I stared out on the bedroom balcony in silence. Life? Death? For once, they felt like the same thing.

Days after our discussion on Conde and Elizabeth, we received news confirming their engagement. There would be a King of England. And if it was up to the majority of Protestants and my cousin, France would get a new king.

Conde.

Even now, his name tasted bitter in my mouth. Putrid. It was sickening to just entertain the memory of his letter.

He claimed he couldn't stay in court because he loved me; yet, he thinks marrying England and taking France is the solution? What delusion is he entertaining? This isn't a war on Francis or what he thought our lives could be. This is a war on me, my countries, my home, my family.

If he does take France, which he must do over Francis and I's dead bodies, the world will be a mighty stranger. What would France be without the Valois line? What civil war would break out in Scotland after word of the execution of their Queen?

As disturbing as the thoughts were, I had to admit I was curious.

Curious to a fault, perhaps, but still curious enough to plot and plan creative strategies to avoid the crisis at hand. It was safe to say I was failing successfully.

"Argh!"

Francis' fist slammed against his desk for the hundredth time that day.

"What is it?" My voice, which was already filled to the brim with stress and concern, cracked as I attempted to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

My eyes scanned the document on Francis' desk with the new details on Conde, but there was nothing new, nothing useful that we didn't already know. I knew that this, the knowledge of our pending, helpless doom, was what haunted Francis' eyes now.

We were mice trapped in a corner, and we had nowhere to go, nothing to do. Even if we didn't have troops stationed in Scotland, we wouldn't have the resources necessary to thwart an attack backed by England.

"Our spies spotted English troops in Amiens," Francis said with gritted teeth as he shoved the papers away from him.

My eyes dilated and widened in horror. "But that's a four day ride from here! And, Francis, Conde could be even closer to the palace than that!"

"I'm aware." He dragged his palm along his forehead, making an expression that could only be understood by those who personally knew the burden of being a monarch. "That's why I've scheduled an emergency family meeting this afternoon."

"You did what?!" I nearly shouted.

Francis sighed in exasperation.

"You know as well as I that it isn't safe for the royal family to remain in the palace when there is a known invasion in motion. Four days, Mary—it's all we have, and I'm holding onto that time like a lifeline."

Liquid glass filled my limps making every sound, every movement slow and cumbersome. My ears rang, and I struggled to process his words because if I did, I was certain I would collapse to the floor and cry.

"No," I said as water began to leak from my eyes. "Absolutely not."

"Mary." Francis' eyes softened. "This is the only way."

I closed my eyes as he cupped my cheek, and silent tears dripped down my face.
"I won't leave you!" I cried, pressing my face into his shoulder. "You can't make me!"

"So stubborn," he murmured fondly as he pressed his lips softly against my forehead.

It wasn't until I felt the drops of water touch my forehead that I realized Francis was crying. It wasn't hard or aggressive, and it wasn't sad or full of despair. His silent tears were simply a symbol of the deeper understanding between us that we may not see each other for a very long time.

Deep down, though I loathed to admit it, I knew he was right. I had to leave, and he had to stay. As much as it would kill me, our separation (along with the rest of the Valois line) was a necessary part of preserving our reign.

"Don't make me go," I whispered into his collar as water pooled around my eyes. "Don't make me choose between being with you and my duties as Queen."

"It's simple really," he said in a soft voice. "There isn't a choice to be made. You and my family will hide until it's safe for your return."

Without warning, I pulled away from him, turning my back as I glared at the stone walls in front of me.

"Don't make it sound like a vacation when it's not. It is anything, but that."

"I know. Believe me." He breathed harshly, inhaling air in uneven breaths as he continued, "But I can't bear the thought of never seeing you again. If anything happened to you, I don't know what I would do—what I would be capable of doing. It's not a side of myself that I'd like to explore."

"Then, don't," I said with newfound resolve. "I'll be fine—You don't need to waste your energy worrying about me."

Francis chuckled, tucking a section of hair behind my ear.

"That's impossible, I'm afraid, but I'll try to worry less." He paused, dragging his long fingers through his scalp. "Though, I'd never consider my concern for you a waste of energy. It's simply built into my nature. I'm afraid you're stuck with it," he said with an amused smirk.

I rolled my eyes, nudging him in the ribs.

"I don't know how you manage to joke in times like these. My heart is choking on stress," I said, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. The bitter, metallic taste lingered at the back of my throat, and I turned my head back to Francis.

