Reign One Shot
"It's going to be okay," Francis assured patting the damp cloth along your forehead attempting to mop your brow.
Your fever was higher than it had ever been before, and the doctor had no certain diagnosis for whatever was causing your illness. It had started a fortnight prior when you had to excuse yourself from dinner due to nausea, soon you were sick and having to lie down due to how dizzy you were becoming. Now you were told to stay in bed to keep up your strength, forced to take herbal remedies and whatever new things the doctor suggested would assist you.
"You do not have to stay with me," you whispered, your throat hoarse. "It is very unkinglike to act as my nursemaid."
He shook his head, shushing you as he ran a hand through your sweat sodden hair, keeping the cloth draped across your forehead to try and cool you down. The doctor had stated that you must sweat out the fever so were still in your nightclothes with the sheets covering you, no matter how hot you were.
"I care not what others think of me. You are my queen Y/N and when you are in your time of need, I shall not leave your side. It would be far easier to get your lady's maid or a nursemaid to care for you, however until you are back on your feet and well, I shall not leave your side. It shall not put France in crisis for the King to stay by his Queen, if anything it'll become a national holiday that they monarch is loyal to their spouse," he smiled softly.
Taking the cloth, he dunked it in the bucket of icy water that had been brought to you for that purpose. He rung it out moving it to rest on your forehead again.
"I love you Francis," you whispered.
A tickle was felt in your throat, so you reached across to grab the handkerchief that was discarded on Francis' lap, raising it up to your mouth to catch the cough. You coughed into the white cloth but as you moved it away from your mouth, it was no longer white. Red was splattered across it as another cough hit forcing more blood into the handkerchief.
"Francis," you croaked desperately, fearful of what was causing it.
"Oh no," he said, a pain-stricken expression on his face.
Francis jumped off of the bed rushing towards the door of the bedroom, throwing it open.
"I love you Y/N, it will be okay," he smiled to you before shouting out into the hallway. "The doctor is needed for the Queen."
Your husband's name trailed from your lips as the last sound you heard before darkness surrounded you.
~*~
Written by Charlotte.
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