Reign

This is based off of The CW show "Reign" but it doesn't matter if you've seen the show or not.

It is the mid to late 1500s and King Henry II rules alongside Queen Catherine de Medici (a master at poisons) though he only sleeps with his mistress, Diane de Poitiers. Mary Queen of Scots has been living in a nunnery for 16 years, sent to French court to strengthen the alliance between Scotland and France while her controlling and apathetic mother rules in her place.

France and Scotland are both Catholic countries with Protestant England attacking Scotland and Mary is worried for her country. Not only that but she discovers that France isn't all that concerned with carving the alliance into stone, although Mary has been engaged to Prince Francis since they were children.

French court is a place full of poison, lies, treachery and murder.

Your role: you must choose a character living at French court during this time and navigate the constant danger and rumors of inhabiting the castle. You could be Mary, Queen of Scots, Prince Francis, Catherine, King Henry, a servant or even a lady in waiting. The choice is yours. If you're having a hard time deciding, I suggest looking up the show and looking at some of the characters and basic plotlines yourself or even looking up things that are historically accurate.

CodeSelect all

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Title (servant, prince, queen, etc.):[/b]
[b]History (family, money, etc.):[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Hobbies:[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]


Rules

Spoiler

1. SInce a huge part of influence was based on sex, mild sex scenes are allowed but don't let it get in the way of character development
2. Swearing is fine, just don't let it be the main basis of vocab. You're even encourage to use the old ways of swearing and getting creative
3. No god modding, mary sues, killing other characters, etc.
4. Please try to use general grammar, punctuation etc. it can be annoying for other storybookers when your posts are so poorly written it's difficult to understand what's going on.
5. Have fun! No, you do not need to stick to history. And yes, if you want to include magic or the supernatural, that's fine as long as it doesn't get too crazy like vampires or werewolves

Rules and practices in society, "Day to day life" etc.

Spoiler

To give you a brief idea of what life was like, since France was a Catholic country the Royals had to obey the Vatican, or not get caught disobeying at the very least. Women were expected to remain pure until marriage and to not stray, though few practiced this. It was sort of a big elephant in the room so to speak. People knew "maidens" were often not really maidens, and it was talked about behind closed doors but was considered rude to talk about in public. Marriage wasn't usually a union full of love, it was an alliance between two families, usually for money, politics or both. Though sometimes, women got lucky with the right man.

Many Kings had mistresses and bastard children, and many of those Kings also tried to claim those sons in the eyes of the Pope/Vatican so that they might be in line for the throne. There was a lot of bloodbath over this, legitimate sons losing their place in the royal succession, etc.

The war between Scotland and England was based on religion, though Paganism was a belief that many practiced in secret. A Protestant in a Catholic country or vice versa could often be executed or at the very least be socially shunned. And Pagans were executed no matter what.

Orders from the King or Queen were to be obeyed, and if disobeyed you could be executed for treason. Note to whoever plays a King or Queen: don't give orders to someone unless previously agreed upon.

Mary, Queen of Scots

1557

Le Couvent d'Mont Sainte Odile, France

Mary Stuart emerged from the convent to see a small crowd waiting to bid her farewell. The sight caused her pulse to quicken. For the past ten years she had imagined the day when she would return to French court, and until that moment it had seemed something in the distance, a time in the possible future. But as her eyes fell on the sight before her, the carriages, the horses and the men that had been provided to convey herself and her attendants to Paris, she realised that the day had finally arrived.

Finally.

Mary took hold of her nerves and repeated her mother’s words over and over in her mind; there can be no mistakes, Mary. None at all. She knew how imperative it was that she gave a good account of herself at Paris, and not just for her own sake.

You must do your duty for your faith, for your people, for Scotland …

Scotland, Mary thought. Eighteen years hiding away in France while her mother ruled in her stead, she could be forgiven for feeling a little anxious about finally living up to her duties as queen.

The crowd began to part as Mary walked towards the carriage. Heaving a deep breath, she took hold of her nerves once more. Be strong, Mary. Be strong.

A tall nun, pale of skin and round of face stood waiting for her by the carriage door. When Mary stopped before her, she curtseyed low.

Mary smiled and embraced her. “I’m going to miss you, Sister Camille.” The abbess had taken care of Mary since the day she had first arrived in the convent, teaching her everything she needed to know in order to survive French court. It had been the abbess’ charge. Mary would now have to put all that she had learnt to the test.

“I will miss you so much more,” Sister Camille said in her ear. She drew back and took Mary’s hands in her own. “I can see the fear in your eyes, Majesty. You must learn to control it.”

Mary nodded, her stomach tightening.

“This is your destiny, it always has been, to leave here and marry the future King of France.”

Mary hesitated as the magnitude of it all began to sink in.

