Francis and Mary sat close together, Henry nearby, her ladies talking quietly amongst themselves. Francis was silent, probably foreseeing outcomes of this night, as was his betrothed, however. She was silent for a completley different reason. She was plotting how to make this night spare as many lives as possible. She knew how to protect them, she just wasn't sure how to make sure all of them stayed alive. There was two dozen of those men out there, only three people in here that could fight, however.
"Girls," Catherine suddenly stood up. Everybody glanced at her. "You mustn't be afraid. We'll find a way to keep you all safe, get through this night, and everything will be alright again." she plasticised.
"You come in here mouthing platitudes, but you have no idea what this is like, to have a target on your back." Kenna hissed, the fear she felt for her life evident in the sharpness of her words.
"I know exactly what this is like!" Catherine snapped, taking a pace forward to grab the room's attention. "When I was eight years old, rebels stormed the Florentine palace. Both my parents were already dead, but my name and my family's fortunes made me a target." Catherine revealed. Mary and Henry barely blinked, for they knew this already, whilst Francis and her ladies were in an uneasy silence.
"At eight years old?" Kenna asked, her shock overtaking her fear.
"War doesn't spare children. I was held hostage for years, until finally they had to decide what to do with this Medici girl. Many of the soldiers, just like these, they demanded that I be turned over to them so that they would..." Catherine paused, probably swallowing the bile that those memories caused. Mary understood. With things like that, she always understood. "so that I would be shared. And I'm not the only one who has known this pain and fear, am I?" Catherine asked Mary, looking down into her eyes. Mary met the Queen Consort of France's eyes, her own diluted into a near black colour, the gorgeous golden now gone. "You say you see a look in my eyes, well, I see the same in yours. It's obvious to anybody who has seen it. It will not happen again, not tonight." Catherine swore to the young Queen in which she had risen for a while. "And I can still hear their laughter outside the convent. That sickening laughter.
"What happened?" Little Aylee asked her. Mary leaned her head back, feeling the satisfying cracks, watching the Queen who wished her destruction speak again. "The nuns and I prayed. We prayed for God to send the Pope and his armies to retake the city and rescue me in time. And then one day... the laughter stopped. It grew quiet. And I stepped out into the sunlight, over their bodies, and Pope Clement welcomed me into his arms. I emerged intact and so will you if you have faith." Catherine finished.
"Well, that's all well and lovely-" Greer began, standing up. "but are we forgetting one rather important detail?" she asked. "Prince Francis and Queen Mary," she nodded. "We all know the Count wants Henry to suffer the way he did. What better way to attain that than give it right back to him? Take the heir, slaughter the sons, make the King weep tears of his son's blood." she stated. "And with Mary, he wants you. You claim a look in the eye, my Queen, Queen Catherine, but have you seen the look in the Count's as he looks at the Prince's intended?" she asked. Nobody said anything. "He wants you, Mary. To bed and then force you to wed. We have to stop that from happening. Ten years of planning wasted with one thrust of his hips." she stated.
"If that is true, Lady Greer -and which I suspect it is-" Henry began, standing up. "then we are indeed in for a fight with this Italian count. Let it be said in the history books, that I will never loose a fight when the future is the price."
