"My lady mother." Mary lowers her head in the long shadow of the Queen Regent of Scotland and it's isles, Marie De Guise. Where Catherine was short and stout, Marie De Guise was tall and imposing. Raven black hair, piercing blue eyes, a long nose and high cheekbones, topped off by pale skin and dark robes. Catherine's large waistline from Henri's birth is none existent in the thin French-born Scottish Queen. She is just as icy cold as the Italian-French Queen is, where although Catherine has eyes and open arms for her children, the Scottish Queen is treated to no luxury as Marie de Guise lowers herself to a quick curtsey to her daughter, although her eyes pierce the honey gold of her only living daughter as she lowers and raises.
The Dauphin of France gulps audibly as he looks from mother to child. Whereas he is all golds and reds, his future bride wears the colours of her mothers house, blue and silver. And while he stares at the imposing woman with wide blue eyes, Mary does not seem particularly bothered of the aura her own mother gives off, almost despondent, disappointed maybe, as though a child who knows she will be scolded and can do nothing about it. He doesn't understand why she acts as she does, for she has done nothing to earn a scolding, while he himself is instantly fearful of this cold, graceful raven, who takes her daughters' hand in hers. The one he himself is not gripping for dear life.
"My own Daughter." Marie says, her voice silky and smooth, but it does nothing to curb the nerves he feels at the sight of his future mother in law.
"Mother." Mary greets quietly. Francis shoots her another look. Mary is not quiet, she is not meek and docile as she appears now. No, Mary is a spitfire, quick to temper and always running around, wild and fearless in the face of attempted kidnappers and assassins and his own mother alike. Nothing like this quiet little bird, who is almost defeated in the eye of her mother.
The seven year old instantly does not like this woman. Not even just because of the aura she gives off, the cool judgement that reminds him of Sebastian's Lady mother. But because mothers are supposed to rush over to their children and scoop them up into the air and kiss their cheeks and gush over them, like his mother does to him, Elizabeth, Claude, Charles and now little Henri. Not slowly saunter over and curtsey and kiss signet rings, meanwhile barely blinking as they stare at their daughter, especially when she has not seen her in over two years.
"Your highness, Queen Regent." King Henry says, walking over towards Marie de Guise, lowering his head in the way Mary had.
"Majesty." Lady de Guise curtseys properly to the King of France, letting go of her child as she turns to King Henry. It's a rare thing, for a woman to nearly stand of a height with his father, but the former Queen of Scots does just that, when she stands to look the man in eye.
"My lady, a pleasure that you have come such a long way." the King of France states, looking at her in the way that he does his precious Madame De Portiers. Francis bites his lip as he sees that look, one he has seen over and over again.
"I could not object an order from my King. Regent I may be, but I am French, first and last." Marie says. Francis inhales as Mary's hand clenches his suddenly, looking over at her as she stares with narrow eyes at the two. Not with the scowl Catherine wears as she herself looks at the regent of Scotland and the regnant of France, no, it's different than that. He can't put his finger on it, though, he just holds Mary's hand as their parent speaks.
"I am glad to hear of it. You will want to rest after your long trip, eat and drink. And then we will speak of your concerns, my lady." Henry looks at her again, in that way, and Francis looks over to his mother. She stares at them with distain as the two rulers share a silent conversation, and he is again reminded of Madame De Portiers, and how upset his mother is whenever they leave his fathers bedchamber.
"Of course, my King." Marie curtseys again, before locking eyes with her daughter and the little Scots girls behind her. "Mary, girls, follow along. We must speak, too." She orders. Mary nods once, swallowing thickly as her mother turns away.
"What does she want to talk about?" Francis whispers.
"My mother is unhappy with how I am treated here, by your mother." Mary whispers back, not meeting his eyes. "She wants to take me back home, take all of us back home. She doesn't love me as Catherine loves you, but it's a comfort to know she will not have me in a fateful home."
"What?" Francis' eyes widen as Mary pulls away to follow her mother, who sweeps away in satin skirts.
"I'm leaving France, Francis. Because of your mother, how hateful she is. My mother will not stand for it, no matter if I do not have her love, either." Mary whispers, and then she pulls away and walks three steps behind Marie de Guise, the four little Scots girls following her.
Francis stares at them all as they go, and is unable to hide the anger in his eyes as he looks at his mother, the same way his father does. It chills him to resemble a man he knows is not the hero France makes him out to be, but he will hold this resentment towards his mother forever, if she has taken Mary away from him.
This much, he is sure.
YOU ARE READING
You Are My Light Part II
Historical Fiction-Reign Oneshots/Taking Requests- The world can be dark, Mary, and uncertain and cruel. The only thing that matters is that we face it together. No matter what happens, you are my light. Part 2! -Read TEML first!-
