Francis pressed soft, tender kisses against my neck. My fingers swept through his hair, pulling his face closer to mine.

"I love you," I whispered against his cheek.

Hot breath brushed against my mouth, and he kissed me. Fiercely and passionately, he kissed me. He kissed me until both of us were gasping for air because we needed more.

"My Mary," he whispered, cradling my face between his hands.

My eyes brightened. With a smile, I leaned in to press my lips against his mouth.

When he began to match my movements, his lips moving against mine, I pulled away.

"It's been a month," I said. "How are we still allowed to do this?"

In exchange for signing away his family's claim to the french throne, Francis released Louis Conde to his brother, Antoine de Bourbon, the King of Navarre. Since Conde was removed from the castle, Francis and I had been granted unlimited time to 'spend as you please,' as Catherine put it.

In other words, France was ready for an heir, and the lords were willing to shelf the king's duties in order to acquire one.

"I am the King of France," he breathed, pressing his lips softly against my ear. "I do whatever I please."

"Francis." I sighed.

Leaning forward, with his head resting against the crook of my neck, I sat up in our bed. I wore a white silk nightgown with flowers embroidered along the hem. The short sleeves, which normally covered my shoulders, were hanging several inches down my arms, exposing my collarbone.

Francis relaxed against the bed, propping his head up on his pillow.

"What's wrong?" he said, reaching for me.

Wrapping the bedsheets around my chest, I turned around to face him. His eyes were bright with happiness. He had been this way ever since we avoided the war that would have likely taken both of our lives. Though, by the set of his facial expression, I could tell he was concerned about me.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's right," I said. His eyes crinkled as his lips pulled into a breathtaking smile. "Every day we get to do this," my hand gestured between us and the bed, "which is so nice, Francis. I never want it to end."

His eyes softened with understanding. Without warning, his arms wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me gently against his chest.

"Me neither," he said. He pressed his lips against my forehead.

Leaning back, I stared up into blue eyes.

"But it has to end—one day. The day I learn I am bearing our child, the thing we want more than anything in the world, we lose this. And, Francis . . ." water lined my tear ducts, "I am not certain I will ever be ready to let go of this. To let go of you."

He grinned mischievously.

"We'll still have the evening . . . and the morning."

I smacked his chest.

"Did you take into account a baby crying?" I said

Crossing my arms over his chest, I rested my head on my arms, staring at him with an amused expression.

"No . . . but why would the baby sleep in here? That's what nannies are for."

My mouth popped open, eyes wide with shock, while he frowned in confusion.

"You did not just say that," I said

"Say what? That I expect our child to grow up with a nanny? I grew up with a nanny, and please excuse my arrogance—I think I turned out alright."

"I thought so too until you opened your mouth just now," I said. Pushing myself off his chest, I rolled over to my side of the bed and rested my head against the headboard. "John is being raised by Lola, not a nanny. Why would our child be any different? Can I not be a mother and a queen?"

Francis spoke in a calm, quiet voice. "First, Lola is not the Queen of France and Scotland. Second, you are going to make a wonderful mother—you are already a magnificent queen. But I won't lie and pretend like our future child—any of our children—aren't different from John. He will never rule: they will."

"I understand that. I witness that reality every day between you and Bash. However, what I don't understand is why you want our child to rely on a nanny, during the morning and evening, our only spare time, when they have us. Shouldn't that time be spent with us?

"I am not opposed to nannies. Our children will need them. But I think we must also remember that they will always need us more. And when they need us, they need to know that we will be there for them. Always, without a doubt."

I looked over my shoulder, and there he was, nodding his head with a slight smile. His eyes shone with pride.

"Of course," he said. "Of course we will be there for them. To take care of them, to teach them, to love them. We will always be there."

"They will always have us . . . for as long as we both shall live."

My lips pulled into a soft smile, and his eyes twinkled with joy. Curls of blonde hair twisted around his ear, and reflected golden sunlight. Our window was open. The day was bright and new.

And my period was two weeks late. I made my ladies promise to not utter a word. Especially Kenna.

"I love you," I said, sliding off the mattress. "I loved you when we were children," Francis chuckled, "I loved you from the moment I stepped back into French Court," I walked around the bed towards him with slow, even steps, "and I love you now more than I thought it was possible to love someone.

"Our love is alive. It beats with every breath I take, and it pulses through every vein in my body. I love you. I love you so much that imagining a life where I have to live without you feels like death itself. I never want that life. I want to spend every day of the rest of my life loving you. Our love has brought me the greatest joy. And it is a gift I will never be able to sufficiently thank the Lord for."

Francis launched himself from the bed. Running across the floor, his body collided with mine. Placing his hands around my waist, he lifted me above his head and twirled, spinning me around in circles. Light laughter bounced from my throat. I tilted my head down and stared into his eyes. Happy wasn't a sufficient word to describe the glint in his eyes.

Eventually, after several minutes of joy-filled silence, Francis lowered me to the ground.

"I love you so much," he breathed, tucking a dark strand of hair behind my ear. "I won't even attempt to put my love for you in words. It's nothing but impossible. No one has ever loved someone the way I love you."

