Itinerant

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"Lola, I think we need to talk about your liaison with Francis in Paris."

"Kenna, I can't do this right now." 

"Because you're tired. You've been tired a lot. You're pale, you're not eating, your new gown doesn't fit. You acted so strangely when you were at home with Francis. You're pregnant, aren't you?"

A pause.

"Fast work. Well done!"

Another.

"There is no better way for a royal mistress to secure her place. Look at Diane. If I could have managed it, but the king is well versed in avoiding such issues."

"Don't congratulate me. I'm not Francis's mistress. It was one night. A-A moment of comfort. Do you have any idea how this will shame my family in Scotland? And what will it do to Mary?"

"I understand that you're worried. Mary won't take it well, not at first. But think of it, in time, she'll recover, and Francis will be a loving father. He'd want the child to grow up here, and he'd probably let you raise it."

"Let me? I'm the child's mother."

"Yes, well, I'm sure that you would play some part. As long as you don't anger Mary and you keep Francis's interest. Regardless, Lola, your position at French court is assured for life."

"For life? But as what? Kenna, I can't do this."

"Lola!" Kenna shrieked as she stormed into Lola's chambers the next morning. From the small bed, the short little Lady shot up from her seat and looked Kenna in the eye. Blue eyes were ringed with red and her face was flushed. Her hair was messy and her gown and crochet cardigan crooked. Posture was crooked and her body pale and slumped. She looked exhausted. From inside the little chambers, the Lady's little bastard ran around, yelling and screaming in a tongue that wasn't any language. Neither gave him a second look, simply stood looking at each other. Neither spoke.

Lola looked horrible, but a sick part of Kenna was satisfied by the dishevelled apprentice of the former Lady in Waiting. Her white gown was ill fitting, clinging too tightly to her bodice and falling too low on her chest, the skirt was too puffy and embroidered roses were too small. On her biceps, a crimson-rose crochet cardigan hung loosely, one shoulder exposed. Brown curls were messy, the remnants of a bun falling out of place on top of her head. No jewellery, nor nothing on her feet besides the far too long skirt.

"Kenna, what is it? Is it Mary?" Lola asked, fiddling with her hands, looking her friend in the eye nervously. Her voice was dry and cracked on the fourth word. She looked horrible and sounded exhausted. Kenna's dark eyes narrowed as she looked at her fellow Scottish noble blooded woman. Her eyebrows furrowed, the well dressed Baroness in wrinkled golden satin didn't look much better, however. Brown silky hair was messy and there were bags under her eyes, having been up the whole night with Mary. The Empress still hadn't woken and had turned a deathly pale during the night, her fever had worsened and still hadn't broken. She hadn't moved a muscle even, hadn't cried out after another fever spike, she hadn't done anything but lay there for over a day.

"No. It is not. She's still asleep. Has been for almost an entire day, now. I do believe that she told you that you may stay for a night, then you must leave. Judging by the look on your face, I am right. So, if that it the case, why have you started unpacking?" Kenna asked, brushed a few strands of messy, matted brunette hair out of her face. Some parts of her hair had been braided back, but most of it had fallen loose. Her makeup was smudged after a night of having it on and her gown was wrinkled, all gold satin and white organza in a rumpled state. There were bags under her eyes, more viable than the nights she had Meredith when she was a newborn that didn't sleep through the night. She was even worse than Rose, who although was a good baby, the girl was nocturnal. A stark contrast to James and George who took to sleeping at night like ducks to water.

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