Francis,

While your rousing stories of court antics are very amusing I can't help but wish I was there to experience them as well. I've been here for so long, my time as a queen seems as though its a different life, a different person. I worry often that I am a disappointment to my homeland of Scotland and not worthy of the French throne. What kind of queen am I that sits idly, hiding from my enemies? If I were a man I would grab a sword and march to England, demanding Mary to meet sword for sword. No more tricks or assassins, we'd just face each other straight on. Not that I know sword play, improper for a lady or queen. Especially one at a convent. I'm losing hope Francis. I can feel it draining from me everyday that I stay here. I pray fervently to be filled with happiness, hope, anything and yet it is withheld from me. I can only guess for a bigger plan that I cannot see as yet. It's been almost five years now Francis with my only connection to the real world, the world I should be in, through your letters. They have kept me sustained through all this time but for how much longer? I'm nearing my sixteenth year and still the Le Crapaud holds a price over my head. When shall I be free? Since my birth the world has been against me and for a short time while living at the French court I thought I was finally home. A place where I belonged. But again my happiness did not keep. Will I die here, remembered as the queen that never was? Tis my darkest fears that haunt me in the night. I can't even recall the last time I went for a ride upon a horse. I hope someday I shall again. So little hope, but some remains. Some is enough.

Mary

The most recent letter from Mary sits before me on my desk with the candlelight flickering over her words. Words that are written in a beautiful script but that hold so much pain and sorrow. In frustration I slam my fist upon the desk and my ink bottle shakes precariously. Nearly five years she's been gone. We should have been married at fourteen but father pushed the date back and left her in her solitude. A solitude that is clearly crushing her very soul. And I sit here and do nothing. The whole court sits here and does nothing. Most don't even acknowledge her existence while she is meant to be their future queen. I stand and begin pacing my room in distress as I have done countless nights before. Trapped in my own kind of solitude where I am helpless and alone in my wretchedness. I try to imagine Mary, what she'd look like now, sitting quietly in a dark room. The only image I can conjure is of a frizzy haired girl with missing teeth. A smile pulls at my lips as I recall my memories of our childhood adventures. During those days we were practically inseparable. Perhaps we shall be someday again.

I hear a knock on my door which is surprising at this rather late hour of night. I walk to the door, grabbing my sword as I go. One can never be too careful, even in a castle full of guards. Quickly I pull the door open just enough to see who is standing before my bedroom door. I bite back a groan of frustration as I see Cordelia waiting there in a night gown that could hardly be considered such a thing. Cordelia and her father Lord Dubois have been more persistent for my attention over the years than many of the other ladies of the court. It has been more than exhausting consistently trying to send her away and keep her hands to herself. This is the first time she's dared to come to my rooms however. I make sure to keep my eyes on her face and put on the fake smile I've come to perfect.

"Cordelia, its rather late. Can I help you with something?" I feign concern though I'd rather slam the door in her face.

"Actually Francis -"

"Your Royal Highness" I interrupt. It won't do for her to assume we're on friendly terms. Better to keep her in her place.
"Oh yes, Your Royal Highness. I am actually here in hopes of helping you with something." She gives me a smoldering look and visibly looks me up and down. Yuck. I pull a thinking face and look at her questioningly.
"Hm. I can't think of anything I need help with. Thank you for your concern though Cordelia, goodnight." I try to close the door but she places a hand against it before I can.

"Come now, I know I can be of assistance helping you relax before bed. I can make you feel good Francis".

"Your Royal Highness".
"Er, Your Royal Highness". She pushes herself closer toward the door trying to give me a view down her nightgown. Really this is quite pathetic and unwanted. However getting her to leave is proving to be more difficult than I originally imagined.

"I'll be yours tonight. You can use me however you like, I'm yours to command. There are rumors around the court that you haven't taken a women to bed yet. I'm sure you're just itching to have someone. Let me be your first. We'll learn together." She bats her eyes at me and moves even closer to the door. I fight the urge to take a step back as she advances and bite back the angry retort that is on my tongue.
"For once the rumors are true. I have not taken a women. Because I am engaged. To the queen of Scotland. So far I have stayed true to her and I will stay so until we are wed. Goodnight Cordelia."
"Come now, no one expects you to stay true til your wedding. That is her job, besides no woman wants a fumbling man in her bed. Practice with me, your fiancé never needs to know." She smiles as though she knows she has won and begins to move forwards through the doorway. I can feel heat rising in my face and I vaguely wonder if my face has become flushed in anger. I slam my fist into the doorframe by her head and she squeaks in alarm.

"Listen carefully Cordelia. While my father may like to find company with others besides his wife, I refuse to be the same. I shall stay faithful to Mary and no-one, not even you will change my mind. Do not come to my rooms again, do not proposition me again, or you may find yourself in a very unpleasant situation. Do you understand Cordelia. Nod your head yes." Anger flares up in her eyes and I see that she is not going to go quietly.

"You should have just accepted my offer." She whispers angrily. "You'll regret turning me down."

"Not likely. Goodnight Cordelia, go find some other poor soul to prey upon. And go quickly before I call the guards." With that I slammed the door shut and listened to her angrily huff before stomping away. Finally. It really is a ridiculous time to be awake so I begin undressing for bed. I have just removed my shirt when I hear a knock at my door. If that damn woman has returned I will not be responsible for what I say to her. Angrily I storm to the door and yank it open.

"I thought I told you - Mother?"

"Francis! I'm so glad you're still awake, I have the most glorious news!" She's got a huge smile on her face and is practically glowing with excitement. Vaguely I wonder if she could be pregnant again but she had the twins Victoria and Joan not that long ago.
"Francis, the Queen of England has fallen ill. Gravely ill is what has been said. There is a very good chance that she won't survive it."

"So, Mary can come home?" I ask uncertainly, not wanting to get my hopes up. Mother grasps my upper arms with her hands and squeezes as she continues to smile.

"Francis, I already convinced Henry to send for her. The carriage and soldiers left a few hours ago and her ladies have been sent for. We're bringing her back while England is distracted. A week at the most and she should be here at court once again." It takes a moment for her words to sink in and when they do I am overcome with my own excitement. I wrap her up in a hug and hold her tight.

"Thank you Mother, thank you so much."

"Of course my son, I would do anything for my children. You know that." Playfully she tousles the curls at the back of my head.

"Now get to bed, staying up all hours of the night will not get her here faster." She winks at me and moves toward the door.

"Goodnight Mother."

"Goodnight Francis."

~MPOV~

As I often do throughout the day, I am sitting in my room gazing out the window at nothing. My mind is blank and my heart empty as I sit in silence. Suddenly there's a banging at my door before Sister Emile bursts in red faced, messy haired, and out of breath.

"Sister Emile!" I gasp in surprise. "Is everything alright? Whatever is the matter." She takes a moment to catch her breath before holding a letter out to me.

"You've been summoned back to court Mary!"

"I, I, what?!"