Festina Lente

Chapter One Hundred & Eight: Queen Consort of Scotland

Francis was pleased to know that his eldest daughter would be well cared for, he could not ask for better for his eldest daughter and he truly hoped that she would be happy. 

Walking down the aisle on her father's arm, Madeleine had a smile plastered on her face as she looked at her groom; she would be Queen of Scotland from today, she truly hoped her people would be welcoming to her. 

Despite the eight year age difference between them, the couple looked truly happy as they exchanged their vows and Madeleine held her husband's hand unable to believe that she was marrying for the first time. 

***

Casting her eyes around the court as they celebrated the marriage of the King and Queen of Scotland, the Dauphine smiled to herself as she rested a hand on her growing belly. 

There were high hopes that her first child could be a son, a future king that would secure the line of succession and Catherine prayed daily that it would be so. 

Henri had been thrilled when she had told him that their prayers had been answered, her husband coming to her bed not long after he had become the dauphin. 

The sudden death of his brother had changed Henri, he was taking his new role seriously and had sent his mistress away; something that thrilled Catherine as she revelled in her husband's attention. 

Henri had spent many nights in Catherine's chamber, there had been no doubt when she had discovered that she was pregnant only a month earlier with the royal doctor confirming her suspicions. 

There was high hopes that her child would arrive around the same time as the Duchess of Florence, the news spreading that Mary Tudor was pregnant again; a child for her cousin that would further secure the succession. 

There was even hope that she would be delivered of her child before Clarice was delivered of her third, the further news about her cousins making Catherine pray even harder. 

Filiberta's engagement had been confirmed by Francis and King Henry, the girl would come to French court one day in the future in preparation for her role as the Duchess of Calais. 

It was a grand match, one that Catherine would have adored for a child of her own; she knew that one day she would be planning marriages for her own children, marriages that would unite Europe if she had her say in it. 

Perhaps one of her daughters could marry the young Spanish prince, she heard that Isabella of Portugal was eager to make peace with the alliance after everything that had happened. 

Discussions under way for the future marriage of King Philip, the boy was nine years old and the need for a strong match for him was important especially with Spain in such a weak state. 

Henri had even hinted that talks were being had that might see his younger sister, Margaret become the Queen Consort of Spain but there were also talks about strengthening the alliance with Savoy as well. 

Catherine did not care for what happened to Henri's sisters, nor was it important to her when she knew that she must focus on the baby that she carried in her womb, the son that her husband desperately needed.

Henri would be king, there was nothing to stop that now and Catherine would be his Queen; the mother of his children, the mother of the future King of France. 

Her mind often played back the prophecy that the witch had given to her, the one that told her that not only would her eldest son be a king but so would two others. 

It was clearly her destiny to usher in a new age for the House of Valois, it was to be through her that the french empire would grow; she was certain of it, she could feel that this was her calling. 

Against all the odds, it had been her that had risen up from being abandoned in convents by those supposed to care for her, she had been trapped in Florence during a siege with no hope of escape. 

As the siege dragged on, voices called for her to be killed and exposed naked and chained to the city walls; some even suggested that she be handed over to the troops to be used for their sexual gratification. 

It wasn't until the end of the siege that she was finally freed back to the man that had cared about most, it had been from there that Pope Clement had set about finding her a husband. 

Catherine refused to dwell on the past, she closed her eyes praying for the soul of the only person that had ever cared for her; she cursed Clarice and Ippolito for making his last years so hellish. 

If they had truly cared then they would have taken her with them when they had gone to England, perhaps she'd have married an English Duke and retired to the country where she would have been happy. 

Catherine knew that her children would be the only thing that she could count on, she was their mother and they would love only her; she would protect them and give them everything they deserved. 

Holding her head high, Catherine refused to allow any of these people to see her sadness; she doubted they would understand how she felt given they were the reason for her sadness. 

No this would be her great revenge, it would be her blood that sat on the french throne when all was said and done; no one would be able to stop her, her blood would be well spent either way.