“It’s time,” one of the French guards declared gruffly, breaking through Mary’s inner turmoil. She recognised him as Ann, duc de Montmorency, Constable of France.

The rider beside him was a man Mary didn’t recognise. “Ready, milady?” he asked, regarding her carefully.

Mary’s heart began to pound so ferociously that she feared the entire congregation would hear.

Sister Camille placed firm hands on her shoulders. “God’s will be done, Majesty.”

Swallowing her fears, Mary nodded. “God’s will be done.”

With the eyes of the crowd upon her, she turned to both riders, giving what she hoped was a brave smile. “Ready.”

Luc

"For the last time, I'm tired of hearing about this game mother. I'm a soldier, not a politician." I glared angrily at my mother, the woman known as Sophia De Pazzi." I know it's important mother. Calais is the key to any invasion from England. It cannot and will not fall. But isn't that why father married you? To handle the intrigue at court? While he was off fighting for the king." My mother smiled gracefully." Yes my son, which is why we must find you a wife worthy to be a baroness. Anyone who wants the throne wants your support. As sad as it is, your armies won't follow Henry into battle unless your going with him. My son, the court is a new battlefield of sorts. Instead of swords and spears, people use secrets and blackmail. But no need to worry, I will be by your side for a bit, than I must return to Calais. Henry will want you by his son's side. And we need to find you a wife. Oh don't blush boy, it needs to be done. When I'm gone, look to Farid for help. The court of the Saracens are just as dangerous as that of the French."

I leaned on the pommel of the saddle as I rode next to my mothers carriage. Besides my eight Knights, I had a company of forty men at arms. And another army of servants. Only at mothers insistence. I leaned down from the saddle to grab a clump of dirt." This is only dirt mother, but it is French. And I will die before I see it become anyone else's." I kicked my stallion into a gallop as I caught up with the vanguard.

Farid al' Muhad glanced casually at me. He was my manservant, but also a great cavalier amongst the Muslims in the east. Winner of forty seven duels, his shamshir was well known. Apparently my father had saved him from dying in the desert on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Farid was on the verge of death when my fathers caravan came upon him. He swore fealty to my father. I was but a babe than, and my father named Farid my protector. He was the father I never had. Reynald de Calais was too busy fighting King Henry's wars to be there for me. Until he died and named me to be the next Baron of Calais. I was the Baron already, but it was simply protocol that the king name me the next Baron.

My Knights, Le Gils de la Guerre, circled me with their snorting war horses. Raised by my side, they were the next captains and commanders in the Kings army. Their fathers were commanders in the army currently, and they'd be seeing their fathers when we reached the court. Phillipe rode next to me. He smirked." Luc, you've been irritated of late. Does your mother have anything to do with it?" I let out a groan as the other young men grinned and laughed amongst themselves. I shook my fist in mock anger." Merde. Mother keeps bringing up this... Game. Plots. La de da de da. It's all annoying really."

Farid cleared his throat." If I may young lord, your mother does speak sense. You are a young man, a proven fighter, and now Baron of one of the most strategically placed cities in France, nearly nine thousand men will pick up their swords for you without a second thought. Many will try to use this to their advantage. It will be useful to say that Baron Luc de Calais is your friend and ally. Very useful. And the women! Allah help us. They will flock to you. A castle by the sea. Forests and lands. They will live in comfort the rest of their lives. But this you must keep in mind, people will try to use you. A man's calling is the sword. A woman's however, she will know who to give your favors too. Your mother was your blessed fathers best weapon. She was his tactician in the courts of France. Many would see your family replaced. Some believe your family has held the barony of Calais for too long. You can't just find a wife to bear you children and make you happy. You must find a woman who will be your best weapon and who will ensure your children hold the seat of Baron for ages to come."

"Well no one is going to lead me into any battle if it's not Luc." One of my Knights swore. The others quickly followed suit. I smiled at them all." My friends, you do me great honor. I can ask for no one better to charge into battle with." A knight smiled." Lord, did you really need to bring all three of your Falcons? Trying to impress someone special?" I smirked." I know next to nothing about the court life, besides what my mother tells me. But I know that hunting is good around the palace." They all laughed amongst themselves as we paused for a rest before approaching the castle. Servants changed into less dirty clothing, and my mother put on all her finery. I approached her as a servant desperately tried attach a cape to my armor.

"Trying to seduce someone important?" I asked. She simply smiled at me." We will be seeing my cousin Catherine, so remember she is family, but also the queen. And if my little birds are correct, Queen Mary is also at the estate. Or soon to be. I'm unsure." My eyes bulged a little." The Scot? Are they already getting married?" She shook her head." Not yet, but it will be soon I'm going to guess if she is there. Or maybe it's just for her own protection. Farid will keep you safe, as well as your Knights. I can only stay long enough to see the king give you official rule over Calais, and to see Catherine, but than I must hasten back to Calais. I can care for it just as well as any man, while you're here. Your Knights will be here, as well as Farid. So remember your manners."

