Chapter 21

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That night, at the reception for the renewed friendship between England and Switzerland, Mary sat on her throne and gestured for Kenna to come towards her.

"My Queen," Kenna curtseyed to Mary. "How can I assist you?"

"You're aware that when the King is intoxicated, he takes a rather large," Mary paused to find the word that described Bothwell's increasing lust towards Kenna, "interest," she decided. "towards you, yes?"

"Yes, your Majesty," Kenna said. Mary gave her a look. Kenna smiled a little. "Mary."

"Pour this into the King's wine, it will guarantee us all safety from him," Mary passed her a clear vial with clear liquid held inside the glass bottle with a small cork. Kenna nodded and bowed a little, going to greet the man who had been attempting to make her his mistress for the last few weeks.

She watched intently as Kenna poured him and herself a drink, slipping the contents of the vial into the cup, before handing it over to Bothwell. With eyes hawk like, she watched his every move and waited until he had downed it in one gulp, before she indicated for Kenna to bring him over to her.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the court, I have an announcement to make!" Bothwell suddenly said loudly. Everybody silenced. "The Queen and I are expecting the next heir to our countries!" he slurred.

Perfect Mary thought, not listening to the reactions of her court, instead starting to plan her next move.

"Where are you going?" his voice growled. Mary glared at the space in front of her, continuing to walk away from her husband. The pregnancy had been announced a few months ago, she was now in her sixth month, enough time for suspicion to simmer down.

"Out onto the water," was the swift answer. She could hear his growl, but it didn't effect her like it had the first few weeks. She wasn't afraid of him now. She hated him.

"I'm going with you." he decided. Mary smiled darkly in front of her, helping herself get in the boat that her dearest Francis had made for her when news of his illness had reached them once again. She fixed it up, making sure everything was in order as Bothwell clumsily stepped inside. Mary cast off, waiting with baited breath until they were far away from the eyesight of everybody and could no longer see England anymore.

It all happened so quickly. One moment Bothwell was hurling insults at her, the next she had snapped and launched herself at him, grabbing two large handfuls of his black hair and forcing his head into the water.

Then, the real struggle began.

~~

Heyy!

Look at me updating whilst unpacking! This is gonna be my last update for a few days, so I wish I could make this a little longer, but I hope the cliffhanger keeps your interest until I return. I'm not really doing much on thursday/Friday time, so I hope to get an update or two up for a couple things. But if I dont, I promise that there's gonna be something on sunday or the following few days.

Anywhoo, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and this story on the whole. There's not a whole lot left for this story, so after this next chapter, it's gonna be mainly filler and fluff, obviously with tons of Francis mentions. So I hope the frary nods will suffice for the lack of drama. I think the main cause for it is Mary's real life English imprisonment was just sad and there was barely anything about it in reign. Maybe like 30 seconds before she died, but I hope that the lack of drama will go over better with the frary/francis mentions.

Anyway, sorry for the lack of updates and message replies in the coming weeks, but I will return, promise!

Love you all!

C

:)

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