Arrival
Chapter
One
“The porridge was
poisoned,” screamed Sister Anne in an alarmed tone. A second after that sip of
porridge, Sister Charlotte was on the cold stone floor with porridge and saliva
that dripped from her mouth. “Get Mary out of this barbaric situation. Notify
his majesty of this outlandish attack!” Sister Anne screeched. I was shaken and
alarmed. This was an attempt on my life, by the English!
I, Mary Stuart, was
sent to a convent in France for protection from the English. They had wanted my
crown since the day I was born. I would do everything in my power to prevent
that from happening. France had been my home since the age of six, but was I
protected?
I lived in the convent
for many years. However, I was now of
age to marry. My future husband was the Dauphin of France, Francis. We had been
engaged since the age of six. My heart did not lie with his. This was the case
since I hadn’t seen Francis for nine years. I remembered Francis as a young boy
with dainty, childish legs. That may have been because Francis was a weak,
sickly child. The doctors could never diagnosis the illness, though there were
several theories. Some doctors were even so bold as to come out with outlandish
accusations that evil must be afoot.
The carriage ride was
most uncomfortable. I cannot remember the last time I rode in one. In the
carriage, my mind was cluttered by the thoughts of elation that I would soon be
at French Court. I was beyond jittery with the the thought of seeing Francis
again. I truly hoped we could unite in more than just a political marriage. I
would also be seeing my four ladies in waiting, Katherine, Rose, Elizabeth, and
Jane. My ladies were the only true friends I had back in Scotland. They came to
French Court with me when I lived there for hardly a year.
I stepped out of the
carriage onto French Court soil. The court was gorgeous, from the perfectly
groomed shrubs to the buttery smell of pastries. I wondered, how could this
seemingly innocent place be scandalous? I saw a lengthy line of nobles
waiting to greet me. I could read a mixture of emotions on the faces of the
nobles. Some looked as though they considered me an outsider and wanted me out
of their country. One man gazed at me in a cruel, judgemental way. Beneath his
this red lip was a snaggle tooth, black, rotten, and revolting. He should have
known that if I were the Queen of France, he would be granted a serious
punishment.
The trumpets sounded,
and then I saw Francis. He stared bashfully at the ground. His eyes were
fixated on a pebble before him. He did not look eager to see me or even be here
at this very moment. I questioned whether he would be the husband I had hoped
for. I slowly walked down the cobblestone walkway to greet Catherine De Medici,
King Henry, and Francis. I walked in a fragile, dainty, royal way.
I smiled at Francis in
a timid way. Then I began to speak. “I can’t believe it's you. You have changed
beyond so much. But, yet, you seem like the old Francis!” I felt as though I
had said the stupidest thing in the whole world. I was acting like the complete
imbecile that some perceive me to be. Francis did not smile at me. That made me
feel very uncomfortable. In our years apart, Francis had become a young man;
not the boy I remembered him as. Francis had dirty blond hair that complimented
his turquoise blue eyes. But not very muscular like you may have expected the
Dauphine to be. If anything, Francis was quiet scrawny.
“Thank you very much
for the compliments, and you look quite well, too,” Francis spoke in a puzzling
tone. Francis looked at my crimson hair with a smile on his face.
“May I ask what you
find so hysterical?” I asked in a playful way.
“I am astonished at how
much you have changed. But, you still have the fiery hair, and strong opinions.
It is quite nice to rekindle our relationship.” Francis spoke in a flirtatious
way.
I could never tell if Francis was sincere by his
tone. I had learned this lesson many years before.
I walked into the
castle with Francis; he offered to show me around. We both felt quite awkward.
That may have been since we were engaged since the age of six, and yet, like
most royals we did not know very much about each other. Sometimes I think that
may be for the better. Francis’s tour of the castle was quite brief. I didn’t
think that was a bad thing since I have lived there before. The granite
staircase caused flashes of memories from the castle...the way the light
bounced of the staircase in a blinding way.
