had flooded court, each hoping to fall into my favor and be gifted riches once I formally took the throne. And along with them came their daughters. And nieces. And sisters. I was bitterly reminded of a conversation Anya and I had had not long ago.

I would be expected to take a mistress. The King's Mistress was a powerful position in court, with, in my opinion, a ridiculous amount of unearned influence. And it just opened up. The power vacuum had sucked every unwed noble woman to Fontainebleau to see if they could woo me.

Every morning, a growing collection of ladies lined the hallways from my room to the dining room, and then from there to the throne room or wherever else I went. They all stood in clumps pretending to have conversations while really watching me out of the corners of their eyes. It was all rather unsettling. They wore revealing gowns, and heavy perfume, and it was starting to irritate both myself and Mother.

Though she made a point to tell me that I couldn't simply send them away. It would be too rude, apparently. However, attempting to seduce a married man, wasn't too rude.

Anya was supposed to be back any day now. The women who plagued my home made me miss her even more, especially as they grew bolder. I almost never got a spare moment to actually get any work done, because there was always some Baroness, or Countess, or courtesan who needed my attention. And getting rid of them wasn't exactly easy. They were painfully persistent.

Naturally, there was another party tonight. Since the initial shock of the King's death had worn off, everyone was ready to celebrate a new monarch. It didn't help that every time someone mentioned my upcoming coronation as the King of France, I felt like God himself was staring me down, and telling me that I wasn't worthy of it.

I would try to remind myself that I had freed my father from a madness that had plagued him, but at the same time, I knew that if anyone found out what I had done, I would be murdered. Half the time, I woke up in the middle of the night, wondering how I could have put myself at such a risk, when Anya was counting on me, depending on me to protect not just her, but her country as well. Anya was right. Crowns are heavy.

It was too late at night for this, and I sat boredly on the throne, watching as the various guest spun around on the dance floor to lively music. The entire room reeked of alcohol, and there was a small army of girls surrounding me in case I wanted to dance. I didn't. I had eaten my dinner, acknowledged whatever damn festival we were celebrating now, and wanted to go to bed and miss my wife.

However, Mother had insisted I stay up for this party-something about how I needed to present myself to the people as their next king. Like I haven't been doing that my entire life.

At some signal that I didn't pick up on, several of the ladies flitting around the room began to congregate towards me at the front of the room. Rolling my eyes, I let up eyes wander to the empty chair next to me.

Ladies of the court obviously were oblivious to my disinterest. They chattered loudly, their words blurring into a mindless din that hung in the room.

"Your Majesty," A flash of green and yellow stopped in front of my gaze, demanding my attention. Focusing, I saw the girl who was now curtsying low in front of me. "I am Georgina. It is a pleasure to meet you." She glanced up at me, a strange look in her eye.

Absentmindedly, I nodded before returning to scan the room. Unfortunately, I was only allowed a few moments of peace before Georgina demanded my attention again.

"Please, Your Majesty," She tried to meet my eyes but my glare caused her to drop her gaze again. "At least pretend to speak with me for a few moments. My uncle is watching, and he will be very displeased if I disobey him."

"Disobey?"

"He wishes for me to become your mistress, Your Majesty." She said quietly.

"Of course he does." I muttered, scanning the room again. I noticed a man standing off to the side who was carefully watching Georgina and I. "Well then tell your Uncle, that by no fault of your own, I will not be taking a mistress."

I waved my hand to dismiss her, but she was bolder than I originally imagined.

Grabbing my arm, she whispered furiously, "Please, Your Majesty, I'm begging you. Don't send me away yet, a few minutes more. Please." I could see the desperation in her eyes, and relented. Nodding, she smiled and stood up straight, dropping my arm.

It seemed not only her uncle witnessed our exchange. With in a few more minutes several more girls had flocked over, blabbering away. 'Your Majesty this. Your Majesty that.'

The majority of it filtered in one ear and out the other, only a few details sticking. One girl was here with her sister. Another was from the Holy Roman Empire. Several voiced opinions regarding how handsome I was. Soon, Georgina had walked away, but the rest of the crowd didn't fade.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Mother watching me. I made sure the annoyance was evident on my face whenever I looked at her. Her expression was somewhat apologetic, but also not really. She thought this was necessary, but she had to know I would never bed anyone of them.

I was about to lose my patience and retire for the evening, when the heavy doors of the throne room were swung open.