I avoided Francis as much as I could, without arousing suspicion, for the remainder of the week. He insisted on sleeping on a cot that the servants dragged into my new room, so he could watch over me as I slept—he claimed it helped him sleep better than being alone in our previous chambers. But that was the extent of our contact outside our duties as King and Queen.

Still, Conde was a wall between us: thick and tall. While Francis and Catherine had been worrying over my breakdown in the chambers, apparently Conde had slipped away under the guard's noses.

Though his letter had stated he would be gone by the time I read it, there was no proof that the Prince of Navarre was actually gone. Not until our guards failed to find him, after searching the entire castle. He had slipped away, quiet as a snake.

Yet, I still couldn't find the forgiveness within me to speak to my husband—or Bash. Even talking with Kenna was strained. I understood Bash was her husband, and he had reasons for his decision. But, was it really so easy for her to agree with condemning a man? A man, who she knew was innocent?

The thought made me sick. Whether France and Scotland continued to have the Vatican's support or not, I would never forgive them, if they cut off the head of Louis Conde. Not for as long as I shall live.

With hesitance, I pounded my fist against the palace nursery's door.

"Come in!" Lola's voice rang through the cracks of the door.

I gently pulled open the door and immediately smiled when I saw Lola's face.

"I hoped you wouldn't mind," I said with a gentle smile.

It had been so long since I'd seen her. I missed my best friend.

"Of course not!" Lola smiled down at the small child in her arms with paternal fondness. "I just have to put John down for his afternoon nap, but he doesn't seem too interested in sleep. He's incredibly stubborn."

I laughed.

"Like his father, I see." Like Francis.

"Absolutely," Lola agreed.

She placed John in his crib, patting his head softly as he watched her with bright and curious eyes. His curls were short and blond like Francis, yet his eyes were dark and beautiful like Lola. He was their perfect balance, conceived on a night after Francis and I had temporarily gone our separate ways.

Once, I had regarded this child, Lola's child, as a mistake, a threat to Francis and I's marriage. Now, finally seeing the sweet baby before me, I knew why I never truly faulted Francis and Lola for their one-night-stand. This child was a miracle, made from two of the people I loved the most. I could not find fault in that.

Not when there was no doubt they harbored no romantic feelings for each other. They only shared the love of their son, an innocent and pure love that existed alongside the cherishment of the friendship they built from him. Staring at the baby in front of me now, it was hard to imagine why I ever felt jealous. He was a manifestation of choices, not mistakes,

It was no wonder why his parents adored him, I thought with a softened smile.

"Is something wrong?" Lola said with a curious expression.

Since she had come back to the castle with Francis and their son, things had been tense. It was a struggle to be around her, when it felt like one of the people closest to me betrayed me. Not to mention how difficult it had been to be around a child, Francis' child, when I couldn't give him one myself, after months of trying.

"I'm afraid I haven't been a very good friend to you, Lola," I said, staring down at John with newfound warmth. "I should have been supporting you, as a friend, during this very difficult time. Instead, I've been avoiding you . . ." I trailed off, my voice falling flat.

"It's alright." She brushed her fingers through John's curls before giving me a hidden smile. "I don't think I wouldn't have been too happy in your position either. Though, I can never regret having John—in my heart or aloud."

"You shouldn't. He's beautiful, Lola. A good son."

My breaths were short and longing. Though I still couldn't bear the thought of intimacy, I still longed for the children Francis and I were yet to have. John should have siblings to play with; he shouldn't be growing up alone.

"Are you alright, Mary? You look pale."

Lola's eyes lingered on me with concern.

"Yes," I said, quickly wiping away tears that had dripped from my eyes. "I was just thinking."

"About Francis?" She guessed with a knowing smile of sympathy.

I sighed, moving over to a nearby rocking chair to sit. "Is it that obvious?"

Silently, she nodded, before walking to take the chair across from me.

"Francis briefly mentioned that you've been avoiding him, when he visited John the other day."

"And I'm guessing he slathered the name Conde all over it?" The previously tensed corners of my lips lifted with amusement.

"Absolutely!" Lola laughed. "Whatever that man did to you, Mary, Francis loathes him for it."

