Rebirth

Chapter 4

"Are you sure you wish to do it this way, Mary?" Kenna asked, tightening the bodice on Mary's back.

"I can't hide it any more, sister." Mary's voice was soft from months of unuse, but gentle all the same. "Catherine must know."

"You could have told her in a letter."

"And she would have torn down France looking for her son's legitimate, unborn child." she half smiled, reaching down to cup her stomach, enjoying the weight of it, even enjoying the pressure and the pain. "In any case, this is more impactful. I know she'd suspect until the proper time would have passed," she said, her voice still soft.

The Queen of Scotland was a beauty to behold. After so many months of simplicity, she was dolled to the nines. Long, shining onyx waves tumbled down her back and rested on her hips. Half of it pulled up in a fishtail braid, the rest hanging loose in gentle waves and curls. Small gems were inserted with little clips, others holding on an impressive crown of black, rubies and small pearls, the black intricately woven and standing proud on it's mistresses head. 

Along her body, black chiffon covered her. A low cut accentuated her swollen breast, the chiffon covering her arms and shoulders, the back low. The chiffon was pulled tight against her waist, accentuating her swollen stomach, falling loose against her legs. The skirt swished around them, falling in a long train behind her. Covering the dress was a beautiful red lace, sparkling in floral designs. It clung to the sheerness of her long sleeves and the matt black of her bodice, as well as the skirt and train. The lace clung for a few inches longer than the chiffon, sparkling in the dim light of the chambers.

Tied to her face, a masquerade -befitting the occasion, the French Court always hosted masquerades before the coronation of the new King- mask of black metal, intricately woven, just like her crown, with small, glittering rubies adorning it. A small netted veil hung over half her face, three small, black feathers gently falling down in little chains.

She wore a thick necklace of rubies and diamonds, matching chandelier earrings skimming the lace on her shoulders. Her fingers were adorned in jewels for the first time in months, and she wriggled them to get used to the feeling again. On her swollen feet, court heels, sparkling in gems and lace.

Kenna and Greer were dressed in equal finery. Kenna donned in ivory. Greer donned in emerald.

"Shall we depart?" the Lady Castleroy asked, holding out a hand to Mary as the door to her chambers opened. In walked Sebastian, matching his wife, donned in the bright colour.

How unlike him, Mary thought, watching as Sebastian bowed to her quickly, before taking his wife's arm.

"We shall." 

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court, hail Mary of the house of Stuart, first of her name, Queen Regnant of Scotland and it's isles, Duchess of Edinburgh and Lorraine, Dowager Queen of France!" the herald cried. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the court that used to be her own, painting on a demure smile as she walked into the ballroom. The French Court bowed to her former Queen, nobody seeing her growing bump until they rose up. She inhaled as they did. 

"Mary," Catherine's voice rang through, walking forwards, the pale orange of her own gown shimmering as she took steps towards her former daughter in law. But, she didn't look at Mary's face. No, Catherine de Medici -the Queen regent of France's- eyes were stuck firmly onto the Dowager Queen of France's stomach. Nervously, Mary placed a hand onto the bump, waiting for judgement. "Look at you!" she gasped.

Now, Catherine's eyes fell to Mary's own. They sparkled golden, a stark contrast to the dull black she'd sported for so long. Mary looked down at her, accentuating the height difference between the two. She had a good eight or nine inches on the Medici Duchess. She stepped forwards, coming in close.

"Mary, tell me," only now did the aforementioned Queen realise that court stared at the duo in stunned -possibly?- silence. "tell me," Catherine's voice was quiet. Quiet and breathy, as if she couldn't believe her eyes. "that child, is it-" she looked at the bump again.

"I am with child, Catherine."

"As I can see, but-" she trialled again, taking more steps. She reached out, arm shaky, touching the bump. "this child, is it my sons?" she asked, looking up at Mary, her eyes full of tears.

"Yes."