"I know this is going to hurt you. And trust me, Mary, that is the last thing in the world that I want to do. But as a man, as a father, I know that this is the best thing for my child. I'm sorry, Mary. But I'm going to claim him as my own."
The Queen of France staggered outside the nurseries walls, her back roughly finding the wall behind her. Her heart beat frantically within her chest, and her body trembled like a leaf in the wind. Her stomach rolled, nausea threatening to projectile her dinner from her stomach and spray all over the walls and the floor in response to her husbands' repertoire of words and future actions. Despite everything, her pleading, her tears, her reasoning's and her fears, he was still going to do it. He was going to claim his bastard son as his own before the world, and he was going to put so much more slander on his wife and Queen, but -if possible- more pressure on her to have an heir upon her shoulders. As if there wasn't enough already.
Her knees trembled, threatening to buckle underneath her weight. She brought a hand roughly to her mouth, to muffle the cries that threatened to echo from her lips and become one with the world. Why would he do this? Why would he be so willing -eager, almost- to hurt her like this? To harm her marriage like this? To rock a union they had worked so hard to create and even harder to force function? Did she know him at all, if he was ready, willing and able to do such a thing that would cause nothing but pain and suffering in the long run?
Her knees slowly buckled and she felt the cold flooring underneath the bunch of her skirts as she fell to the floor. Mary was coldly grateful that Francis had put his bastard in Sebastian's old chambers, for they were in a rather private wing of the castle. No noble would be walking around to see the Queen's humiliation and tears. It would be bad enough when the news broke that he was going to slap the label of bastardy on that poor child in the first place. When Court would snigger behind her back and whisper about her barren womb whilst Francis was free to procreate with everything that had a pulse and a pair of breasts, that would be bad enough. She didn't need the seasoning of serpent-like eyes upon her, as well.
"Mary?"
Damn!
Mary didn't look up, continuing to cry into her red skirts, hoping that if she ignored him for long enough, he would go away. Well, he didn't. Instead, the other person walked forwards and knelt before her. As much a show of fealty as it was a show of compassion and confusion.
"What is it?" he asked. Mary winced at the concern in his voice. He couldn't show that concern to her. She had already taken advantage of the poor bastard once before, nearly ruined his life and in many ways, ended it. She couldn't do it again. Besides, he was Kenna's now. She wouldn't take him away again.
"Are you alright?" he asked. Mary marvelled at the irony of it all. Henry had always been a calculating man, as long as she had known him. How could he have produced such compassionate sons? Well, in most cases, the younger of the two was compassionate. Not in this circumstance, however.
She shook her head silently, looking up into the beautiful sea glass orbs of Sebastian de Portier's eyes.
"Tell me." he stated. Mary couldn't answer, just cried again. She cried out of pain, humiliation, but also conflict. She could confide in him, and if her husband came out of the nursery and saw the two in an arguably intimate position, he wouldn't like it. It would hurt him, just like he was hurting her. And that horrid part of her would enjoy it. But the other couldn't do that to Kenna. It would no doubt get out, adding to the unneeded gossip that would surround her -she had enough already, now with the addition of undoubtable barony- and that would hurt Kenna. She didn't know if she was threatened by Mary in their relationship, seeing as though Mary was with Sebastian before he was with Kenna. Just like Mary would always be threatened by Lola in her own relationship. She didn't want to hurt her Lady like that, not just that, but Kenna was her friend. Apart from one foolish decision that was now reversed, Kenna had been loyal. Risked her life and well being to help her with Scotland when it was threatened. And unlike one of her other ladies, Mary would never hurt her friend in such a way, especially when it wasn't warranted.
