Chapter 1: I Always Knew

It all started when we were younger and our parents negotiated a marriage between Francis, the future King of France and I, Mary the Queen of Scotland. We met for the first time when I was only six and he only five. We spent some years together before I was sent away to convent for my protection. We grew to love each other as children do but that was then.

Things change, I realized that when we met again after some time apart. And he kept saying

things such as, "Love is irrelevant to people like us." I'm not sure who he was trying to convince.

We fell in love not to say that there weren't some complications but we did wed and we had our laughs and our smiles.

But then there were some lies and half-truths and secrets that led us down a road of regret. Eventually we managed to find our way back to one another. Regrets were in the past.

Forgiveness in our future. And love everywhere.

"I always knew we would be wed, I knew. Ever since I caught your eye, watching me dance with my ladies at your sister's wedding. Feathers falling from nowhere." I told Francis as I remembered that very moment.

And here we are now, in a carriage, married, and on our way to dance underneath the stars in Paris. Just thinking about it now made my heart happier that it has been in a while. Francis was alive and well and we are finally able to get our happy ending. I couldn't have asked for anything more from God in this moment.

That was a few hours before Francis left me….for good earlier today. Why is there even a 'good' in goodbye? There's never any happiness associated with that word. Certainly not when someone leaves this Earth.

I can feel tears making their way down my cheeks and my throat struggling to let air out of my body. I'm in what used to be Francis and I's room, but I suppose it's just mine now. My cries turn to sobs as I realize that what used to be a life I shared with my lover is now a lonely nightmare.

I hear a knock at my door and a guard say, "The Queen Mother wishes to see you, your grace. Should I allow her inside?" It startles me ever so slightly, I wipe my tears and take a deep breath.

"Yes, she's welcome." I tell the guard through the door. The doors open and in walks Catherine, looking a mess. My eyes take in the sight of what appears to be Catherine de Medici with puffy red eyes. She's been crying. Perhaps, she still is. I realize she has a few tears of her own running down her cheeks.

"It's strange…..seeing you cry. Not a sight I'm used to." I admit when I find my voice again.

"Yes. Well, I did lose my son today." She said with a sadness in her voice, a sadness that I do not think she meant for my ears to hear and tears in her blue eyes.

My own eyes well up with tears for what seems like the billionth time today. I see in the corner of my eye, Catherine walking quickly towards me. "Oh, sweet child…" Her arms wrap around my body to comfort me. It reminds me of when Francis, oh, Francis….. I start crying harder.

A few moments pass, I cry until I cannot cry anymore. I feel my body is exhausted and yet I cannot even think of sleeping, not with Francis not around. "How will I ever fall asleep without his arms around me?" I ask, my voice breaking.

Catherine hugs me tighter, kissing me on the forehead, before saying, "You will learn again. It will become a second nature, I promise. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow night, but just give it some time. Tonight, however, if you would like, I could stay with you."

Something about her words and the tone of her voice comforted me. "Yes, I would like that very much." I answered. "I do not think I will be sleeping much though." I add.

"And that's okay, Mary, that's normal." She tells me, again, I feel some form of comfort from her words. I feel my eyelids closing and my breathing slowing. Maybe, just maybe, I will sleep tonight I think before falling asleep in Catherine's motherly embrace.

Chapter 2: You Are My Home

The light from the sun shines in my eyes, waking me. I feel arms wrapped around me, but they're not all that familiar. I slowly open my eyes, rubbing them, and lift my head. "Francis?" I ask, sleepily.

Then, I remember I fell asleep in Catherine's arms.

"Catherine?"

"Yes?"

"Is Francis….." I can't even finish my sentence. "...Is he…" I pause again. "...Dead?" My voice breaking, tears threaten to spill out of my honey brown eyes.

Catherine's eyes soften, tears welling up in them. I can tell she is trying her best to be strong in front of me, meaning only one thing…..my worst nightmare has come true….Nostradamus' prophecy had come true. Francis was dead and it was my fault. "Yes, he is, but know this, sweet child, you were his greatest joy."

