(all the dialogue is spoken in French unless Zayn and Harry are talking to each other or other English people, I just didn't translate it so the reading was easier :) )
March 1486 - Chateau d'Amboise, France
Arriving at the French Royal court seems less grand than gracing the gates of Windsor and taking your carriage along the miles-long path leading to the castle gates. This chateau is pretty, not fortified in a visible way and clearly not meant to be a fortress.
To be honest, Harry doesn't really care, he's just tired and wants to sleep. It's the very, very early morning and they've arrived earlier than expected. With the sun barely poking out of the horizon, Harry's certain the King nor the Queen will be waiting for them to welcome them as it is fit with other royals. It's not like he will be mortally offended. He doesn't even feel like seeing the King now.
After the draining visit at the Scottish court in Edinburgh, Harry wished they had the foresight to plan a little vacation before throwing themselves into another royal visit. England is safe in Melisende's hands, along with their trusted Privy Council. There's nothing to be worried about since their throne is safe and to their knowledge, no one's planning a war against them. They're like saints, really.
As expected, they're greeted by some maids and servants, along with a few courtiers and ushered to their rooms for the duration of their stay, excusing the King and Queen because they had other matters to attend to. Harry was honestly too sleep deprived to pay attention to what was said on their way through the chateau's long hallways.
They sleep for a few hours, the blissful ignorance in the dream realm being cut short by Peter, Harry's squire who knocks on the door and wakes them up, maids at his feet, saying the King will want to see them today and they can't be sleeping all day.
"For fuck's sake, we're Kings too," Zayn complains as he finally gets out of bed, long minutes after Harry. "Just because this is his court doesn't mean he can treat us like some peasants. God, if my Mother wasn't French I would've had a nasty word with the King but then she would have a rather nasty word with me and no self-respecting person wants that."
"Aren't you joy in the mornings, my love?" Harry chuckles. "We should be nice because as far as the stories go, King Pierre is like a petulant child and we don't want to wage a war with the said petulant child just because we adopted his attitude."
Zayn goes to the washroom with an eye roll, really slacking since Harry's already fully dressed. He decides to start writing a letter home while he waits around for breakfast, getting down at least the basics about them getting to court safe. He'll need to actually meet the royal couple to say anything more.
Some minutes later, there's a knock on the door, a French voice saying "Breakfast, Your Highness.". A slight maid comes in with two more servants, carrying trays and a trolley with additional sweets and pastries. They start laying it all down on the table in the sitting part of the spacious chamber, covering every available surface. It seems like the King doesn't want to be seen as frugal.
"Thank you," Harry says in French. "Has anyone told you when the King wants to greet us properly?"
"No, Your Highness," the maid replies. "Perhaps in the afternoon. The Queen will not grace you with her presence, unfortunately. And the King is very busy also."
"Why?" Harry asks curiously.
"She delivered a son this morning," the maid smiles, straightening her apron. "Did you not know?"
Harry swallows empty, trying not to let the words affect him. "No. We weren't told anything about this."
"Oh, I apologize, Your Highness," the maid flushes. "We all hope you will be around for the celebration of Prince Amaury. It is a very joyful time at court. He is the King's firstborn and already a boy."
"Surely," Harry tries to smile. "You're dismissed."
The maids and servants bow, scurrying out of the room with the swiftness of castle personnel.
Harry drops down at one of the chairs, staring numbly somewhere in the distance. It's impossible not to think about the loss of his own child. It has been just a few months since he had to wash off his and his son's blood off of himself and face the man that killed his unborn child. And now he's slapped in the face with the happiness of other royals, cheering for the birth of their firstborn son. Celebrating what a wonderful baby he is and what a good King he will be one day. And Harry will have to sit by and watch and smile at them like his heart isn't heavy with grief because while they have a party, he has a tiny grave he hasn't had the guts to visit yet.
It's been too little time since he had Helen crying in his chambers, cursing herself for not doing something about Warwick and his Mother too, blaming herself for all of it. Now Harry curses himself for not paying attention to these kinds of news. He faintly remembers hearing about the French Queen being with a child, back when he was too but he cared more about whether the French fleet was building more ships a year than the English one. Since then, he assumes no one told him about the news because it would've hurt him and they were right.