I asked Francis how his
studies were going, he gave a moderate response. “Mathematics is going quite
well. Social economics is not my forte, however, it is not completely wretched,
either!” exclaimed Francis. I laughed when he spoke the word wretched; I
don’t have any idea why. Francis looked at me in a serious type of way, then
all of the sudden started laughing hysterically, too. At that moment, I had a
spark of hope that Francis and I truly had a connection that would grow into
something more than just political marriage.
As the tour progressed,
I finally had a bolt of courage to ask Francis if he had a general sense of
when he and I would marry.
“My father wants the wedding to happen very
quickly, since, as you well know, the Tudor Queen is very ill, and on the cusp
of dying. You, Mary Stuart, are the rightful heir to the English throne. A
direct descendant of Henry VIII, not an illegitimate child of Henry’s that God
does not even recognize,” answered Francis in a fearless way. I hoped I could
be as fearless as Francis. I knew I had to get courage to take my crown. Most
of all, I mustn’t let the bastard Elizabeth get the crown, or hell would come
down.
My tour came to an end.
I thanked Francis. At the moment, I walked away, and I felt my heart leap right
out of my chest, urging myself to stay near Francis.
I quickly walked back
to my chamber to collect my thoughts and get ready for the feast to celebrate
my arrival. I was extremely anxious. What would the King and Queen say about
me? I was told that at the feast, King
Henry would announce the date of our wedding. That last part was gossip that I
had heard from the nobles. However, I thought this would be the only time I
would choose to believe nobles’ gossip!
The Page announced my
four ladies in waiting. I felt jittery...excited..astounded… anxious; there
were a dozen other feelings I could use to explain that moment. Jane, Elizabeth, Rose and Katherine looked as
though they had just seen the most amusing
thing ever but would not let out a laugh. The bouncy way that Elizabeth
walked was always a great clue she had something astounding to tell me. As soon
as the door closed, Jane asked me if I had heard about the gossip. I was as
excited as she, but I would not feed into this excitement because I needed to
get ready for the feast.
My ladies helped me
into my silk and spun gold dress. The dress was beyond marvelous. I had a deep
desire for extravagant, expensive things. Jane helped me into my corset. I let
out a sharp and painful scream. The scream was as though I was being grabbed
with tremendous force. “I am most apologetic your Majesty.” I don’t know why
Jane called me your Majesty. Perhaps out of fear, something else? My ladies and
I had been so close, but I wondered if the distance had torn us apart?
My whole outfit was put
together. “You look radiant! It must have been some time since you have worn
clothes fit for royalty,” spoke Elizabeth in an astonished tone.
“Yes, I have forgotten
what a corset feels like. The tightness feels unbearable,” I screeched, gasping
for air.
“In some time you will
get adjusted to the burdens of the clothes,” said Rose.
The feast was much
smaller than I had expected. The only people that I happened to see where the
royals. I expected there to be nobles, but apparently not.
We ate in complete
silence for some time. All I could hear was the cutting of knives and the
dainty chewing that only royals seemed to possess. The swan was simply
scrumptious, perfectly roasted and seasoned. I was waiting to see what the
desserts were; I knew France was notorious for their delicious desserts.
“Your Majesty, I hope
your stay here at French court had exceeded your expectations,” spoke the King
in an arrogant tone.
“Yes, my stay has
exceeded my expectations! Everyone is very kind and gracious,” I said.
As I finished my meal
the King spoke, “You shall marry my son in one day.” I was shocked by his
comment. He had made me nervous and anxious. How could all the planning be
done? Francis and I looked at each
other. We were both in shock, not knowing how to react or what to say.
After the feast, I
walked to Francis’ chamber. I wanted to talk to him about how quickly we were
going to marry. I knocked three times on the door. I waited for the door to
open. “Mary, what are you doing here?” asked Francis in a puzzled tone.
“I wanted to have a
conversation about how abruptly we are to marry,” I said.
“I know, the notice was
quite short, but we have been engaged since we were six. For myself, the notice
wasn’t so shocking. I am truly sorry if it was shocking for you,” Francis
answered. Francis’s bluntness annoyed me a little. Had Francis really changed
this much since the last time I saw him? I wondered if Francis was ready for
marriage. Maybe Francis and I would have nothing more than a political
marriage?
-Maeve Segrue
