54 - Introductions

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"Papa, where're we going?" young Princess Anne whispers, clinging to her fathers' hand as he lead she and her brothers over towards a set of chambers in which she -in all of her three years - had never been before. The small Princess, the doppelganger of the Queen, court always whispers, looks up at him in wonder as he chuckles. A gentle, fatherly chuckle.

"We're going to see Mama, my love." he stated, running his thumb over his second born daughter's little knuckles. His first, the eldest of his litter, was away in Avon with her mother, visiting her chateaux in her small lands of the barony de Velay. "You've missed her, no?" the King of France and Scotland asked, leading the two dark haired children over towards another set of doors.

"Yes, yes, yes!" the Princess exclaimed, smiling up at her father, showing him her tiny teeth. "I have, Papa."

"Good," Francis smiled. "And you, James?"

"Of course, Papa." James' voice was different than his little sisters'. "Is-is she okay, Papa?" James asked.

"What do you mean, mon amour?"

"It's just-" he sighed, the worry of his mothers' safety securely upon his almost five year old shoulders. "there was two, this time, Papa?"

"Yes, James. There was, but I promise you everything went fine." Francis stated. He definatley wasn't going to tell his eldest son about the three days of labouring that the Queen of France and Scotland had gone through to deliver the newest two Princes of France and Scotland. Long, hazardous childbirths ran in Mary's maternal family. And she was no exception, after all. Mary's first three births had been horrid, the first definatley being the worst. But the twins' birth put them all to shame. So much blood, so much pain. It had been so horrid that the papal emissaries had been joined by a priest to give the Queen her last rights before there had been plans to cut open her belly to release the babies. It hadn't gotten that far, of course. Miraculously, the children had been borne safely and healthily, and Mary had recovered enough in five days to see her family and husband without risk. "Your brothers are safe and healthy, and so is your mother." he finished, smiling at his too mature heir and son.

"Brothers?" Anne wined, just like she had done when young Prince Francis had been pushed from his mothers' womb. "I wanted a sister this time, Papa!" she wined, tiring of being the only girl of her mother and fathers' children. After all, James barely ever played tea parties or dollies, and Francis wouldn't sit still long enough to play his sisters' games.

Francis chuckled. "I know, mon amour, but we cannot choose if our baby is going to be a Prince or a Princess. We can only love them and pray that they are safe and healthy." he said, pushing open another door as the four of them walked. "But mama and papa will try and give you a sister sooner rather than later, I promise." he finished.

"Really?" Anne's dark eyes gleamed with the possibility.

"Of course," he smiled.

"But what if something happens to mama or the baby?" James frowned. "Grandmere told us that sometimes babes hurt their mamas when they come out."

"Nothing will, James. We must have faith, alright?" Francis asked, opening the final set of doors to reveal a spacious, grandeur set of chambers. Floor to ceiling windows with cream painted walls, open windows with a hearth burning bright -somewhat contradictory, but that wasn't important- and a large canopy bed with cream tulle bed curtains pulled closed with small silk ties. A few toys were scattered around the rooms, with candlesticks not yet lit. A rocking horse was facing the bed and the door, along with a few other nick knacks.

Anne and James stayed quiet as their father walked over towards the bed and untied the ties, opening the tulle bed curtains. He smiled at the sight.

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