Tampered Beauty

Axe

"What are you reading, my sweet love?" The heavily pregnant Empress asked, walking over to her eldest born son and settling herself at his side as he read from a heavy book, stood on a golden stand and resting on it's sides, the front of it resembling an eagle in flight. James fell back to his heels after standing so long on his top toes. He looked at his mother, beautiful and pregnant and vibrant in her fruitfulness and youth. Mary looked down at him, fixing his long black curls before the dark blue satin doublet trimmed with intricate gold thread he wore.

She glances at the great book, open to a recent addition to its pages of knowledge.

"The entries of the last two months, mama. Anna says she keeps a journal, and this is yours. Is she true, mama?"

"Kind of, this is the Empire's journal, all of your father and I's countries." Mary reflected, flicking through the pages absentmindedly. A few about the quick eradication of a plague to the east of France, a number of great battles and a few she herself had fought in. The wars Henry had fought and all the money Catherine had to pay out for killing the wrong person and paying the families' silence.

"It said Lola, mama." James fought back to the page he had been reading. And there, indeed it did. Lola's execution date, time, last recorded words, the method and her crimes. Mary ran her long nails over the intricate quilled ink, the cursive beautiful and sad all at the same time. She smiled sadly. "Lola Fleming, that was Jean's mother, yes?"

"She was." The raven haired young woman said, nodding softly. "But she did too many bad things that it made it impossible to forgive any longer." she replied, trying to be as honest as possible to her child.

"You got your revenge, mama." James smiled at her. She saw the sparkle in his eye that could only be described as Scottish, who had been famed for their joy at the English's suffering over the years, before Elizabeth's death and Mary's English rule.

"I wouldn't call it revenge, but it could be perceived as such. She made many bad choices, and they had to be atoned." the mother replied softly. "But I cannot say it wasn't somewhat satisfying." she smirked. No matter how much she wanted to move past the hatred and disgust she felt in her younger years, part of it was always going to be there.

"I never liked her." James revealed. "She dressed sillily and her teeth were rather large  and made you and Papa upset. Not to mention Jean." Mary noted that he borderline spat the name out.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't like Jean." The Dauphin wined.

"Why not?" Mary cocked her head to the side. "Haven't you been getting on better since the babies were in my stomach?" she asked, placing one hand upon her womb and using the other to fix his unruly hair. It was even more unruly than his fathers'.

"He irritates me!" James wined again. "And he keeps trying to pull Anne's hair when she sleeps and he disrupts Governess de Bois in his and Francis' lessons. And he-" James was interrupted by the entrance of his father, that same expression upon his face as he had when Mary planned to tell him about his mothers' unconventional methods of conception a couple months after the wedding.

"What's this?" he asked, walking over to his wife and eldest legitimate son and plucking the young child up from the place upon the floor and into his arms. James let him, wrapping his arms around Emperor Francis' neck and looking deep into his fathers' eyes. Mary silently noted how similar the two looked. He may resemble her in the more noticeable scene, but his expressions were all Francis.

"When is Jean going to visit the Dowager Baroness of Velay, Papa?" he asked.

"You wish for your brother to be gone?"