Tu Es Ma Lumière

38 - Queenhood

Little Princess Mary Stuart giggled with her fair haired counterpart, running away from him as he chased her around the royal children's playroom of French Court. Connected to the royal nursery in which the Queen of France spent most of her time, the children were glad to be away from her overbearing-hawk like eye. Recently, with the first snowfall of winter, she had been terrified of Francis, Mary, Elisabeth and little Claude getting a chill should they go outside. So, the royal children -including Sebastian and Mary's four ladies in waiting- were confined to the castle walls. The boys grunted and growled with irritation and anger, for they enjoyed the outdoors much more than the confined parish of the indoors. But, what the Queen wanted, she got.

The young Duchess of Rothsay and Edinburgh quickly scaled the rest of the pillows they had placed onto the floor and jumped up onto the bed where the other children were perched, giggling when Francis scowled at having been beaten. He scowled, but the lightness in his eyes couldn't be denied, nor the flush in his cheeks. His overbearing mother may have prevented their fun from going outside for another snowball fight, but the Queen Consort of France couldn't prevent another round of an odd combination of the floor is lava and tag.

Well, maybe she could.

"What are you doing?!" the shrill voice squawked when she saw Francis chasing his bastard half brother around. She made them jump, the elder of the two loosing his footing and falling onto the carpeting. Little Mary Fleming gasped when she saw it, but said and did nothing, fearing the Queen's wrath.

"Playing, mama." Claude chirped from her perch on the bed, smiling with little Mary Livingstone, playing a small game with a few beads the girl had fall from her hair.

"Don't you know how dangerous what you're doing is?" she huffed, storming over and starting to fret with Francis' hair and face, seeming to be checking him for bruises. She knelt to his little height and placed her head to his chest, ignoring his grunts and growls of irritation and embarrassment that were made even worse when he caught Mary and Sebastian smirking at him, their eyebrows risen. Both had long given up on trying to attain the Queen's favor, now rather relishing in the fact that they didn't have it. It was rather humorous to watch her fret over her favourite, after all. After feigning to hear any wheeze's in Francis' chest, she got up and scowled at them all. "one of you could fall and bruise and you could get hurt! I sent you in here to be quiet for Louis! But instead I find you ruining Venusian pillows and cheering as my son could get hurt." Francis rolled his eyes -a trait he picked up from his fiancee, something his mother noticed and scowled more at- whilst Claude, who showed every sign of being her mother's daughter even at the tender age she was, spoke back to her.

"Honestly, mama. We're all fine! We're not hurting ourselves, look, there's pillows and carpets!" she pointed a tiny finger at the little game they were playing. "We're not even outside!"

"Be that as is may, you must all remember the ramifications if Francis gets hurt and can't play the role of King when the time is right." she huffed. Mary rose another perfectly shaped brow. How could he get hurt and possibly die? They were playing on pillows and carpets! "And you, madam," she spat at her, bringing a grin to Mary's face. Catherine had once tried to intimidate her, but now she simply amused her. "must learn to take care of your fiancee, you will be doing it until you leave this world!" the Consort of France barked, before settling. "No more with this foolish horseplay. You will fix this room before sitting quietly together." Catherine ordered. "God, is it that hard to read?" she mumbled to herself. "That is an order!" she demanded, before storming out of the room to probably check on little baby Louis.

"She is far too dramatic." Mary Beaton mumbled, rolling her pretty hazel eyes.

"I know, right?" Francis rolled his eyes again, bringing a pretty smile to his future wife's face. Francis had been such a timid boy when she had met him two years ago, to see such rebelliousness was nice to see.