"Haz?"
Harry shakes his head a little, slapping on a fake smile for his husband. "Finally. We've got food."
"Are you alright?" Zayn asks as he takes a seat opposite Harry. "You looked quite... flabberghasted."
"Oh, it's nothing," Harry tries to dismiss it. "The Queen had a son early in the morning. I was just surprised."
"Love," Zayn says and Harry feels his hand on top of his. Harry's forced to look up from his plate, seeing the worrying look on Zayn's face he both loves and hates. "You don't need to pretend like everything is fine. I can see you're troubled."
"It's alright, really," Harry says resolutely, sliding his hand from bellow Zayn's and starting to pile food on his plate. "Things happen for a reason. Grief lingers for a long time but we have moved on, haven't we? There is time to fix things, to do it right another time. We have an opportunity to strengthen our alliances right now. If Warwick didn't almost kill me, we would have been sitting on our arses in Windsor albeit with a baby kicking in my belly but we would've been more miserable than we are now. I know that I would've been a proper pain in the arse because our son's death made me feel completely different about him and that wouldn't have happened just like that out of nowhere. I made some mistakes, I grieve my son but we can't change the past. Now, let's eat before we have to fulfil the things on our schedule."
Harry leaves Zayn stunned because this is the most he's said about the whole ordeal since the day of Warwick's execution. They both know the loss of their child was painful but in the long run, it wasn't a bad thing. For their reign, for their relationship, for the child too because he would not have been as loved as he could've been. If he was born, there was a chance they would not have any more children beside him and that is never a good thing for a King.
With breakfast in front of them, Harry acts like nothing happened. Nothing at all.
xxx
They see the King the following day, which is rather disrespectful, a child being born or not. Still, Harry tries not to be rude when the King greets them at a tennis court in the gardens, along with his mistress. When Harry sees the scene, he's certain the previous day, which he spent an exhausting amount of time chitchatting with French nobility and then getting drunk at a court party until he almost sat on Zayn's lap like a common whore, was miles better than this one.
"Ah, here we have the Englishmen," King Pierre says with a terrible, terrible accent. "Welcome to my court."
"Thank you," Zayn says in French, an attempt at a genuine smile on his lips. "We can speak in French, it is your court after all. When you come up for a visit to Windsor, then we can switch languages."
"That is fine by me," Pierre shrugs, swinging his tennis racquet around. His mistress has one too and she seems rather undisturbed at the presence of two foreign Kings. Is this actually rude or is it just how the French court works? Harry's quite unsure but he expected something slightly different. Perhaps an official welcoming audience and then a banquet like it was in Edinburgh and pretty much how it should be everywhere?
"Oh, I nearly forgot," Pierre laughs, pointing at his mistress with his racquet. "This is Nicola, my official mistress."
"Nice to meet you, Your Highnesses," Nicola bows this time, the racquet still in her hand. "We are grateful for your visit."
"Do you have your mistresses with you?" Pierre asks while picking up some tennis balls. Harry and Zayn exchange a confused yet amused look.
"No, we do not," Harry replies. "In fact, we don't have mistresses at all."
Nicola comes closer to them, giggling. Her cleavage nearly spills out of her dress. "Why is that, Your Highness."
"I married my husband out of love," Harry replies somewhat coldly. "I do not want to seek the embrace of another man or a woman because I do not care for them. I see it as a betrayal."
"Ah," Pierre finally straightens up, throwing the tennis balls one by one to a basket. "You two have quite the interesting story connected to your marriage. Ran off after a battle and got married in secret, wasn't it?"
"We stopped a war, didn't we?" Zayn says, narrowing his eyes at King Pierre. "We got a marriage out of love and peace, what more could we ask for?"
Pierre laughs coldly. "Oh, there is so much a King could ask for. Riches, land, power. Heirs, perhaps. Did you hear? My son Amaury was born yesterday morning. Which is why I also got Nicola here some months ago. The Queen was pregnant and I still wanted some fun."
"Aren't you the ever supporting husband," Harry grins sarcastically. "Congratulations. We will make sure to visit Queen Josette and give her our congratulations. We are very sorry we did not bring a gift for we had not known that you were expecting the arrival of your child around the time of our visit. But we will make sure to send something from England for the little Prince."
