"Ugh," the intoxicated Scottish Queen groaned, spotting the harlot standing in the middle of her chambers. The large apartments had a dim, sensual glow about them, thanks to the many lit candles and the roaring fireplaces that danced in a waltz all of their own from three areas of the room. She started kicking off her red satin heels, deciding to let the servants pick them up whenever she was seen to, rather than put them in one of her shoe trunks herself. Mary started attempting to walk over towards the oversized bed that would soon join her husband and herself in wedded bliss. First light was finally over, the dim echoes of sleepy musicians finding their way throughout the walls of French Court. They had planned to have Lola trap a dim witted noble with more money than brains, but because the harlot had been vomiting due to the sickness her unborn bastard whelp had caused, she had stayed behind. Much to the chagrin of the Queen of Scotland. However, the Dauphin and Dauphine of France had thoroughly enjoyed the sensual music and the constant flow of sweetened wine. Things had heated up in the ballroom, giving Mary a few minutes to prepare herself for her husband.
"What are you doing here?" she complained, easily growing tired of Lola these days. The woman was foolish and ridiculous, and she infuriated her like no other. Mary slowly fell onto an oversized settee as she attempted to untangle her hair from its complicated braids, thanking the Lord that her Ladies had had the mind to leave it straightened. She didn't want to resemble Lola more than usual, for due to the fact they were distantly related by bastardy anyway, there was always a small resemblance. Even if one had more of an edge on beauty than the other. She finally untangled the braids at the back of her hair, choosing to leave her crown and jewels on. After all, Mary learned on their wedding tour that her husband always enjoyed seeing her wear nothing but candlelight and diamonds.
"I-I was told that you had retired from the ball and Kenna and Greer remained. So, I thought I should help you prepare for the night, should you require it." Lola stated. Mary rolled her eyes, getting an enjoyment at how rough her Lady in waiting looked, the exhaustion and grief in her eyes and her voice. Mary gave her a long look, begrudgingly accepting the help to undo her gown. Francis could get most impatient when undressing her and she didn't want to risk ripping another gown because of him. As sensual as it had been in the moment, Mary did enjoy her dresses not having to be fixed by seamstresses.
The Queen waited in silence until she wore nothing but a long crimson satin shift. She spoke up as Lola took three steps backwards. She glared at the fact Lola had the audacity to hold her hands in front of her womb, feeling another wave of hatred that only seemed to increase ever since she had figured out what had happened between her husband and what used to be her friend.
"So," she glared. "It's still there then?" she questioned.
"Y-yes, I'm still not properly showing yet. So, we still have time before-" Lola began nervously, quietly, but Mary cut her off.
"What?" she spat, just like that day, all traces of drunken excitement gone.
Lola stayed quiet, looking down at her shoes.
Mary shook her head at her in pure disgust, the alcohol melting any reservations she had for the little whore who had tried to take everything from her. "Well, your best bet was finding a husband tonight has came and went with the night." she paused. "You'd better run and find some noble's leftovers and try and attain a ring. You clearly have no problem with that," she glared, turning her back to Lola as she made her way to the bed, determined not to let this foolish little bitch ruin her.
Mary leaned her head on the bed, calmed by the scent of her husband entombed in the sheets. She felt her body react to his mere sent, relaxing her and sending an excited chill through her spine. Her heart raced and her eyes fluttered, craving her husbands touch more than anything.
"So, you're going through with it then," she called from the bed, remembering she hadn't dismissed the whore just yet. "Marriage and not abortion? Remember, it's still an option." she spat, opening her eyes to see her betrayer waiting for her to say more. She was turned to her, not having the gaul to turn her back to the Queen. She was looking down at the sheets, her hands tied in front of her still. She nodded once.
"Well," Mary scoffed. "I pity the child." she swore. "Now, run along. One of us has a husband who is on his way."
Lola let out a sob and scurried out. The door closed. And Mary smiled.