I took my mothers hand and kissed her gently on the cheek." Mother, let us not speak of you leaving so soon. We have yet to reach the palace and all that. Besides, the army isn't going anywhere so your plans of world domination can wait." She tweaked my nose lovingly." Oh my son. Your father would have been so proud. I should hope that you remember that His majesty was named your god father when you were born. Ah, Reynald and Henry were such good friends. So remember who you are. The son of the stallion." I glanced at my cloak, which bore the sigil of my fathers house. A golden horse above a green field.

I got back into my horse and muttered to myself." Let's see what awaits us."

The taste of spring was in the air, although the bareness of the ground and the promise of rain that hung in the atmosphere did not sit well in Dacio’s stomach. His old scars ached, and rather than having his spirits lifted by the warmer weather he felt threatened by it. France, to him at least, seemed heavy and ill, although he knew it was an impression deeply coloured by his already firm opinion regarding the royal court. Needless to say, he was not looking forward to his arrival in Paris.
He was travelling with a small party of attendants and soldiers, numbering no more than twenty men. As the son of a duke, the relative lack of protection might have seemed an oddity were it not for one word: desheredado. Dacio spat to the side as the thought crossed his mind, although the action was rather subconscious. He and his company had managed to cross the entirety of the countryside since departing from Aragon several days before, and since then they had encountered no overt threats. The entire journey had consisted of the dull thudding of mud churned beneath their horses’ feet, the smell of leather and sweat, and insurmountable boredom. It did not help that his father’s assignment seemed entirely futile to him, and he wished he were back in Italy.

Ina rode beside him, carefully balanced on a sidesaddle and quietly observing the lush fields of the central French countryside around them. Used to the bare sun beating down upon her, she did not seem troubled in the slightest by being exposed to the weather. She had always been that way, and Dacio wondered how she would adjust to life at court. He knew that personally the transition would be a slight challenge.
“What is your estimate as to our arrival in Orleans?” Dacio called out in Castilian to his sergeant.

“We should arrive before the hour is passed.” came the reply. If they maintained their current pace they would reach the Louvre Palace by the next day, which had been their original intention.

As they made their way along the edge of a field that lay dark and freshly ploughed, Dacio found his attention pulled away from the rode ahead. Turning his gaze, he saw a farmer standing with his arms draping at his sides and glaring at him. Unimpressed, Dacio stared evenly back.

In the next instant he saw the peasant’s hand move, and a clump of mud slapped him across the side of his face. Reaching his hand up to brush it away, Dacio found it was covered with manure and blood.

There was brief chaos as the soldiers ahead of him wheeled their horses around and charged the farmer, who was screaming insults at Dacio in coarse French. There were only a few seconds before the man was thrown to the ground and nearly trampled by the horses.

“Dirty Spaniard… shit-licking dog… whore-monger…” he caught brief snatches of the curses before one of the soldiers dismounted and buried the peasant’s face in the mud. A short yet brutal beating followed, then they pulled the man to his knees and placed the bared edge of a short-sword against his throat.

“Wait,” Dacio commanded. He too dismounted and approached the farmer where he knelt in his own field. “First tell me how you came to have such a taste for death,” he said, referring to the man’s suicidal actions.

“You cannot kill me,” the man snarled instead, “I am a subject of his majesty King of France. Spill French blood and you’ll regret it.” he spat out a crushed tooth at Dacio’s feet.

“Señor, shall I dispatch him?” the soldier holding the man by the neck asked.
“I have half a mind to do it myself,” Dacio replied with a faint smile. He moved to draw his sword, but whether he had been waiting for an objection or simply sensed the truth behind the farmer’s words, he heard Ina gasp sharply and abruptly stopped. “Although…” he mused, “It might be much more fitting for us to deliver this loyal subject to his ‘majesty King of France’ himself.” He said with no small amount of contempt. The soldiers around him grinned as they understood the implication. “Tie him behind one of the horses,” he ordered before swiftly remounting, “We have already wasted enough time as-is. It would be imprudent to arrive at the same time as her majesty of Scotland.”

Without further thought the soldiers did as they had been told, and the party of horsemen moved out. A few hours later, however, as if fate had forgotten that the peasant was slated to die before they were halfway to Paris, he found that his ropes had been cut and he had been left lying barely conscious in the dust as the party from Spain continued on without pause. He would never know that it had been the lord he had scorned who had set him free. But Ina knew, and her eyes smiled with appreciation of Dacio’s mercy, although he could not see it.