He's being too nice considering Pierre's behaviour but Pierre has been King only a little longer than them, they've no idea how he's going to react and creating political enemies, especially with France who just were warring with them not that long ago, would be suicide for their reign. It's better to act like meeting King Pierre with his mistress is completely normal than ruin England with a war with a stupid but a rich King.
"How kind of you," Pierre drawls. "Now, we shall have some fun. Who wants to play tennis?"
"Tennis?" Zayn asks.
"Of course," Pierre swings his racqute around. "It is fine entertainment and it also keeps you fit. We are all getting old, aren't we? Well, maybe you two are not since you are a few years my junior. Actually, I am quite fascinated by all that you two have been through."
Harry's blood freezes in his veins. Great, now he will have to listen to Pierre jerk off about what a better King he is and the two of them. Fucking hell, why didn't they just go to the Vatican instead?
Pierre prowls around like an angry cat. "Your secret marriage was certainly a spectacle. Everyone was talking about it because there was the tale of great love and of great foolishness too because most people thought one of you would wound up dead soon. That obviously didn't happen. And then the excitement about the heir which was followed by the unfortunate poisoning by your very step-father, Lord Warwick. Such a tragedy. I am very glad to see you did not let that ruin you and you are being good Kings. I will gladly be an ally of yours. Europe will be better with young rulers with a new outlook on the world."
"Are we here to recount our life stories or play, King Pierre?" Harry asks, his voice cutting. If they were sparring, he's not sure if he would keep himself from cutting off King Pierre's head.
"Oh, surely play," King Pierre stumbles over his words. "Shall we?"
"Please," Harry grins at him and tries to control his annoyance. Nicola gives him her racquet and Harry stands opposite the French King. He's not the best at tennis but he's determined to beat this stuck up cocky arsehole. No wonder the French are always at war with someone when their country is lead by fucktards like this one.
xxx
"Can you fucking believe what just happened?" are the first words that Harry says once they're back in their chamber.
"I can't," Zayn says, taking off his jacket and throwing it somewhere in the general direction of the sofa. "It's like... I don't even know. I was aware that Pierre was eccentric but this was outright insanity. In what world do you talk to visiting Kings like that? He was terribly rude."
"I know, right?" Harry sighs as he drops on the bed. "He had his mistress with him! While his Queen is recovering from giving birth! I'm surprised he didn't try to teach the baby tennis today as well."
Zayn laughs and joins Harry on the bed. "I've no idea what to think about him. Was he just genuinely trying to have fun? Is he insane? Was this actually just a ploy to get information from us in an informal setting? I am so confused."
"I think he has a cunning side to him," Harry says. "He is rude, selfish and self-serving but I do not think he is stupid. Lord, I wanted to have a sword at me so badly and just... hit him to see how he would react. But then we'd have a war at our hands and my momentary satisfaction of embarrassing him isn't worth it."
"You beat him at his precious tennis though," Zayn presses a kiss into Harry's neck and Harry can feel the smile pressed into his skin.
"That I did," Harry chuckles. "It was funny, seeing his face and him getting all dismissive. He's too used to playing against Nicola who, even if she was the best player in the world, would let him win each time since they're fucking."
"God," Zayn groans. "What was that bullshit about mistresses? When you were playing with Nicola he asked me how I survived without a mistress when you were with a child. It's insane. The man thinks about his cock first then his mistresses and then his Kingdom."
"Let's not talk about that dickhead," Harry turns to Zayn, grabbing his face and kissing him. "I am thinking with my cock now and it wants attention. Loads of it."
"Huh, does it?"
"Yes," Harry grins and pulls himself up into Zayn's lap.
"Guess we have to do something about it before you snag one of Pierre's mistresses."
"Guess so."
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Well hello, darkness my old friend!! I'm back! Have you missed me?
Zayn and Harry are in France and they won't be back in England for a few more chapters. There's gonna be some romance here too but Pierre will make an appearance again so I had to introduce him a bit more than I will the other European rulers they will eventually visit.
I can't guarantee very frequent updates because I will be working on other fics for an exchange but I want to finish this at one point or another :) Hope you liked this and please leave me some feedback so I know whether or not to continue writing this because it has been a while after all :D