Morning Glory-Francis (Reign)

Chapter Ninety-One

I was exhausted, and my head was pounding. After I left Francis in the side room, I was forced back into the throng of entertaining the guests before I finally was allowed to retreat to the safety of my room late into the night. I had sent Elisa and Natasha straight to bed, insisting that I would be fine on my own.

The room was cool, and the bed had been turned down. Dropping my crown onto a table, I sat down on the trunk at the foot of my bed, and sighed heavily. Subconsciously, my eyes drifted over to the panel on the wall that I knew lead to Francis's room.

Tiredly, I clamored to my feet, ditching my shoes, and padded across the floor to the panel. My hand stilled over the wood, wondering if I should press it open. I slipped back and forth between imagining Francis standing on the other side of the door, wondering if I would turn him away, and fearing that he was at the other end of the tunnel in his own chambers with another woman.

I don't know if my heart could take another blow if the latter were true. As I turned away from the door, a knock sounded on the other side. It was quiet, timid, nervous.

Immediately, uncertainty swept over me. If I didn't open the door soon, my visitor would leave. My skirts swishing around my bare feet, I pressed the door open, and saw Francis standing there, tears in his eyes, his hair illuminated by the moonlight sweeping in the window.

He reached out to embrace me, but stopped a few inches short. Cautiously, I lifted up my own hands and gently caressed the sides of his face. Francis dropped his hands, and leaned into my touch, but didn't push anything further. After a minute of holding his face, and seeing the pain, love and nerves in his eyes, I pulled his face downwards, and pressed a short kiss to his lips. Still unsure, his arms were slow to make their way around my waist, but as I didn't pull away from him, he slowly gained confidence, and held me tighter.

"I don't want you to be upset with me." Francis whispered. "I couldn't live with myself if you hated me. I'm already disgusted with myself." He pulled away, and dropped to his knees, pressing his face against my abdomen. "Please, Anya, I love you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I wish there was something else I could say to fix it, but there is nothing more I can do. Please."

Closing my eyes, gently threaded my fingers through his hair.

"It's alright, Francis. I don't hate you." A sob vibrated against my stomach. "Shh, my darling." I unwrapped his arms from my waist, and pulled him to his feet. Gently, as I guided him to my bed, I undid the uncomfortable high neckline of his coronation tunic, and pushed him down onto the mattress, pulling the covers up over his chest. Francis reached out and grabbed my hand, as I was about to walk away.

"I should be taking care of you," he mumbled. Though he had only just lain down, he was already near sleep. "You've been ill. You should rest." Leaning down, I gently kissed his forehead.

"I've been sleeping for days, Francis, you need to rest too." He scoffed. Quickly, I walked behind the changing screen, and changed into a night shift.

Carefully, I settled onto the bed next to Francis, who immediately rolled over and cast an arm over my waist. Pushing the thoughts of Georgina and the others from my head, I relaxed, and turned my face into his shoulder. His familiar scent surrounded me, and gently lulled me to sleep.

When I awoke, Francis was still next to me, his face pressed into my hair, his golden curls tickling my forehead. Francis was stirring as well, his arm curling tighter around me, his face pushing harder against my head.

"Is this a dream?" He whispered, rolling on top of me sleepily.

"No, my darling." I pushed his hair off his face. "This is real." Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and I turned my face away slightly.

Francis let out a sigh of disappointment. "I'm a fool."

"You're not a fool-I'm just tired."

"How long are you going to be tired?" He asked, turning my face so I'd look at him again.

"I don't know Francis," I pushed my hair off my forehead, "I just...I just need to get away for awhile."

"You've already been away for awhile." Francis got up, and started pacing. "And I need you, Morning Glory. France needs you."

"I need to get away from here." Glancing over at him, I added "France has been doing fine without me for years."

Francis groaned, and fisted his hand in his hair. "I have to go, the King and his Queen should appear in court today. Please try to come." He gently kissed my head before vanishing back down the secret passage as quickly as he had appeared last night.

I didn't move for a few minutes, just sitting on the bed, breathing. My trance was broken when Natasha came into the room to help me dress. Francis must have sent her.

"Good morning, Natasha." I did my best to return to the lively version of myself that I had been so long ago. Putting a spring in my step, I stood up and started undoing my shift, as Natasha fetched a gown.

"Good morning, Anya." She smiled back, even though I could tell she saw right through my act.

"After I've dressed for the day, could you please find Queen Mary and ask her to meet me in the throne room at her own convenience?"

"Of course, Anya, I'd be happy to. Is there anything else I can do?" Natasha visibly perked up at the prospect of me engaging someone outside my room.

"That's it, Natasha. Thank you." I gave her another smile as she finished lacing up my dress, and I reached for the new crown I had been given yesterday, settling it in my hair. Together the two of us stepped into the hallway, and began walking towards the throne room. Elisafell into step with us as we walked, and I smiled and nodded at her in greeting. She seemed shocked to see me so pleasant to be out of my room, but to her credit, she took it in stride.