Darkness pooled around me, sheltering me sight as I stared at the stars. The sky was pitch black, freckled with small balls of light that, from the bridge, appeared as little more than tiny bulbs.

"What are you doing up here?" I heard the amusement in the familiar voice, and like a pathetic fool, I turned around with a joyous smile and open arms.

"Bash!" I cheered as I ran up to him and embraced him with a warm hug that was long and unbefitting for a queen. I couldn't care less.

"I was wondering when it would be my turn to see you," he said. His eyes were identical to Francis'. They were so blue and striking that staring into them made me feel like he was boring into my soul. Though, now, they held some sort of fog that unsettled my stomach and made them appear haunted.

"I'm so sorry I didn't seek you out sooner. I wanted to . . . settle things before I did anything else," I said, chewing on my bottom lip.

"Did you settle things?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow skeptically, and I couldn't hold back a sigh.

"As well as I could, under the circumstances," I mumbled. "I told Francis I want him gone." I turned my body towards the stone wall railing of the bridge, and once again, I looked at the night sky.

Bash followed my movements so he was standing beside me.

"Gone is an interesting choice for words," he commented.

A dry laugh pulled from my lips.

"You mean as I could want him gone, away from the castle and France with it, or gone, as in dead."

"Not quite. Those are very cut-throat desires. I doubt you truly want either. Human emotions, our deepest desires rarely fit into boxes, Mary. You wanting him gone is as simple as you choosing to put the past behind you, and not many people are strong enough to make that decision."

I looked at the palms of my hands. It was easy to imagine the blood that would have stained my hands, had my plan of stabbing Conde come to fruition. If General Renaude's men hadn't ambushed my guards and I in the forest, there would be blood on my hands, a stain that I am not certain I would have ever removed.

"I would have killed him," I whispered, eyes still glued to my palms. "If Conde was in that forest, if I had gotten close enough to hear his breath, I would have driven a dagger into his chest, not certain whether he would live or die."

"Mary," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder, "you were only doing what you must. You had every reason to believe that killing Conde was the only solution. You shouldn't blame yourself."

"I don't blame myself. I'm not certain that I blame anyone, even Conde," I said. "As twisted as it may sound, this whole ordeal with Conde and England reminded how flawed people truly are. All we do is act in our own self-interest at the expense of others. The crown I wear, is it a symbol of strength and power? Or is it the symbol of all of the blood that has been spilled from the slit backs of my people."

"It's both."

"What am I supposed to do with that?" I turned my head until I met blue eyes. "Everything I once believed about what it means to be a queen is tainted. I was a fool to think rulers start with a blank slate. The moment we sit on a throne, all of the burdens and sins of the past fall to our feet, and nothing we accomplish during our reign will ever be enough to salvage the damage that has already been inflicted. For all of the good Francis and I achieve, we perpetuate the sins of the past, and our people will suffer for it. How can I sit on a throne again and be content knowing this?"

Bash frowned and placed his hands on the bridge's railing, bracing his weight against it as he leaned forward.

"A throne and a crown have never been what's made you a queen, Mary." He peered over his shoulder to look at me. "The day you were born, you were a queen, and you have remained one ever since. Whether you sit on that throne again or not, you are still Scotland and France's queen. You always have been."

"It feels different now." I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic tang was sharp, but somehow, it eased my nerves. "Everything I once saw one way, I now see another. It feels like I've been tainted."

"You haven't been tainted, Mary. Your perspective has changed, and there's nothing wrong with that. I would even argue that a changed perspective is a good thing. The world around us is constantly changing, so why shouldn't our minds change too?"

Silence pervaded the space until I said, "Has your perspective changed, Bash?"

He sucked in a loud mouthful of air. "In some ways, yes, and in others, no. I suppose, when my father forced Kenna and I to marry, I believed that it was my duty to be the 'perfect' husband."

"And now?" I spoke quietly. He didn't speak about his marriage to Kenna often.

"She seeks things that I can't offer her: riches, land, a title. Our marriage is over."

"I'm sorry, Bash."

"Don't be. Yes, our marriage came from unideal circumstances," I pursed my lips from the memory, "but each of us made our own choices, and those choices are what ruined our marriage, not my father. Me acting how I thought a good husband should did nothing for our marriage. And by the end of our relationship, I realized that it wasn't my duty to be anything for Kenna because duty comes from respect, and after everything, I have none for her."

I buried my face in my hands. "I had no idea. I was so distracted by my own problems that I was clueless to two of my closest friends' suffering."

"I'm not sure suffering is the right word." I heard the smile in his voice and slowly, I raised my head with curious eyes. "Kenna and I have always had a strained relationship. I will admit, I didn't think very highly of my father's mistress, which she knew before our union."

"A very pleasant start to a marriage," I mused, bumping him with my shoulder.

He smiled. "You have no idea."

"So what's next for you? After all of this, will you stay?"

"I will. Have you not heard? I'm the master of horse and hunt."

"A very charming title indeed. I should discuss expanding that title with Francis."

Bash laughed a dry, breathless sound. "Please don't. I am content as I am."

"I know," I said in a soft, fond voice. Bash was a simple man, but he was a good man, and I loved him dearly for it.

"My turn," he said. "What's next for you after Conde's gone?"

I sighed. "No one has asked me that yet."

"They were giving you space, but from what Francis has told me, it seems you're tired of space."

"I am. I suppose, after Conde is out of the picture, life will return to normal. A normal that seemed so far away a few months ago, thinking about it now feels like a breath of fresh air.

"I don't know when I moved past the rape, but it feels like a nightmare today, when before, it felt like a treacherous dream. I haven't forgotten it—I don't think I ever will. But the stars are brighter, the sky is deeper, and truly, I don't think I have ever been more grateful, at any point, for my life than right now."

