"Isn't this ironic?" Mary chuckles without humour. "Two boys with two different women, one father born on the same day." she says, breaking the silence that had settled the elder three in the room, as the two women held their individual babies. One screamed and pumped his little fists in fury, while the other simply lay in his mothers arms, staring at that angered little creature.
"Yes, it is." Lola whispers, shushing at her small child, jiggling him up and down to try and stifle his cries. It doesn't work, he remains as angry and frustrated as ever. "Please, be quiet. Please." she whispers, her hair askew and damn near unsalvageable. She looks exhausted and sick, her face is pale and the bags under her eyes are almost black. The baby cries still.
Mary looks down at the small infant in her arms. He's so beautiful and serene, looking from the half-brother a few feet away to the mother clutching him so tenderly, gently running her fingers over his blonde hair, eyes azure and beguiled.
The common link between the two groups of two paces back and forth in the space between the two couches the women sit upon. One a Queen, the other the subject of almost all the gossip in the French Court. His face is drawn in concentration, one arm bound at the back, the other set of fingers touching his lip. Red, long doublet blooms and trails behind him as he walks.
Francis looks towards the sinful family he has sired when the child's wails do not cease.
"Is he alright?"
"I don't know." Lola says. She looks exhausted, sounds tearful, and Mary bites back the pleasure of watching her in such a state. "I-I can't get him to settle, I don't think he's hungry. He's had all of my milk anyhow. He's not dirty, I've checked. But-but I can't get him to settle."
Mary blinks as her husband kneels behind Lola and runs his fingers over the baby's bald head. She glares at the scene, subconsciously holding her child tighter. She's the one who had to go through a childbirth while dealing with a plague ridden country on fire, she's the one who delivered Francis an heir, a son, to have to watch this scene before her is tempting enough to get her to leave him and go elsewhere with her little Dauphin, but Francis comes up from his position on the floor.
"He sounds pained." the new King states. "Lola, fetch a physician to look him over."
"I can't, Francis. It hurts too much to walk after a depleting childbed, and even if I could, I wouldn't want to disturb any who may have been looking after those with plague."
"Go. Lola, now. I have other things to tend to. Fetch a physician or a midwife to look him over, now."
She hisses, but obeys, slowly getting up and awkwardly waddling away with the screaming child in her arms.
Mary relaxes when she can no longer hear the baby's cries, sitting back in the chair, as her husband comes over towards her. He smiles warmly at the two of them, the kind of smile she loves, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes and makes his face glow. He sits down next to her and places an arm around her shoulders, leaning down to touch and caress this serene little human who means so much to both of them. Because this child will mean a new future, a better one, for everyone.
YOU ARE READING
You Are My Light Part II
Historical Fiction-Reign Oneshots/Taking Requests- The world can be dark, Mary, and uncertain and cruel. The only thing that matters is that we face it together. No matter what happens, you are my light. Part 2! -Read TEML first!-
