Morning Glory-Francis (Reign)

Chapter Eighty-Six

"I was wondering where you had wandered off to." Francis said jokingly, as I crept through the passageway connecting our rooms, wrapping my arms around my body, guarding against the cool air that easily passed through my nightclothes.

"Mary stopped me in the hallway." I crawled on top of the large bed and curled up next to Francis who was sprawled out against the pillows. He slung his arm over my shoulder, gliding his fingers over my skin. A moment later, his hand trailed down to rest over my belly.

"Do you think you could be carrying our child right now?" Francis turned his face to look at me. "We just don't know it yet?"

"Nothing would make me happier," I picked his hand up off my stomach and pressed a gentle kiss to each of his fingers. His hand slipped from my grasp as I rolled slightly, reaching for a real kiss. "But I'm not getting my hopes up." I mumbled, against his mouth.

"Don't say things like that Morning Glory." Francis shifted so his weight pressed me into the bed. "Hope was the only thing that got me through every time you had to leave."

"You don't need to hope for me to come back, Francis." I cupped his face in my hands. "You know I'll always come back to you."

"I know. But I can hope that the day when you return comes sooner than later." Francis's head slumped to the side, as he began nipping down my neck. Weakly, my arms slipped from his cheeks, to dangle around his neck. In my wrists and in my chest, I could feel my blood rushing, my heart beating too fast.

"Francis," I whispered, shivering as he pulled away from my skin to respond.

"Yes, Morning Glory?" his voice hissed cold over my flushed skin.

"Please," I breathed out, "Please make love to me."

"Patience, my darling. Don't worry. We have all the time in the world." Without another word, Francis's attention returned to my skin, though to his credit, I could feel his hands tugging up the hem of my shift, slightly more hurriedly.

The gentle pressure on my neck disappeared, and my head fell back heavily on the pillows. Catching my breath, I rubbed my hands over my face, and my eyes fluttered shut. A second later, they flew open again though, as I felt Francis push against me.

He gathered my hands in one of his against my stomach, as my shoulders curled up off the bed.

Breathing heavily, Francis slumped over my chest, and one of my arms wrapped around his neck, fingers knotting in his hair, holding him to me. Slowly, the both of us drifted off to sleep, the room barely lit by a few candles on the armoire across the room.

We must have slept late. The candles had burned out, but the room was bright, with sunlight filtering through the windows. Francis hadn't moved, and was still asleep across my chest.

"Good morning," I lightly tugged on his golden hair, hoping to rouse him from his slumber.

It only kind of worked-Francis let out a low groan, and nuzzled his face deeper into my neck.

"Francis, we need to get up." I tried to pull his face up. "We have work to do. There are guests here."

"To hell with them." He mumbled, but nevertheless, rolled off of me, so I could get up and begin dressing for the day.

"You're impossible." Standing up, I smoothed down my crinkled shift, and began walking towards the passageway.

"Morning Glory," Slowly, I turned back around to face Francis, knowing whatever was coming next was his bid to get me back into bed. "I meant what I said yesterday."

"Which part?"

"The part," He propped himself up more on his elbow. "about you not needing to ask to come here." I felt as though his piercing stare was seeing straight through me. "You are always welcome here."

Quickly, I skipped back over to the edge of the bed, and excitement and victory lit up in Francis's blue eyes. Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to his mouth, and allowed my hand to trail briefly down his chest.

Just before his hand could get too close to wrapping around my waist, I pulled away, and returned towards the passageway.

"I love you." I called over my shoulder, pulling open the door. Behind me, I heard Francis slump heavily down onto the mattress.

"I love you too."

Elisa and Natasha were already waiting in my chambers when I slipped out of the secret passage. Quietly, they helped me dress for the day, and fixed my hair, settling my crown on my head.

"Would you like us to come with you to meet with Queen Mary?" Natasha asked, as she and Elisa stepped back from me.

"No thank you. I will go see her alone." I nodded at them in the mirror, before walking towards the door, and stepping into the hallway. My mood immediately dropped, when I caught sight of all the girls milling around the corridor.

Refusing to make eye contact with any of them, I stalked down the hall, and they jumped out of my way, parting like the Red Sea. Confidently, I headed towards the guest wing of the palace, and stopped in front of Mary's door, my skirts fanning out around my feet.

The guard opened the door, and I nodded my thanks as I stepped inside.

"Oh there you are," Mary greeted me, standing up from her seat at the window. I saw surprised when she embraced me, but welcomed the gesture. The two of us sat on opposite ends of the window seat. "Are you excited for your coronation?"

Her words reminded me of the grand celebration set to take place in just a few days. All of the dramatics of the last few days had pushed the issue from my mind.

"I suppose so. The pressure is not something I'm looking forward to."

"You will make a wonderful queen for France." Mary reached out and patted my hand.

"You would have as well." I smiled at her. A silence fell for a moment. "It feels rather awkward doesn't it? I practically stole the crown out from under your head." Mary laughed.

"Anya, please, if anything you've taught me that Scotland is almost more than I can handle." Her tone turned more serious. "You're a much braver and stronger woman than I will ever be."

The sincerity in her voice brought tears to my eye.

"Thank you."