Spring had officially taken hold of the French countryside. It was midday, but the fields were mostly empty.The air was warm, and the cloudy sky tempted the fields with water. The sky was not grey and gloomy, but almost white and hopeful with the faintest amount of light streaming through its cracks. Scents of grass, and newly bloomed flowers filled the air along with the faint odorous smell of animals. A beautiful spring day in the countryside of France.

Arielle Dumont led Fabian, her horse and lifelong friend, across the grounds towards the stables after a midday ride. Her father passed on this horse to her as a gift at the age of six years old, and ever since then they were strongly bonded. Her father would joke at times, and say that the two shared a soul. Adam, the stablehand, walked towards her.

“Welcome back Lady Arielle. You returned early today?” He asked curiously taking the reins from Arielle’s hands.

“Yes I had too. My mother told me this morning that she had something important to tell me this afternoon. I was strictly asked to return by this time.” Arielle slightly laughed as she pulled off her gloves. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go meet her. Take good care of him you hear?”

“Yes milady.” He smiled, and began his work. Arielle quickly ran from the stables up towards her home, and entered the back of the house through the kitchen.

“Hiding from your mother milady?” Asked Margaret, the 50 year old servant woman. She has worked in Arielle’s home for as long as she can remember. The two have become close for a housemaid and lord's daughter.

“Of course not. I’m simply trying to...Clean up before she sees me.” Arielle says timidly looking down at her dirty riding clohtes.

“Alright. Now be quiet about it. Your mother wants her tea, and you can sneak past her when I deliver it..” She says grabbing the copper tray from the table.

“Thank you Margaret.” Arielle says. The two of them make their way from the kitchen area towards the grand staircase. Margaret enters the sitting room, but before Arielle can even get her foot on the first step her mother calls out.

“Arielle. Please come here. Now.” Arielle sighs, and walks slowly into the sitting room. “Margaret pour another cup for my...filthy daughter. Also, do make yourself useful, and lay down a sheet so Arielle doesn't stain the furniture.” Her tone is cold.

“Yes milady.” Margaret tops off the second tea cup, and rushes off. She returns shortly after a few moments and places the sheet on the chair across from where Arielle’s mother sits.

“Leave us.” Margaret nods, and rushes off once more. Arielle wished she could have stayed. Ever since her father died Margaret was the only one able to calm her down around her mother. “Explain.” Her mother commanded.
“Well, I was out riding and I lost track of time. I would have come straight to you, but I wanted to wash up a bit first and-”

“I don't need excuses Arielle. Anyways, we have received word that as of now the young Queen of Scotland is making her way to French Court.”

“Really? Already? Does this mean they are getting married now?” Arielle asked curiously. Arielle grew up with knowledge that one day the Scottish queen, and the French crowned prince would one day marry. However she never expected it to be this soon.

“Plans are in preparation for the marriage and the alliance, but no one knows for sure when that will actually be. It could be months, or even years away.”

“So what does that have to do with us mother?”

“Well, it seems that in a few days time a celebration will be held for the Queen's arrival. All nobles are called to attend.”

“How exciting.” Arielle slightly smiled hiding her disappointment. She was excited to finally see the rumored beautiful young scottish queen, but she couldn't help but feel anxious returning to court after everything that has happened in the past two years. “I shall go prep for our leave.” Arielle stood, but once again her mother stopped her.

“Not so fast. There are some other things you must know. I will not be attending this with you, because I am to stay here and take charge of the land while you are gone. The king asks that a few nobles stay at court for however long he needs. Your name was on that request.”

“How long will I be there?” Arielle slowly sits back down.

“That’s not my knowledge to know. One of the servants has already begun packing your things, and Margaret will attend court with you as a familiar face. I will hear no complaining out of you, and if I hear any complaints from court, you will lose your ownership of this land until I see fit. So I suggest you stay out of trouble while you are there. Now, go wash up and prepare to leave later this evening. Do you understand?”

“Yes mother.” Arielle quickly rushes upstairs to the washroom where a bath has been prepared for her. She places on a gown that Margaret has prepared for their journey.

“It's so tight.” She says trying to pull at the sides. Margaret slaps her hand away.

“That’s the point milady. Your mother made it very clear to me that I am to make sure you catch a suitor's eye.”

“Of course she did. Why doesn’t she understand that I will marry when I wish to? It's not like I need to marry for support or status. I have that on my own. Besides I don't need some man coming into my life, and telling me he’ll take care of everything.”

“She’s only looking out for you milady. You eventually will need to produce an heir for your family's fortune.”

“I know it's just... The stupid little girl inside of me wishes for love. Something real.”

“That’s not how it works in this world milady. Only if you're lucky. Now, we must be leaving soon.” After prepping Arielle’s appearance the two of them made their way down the stairs to the main doorway. As usual Arielle’s mother wasn’t there to say goodbye.

