Way Down We Go

Chapter Fourteen

Mariposa Vivienne Mionette Stuart-de Guise died once again. This time, she was replaced with Mariposa Vivienne Mionette Valois-Angoulême, now a wife. We were wed in the most beautiful winter ceremony, full of the pomp and pageantry fit for people of our station. We had all the media coverage imaginable, and thanks to Catherine and my girls, the biggest and most extravagant ceremony and venue imaginable. It seemed so surreal that I wasn't even twenty years old at the time, and already I had committed myself to my husband for the rest of our lives. Of course, our union wasn't the most conventional way of doing things, but the dust had settled on that particular drama. Francis and I just wanted to focus on each other and our happiness. 

My new husband pulled open the door to our home, leading me up the staircases and hallways to our bedroom. Before he did, I squealed as my legs were suddenly swung behind me and he carried me in his arms. I laughed aloud, our giggled meshing with each others' as his mouth was slowly placed upon my own. I let my fingers tangle into his long, soft blonde locks, feeling the beautiful black satin suit he wore, the matching tie and the white rose upon his jacket pocket.

Francis kicked upon the door and I gasped in surprise. The floor was covered in red rose petals, as well as the bed. Long candles burned in full bloom, giving the room a sensual glow. It smelled sweet, the vases of roses and different types of flowers also blooming, their scent all around the room. On the ceiling, balloons, their black tassels hanging down low upon the room. I smiled in pleasure as my husband gently lay me down on the bed, the long train of my dress and veil now slithering into the room, thankfully not getting caught as the door swung closed.

"I love you." he whispered upon my lips. I blushed in pleasure, toying with the lapels of his suit jacket, his all black satin ensemble sexy and sophisticated.

"I love you." I murmured, his lips swallowing the words as his mouth descended upon my own.

Neither of us thought again that night.

Our marriage had been something of a fairy tale. I had loved him more than I ever thought possible. And I was adored just the same. Our honeymoon was blissful. We stayed in a beautiful chateaux in the French alps, the snow making everything glitter like diamonds. We explored the enormous complex in the mornings, spent our afternoons in the small villages and our nights in each others arms. It was pure bliss. We had nothing to think about but each other, it had never been that way before. I was more in love with him that I ever had been as a child or a teenager, and that love was reciprocated in return. I adored the sparkle in his eye when he looked at me, the way his heartbeat sped up whenever I touched him, the shudder in his spine when our lips connected and the shake in his breath when our bodies conjoined as one. It was pure paradise.

We spent my birthday in the chateaux, and Christmastime their as well. The two occasions solidified our new lives together. With nobody more important than each other, our new age had begun. Him and I against the world, we were going to be unstoppable.

And for a time, we were.

Our first nine months of marriage were pure perfection. We worked well together. He regularly travelled with me for work, never missing an opportunity to be with me unless it couldn't be avoided. We preformed our business duties together, ruling the two merging businesses like a King and Queen, although Henry still ruled over the Valois dynasty. But it didn't matter for a time. He may not have been a King in his own right just yet, but he was my King.

And he stood by my side as a considerable of weddings imploded before our eyes. Kenna was wed to Francis' half brother, Sebastian, in April. They were both well off. Kenna had an impressive position in one of my businesses, and Sebastian held a little bit of stature in Henry's own business. Greer wedded in August, to a lovely man named Aloysius, a simple man who taught in a university just east of the city, whilst Lola was wed to one of Henry's friends, Stéphane Narcisse in October. I adored Bash, enjoyed Aloysius' company, but there was something about the third member of their little trifecta that unnerved me. Narcisse was a poisonous and a cruel man, much older than Lola herself, dangerously ambitious in Henry's main company and was all around, a bully of a man. He held children older than Lola, too. That was one of the most uncomfortable parts about their little arrangement. Luc and Edward were a good four and two years older than my friend. It made their wedding a tad bit awkward, as well as the reaction to their courtship. But, she was a big girl and was allowed to make her own mistakes. Mainly because Lola's husband had previously been involved with my married mother in law, but I digress. Lola had never been the brightest bulb anyway.