(Kinda a fix it, kinda not a fix it. Also, if there's any problems, I wrote this at like 3 AM, so blame it on that :) )
Mary leaned her shoulder against the cold glass pane. It was well past midnight now. And he had been gone for more than three days. The chill of the window was incomparable to the chill in her heart. He had begged her to listen to it, but to rule his country and keep order in his court, Mary had to let it freeze in her chest. She stared out at the moon and the stars, wondering if he was blanketed by the same ensemble, or if he was now nothing more than the atoms of the air in which she breathed.
It was a horrid thought, but since he had left the security of the castle, it was now a viable one. She desperately clung to the hope that he still walked amongst the living, but Nostradamus' words still chilled her spine. Mary prayed that he had been found and now awaited the plague's eradication to return to her once more. Once it was over, he would return to her and everything would be alright. They would get through this and everything would be fine.
But surely if he was -dead- wouldn't she feel something? The bond they shared was too strong for her not to know of his earthly passing. Brought about by his own hand, she thought bitterly, clenching her hand together so tight that the rings she wore pinched into the soft skin of her palm.
How could he leave her? How could he reject her so mercilessly when she needed him the most? Mary needed him not just to be her King, but as her husband. In such a short amount of time, they had lost over one hundred court members. From ambassadors to horsemen, from nobility to servants. She was frightened. She was so young yet, not seven seventeen. She wanted comfort, to be held, to be protected, to be told everything would be alright. But the one person she needed to comfort her was gone. He had abandoned her, left her all alone. Rejected her in favor of her best friend. The mother of his child. How could they have gotten themselves in such a mess?
Mary was well aware that it was near enough impossible to have a child now. They had been married for months, and still nothing. Barren Queen, forced to live in misery as her husband doted upon his bastard and didn't even lay with her anymore, thinking it useless. And if by some miracle he came back, that was the life she was to lead. And if he did not, Mary would live the rest of her life with the slander of a childless marriage. Instantly, her marriage opportunities would be halved, for no King or Prince would want to wed a woman who couldn't give him heirs, claim to England or not.
How could he be so foolish? Why was he acting so recklessly, so sentimentally? Did he not realise he could die from running into the plague? Or, did he simply not care? Did Lola mean so much to him that he would risk everything to protect her from herself? Or, did she herself mean so little to her own husband that he would risk their rule, their marriage, their life together, all for Lola?
Did he not realise what he was risking by running? The man who had sworn to put France above all things, at his first hurdle as King, he runs from all of his responsibilities? What kind of man did she marry? Or what kind of woman was she turning into that she didn't understand why he left? If the plague wasn't an issue, she would understand. But it was, and now he was putting everything they had on death's dealer's table. If he died, all hope for aid for Scotland would become null and void. This alliance would be for nothing. And France would become even more in peril than it had been under the mad King's rule, under little Charles'. He was too young to rule. He wasn't even a viable heir just yet. Catherine would have to be declared regent, but she wasn't ready. The privy council had never held the Medici blooded Italian in high regard. They would do anything to see her fall. And then they would attempt to suckle from the bosom of power themselves? And then, where would France be?
How could he be so foolish? Did he truly wish to cause her such pain? Would she walk for the rest of her life with the stain of a childless marriage just because of his sentimentality? Would she grieve for the man who had held her heart just because he wouldn't act like a King when it meant the most?
"Mary?" she heard. Jumping, Mary looked from the moon and the stars and turned to the doorway. There, stood Sebastian. It was dark, so she couldn't see much of him, but she knew it was him. The gleeming eyes have it away. His eyes were wide and his brow and the corners of his lips were low. "Why are you still awake?" he asked her.
Mary shrugged. "Why doesn't he want me anymore?" she asked. Mary thought French court was lonely as a five year old girl. But by God, she had never felt lonlier than she did now.
Sebastian hesitated. "Mary, I don't think my brother's actions mean that he doesn't want you," he paused.
"Then why did he leave me?" she sniffled.
Bash half smiled. "Because he's failing in his first duty as King." he stated. "We wouldn't have half as much trouble as we do now if he had stayed." he paused.
Bash made his way over to Mary. He sat next to her on the window seat. His leafy green eyes were illuminated by the moonlight. "I understand Lola's predicament was difficult." he stated. "but he's failing in his duties as King of France."
"And as husband." Mary finished. He nodded slowly. "What are we gonna do if he doesn't come back? Will we ever know for sure?" she asked.
"I suppose somebody will recognise him, he is the most powerful man in the country. And if enough people do, then I suppose that'll be that. You'll leave for Scotland and I'll see if Catherine wishes to throw me to the wolves as she did my mother." he half chuckled. "And if he comes back, things'll go back to normal."
"Accept I'll have to live out the rest of my life with a bastard step child." Mary bitterly added. "If it lives, that is." Lola's letter did say she was struggling, after all.
"Well, I know I can't make up for Francis not being around, you'll have me at your beck and call to help you deal with the plague." he half smiled.
"Thank you, Sebastian." she stated. "I hope I won't have to rely on you for long."
He held her hand, accepting the death of their previous relationship and accepting the new dawn of another. Of Queen and Subject.
