Tampered Beauty

Misery

"Bye, papa!" young James' voice smiled, as his nanny closed the door. He'd finished his morning cuddles with his mother, whom was still on bed rest, always having been so attached. Francis did his work in the corner, constantly taking glances at his wife and heir all the while. 

As the door closed, Francis turned his head to his wife, watching the way her face contorted with discomfort as she slept in their bed. It had been three days since Castleroy's death, Greer sent off to a neighbouring country house to grieve whilst her children stayed at court, oblivious to the true horrors of their parents true whereabouts. Mary had taken to her bed -upon physician's instructions- as they awaited the imminent birth of the royal heir. She was barely allowed to leave for fear of endangering the baby. Mary obeyed, but she got restless doing nothing all day, trying her best not to worry for her dearest friend and about her mother in law, who had been suspiciously quiet over the last few days.

The calm before the storm, Francis thought to himself, listening to the slightly laboured breaths his wife gave out, congestion being a cruel symptom of pregnancy. He knew, from his childhood and adolescence, that a silent Catherine de Medici was more frightening than a present Catherine de Medici. And knew that her revenge would be harsher should she be left to stew for too long.

We know where she is, Francis could see in his elder, half brothers' eyes as they spoke to Leith and James, so why can't we take her?

The truth was, Francis wondered that, too.

Gentle Elisabeth -a loyal Frenchwoman who obeyed her King- had been feeding them information from both their letters and Mary and Greer's working girls. He wondered if Catherine knew that her daughter was betraying her. He also knew that there would be no confrontation between Elisabeth and Catherine should the latter discover of the former's justified betrayal. Catherine de Medici would never harm her children, even her resented daughters. They would always be safe from her wrath.

But, if that is so, he reasoned. Why does she betray me? he asked his half brother, their words silent but conversation clear. Her favourite, the one who she pulled two countries apart for. Why does she threaten to destroy once more?

I don't know, brother. Sebastian said. But I promised you and I promised your sons, I will defend you from any threat. Even from Catherine de Medici.

She really was a fascinating woman, one whom deluded herself into thinking her actions were justified and true. Anybody could see that she was doing the wrong thing. Anybody could see that these actions were wrong and would eventually lead to conflict and bloodshed. But, what nobody could really see was why? Why Catherine de Medici was betraying them so, again? What could possibly justify such treason, the almost sealed suffering of young James and the unborn child Mary grew in her womb?

Not wanting to be away from Mary -as she was so far along in her pregnancy- Francis stayed in the room, but not wanting to awake her from the sleep she so deserved but so rarely attained, they stayed at the corner of the room, their voices quiet. Francis regularly looked over at his wife, observing every minute detail of her. The way she winced in her sleep, the variation of her breath, the paleness of her skin and the redness of her nose, the way she cupped her stomach and tried to get more comfortable as the Queen rested. His heart ached to see her suffer so, and he hated how he could do nothing to stop her suffering.

"We can't simply send French guards to pluck the woman from Spanish court." James huffed. "King Phillip would take it as an act of war." he said.

"So, what?" Leith asked, his face glum, somewhat older than usual. Francis sympathised with his friend. Tiny little Princess Odette had been caught down with fever for a few days, coughing into a tiny fist and clinging to her father through all the hours of the night. And, with so many ladies of the court growing with child -Mary and both her ladies were pregnant, including almost a dozen court nobles- he knew that Leith pined for the long dead Princess Claude, who had died a few weeks before Francis' return. "We just let Phillip attack France?" he said, repeating the information Princess Elisabeth had gotten to them that morning.