And it was true. Every brush of cool air against my skin, every blade of grass, every melody was more beautiful than it had ever been before. I lost a part of myself when I was assaulted, and I lost another when I was burdened by Conde's actions. I was so desperate to regain what I had lost, I didn't realize that when I lost those parts, I gained new ones that were even better than before.

"Is Mary, Queen of Scotland and France, happy?"

My teeth parted ever so slightly, and the corners of my mouth curled upward into a smile.

"I don't think 'happy' is a sufficient word to describe how I feel. No matter what I face, I am certain everything will be alright, and I don't think I have ever felt like that before. Every part of my life has always been chaotic and uncertain, and in a way, it still is. But, instead of fearing it, I now embrace it, and I think I'm better for it."

"You are," Bash said. "I didn't think it was possible for you to become more than what you were because you were already so strong, so passionate, so innately good, but you proved me wrong. Learning to move beyond the past is no small feat because it requires you to learn from the past itself. You experienced events that would have crippled grown men, and you emerged stronger. Strong enough to use those experiences as a weapon of your personal design rather than a flaw of your person."

"Those are beautiful words, Bash. Thank you," I said, shifting my gaze to my brother-in-law.

He smiled at me, and all he said was "After everything we've been through, I've said far less than I could."

We stood there, on the bridge, in silence for what could have been hours. Everything left to say had been exhausted by the comfort of silence and each other's company was enough.

Before we parted ways for the night, there was something I had to tell Bash, and I needed him to be the first one to hear it.

"Francis and I, we're going to try for a child again," I said, satisfied when a grin crossed Bash's face.

"Congratulations!" He cheered, pulling me into another warm hug.

"Thank you." I smiled. "After everything, the time finally feels right. Besides, conceiving should take some weeks, if not months, so it's not a rash change in plans."

"Even if it was, you will be a great mother, Mary."

"I truly hope so."

"Pestering my wife, brother?" I gasped, turning quickly to see Francis leaning against the tower behind Sebastian.

"Francis!" I walked to his side and wrapped my arms around his waist, and immeditaely, he pulled me to his chest.

"I missed you after this morning," he whispered in my ear.

"You didn't have to worry. I was in good company." I ducked under his arm to smile at Bash.

"So I see," Francis said, placing his hand on my waist. "Thank you."

Bash nodded and warmly smiled at his brother.

"Any time. And congratulations."

Bash patted Francis on the shoulder as he walked by and gave me one last nod before he exited through the tower. Once we were alone, Francis gently spun my body until I was staring up at his face. I had failed to notice the stubble that had grown on his chin over the past weeks. It suited him.

"Is there a reason why my brother just congratulated me?"

I grinned. He was so cute when he raised his eyebrow.

"Yes," I said with reserved hesitation. "I told him we're ready to start trying for a child again."

Francis' expression froze, and for a second, I worried he was in shock.

"You told me we had to wait until I'm ready, and after everything we've endured, I don't think I have ever been more ready. The joy of bringing a child to this world, I don't think there is a better way for us to spend our time now."

Francis looked down at me. I could see the hesitance in his eyes, even though his lips were clearly resisting the urge to grin from ear-to-ear.

"Are you sure?" His whisper brought a shiver to my spine.

"I have never been more sure."

Then, he kissed me.

His lips brushed against my neck, and I gasped because my heart was beating so fast, it felt like it would give out before I would breathe normally again. And then his mouth pressed delicately against mine, and his hands cupped my cheek, pulling my lips closer to his.

I closed my eyes, letting him hold and kiss me. Every time his skin touched mine, electricity pulsed through me, making the blood in my veins buzz with adrenaline. I had never felt more alive.

"I love you," I breathed against his chest.

And those words were the most important thing I could ever say. Because everyday Francis and I wake up, and we choose to love each other. Above everything else, despite everything else, we chose to love each other, and no words could ever be sufficient to describe the meaning behind that choice.

But 'I love you' came close enough.

AN: I am on a writing kick, and I don't know when it will end, but part of me hopes it doesn't. I was planning to do a set epilogue of nine chapters, but now, I'm feeling spontaneous.

What if I want to write more than nine more chapters? I want the end of the story to be natural and organic, so I won't put a limit on it. We'll see where the story goes.

This story, in a way, is my baby. It's the first book that I'm going to finish. I spent so much time reading, researching, watching videos, listening to author panels in order to develop my writing skills to a point where I was adequately equipped to write novels of my own. And everyday that I write a new chapter of this book or another, I am developing those skills.

I know first-hand the feeling of falling in love with a book. Heck, it's why I decided to become a writer in the first place. No feeling in the world compares to the feelings emitted while reading a good book. Hopefully, some of those feelings have come to you, while reading this book. And hopefully, I have not caused too much distress over whether this book will be finished or not. I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would finish this book, and I fully intend to keep that promise

My advice to all of you aspiring authors is you need to write for yourself. If you're writing for any reason other than your own personal passion and joy, you will fail, at least on a personal level. Writing is so hard. Words that you spent hours writing will be discarded as absolute garbage a few weeks later at times. It take self-discipline, a willingness to learn from criticism, hard work, passion, and above all else, love. You have to love what you do. You have to love coming up with words in your head and writing them on a page. There are literally parts of the days where I will have an imaginary conversation in my head with characters because that's what writing is. To me, inside my head, Mary and Francis are "real" people. They have to be, in order for me to write. I love it. I love all of it.

Maybe, if my writing career takes off one day, I will become an author. Until then, I will be an engineer with a writing side-gig.

Thank you for being on this journey with me.

What do you hope will be in Mary and Francis' future?

I love all of you.

-Elly6431