My heart breaks in two, my breathing comes to a halt, and tears flow like a fast moving river down my cheeks. Catherine wipes my tears away. "I went to the kitchen before, to ask for breakfast to be brought up by sunrise. It should be here any minute. Be strong, Mary. Hold the tears for a few minutes, don't let anyone but those you trust see you cry. You are the Queen of Scotland, after all and we wouldn't want Elizabeth to know how easy a target Scotland is right now, now would we?"

"Take a deep breath." I follow her instruction. "Again." I take a another deep breath. "Again, Mary." I take a third deep breath. My heart is still in pieces at the bottom of my body, but at least I'm no longer crying. A few moments pass before there's a knock at the doors. Catherine welcomes the servants in, they bring all kinds of breakfast. Eggs, berries, apples, pumpkin croissants, coffee.

I thank them, they bow, ask if we need anything else, before leaving. My mouth waters, but my stomach disagrees, telling me not to eat. "I can't." I say. "Francis should be here, enjoying this with me. I can't eat knowing he will never eat again." Tears fall from my eyes yet again.

Catherine hugs me, kisses my head, before telling me, "At least try eating, Mary. Francis would want you to eat, to live, to love again, even."

I shake my head. Tears begin to flow harder down my face at the thought of loving anyone other than Francis.

We are walking along the shore, I stop. "Francis." He turns around, looking into my eyes.

"I never want to leave you, if James rules well…"

"You will never go home." Francis finishes my sentence. My eyes travel down to his lips, my left hand raises, I put it on his cheek. "You are my home."

He is. He is my home. Wherever he goes, that is my home. And now he's in heaven. One day, soon, hopefully, I will meet him up in heaven where we can spend all of eternity together living our dream. We'll have two beautiful children; Anne and James. As Francis once said, Anne takes after me, she's strong and beautiful. And James, I think, would take after Francis, have his curls and his eyes, but perhaps, my hair color. He'd be most interested in reading, but he'd have difficulty with it and Francis would help him. But both Anne and James would always chase each other around the castle, Anne is fast as lightning as Francis told me not so long ago, she always wins. It's all they talk about at dinner. It's bittersweet, thinking like this, thinking that we'll have this, but only once we're dead, that we couldn't have it here, on Earth. I feel a few tears slip down to my chin and past it, but I'm smiling, a small smile. Like I said, bittersweet.

Lola's voice breaks my train of thought. "Mary?!"

"Yes?" She must've come in while I was nightmare-day dreaming and I hadn't even noticed.

"I've been trying to catch your attention for some minutes now. You must try this. It's a pumpkin flavored croissant. It's abso-" She stops mid sentence after noticing my tears. "I'm sorry. I'm far too excited about food. Tell me, what's wrong?" She asks.

No one's told her? The King is dead. And yet, I feel as if no one at the castle is actually aware. I shake my head, unable to say it, I look to Catherine who is busy sipping of the coffee. She nods, edging me to say it. I can practically hear her saying "You can do it, Mary. You are strong."

I swallow hard, tears reforming in my eyes, my heart sinking further and further each time I remember the truth. "It's Francis….he…." I take a deep breath before continuing. "He saved me, but could not save himself. He's dead." I tell her, finally finding the strength. My vision blurs due to tears in my eyes, they fall, and next thing I know, I'm sobbing into Lola's shoulder and she is saying "Oh, Mary. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." I can feel her tears hitting my shoulder.

Chapter Three: You Are My Life

It's been almost five weeks now. I've hardly gotten out of bed. I cling to the smell of Francis left behind in the sheets. Catherine comes to check on me every morning along with Lola and Greer. They're always trying to make me eat. Sometimes I do eat, sometimes I can't find it in myself to eat with Francis not around. Today Catherine made sure I was bathed properly and given new clothes to wear. When I returned to my chambers, the sheets were being replaced. My eyes widened in horror. "No, what are- Catherine, what are they doing?" I felt tears spring up in my eyes.

"I know why you kept them on the bed, Mary, but they needed to be replaced." She replied, simply.

