Reign: The Haunting (4 page)

He blinked at his wife, her words echoing in his ears.
He was a good man.

“I feel as though I'm being haunted,” he said slowly, choosing his words with great care. “I see my father every time I close my eyes.”

“That is not haunting.” Mary smiled sweetly. “That is grief, my love. Whatever became of your father at the end, he loved you and you loved him. One day his visits will bring you comfort.”

“The roses?”

“A Scottish tradition,” she replied. “To lay flowers where a great man falls. Perhaps it was one of my ladies or my cousins. I can ask, if you'd like?”

Francis looked at her, Mary, Queen of Scots, on her knees in a filthy stable. She was more than just a queen, she was the most amazing woman he had ever met.

“No need,” he said, sitting up and embracing her. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in deeply. “The only word you need send is to Lola. Tell her my son is going nowhere. It was a foolish idea. I've been foolish.”

“You've been a man,” Mary said, relaxing in his embrace. “And while you may be a king, you must never forget you are still a man, made of flesh and blood. And that's why a king has a queen and a man has a wife. Promise you won't keep anything from me in future?”

“I promise,” Francis said, knowing full well that it was a lie, but meaning to keep his promise in all aspects but one. “I love you so, Mary.”

“And I love you,” she replied, meeting his lips with a deep, warm kiss that promised so much more than her words. “Whatever troubles we encounter, we will face together.”

Nodding, Francis rose to his feet, holding his hand out to his wife.

“Together,” he said, winding his fingers through hers as they walked back toward the castle.

The dawn light that had chased Francis all week was nowhere to be seen when he opened his eyes the next day. His bedchamber was in complete darkness.

“Not again,” he moaned in a whisper so as not to wake Mary, closing his eyes against the night. When he and Mary had fallen into bed the night before, he felt so sure that he would find rest. The warmth of her bare skin against his chest had soothed him into sleep so quickly, the last thing he remembered was smiling.

But here he was again. Wide awake in pitch darkness with not a single sound to be heard. He turned over, hoping the sight of his wife would lull him back into a slumber, but Mary wasn't there. Her side of the bed was empty, save for a few loose strands of glossy, dark hair.

“Mary?” He sat up sharply, immediately alert. “Mary, where are you?”

The door cracked open as he spoke and the queen of France pushed her way through the door, carrying a tray of steaming food and drink.

“You're awake,” she said, setting down the tray and sitting beside him. “You looked so peaceful, I forbade anyone to wake you.”

“Wake me?” Francis was confused. He looked over at the heavy drapes and saw, for the first time, the crack of sunlight slipping beneath the rich red velvet. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten,” Mary replied, lightly combing his hair away from his face.

“But I had a privy council meeting this morning, there are matters to be discussed.” He began to scramble out from underneath the heavy covers, but Mary pressed her hands against his chest until he lay back down.

“France continues to exist outside these walls,” she said, resting her head on his chest until she felt him relax. “The world continues to turn while you get some much-needed sleep. I brought you breakfast and you're going nowhere until you've eaten it.”

“Strangely, I am not hungry for my breakfast,” Francis said. He ran his hands down her back, his fingers finding the ribbon that laced her dress together, and began to unfasten it with a deftness that only came from proper rest. Mary turned her face up to kiss him and her breath quickened under his touch.

Whatever was happening to him, whether his father truly was haunting him or not, Francis felt a warmth growing in his heart, chasing the cold dark dreams away. He had saved the nurse, he had not run away, and most important, he had his love. Whatever darkness fate would throw his way, he and Mary would face it together.

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