Tu Es Ma Lumière

48 - Assassination Attempt

"Ouch," the little Scottish Queen moaned, curling up into a ball. A week had passed since the thunderous argument between the King and Queen at little Elisabeth's anniversary of birth's ball. Henry had found out that Catherine had locked Sebastian in the dungeons after accidentally poking Francis with a sword when they were play fighting, and the entirety of court was still shaken from the two lions of France exploding into fighting with foreign dignitaries surrounding them. Ever since, Francis had been so sullen and continually moped after her. It didn't help matters that Mary had been horridly busy with her ambassador about the latest regency appointment, since her mother had yet again lost the power of Scotland to another Lord. Edward Tudor and Thomas Seymour -the boy King and regent of England- had taken full advantage of the fact that Scotland was again in disarray from their own hand, this time, and had sent a scourge of forces for another round of rough wooing. 

The six year old curled up into herself, ambassador McDade sending her to sleep for a few hours after he had caught her falling asleep at his side as they worked on their duties for the day. Mary hissed in breath, holding her stomach through the white nightgown. It was slightly swollen for some odd reason. The Queen of Scotland hadn't indulged in too much supper from the night before, so she was unaware to the odd contour of her abdomen. She scrunched up her little face, pawing at the white sheets, squeezing her eyes shut, opening her mouth to gasp for air, a few tears seeping into the white satin. It hurt so much.

She whimpered, the burning pain in her stomach not going away. It felt like she was burning from the inside. The pain was blinding as she rolled around in agony. It was far past the time for her to get up from bed, but could barely open her eyes because of her pain that didn't look like it was going away for multiple hours. Mary knew she had to get help, her physicians, Nostradamus, anybody. And of course, it was time for her guards changeover for the night staff to continue the duty that the afternoon staff left behind.

Somehow, sheer will power dragged her from her bed, the burning turning into waves of cramps that brought her to her burgundy carpet, a muffled scream leaving her lips as she hit the hard flooring in frustration and pain. She gasped for air, using her gold trunk from the foot of her large bed to haul herself up, before another cramp dragged her to the ground, another scream clawing out of her throat. This time, it gained her the sound of some rushed footsteps.
Weakly, she dragged herself to her door. Mary slowly pulled her suddenly weak limbs up into a standing position, opening the horridly heavy piece of wood open. Her long fingers gripping onto the strong fibre with all her might as, through now blurry eyes, she saw many figures, most dressed in black, but another in red and gold.

"Mary?" a voice asked. Rugged, dark, yet oddly concerned. "Are you feeling alright, child?" she heard a voice say. Was it King Henry? Mary sure didn't want to irritate the man after seeing the force of his fury directed towards the Queen. But then again, Henry was always on high alert whenever his wife -or currently, his mistress- was with child. And currently, Diane de Portiers' womb was swollen with another child.

She wasn't able to answer. Her world tilted violently and she managed another whimper, holding onto her stomach with all her might, reaching a hand out to the footsteps she faintly could hear rushing towards her, through water, it sounded.

Her knees buckled, bringing her towards the floor once more, before arms caught her fall and steadied her upon the warm torso of her saviour. Gasps could be heard, through water, it seemed. Was it the Kings arms? Or maybe the dauphins? Her skin contrasted with the cold floor as she was gently lowered down to it, her fever now being acknowledged.

"Get the Scottish Queen's physicians, now! The Queen of Scotland has been poisoned!" A voice yelled, before her world tilted again and she fell into the deep abyss of darkness.

~~

"Thank you for looking after me," Mary croaked, reaching out a pale arm and hand as King Henry, two of her six physicians, Francis and Sebastian -now freed from his days in confinement-  stood in various places around the her rooms. Francis barrelled closer, taking Mary's hand, barely able to see over the three mattresses stacked on top of each other.

"You're welcome, Majesty. However, there is nothing to thank." one of them smiled -almost fatherly- down at the young Queen of Scotland. 

"Who did this to her?" Henry asked, turning to the three physicians huddled in a triangle. "What's the origin of this poison?" he asked.

"We cannot be completley sure, sire, however, we can say with certainty that it was a mix of a few poisons, slipped into the Queen's wine."

"So, her betrayer and potential assassin is in my castle?" Henry growled. "In my home?"

"It is likely, sire. Our only culprit is backlash from the Queen Mother of Scotland's repetitive refusal to break the allud alliance and wed the Queen of Scotland to the King of England once more." another replied as Mary was tended to with more tonics being forced down her throat.

She turned at these words, as did Francis and Sebastian.

"The English tried to kill her?" Francis asked, his voice squeaking in alarm. "Tried to take her away from me?" he asked again.

"It seems so, Francis." Henry sighed. "We must inform the Scottish parliament about this latest threat." he stated, but his eldest son's eyes told him that they required nicer words than that. "She will be fine, boys. No need to worry." he stated, cringing. After all, King Francis had never shown he or his brothers a slightest hint of tenderness -or even liking, apart from the Dauphin, of course. Francis had always been the favourite to the King. Fatherhood may have came naturally when it came to Sebastian, but he had never been good at comforting the child.

"The King of France is correct, my Queen." her favourite physician gruffed. "Just rest here for a long while, I wouldn't advise getting up from your bed for many days." he ignored the Queen's pout. "Servants will bring more water than normal, and you will be treated with the appropriate medications." he smiled, voice raspy. Slowly, the King and the phsicans all left until it was just the children inside the infirmary.

"I was scared." Francis whispered, sitting down on her bed.

"I will be fine, Francis. You heard them." she tried to smile, but her eyes showed her fatigue.

"I know," he tried to smile, leaning down to brush a sweat matted curl from her face. She wanted to comfort him, so she weakly craned her neck up and kissed his cheek. The Dauphin of France pulled back slowly, eyes wide, hand on his cheek. He flushed adorably. A beam spread across his face. "Catch me!" he suddenly yelled, running away from the bed as his half brother chased him around Mary's impressive chambers. The Scottish Queen laughed as Francis was tackled onto a mound of pillows and blankets, squealing as one of them burst and sent feathers all around he and his brother. Sebastian gasped in irritation, but his brother gasped in surprise.

"Look, Mary, look!" he smiled, pointing up at the feathers as they fell. "It looks like snow!"

It really, really did.