I shook my head. "No, no, no, no." I felt my knees go weak, before they hit the ground. I screamed as loud I possibly could before I sobbed into my hands. The servants left the room. Now it was only me and Catherine.

The last time I collapsed in sobs in front of Catherine was the night I was…..raped. I felt shivers run down my back at the thought of it. I remember how just after I told Francis I was raped, he said, "Mary, you are my life and I love you." I can still hear his voice like whispers in my ear. So soft and sweet, filled with passion and a hint of anger. Anger towards my rapist.

My sobs calmed down, my breath was returning to normal, but Catherine's arms still startled me. I gasped, slightly at her touch. "Don't worry, Mary, it's just me. It's only me. It's okay." I think she somehow knew I was just flashed back to night I was touched, unwillingly, by a man other than her son, my Francis. My eyes closed for a few seconds and I swallowed hard. I sighed. My eyes opened, wide and quickly, and my eyebrows arched. "He's gone. Francis is really gone." I looked at Catherine, tears filling up my light brown eyes again. My lips began to quiver and tears spilled from my eyes. I leaned into Catherine's embrace and sobbed again. My hands twisted around the sleeves of her dress, twisting it up in knots as I pulled her closer. I felt her kiss my forehead. "It'll be alright, child, it'll be alright, I promise."

I pulled away from her just long enough to look up at her and ask, "When?" Before sobbing again. I could see pity in her eyes through my blurred vision. "For your sake, let's hope soon." She pulled me closer, allowing me to cry.

Chapter Four: I Pray To God That You Do

Not quite five years passed since Francis died. I am to wed Henry Stuart, my cousin, Lord Darnley today. A man that as time has passed, I've come to admire, though not nearly as much as I admired and loved Francis.

I remember it like it was only yesterday, Francis was laying on the forest floor, his breathing slowing, and I was above him, one hand to the right of his head on the leaves that covered the ground, the other cupped around his neck towards the base of the left side of his face, crying.

He told me, "You must….you must wed again."

I took a sharp intake of breath, crying harder. He continued, "You must love again."

I told him honestly, my voice quivering, "I can't. I will never- I will never love anyone the way I love you."

I watched as his own parted lips quivered and he swallowed his pride before saying, "I pray to God that you do." It was the last thing he ever said.

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I didn't let them slip, instead, I wiped them away.

Sometimes I still wake in tears after dreaming of Francis' death. Other times I wake in tears for what could've been or what used to be, but is no longer. Today was one of those days, though I would never admit that to my soon to be husband. My ladies were currently dressing me for my wedding. Today was supposed to be a happy day, and yet here I am putting on the same dress I wore for Francis' funeral, with the same accessories too.

"Are you alright?" I heard one my ladies ask. My eyebrows arched, I swallowed hard, and faked a smile. "Yes, I'm fine." I lied, inside I was still broken about Francis and his short-lived life, about the love we once shared, the life we had and the one we should've and could've had. Stop, Mary, you are a Queen, you cannot show any signs of weakness in front of anyone, not even those you trust. Catherine told me that once, just before I left France, she had found me mourning Francis and my life in France.

"Enough. Mary, it's been long enough, no more crying." I continued crying.

"Stop. Mary, you are a Queen, you cannot show any signs of weakness in front of anyone, not even those you trust. Not even in front of me, not anymore. You are strong, child. Be strong. Francis would want you to be strong. For your people, for yourself, for him, and for Scotland."

I stopped crying and left the castle behind for the last time. When I finally got on the ship and it left the harbor, the only thing that I could get out of my mouth was "Adieu, France. Adieu, France." I kept repeating those words until I could see France's shoreline no longer. Then, a tear slipped down my face, and my heart sunk in my chest. "Adieu, France. Adieu, France. Adieu, France. Adieu, France….."

"Adieu, Francis, adieu…." I whispered underneath my breath as I walked down the aisle to my new husband, to a future without Francis. I felt one, single, hot tear run down my cheek and my heart sink in my chest. "Adieu, Francis, adieu….."