"Believe me; I know." Our previous conversations came rushing back in a blur. "He threatened to kill Conde for writing a love letter to me."

"Conde wrote a love letter? To you? To the Queen of France and Scotland?" Her eyes widened in disbelief.

I knew exactly what she was thinking: who would be stupid enough to do that?

Conde. Louis Conde.

"He did," I said in a disinterested tone. "But I care more about Francis' reaction than the letter itself. He banned him from French Court and threatened to kill him if he ever landed eyes on him again."

Lola's lips pressed into a firm line. There were no signs of shock or horror. It wasn't even clear that she hadn't heard this information before.

"Lola?" I asked, trying to pry a response from her lips.

Finally, after seconds of silence, she sighed, glancing in John's direction.

"Francis already told me about Conde and the contents of his letter." My eyes widened. "He knew you were very upset with him, and he was trying to figure out why—or rather if his position on the matter was justified."

Immediately, my shoulders relaxed, weightless with relief. No reason to be jealous.

"And you told him . . .?"

"I told him I understood why you were upset." She paused intentionally, speaking her words with careful thought. "And I told him that he should give you space and time before bringing up Conde again."

I couldn't help but laugh at the irony. Both of us, hopelessly in love with the other, despite obstacles and our actions, came to Lola for advice.

"And to imagine I was about to ask you the exact same thing," I said with a smirk.

Lola grinned.

"I do enjoy giving my friends advice. Though—at this point—I would advise you and Francis to talk about this directly."

"It won't do us any good, if we can't agree. Francis is incredibly stubborn once he makes up his mind about something."

"And so are you, Mary. Which is part of the reason why you are perfect for each other and should work through this."

I bit my lip, staring into Lola's dark eyes.

"He was going to let them kill Louis." Dead. No coming back.

"And you wanted to accept a love letter as a nice compliment instead of as a threat to your marriage." I opened my mouth to argue, but Lola quickly cut me off. "I know you grew fond of Louis after he helped you find . . . those men. But, Mary, whether you like it or not, that letter was a threat. It was a threat to Francis and your marriage. Can't you understand why Francis would take that seriously? He loves you."

"And I love him. But that doesn't—"

Lola cut me off.

"Mary, if you and Francis are going to get past this, you need to accept a scenario where he doesn't agree with you, and you with him. You need to compromise: not argue over past mistakes."

I sucked in a deep breath through my nose, and let the warm air flow from my mouth.

Healing. This is about healing. Not arguing.

"I will try my best," I agreed. "I will talk to Francis."

Lola smiled at me, nodding graciously in approval.

"I think he'd like that very much."

For the next twenty minutes or so, Lola and I caught up on life. Apparently John had been sleeping better through the nights since a new nanny, Grace, was put on duty. Lola hasn't been exhausted beyond repair a day since.

As I was about to leave the room, Lola's voice stopped me.

"He does worry about you, you know."

My hand paused on the door handle, and my breath grew shallow.

"I know you're very upset with him, which is reasonable, but he can't stop talking about you, checking on you. Your health is apparently his new obsession

"He has his guards leave him to check on you periodically throughout the day and report back to him. Did you know that?

"He loves you, Mary. And you love him. Surely, you and him can find your way back to each other."

A smile consumed my lips, and I nodded, sharing one more look with Lola.

"Yes, I think you're right. Thank you, Lola"

She silently nodded, pulling the corners of her lips up with untamed happiness and relief.

Our friendship was finally restored, and Francis and I were in the process of finding our way back to each other.

Truly, there was much to celebrate.

AN: Two chapters written and posted on one day!! Like Mary, there is much to celebrate ;)

Now look, I didn't want to make Conde the bad guy (even though I'm reasonably certain no one likes him). But like . . . is there a choice? I mean, there is, but my goal here is to stay true to the plotline . . . And you know, Conde does some stuff . . .

You'll figure it out in the next few chapters, don't worry :)

As always, thank you so much for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed reading the chapter; it makes my day :) Make sure to comment and vote if you liked this chapter and want to read more like it! It lets me know as a writer you enjoyed what you read, and it raises my book in rank so more readers like you can find it!!

With that said, I hope you have an amazing day! Thank you for sticking with me through these random, compulsive updates :)

-Elly6431