Tampered Beauty

Revolution

"I am what?" Mary said, her skin suddenly fading into an ashen pale, even more than before.

"You're with child, Imperial Majesty. The King says you spent the night together around thirteen weeks ago, and the end result is this. You're with child, Majesty." Nostradamus repeated, "It is undetectable whilst you were unconscious, but now that you are awake, it is almost obvious. You're pregnant, your Majesty." Nostradamus added.

Silently, Mary looked towards Francis. Neither said anything to each other, but their silent conversation between each other was so loud.

"Are you sure, Nostradamus?" Greer asked. "It is easy to misidentify pregnancy." the blonde finished.

"I am, m'lady." he said. "You have been tired more often, from my inspection the night the Queen Mother and I came to Scotland, I found viable veins in your skin, the dizziness and fatigue." Nostradamus listed. "Without question, there is a small swelling in your stomach, and I am sure that it will continue to grow within time. Judging from the time frame the King and your handmaidens have given me, I am sure that your child will arrive sometime in the middle of December." 

Francis stared at Nostradamus throughout his little speech, before turning back to his wife, a small smile appearing on his face. He took a hold of her hand, gently running his thumb over the back of her palm and the line of her knuckles.

"Don't tell my mother," Francis instructed. "Although I'm sure that she'll find a way to get acknowledged. Before she does, she and I need to have a conversation." Francis ordered.

~~

"Mother." Francis said. A copper haired Queen in red and gold spun around, instantly beaming at the sight of her golden child.

"Francis!" she smiled widely. Donned in regal gold and red, her thick skirted gown with a long sleeved vest bloomed as she moved around fast. Heels clicked against the stone flooring as she proceeded to rush over and maul him, taking his head in her hands and pressing kisses over his cheeks and nose. She grabbed his hands and did the same. It was much like when he returned to Court after the liaison with Lola. 

"Mother, stop, stop, stop." Francis repetitively said. He pushed her away, but she obliviously smiled at him.

"Francis." she beamed at her favourite child. He attempted to smile, but her scheming nature had dulled the part of him happy to see his mother once again.

"Mother, we must talk." he said, taking her hands from his cheeks and bringing them from his face, bounding them at the wrists. Still, she beamed at him. 

"About what, love? Can we not be happy that you have gotten what you so pined for back?" she asked.

"And what is that?" Francis frowned in genuine confusion.

"Your family, of course! They're finally returned to you!" Catherine beamed. Francis blinked. 

"Which one? Mary and James, or Lola and John?" he asked. "You certainly think of one higher than the other."

"You know which one I mean, Francis." she huffed.

"No, I really don't. I had a family, mother. A genuine, true family that was willing to accept and move past my mistakes, but you threw a cink in the works by sending Lola from France to Scotland!"

"I did it to make you happy, to make you a better ruler! Your father and I taught you that you cannot rule with your heart, that you cannot wed the woman you love. It clouds judgement, you must put France first, before everything else!"