Tampered Beauty

Broken Crown

He walks stealthily through the darkened hallways of his court, the place that seemed so foreign and unknown to him now. Although the plague had died almost as soon as she was born, things changed for him, leaving him out in the wild with his sinful family for the rest of his reign. He hadn't really reigned at all, for his first day as King, he had ridden off to find said sinful family. Although comfortable in a small cottage a few days ride away, just to the east, they had been completely cut off from society, receiving no word on the state of court or of France.

France, herself, had prospered, it was obvious. Plague and famine were followed by great harvests and political miracles, for there hadn't been a hungry man in sight ever since he took the throne. Or, when she took the throne.

He hadn't heard anything about his wife, but figured she'd either stayed at court -still able to be perceived as the lawful Queen- or had gone home, to her birth written throne. If that was the case, then he would give her props for ruling so well, before going to his other country to reclaim what was his.

Their footsteps padded against the cool stone of the flooring, before they turned a corner and came to a darkened doorway. His hand pushed against it, and it obeyed its King, slowly swinging open to reveal the bedchambers of Dowager Queen Catherine de Medici. 

The former Queen sat quietly at her desk, mixing liquids together in small containers, muttering to herself, smiling a little, as the fire crackled behind her. She wore dark autumnal clothing, orange hair pinned up, a small black crown nestled into the curls. Her head snapped up as he entered the room, sinful family in towe.

He stood proudly in the doorway, ready for his judgement.

Catherine stood up sharply, her lower stomach hitting against the black wooden table, spilling a few vials. Their eyes instantly connected, neither saying anything.

Moments passed by like hours. Catherine's mouth finally opened -ever so slowly- in a silent scream. As the shock passed, her skin began to pale, looking even more white against the darkness of her clothing. 

He stood still, hands knotted behind his back, not saying anything, tilting his chin upwards slowly, ready for his judgement of his actions.

Catherine finally moved, walking slowly over towards him. He lowered his gaze to catch her line of sight -as is she'd ever look away from his azure gaze after years of being depraved of it- not reacting as a shaky hand slowly raised up to meet his cheek.

Catherine's palm touched her eldest sons' cheek, the fingers trembling, the palm sweating as they became antiquated with his auricomous hairline and the curve of his jaw.

Her voice was soft, so soft, as her hazel eyes lined with tears.

"Francis, my son." she whispered. Her resolve gave out and she yanked the King into her arms tightly, never wanting to let him go again. He willingly returned her embrace -just like the last time he had returned from prolonged time away from French Court- not the only one reluctant to let go. As scheming and conniving as she could be, Catherine de Medici always put her children first and had always tried to be a good mother.

Suddenly, she yanked herself from his arms and threw a stiff palm at his cheek, creating a loud 'smack' that echoed through the room.

"How could you do that?! Desert your Kingdom immediately after your fathers' death! You've been gone so long, we thought you were dead!" she cried, the tears sliding down her face. "But, you're alive. My eldest son, my golden child still walks amongst the living." She smiled through the tears, cupping his face. Despite the stinging and the mark of the palm, he smiled softly at her.

"I had to find my child and his mother, mother." he finally spoke. "I couldn't let them die in the plague, if I had the chance to save them."

"Lola, Lola and your child." Catherine trailed off. "Mary told me that she was to give birth to your first child." Catherine stated slowly, watching as the Lady Lola walked into the room, holding the hand of a fair haired, dark blue eyed little boy in blue. Catherine narrowed her eyes at them both, staring down at the small boy.