Tampered Beauty

Gasoline

"Mama, what's happening?" Lucien cried as he clung to his mother's frame as they all were boarded up inside the royal chambers. The royal family and those they loved and trusted were boarded up inside the King and Queen's rooms. The torches were alight, the fires burning, herbs on the smoke all around the room that couldn't afford to get sick. "Why are we here? Why is grandmere crying? What's happening, mama?" he sobbed. Mary shushed her child.

"It's all going to be alright," she whispered, rocking him back and forth. Nobody was spread around the room, they were all huddled up inside the large chambers, mainly around the bed. The children were confused and upset, the only person not to be included in the huddle was Catherine de Medici, who cried alone beside one of the windows. She only went to her eldest son's side, to hold him, before going back to the window. She'd been doing so for hours, ever since the threat of plague had been announced the night before at the party, when the Italian Ambassador had fallen ill.

But they had all heard the music, over and over again. Many people were falling ill. And they could do nothing to protect them.

"What's happening, mama?" he whispered into her neck. The royal children, even James, were clinging to their parents even more frequently than usual. Anna and Jean were held in separate rooms, but everybody else was in this room. This hot, sweaty, fear filled room.

"People are getting sick, love." she whispered into his blonde curls. "But we're going to get through this." she said.

Mary only hoped she could keep that promise.

~~

Yawning, the Queen of Scotland pulled her head up from the King's shoulder, slowly observing all around their surroundings. It was dark now, the candles lit and the fire burning. If possible, even quieter than the morning. She could hear the echoes of the infection melody and bit her lip in sympathy for the poor soul who would soon leave this world, before observing the inhabitants in the impressive room.

Bash and Kenna were awake, the former standing by the window where he could observe the grounds and the large lake. The latter sat with Meredith close to her, tending to the other children by brushing her youngest's dark curls back with a gentle caress, the eldest reluctantly fiddling with a rag doll. She noted that the Baron was upset, but like both he, his King and their father, he seemed to inflate with his fear. Eyes red with tears and cheeks dry, but his body bigger as if trying to protect those he loved from infection. 

Leith sat upon one of the settees, his fair haired wife's head in his lap as she slept, large bump extending out from underneath the blue lace gown she had been wearing for quite a while. Their litter, both biological and step, sat upon a rug cuddled together with small trinkets upon the salmon blush fabric. They -too- were quiet, but didn't seem to understand what was happening. None of the children really did, but they were still affected by the tension and fear present in the room.

Mary sat fully up, gaining her own husbands' attention. He looked her over quickly, as if checking her body for infection, before turning back to his youngest children who slept in his lap. Prince Francis sucked his thumb as he slept, little Princess Anne muttering in her slumber. They seemed peaceful enough, but Francis' posture was hunched, as if daring anybody to try and take his children from his arms. Mary took his hand, silently assuring him of her own and the unborn children inside of her's health, looking over his side as she noticed arms wounding over his shoulders now she had awoken from her slumber upon the nearest one.

Wearing a regal purple velvet with gold silk lined bell sleeve gown, the Queen of France saw her predecessor and mother in law hold her favourite child close to her. Catherine's arms were wrapped around her favourite child's braud shoulders and she rested her cheek into his other shoulder. She seemed to be pouting as she held King Francis close to her. Mary let go of his hand and he leaned his head onto his mothers', in a silent moment of solidarity and comfort from three generations of  the Medici in one.