"I'm sorry, love." His voice was earnest as he crossed the distance between us in one stride. He placed his hands on my shoulders and gently pulled me towards his chest, embracing me in a hug. "If I don't find good in the moments we have left, I'm afraid of the person I will become. That is not a man I ever want you to meet."

"What do you mean?" I pulled away from him with a raised eyebrow taut expression.

His eyes never wavered as he stared at me dead-in-the-eyes. "I don't know how far I am willing to go to keep you safe, Mary. I don't know what I would or wouldn't do if something unthinkable happened. And if I stop, for just a moment, to think of the possibilities we face . . . It drives me mad."

"You don't think I feel the same?" I said. Could he be so blind?

"Of course I know you feel the same," he said quietly. "Why do you think I have to send you away? You, Mary Valois, are my greatest strength and weakness. All Conde has to do is capture you, then France is his."

"But captured or not, any outcome that results in Conde and England taking the throne subsequently results in my death. I am Elizabeth's greatest rival. Can you honestly fathom the idea of her allowing me to live?"

"Mary . . ." Francis struggled for words. "Let's not have this conversation. Not now."

He took a step away from me and returned his attention to the document on his desk.

"So you want to send me away and not talk about this? You wish to ignore the core of our problems?" My voice rose in volume as my frustration grew. We were getting nowhere. There was no miracle solution in sight.

We were just as stuck as we were days ago. Even though I understood why he needed to send me away, it still wasn't a permanent solution. It wasn't what we needed.

"There is no 'core' to our problems, Mary." Francis said, returning to the seat of his desk. "We simply have problems and no solutions."

"There is a core to our problems!" I said with tears in my eyes. "We don't have the resources to win against England. And if England wins, you die. I die."

"Mary—" Francis' voice grew thick with emotion.

"Sending me away won't matter. If anything happened to you . . ." I choked on my own words. "If something happened, I would no longer be the Queen of France. I would be the Queen of Scotland, and England would rip apart this world until they found me. Until they found me, executed me, and took Scotland."

Tears were now brimming in Francis' eyes as he stared blankly in front of him. He was looking at me, but not seeing me.

"That will never happen. I won't allow it."

I avoided his gaze, afraid to reveal the truth with my eyes before I could speak the words aloud.

"I don't think you will have much choice in the matter."

"Then you'll leave at once! You, my mother, Claude, Lola and John . . ." he trailed off. "You'll take the next carriages away from the palace!"

He rambled on and on about plans, brilliant plans that would save us, save the monarchy and our reign. His words were fast, loud, and frankly, chaotic. It felt like my head was being split in two as he went on and on, refusing to cease.

Finally, after minutes of non-stop rambling, I shouted, "Stop it, Francis!"

My eyes, wide with stress and fear, softened as I watched Francis' body stiffen and sink into the chair.

"I can't—I can't do this!"

He gasped, burying his head in his hands as his body shook with sobs. I could hear him struggling to contain the erratic outbursts, but ultimately he failed.

Automatically, like a moth drawn to a flame, my hand reached out towards him, and I ran to his side. But once I was there, standing over his crippled body, I couldn't touch him.

I couldn't.

It would break the careful, strong facade I had built up over the past weeks, and then, Francis would never let me go. He would stop me from doing what I finally realized needs to be done in order to protect him and France.

I needed to stab Conde.

I didn't need to kill him, that wouldn't be necessary to stop him. But I did need to wound him enough to prevent him from leading the coup in France. Without Conde, England would have no ground to take France.

This war would finally be over once and for all.

AN: Don't forget you can get exclusive behind the scenes of my books/graphic on my instagram account!!! (elly_6431)

 Do you know how weird it is to realize that while this story is a continuous stream of words in my head everyday, while I steadily write each chapter, there is a long pause of suspense where you don't know what happens next? I'm sorry :( I'll try to post on a more regular schedule!

Anyway, this is the point in the story where we start to move faster! The next chapter especially things are going to escalate quickly, and we're going to have a face-to-face confrontation with the conflict!

If I had to guess, I would say this story may end up being around 20ish chapters long? I love drawn out stories, but it also comes to a point where you don't want to drag out the conflict for too long. I like my stories to be balanced so we'll see. There may be 30 or 40 chapters. I'll just do what feels right :)

Other than that, I have no updates! Though, I am going to do a limited time offer where if you write a review for any chapter in this book and pm it to me, I will either vote/comment on whichever book you would like (or leave a review) or make you a graphic or your choosing! This is just a little thing for fun to show you guys how much I appreciate you :)

As always, thank you so much for reading my books! I genuinely do appreciate it!! 

-Elly6431