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