"You will be the death of me, Louis. You cannot think of me in ways such as you do, I am married. Not just that, I am a Queen. A Queen who is married to a King, the King of France. Rumours like these could cause my death." Mary pleads for her husbands' cousin to understand, her heart racing at the thought of the crown costing her another loyal friend. Sebastian was bad enough, but this? This could ruin her.
"All the reasons you speak of, none of them are of the heart." he returns. "All the reasons why you keep me at arms length, the reasons you speak of, none of them are of the heart. Mary, you do not understand, how can you? I am aware of every movement you make, I am aware of every breath you take. I am aware of every time you take a morsel of food, drink a drop of wine. Even the breeze in the trees remind me of you! How can you deny these things? How can you think
I am physically capable of staying away after all the things you mean to me?"
"Louis, sit." she says, taking him by the wrist, walking him towards the chamber. They sit on a long sofa, the Queen well aware of the distance she puts between them, even more of the way he tries to scoot closer each time she closes her eyes. "You cannot have any feelings for me, none at all. Do you understand? I appreciate all you've done for me, killing those men at my command, converting to Protestantism to attain some sort of order in the council, but things like that cannot lead to things like this. I am married, Louis. I'm married to a King, a Queen in my own right. How can I jeopardise a marriage, the only thing that keeps my country afloat with Elisabeth lurking at the border, when I am not yet secure in my role in this life? I have no son, not even a useless daughter. I am in danger, a child protects me. Francis protects me, you may think you can protect me, but you can't, Louis. You'd put me into ridiculous danger, I cannot risk my life, my country, my marriage, just because of a girlish infatuation. I must turn from you, it's what's best for everybody." she goes to get up, but Louis grabs her wrist and spins her around.
"So, you're infatuated with me?" he whispers with a grin. "Let me-"
But Mary doesn't let him, because she lands an impressive slap to his cheek when his mouth inclines towards her. It's loud, echoing throughout the room as the Prince's face ricochets with quickness that's startling. Mary swears she can hear the little bones in his neck crack with the speed his face turns, and perhaps one of the sharp golden rings caught the skin of his chin or his cheek, because he checks his mouth more than he really should if he had anything like an ego.
"How dare you do that!" Mary suddenly snaps, feeling like the young Queen who had yelled at her ladies the night she returned from convent. "Don't you know who I am?! I'm a Queen! How dare you think you can just kiss me with no recause! You may have some infatuation with me, but that stops now! Who do you think you are, doing that to me! And if you love me as much as you say, you should know why I cannot even kiss my husband, let alone another man! Yet, you try and kiss me without me telling you to. What is wrong with you, man? No, no, don't get up. Tonight, I want you out of this castle, tonight. Go with your brother like a dog with his tail between your legs and I won't tell Francis what you did to me, go now! And pray that I never see you again!"
