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Friends. With Francis.
Mary mulled over the idea again as she found herself alone outside again, staring out over the water. Francis believed her now that his mother had something to do with the terrorizing she had suffered and he had promised to stay at her side throughout it all but she couldn't get past the whisper of doubt and fear in the back of her mind.
The threat against her life was something that she was unfortunately used to though. England had wanted her dead since she was born and even now she swore she could feel the eyes of the Englishman boring into her back as she stood there quietly. She could hear the sounds of laughter and talk behind her as the yards were filled with people but she felt cold and chilled as though she were all by herself.
Because she was.
Fighting back a tiny shiver, she thought of the girl in the catacombs and the mystery she posed. Once again she wondered who she was and what she wanted, especially from Mary specifically. Why was she helping her? Was it for a good reason or was it a trap for something else? there was simply too many questions and problems before her. Issues beyond the fact that, even if he stayed by her side, there was a chance Francis might not necessarily marry her one day. If he didn't, her country and her person would be left at the mercy of others without France protecting them.
Rubbing her hands over her arms, she closed her eyes as she tried to wish herself away back to the convent again.
Mary mulled over the idea again as she found herself alone outside again, staring out over the water. Francis believed her now that his mother had something to do with the terrorizing she had suffered and he had promised to stay at her side throughout it all but she couldn't get past the whisper of doubt and fear in the back of her mind.
The threat against her life was something that she was unfortunately used to though. England had wanted her dead since she was born and even now she swore she could feel the eyes of the Englishman boring into her back as she stood there quietly. She could hear the sounds of laughter and talk behind her as the yards were filled with people but she felt cold and chilled as though she were all by herself.
Because she was.
Fighting back a tiny shiver, she thought of the girl in the catacombs and the mystery she posed. Once again she wondered who she was and what she wanted, especially from Mary specifically. Why was she helping her? Was it for a good reason or was it a trap for something else? there was simply too many questions and problems before her. Issues beyond the fact that, even if he stayed by her side, there was a chance Francis might not necessarily marry her one day. If he didn't, her country and her person would be left at the mercy of others without France protecting them.
Rubbing her hands over her arms, she closed her eyes as she tried to wish herself away back to the convent again.