Arielle shivered when she stepped out into the cold night air. The carriage was packed, and the coach hand was ready. Fabian, and her father's old horse were strapped to the front. Arielle’s heart twisted at the sight of the old thing. Just like her and Fabian, her father had a real bond with his horse. Arielle stepped into the carriage along with Margaret, and the coach hand closed the door. She watched the house she loves disappear as they made their way further and further down the dirt pathway. French Court was half a day's trip from her home, and that meant that she had that long to come up with a plan. A plan of how to survive her new life at French court. She closed her eyes as her father's words echoed in her head.

Stay brave my child. No matter the obstacle. Stay brave.

Lady Greer

That morning I awoke to my maids stoking the fire and laying out my dress, makeup and hairpins. My light red hair was tangled and splayed across my pillow and I closed my eyes before snuggling back into the feather stuffed mattress and duvet. This was the epitome of luxury. The golden comforter was made with dyes imported from India along with the luxurious golden canopy. Both were made of heavy, silky fabric. The pillows were just as plush, making me want to stay in bed all day.

"Lady Greer," one of the maids shook me gently. "Lady Greer, tis eight o clock." She gestured to the large clock on the mantel. Clocks were a luxury, most rose and slept based on sun patterns.

"Noooooo." I moaned, rolling over and burying my head under the covers.

"Lady Greer," the maid said, adjusting a pin in her hair, "You simply must get up. Your Queen is coming today and your absence will be most notable if you are not present to greet her. I apologize if this is over the line but this a job you have been groomed for your entire life."

"Mary is coming today?" I sat straight up. How could I have forgotten?

"Yes, milady."

"As in, Mary, Queen of Scots?" I asked. The maid smiled to herself.

"Yes, milady." She replied.

I flew out of bed and drew my nightgown over my head, casting it on the floor. The maid who woke me hurried to pick it up and put it in her woven laundry basket.

"I'm sorry!" I said, holding out my arms. I was used to being naked in front of my maids. The maid handed me a dressing gown as the other sat me down. The maid who woke me began twisting my hair half back and using a curling iron from the fireplace to give my waves a little more curl. The other maid began to apply powders and paints to my face, giving it more definition.

I stood up after they were finished and they carefully removed my dressing gown, taking caution to not smudge my makeup or my hair. They then put me in my undergarments and fastened a corset around me. I braced my hands on the bedframe as the maid yanked my laces in bit by bit.

"Milady," the maid said, grunting at the next tug, "How long has it been since you've seen Her Majesty the Queen?"

"Years," I replied, wincing as she laced downwards, now tightening in my stomach. "Not since we were playing children. I was maybe eight or nine years of age when someone attempted to arch an arrow through her skull." I shuddered at the memory. "Though I'd rather not talk about it."

"Of course, Milady. You are going to look so beautiful, just as you always do."

"Thank you..."

"Genevieve." she supplied.

"Thank you, Genevieve," I said, smiling at her.

"And I'm Amelie," the other said, the maid who had woken me up.

"I'm so sorry I haven't bothered to learn your names until now. Pardon my rudeness." I felt bad for ignoring them.

"Not rude, milday, we're rather used to it," said Amelie as helped me into the many layers of my gown. It was one of my nicer day dresses, a silk dark hunter green dress with sleeves that ended at my forearms. The skirt was long and surprisingly thin for a nicer dress and flattered my figure much better. There was an elegant sash that tied behind my back in a bow that was beaded and made my waist look even smaller. The neckline was modest but almost questionable and I felt somewhat uncomfortable. No doubt my father had this dress tailored to find me a fiance.

"Is there anything else you need, Milady?" Genevieve said, placing my meal tray on a small table. Most took breakfast in their rooms.

"No thank you, I will eat and then find something to do with myself until my Queen arrives, the excitement is almost tangible." They curtsied and left the room. I sat down and had a croissant and some pourridge with fruit in it, my foot tapping. I glanced at the clock, it was already 10. It took an average of 1-2 hours to get me ready in the morning depending on how difficult it was to get me up. And I'd dawdled while eating.

I left the tray on the table and left my chambers, walking down the corridor, my fingers running over the smooth silky fabric of my dress. This was luxury for me. My parents were wealthy but nice clothes were reserved for outings and for company. It was all about appearance, hollow wealth is what they called it.

"Lady Lola," I greeted, seeing a familiar face framed by long, beautiful curly hair.

"Lady Greer," she replied, as we curtsied. We'd both arrived a few weeks prior and had catched up but still weren't as close as we once were. We stood there somewhat awkwardly.

"I better go," I said, breaking the silence.

"Miladies!" a servant ran down the corridor. We both turned.

"A servant has been dispatched. Her Majesty the Queen will be arriving by carriage in less than a quarter of an hour."

Lola and I looked at each other, Mary was coming.

