106 - Scars *Modern*

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This is in the same AU as Part 35!

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"Francis." Mary hisses, glaring at her husband. The Dauphin of France says nothing, choosing to stand Mary in front of the large mirror in front of them. He stands behind her. "What are you doing?" she asks him, turning over her shoulder to look at her husband. He gently turns her face back around, slowly making her look at the mirror.

"Take off your shirt." he says, fingering them flimsy hem of her grey cami shirt. Mary raises a brow at him through the mirror, connecting their eyes from this position.

"What?" she asks, her voice full of confusion. Her husband hums behind her, pulling her unbrushed black hair behind her shoulders. He takes ahold of the hem himself, raises it an inch.

"Take it off." he hums in her ear. Mary pauses, before shaking her head, one leg extending out to walk away from her husband. Francis is quicker, hooking his leg around both of her own, forcing her here she is. "No." he says softly. "Remember what Rebecca told us? We have to do this." he says into her ear. Mary stared pointedly into the mirror.

"The therapist who can tell the world that the future Queen of France went crazy after her child was born and couldn't even bond with the kid, let alone feed her?" Mary rolls her eyes. Francis sighs, leaning his head upon his wife's. He closes his eyes.

"I wish you'd see things the way I do." he states softly. Mary does nothing. "Take it off." but before she can say anything, her shirt is whipped off. She gasps in mortification, standing there in just a black lace bra and some black joggers.

"Francis!" Mary yelps out, reaching out for the shirt, just as he tosses it away. "You-you can't-" she cuts herself off, covering herself up. One arm covered her breasts, the other covered her abdomen as best she could. "What if someone comes in and-" she doesn't speak, cut off by her husband pulling her hands away from her body, forcing her to look at it. She winced as if the sight before her began to hurt her.

"Nobody will, they're all serving father and the family their lunches." Francis whispered into his wife's ear. "But you and I, my love, have to fix this."

"Fix what?" Mary asked him softly, staring down at her feet. Gently, Francis placed his fingers under her chin, bringing her eyes back up.  She wearily looked at her own abdomen, timidly, as if her reflection told more than just what she looked like.

"Look at yourself." Francis whispers into Mary's ear. She glances at her body in the reflection, before turning away. "No, look at your body." he states, pushing her chin back again. Mary exhales softly, looking at the body before her. "What do you see?" the Dauphin of France whispers into the Dauphine's ear. She blinks slowly.

"Me?" she guesses softly, looking away from the reflection again.

"Stop it." Francis gently chastises her, bringing her face back to the mirror again. "And that's not good enough. What do you see when you look at your body?"

Mary's eyes fill with tears and she whimpers, but she now refuses to answer. "Francis, stop this. I don't want to do this." she says, beginning to walk away. She's trapped in his ensnarement, Francis brings her closer than before. 

"Tell me what you see in the mirror."

"I can't." she sniffles, reaching up to wipe a few errant tears from her cheek. "I-I can't." she whispers.

"You can." Francis gently reminds her. "You can, Mary. Tell me what you see when you look in the mirror." Francis states softly.

"No."

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