"Except for me."

"Impossible." Grinning, he shook his head.

"No, Francis," I said, "No one has ever loved someone the way I love you. Poets write about damsels falling in love with monster-slaying princes. And yet, here I am, just a girl, who's fallen in love with a boy."

"And here I am, a king, who's fallen in love with a queen."

"Promise me something," I said, grasping his hand between both of mine.

"Anything."

"No matter what happens, war, children . . . your mother," he smirked at the mention of Catherine, "we will always have this. We will always have each other."

"I promise," he breathed, tucking my head underneath his chin.

"Good." I snuggled my face against his chest, "Then, there is something I must tell you."

"Please tell me you didn't receive another love letter. I don't think I can handle almost going to war twice. Nearly losing you once was enough for a lifetime."

"No," I said. "No love letters for me. Though, if you did want to write me one, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea."

"Be careful with what you say, Mary Queen of Scots. One day, you just might wake up to a pile of sappy, poetic love letters written by your husband."

"I don't know what you're going on about. Personally, I think that would be lovely. Though, I would feel bad for the servants, cleaning up all of that parchment and storing them in my private bed chambers has to be exhausting."

"I wouldn't feel too bad for them. They live for gossip. I would be more concerned about them keeping their noses where they belong."

"I find their interest in our relationship endearing. The way I see it, if the worst thing our people do is gossip about us, we are doing a good job."

His lips curled upward.

"You may be right—or, they're just nosy. Either one," he said.

"Either one," I repeated.

I tilted my head back until I met blue eyes. He smiled.

Slowly, with the gentlest of movements, I reached for his hand, guiding it until it rested on my lower abdomen.

He froze.

"I'm late," I said. "It's been some weeks now, but I wanted to be sure . . . after the miscarriage and Conde, and I am sure. I am with a child—our child—at last."

Cheerful noises escaped Francis' throat. Cupping my cheek, he bowed his head and kissed me.

When he pulled away, hot air brushed against my cheek, and he grinned from ear-to-ear.

"You knew!" He laughed. "This entire time you knew, and you didn't utter a word."

"This," I looked around the room, focusing particularly on the bed with a warm flush rushing to my cheeks, "made both of us so happy. I wasn't ready to take that away."

With the purest form of love in his eyes, he said, "We are having a child."

I nodded my head, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"We are having a child."

There was a point in my life when I cried for my regrets, because of my pain, and for Francis because I believed I was broken. Now, Francis and I cried tears of joy together because after everything, our future was finally beginning to fall into place.

"Whisper me our future," Francis said several nights later. "Tell me about our happy lives."

We layed in bed, facing each other with longing expressions.

"I want to give you children," I said.

I wanted Francis and I to have a large family similar to his own. I wanted our child to grow up with siblings.

"Are they playing outside? Don't you hear them?" he said in a wistful voice.

"Francis . . ." I whispered, watching him with an odd expression.

"Our lovely children," he said. "Anne . . . and James."

Catching on, I smiled.

"Yes, Anne and James."

I like the names. They were simple, yet powerful. They were perfect.

"Anne takes after you," he whispered. "She's so strong and beautiful. She's fast as lightning. She . . ." he trailed off in thought, "she never lets James win."

"And they chase each other around the castle," I said in a soft voice. "That's right: Anne always wins. That's all they'll talk about at dinner. She wants your praise. And after dinner—your usual game of catch with Anne—James will want your attention too with his reading."

Francis smiled at me.

"I'll have him work on it," he said.

"You promise?"

"Promise," he said, rubbing gentle circles over my slight baby bump.

Together, we stayed like this until we both nodded off into peaceful slumber.

Our lives weren't perfect, but they were ours. Despite all odds, we found each other, time and time again, and we chose love.

Once, I was drowning, but Francis did not save me. He taught me how to swim. He taught me not only how to survive, but how to push forward, beyond my own doubts, and move with the waves, instead of against them. And I was stronger for it.

Yes, my actions defined my life, but so did my choices.

I chose to be Mary, Queen of Scots.

I chose to be Mary Valois, Queen Consort of France.

And every day, as easy as the sun rising above the horizon, I chose to love Francis.

And nothing, no person, no war, would ever take away the importance behind these choices.

My choices.

Authors Note: I apologize for the the amount of time it has taken me to update this book, but I think the result was worth it. Part of the reason why I put off writing this story is because I didn't want it to end. I didn't want to write an epilogue because that would mean this story is over, and I don't want that.

So I am not calling this an epilogue. This is a happy closing to a story that is very near and dear to my heart, but it is not the end. This a my thank you to every single one of you who has take the time to read my book, to vote on it, to comment on it, to message me. I can't describe in words the joy it has brought me to share my love for this work with each and every single one of you.

As a piece of gratitude, at a later date, I am publishing this chapter with a video attached. It has audio, in the voices of the actors, reading this chapter.

A simple thank you to all of you who have taken this journey with me. It has been an incredible ride, and I can't wait to continue Mary and Francis' story in bonus chapters and an eventual epilogue.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

-Elly6431