Luc de Calais

Henry had a small council meeting going on when my mother and I walked in. Only he and Catherine seems genuinely happy to see us arrive. My mother curtsied as I bowed." My lord King." I murmured reverently." I heard the words come from his other nobles." Bootlicker." "Port boy and his whore mother." Jealousy I was sure. I raised my head and watched my mother embrace her cousin, than rolled my eyes as they began to converse in Italian. Henry motioned to his council." We will postpone our meeting. I must speak with my godson." He motioned me to follow him into an adjacent room. He sat down and poured himself and I a cup of wine. He grinned at me." So how is my favorite godson?"

I smiled and bowed my head as he offered me my cup of wine."Very good. Long travel, but it's the soldiers way, so I suppose comfortable in the same way." He laughed." Ah. Campaigning with your father were some of the best years of my life. I'd like to say the soldiers way was the best way. But when I think of my feather beds and the good food, I don't miss it at all. And the women, merde. In vast quantaties." He smiled and took another sip." Francis will never understand the ways of war. His mother raised him in a completely different way." He gestured at my ring." He'll need good men like you by his side if he wishes to remain king. He can't be weak, and militarily he'll need you. You're his age, and from what I hear, he respects you immensely." I bowed." His majesty is too kind."

Henry scoffed." Stop the Boeing and scraping boy. One thing I loved about your dear father was he never have a horses arse if I was king. Half the stuff he would say I could have him killed for. But sometimes hard truths are neccesary to be a good ruler." He refilled his cup of wine." Now tell me. How fares Calais. I'll let the council know you're the new Baron. It was already going to happen. Act like it. Now where was I? Ah yes, Calais. How fare we?"

I placed a gloved hand on the map." Grain so tirades are at full capacity. My father had the quarantine hospitals built before he died, so if disease hits us, we can react quickly. Taxes are all up to date. The navy stands at about 200 ships. Army wise? 8 regiments strong, and if we call a mass mustering, I can get about another 800 men armed and ready for combat within 12 hours." Henry smiled. Your father trained you for this position well. And no doubt your Saracen man servant. He looks like a handy man to have around."

I nodded and took a sip of wine. He grimaced as a servant rushed in breathless. He turned angrily to him." Can't you see I'm speaking to the one man who can keep us from getting English swords in our throats??" He asked angrily. The man froze up and paled." A thousand apologies your majesty, but she's here." Henry's shoulders seemed to slump. I cocked my head." Mary?" He nodded." It's not that I don't like the girl. It's just a reminder that I'm getting old." He glanced at me. I want to play a game. Put on your helmet. You'll be my mystery guest. I don't care if your dirty. Look like a soldier proudly bearing the Crest of Calais. I could use a giggle as the other nobles try to guess who you are. I want you by me.

I smirked and did as he asked." And it'll give you a chance to get a look at the women without getting in trouble." He added with a wink as I followed him from the room. His wardrobe was brought as i watched interested as they placed all the royal regalia as my mother and the Queen entered. My mother reached to take off my helmet but Henry stopped her." I need a mystery guest tonight. I'll announce Homs as Baron De Calais tonight at the welcome feast for Mary." Catherine seems to grimace and stiffen at the name. I winked at my mother from beneath my armor. She rolled her eyes as we followed Henry outside.

People were gathering by the dozens. Henry was right. Al'mor immedialty, people were asking who I was. Henry grinned when he heard them also." Let the intrigue and scandals begin." He said under his breath to me. My hand clenched my sword a little harder as I assumed the posture of a royal bodyguard." Have fun Luc, beiges the work starts." He added as a coach pulled up, escorted by French guardsman. The herald opened his mouth to speak as the coach door opened.

Lady Arielle Dumont

Arielle could hardly catch her breath before servants rushed her from her carriage when they finally arrived at court that morning. The party for Queen Mary was tonight, but already everyone had begun to hold their breath. Arielle’s mother did not lie about planning her wardrobe for her time at court. As her servants laid out the chosen gowns Arielle sighed. They were all beautiful, but there appeared to be no riding outfits.

“Of course. God forbid I would want to actually enjoy my time here.” Arielle sits down on her bed.

“She is simply looking out for you Milady.” Margaret says quietly. “But…What she doesn’t know won't hurt her.” She smiles and pulls a small suitcase into the room and places it next to the others.

“Is that?” Arielle asks excitedly.

“Yes milady.” Margaret smiles as Arielle rushes into a hug. Margaret coughs, and Arielle awkwardly pulls away.

“My apologies. That was uncalled for.” Margaret smiles and grabs Arielles face with her old gentle hands. Margaret was one of the last things she had of her father. Margaret had watched him since he was boy, just like she had watched Arielle.

“Don’t apologize milady. You did nothing wrong…Now. We have a party to get you ready for. First impressions are everything.”

“Won’t everyone be looking at the beautiful young queen?” Arielle asks jokingly. All the rumors had made it sound like Mary’s beauty could be compared with wildflowers. Innocent, and pure. Arielle believed all the rumors, and like everyone else she was excited to finally see the proof.

“Yes they will, but when they do eventually look at you I want them to see the powerful, beautiful, young lady that you are.”

“Thank you Margaret.” Arielle smiles. Then, Margaret begins her work on preparing Arielle for the night ahead. She pulls a flowy crème colored dress from the pile, and holds it up. Arielle nods, and the servants begin to dress her. The waist is not as tight as most, but it still pulls at her curves above her waist. Beneath the golden ribbon at the waist, the gown flows out down to her feet in ripples of fabric. The intricate designs on the dress create a bold, but innocent look. After she is fully dressed they begin her hair and makeup. Her hair is let down in loose curls, and the top is pulled back into place with a gorgeous jeweled hairpin. Her makeup is done natural and light to enhance the youthful glow of her skin tone.

After the servants finish their job, Arielle stares in the mirror for a moment. On the outside Arielle enjoyed the lush parties, but deep down she couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t really belong. There was always that fear in the back of her mind that she would screw up, and disappoint her mother. Ever since she was a child she had felt that way. Margaret slowly walks over to her, and grabs her shaking hand.

“You will be fine milady. I guarantee it.” She gently smiles. “Besides like you said, everyone will be watching the queen. Take some of that pressure off yourself.” They both laugh.

“Thank you.” Arielle quietly says. Margaret smiles and nods, and gestures towards the door.

“The party awaits milady.” Arielle takes a deep breath, and opens the door. The hallways are full of people being ushered towards the great hall. It seems like every woman has a man to escort them. Among them Arielle feels like a tiny pebble on a mountainside, but she pushes those feelings aside and lifts her chin.

I will be brave tonight. Tonight I will be the mountain.

The great hall is even more magnificent than she remembers. When she was a child everything was so large, and bright. It wasn’t until now that she noticed everything behind that glow. She smiles as she thinks of how she used to hide behind her father at these parties. Oh how she ached to speak with him. To tell him of its beauty, but she had a feeling he already knew.

After a few moments everyone had settled into their routines. Although everyone was on edge for the queen's arrival it still was a party, and everyone had an image to keep up. Gossip was spread, politics were discussed, forced compliments were said. It never seems to end. Just as Arielle had made it through her third group people had already started grouping around the doorway.

She’s here

Echos rustled through the great hall as the carriage pulled up. Arielle pushed to get a good look, but to her dismay too many people stood between her and the young queen. She made one final push, and finally found a spot where she could see. Once the carriage door had opened the room became silent. The young queen walked slowly slightly bowing to everyone she passed. Everyone could not help but gawk. She was truly beautiful. She greets the King and Queen, and smiles brightly.

She has been training for this moment her entire life.

After greeting the hosts, the king raises his hand to announce her. The crowds cheer, and just like that the party goes back into its full swing. Henry and Catherine take their places at the throne, and for a moment everyone is completely happy. Arielle walks behind a few couples towards the King and Queen. Each bow at their feet, and say hello. When Arielle finally makes it to the stairs she bows respectfully.

“Lady Arielle Dumont. It's been so long.” King Henry looks at Arielle up and down. “What a beautiful young lady you have grown to be. Your father would be pleased even though you lack to find a suitor.”

“Thank you your majesty. I appreciate the invite to come and stay at your home for these many months. I hope I can be of service to you and to France.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that.” He smiles. Next to the King a guard slightly catches Arielle’s eye. Unlike most guards he has a helmet covering his face. Henry notices Arielle's sudden intrigue, and laughs. “Enjoy the rest of your night Lady Arielle.”

“Thank you your majesty…” Arielle steps down, and walks away. Behind her she hears the king whisper.

“Keep an eye on this one. She is unpredictable.” He laughs. She slightly frowns, but she does not let her head fall.

Be brave...I'll prove my worth to them all. If its the last damn thing I do.

Bash

Everybody was excited over the arrival of Queen Mary, everyone that is, except for me.

"What if she doesn't like me?" Francis asked as we sat in his chambers, my leather boot clad feet propped up on the parlor table.

"What do you mean? You're engaged, not like she can do anything about it."

Francis pushed his blonde curls out of his eyes. "What if she absolutely despises me? I know technically there's not but you and I both know Father isn't going to push for a marriage unless he needs something to distract the people or Mary's inheritance for the English crown is legitimized."

I examined my dirty, jagged fingernails and winced, "Has it ever occurred to you that you're a prince and could easily have any woman in this palace bedded within 5 minutes? She's just a woman. Usually they're for one thing only but in this case it's two. She's here to warm your chambers and to represent the royal family."

"Hold your tongue," Francis said, "What if I actually want to be happy in this marriage?"

I scoffed, "Marriage won't make you happy. Freedom will, little brother. You'll be much better off once you learn that. Henry did."

"I wish you wouldn't call him Henry," Francis replied, "He's your father too."

"And? He's never acted like one nor has he claimed me as his child. Why is that? Because you, baby brother, are going to be King." I saw the hurt expression on his face and I could tell he was worried I resented him for his status. "No no," I quickly added, "I don't mind. Honestly, if I were King I'd have so much responsibility. I'm happy being a huntsman, exploring the woods and bedding any woman I please."

Just then the door opened and Francis shot straight up from his chair. A servant entered.

"Your Majesty," he said bowing to Francis, "My Lord," he nodded to me, "A messenger has come and Mary, Queen of Scots is due to arrive within the hour. Do you need me to send some maids to help you prepare?"

Francis shook his head, "No, I'll need a moment alone. Thank you," the Servant bowed once more before leaving the room, shutting the heavy wooden door firmly behind him.

"Well, little brother," I said, standing up, "I'm going to the woods to see if I can't find a nice rabbit for the feast tonight." I had no wish to see everybody fawn over a woman who would be naught but a puppet, most likely controlled by Henry, Catherine or powerful Lords. Even more likely a combination of the 3.

"Are you sure you can't stay?" Francis asked me, wringing his hands.

"I'm positive. Godspeed." With that, I left Francis' private chambers and nodded at the guards outside his door. My footsteps echoed on the stone floors of the corridors as I made my way to the stables, breathing in the Fresh scent of pine and leaves that were just beginning to fall in the still warm August air.

"My Lord," the stable hand gave me the reigns to my horse.

"Jacque," I nodded back, mounting him and digging my heels into his flanks. We started off at a trot, going into the woods. Nobody dared entire them but me and few of the King's men but I knew that forest better than anybody. There were creatures and Pagans and god knows what else but I could take care of myself.

I rode on, enjoying the peaceful air as the day slowly began to turn to dusk and I thought Mary surely should have arrived by now. I was just about to turn back to the palace when something caught my eye, a warm light.

I dismounted my horse, walking carefully towards the source for a few hundred yards, the soft leather of my boots almost silent on my path. I could hear mutterings, chantings, phrases being repeated over and over again as the firelight flickered. And then I heard screams.

"No, don't do this, please!" the man yelled. I parted the underbrush, kneeling on the ground and I saw a crowd of about 20 men or women and a man being burned. They were dressed in strange garments, their faces painted. Each wore a talisman around his or her neck and they were saying things in a language I only sort of understood. The Pagan language.

"They're making a sacrifice." I breathed.

Queen Catherine de Medici

As soon as Mary was introduced, and the formalities were completed, the party started, and Catherine left. She didn't see anything to celebrate about. Scotland was no prize to France, and in fact it was the exact opposite way around. Mary, Queen of Scots was merely saving herself, and promoting her failing country. The alliance was needed yes, it would give France more land, strength, but Scotland wasn't the only place France could attain such privileges. Nevertheless, Catherine knew it was the easiest alliance for France, and knew it had to happen. However, that didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

"Catherine!" The booming, and annoying voice that had chanted her name, not once, not twice, but three times before, called yet again and made Catherine's face wince inevitably.

"What is it, Henry? Your food doesn't sit well with you?" She snapped back, pausing and turning in the long hall, to glare at him.

"Why don't you stay and get more acquainted with the Queen of Scots?" He asked coldly.

"I'd rather not, you see, the food didn't sit well with me." She replied with a smirk and a twinkle of mirth in her eyes.

"This is no time to joke. And this is in no way how we treat our guests, your future daughter-in-law!" Henry shouted by the end of his sentence. He slowly inched closer and closer to her as he was talking as well, until he closed the gap between them and they were standing face to face.

"I will not sit there and make a mockery of our Kingdom, we know we can do better than Scotland!" Catherine spat back, softer, not wanting to draw attention. When she had left she made sure to chat with a few nobles first, and then excuse herself like she was going to the powder room. She had no intention of making it seem like the King and Queen of France were not in agreement. Especially not with so many, eager throne-stealing nobles ready to snatch her crown- well, Henry's really. "And lower your tone, we don't want to disturb the precious Queen of Scots now do we?" Catherine finished with a snarl. Henry's eyes narrowed. Disgust filled Catherine's stomach, how could she ever love him? How did she ever come to love him in a distant way? No, she could never admit to ever really loving him, it was impossible.

"Catherine, you and I are not in agreement, and you know it. I will not hide it."

"Fine, have it your way then, I will return to my chambers and you can continue welcoming the Queen of Scots grandly. It will make our disagreement very known." And with that Catherine picked up her heavy garment and walked away quickly, with her head in the air.