by D C Young
“What is it, Julia? You seem quite unlike yourself. Has something happened?” Sam's tender and reassuring tone was exactly what was needed to ease Julia's demeanor.
“It's not me, Sam. Marie received a telephone call today. The news was rather disconcerting.”
“Was it Marie who asked for me to come?”
“Yes.”
With that revelation, Sam instantly knew the gravity of the situation. In the years, Sam had been interacting with the Elder Watchers of the Immortal Council; Marie de Guise had made it quite plain that she was quite indifferent to Sam. The two barely spoke as a result.
“What was the news?”
“Sometime, probably a decade or so after Marie made her transition to immortality, her faithful servant and companion, Antoinette Nemours died peacefully in her sleep.”
“Okay, nothing out of the ordinary there,” Sam said.
“No, not at all, Sam. In fact, Marie knew when it happened. She even attended the funeral and visited Antoinette's grave site many times.” Julia quickly raised her hand to stop an interruption from Sam. “It seems that Antoinette didn't actually pass away in her sleep. She was turned by a vampire and her natural death was faked.”
Sam's eyes widened.
“Exactly!” Marie said loudly from behind them. Julia and Sam whirled around to see the vampire leaning calmly against the doorway. Her temper had cooled incredibly with the setting of the sun. “And I want you to find her and bring her back here to us so I can find out what happened to her and where she has been for all these centuries.”
“You don't need me for that, Marie,” Sam scoffed. “The Easter Watchers must know of her existence and where to locate her.”
“That's just it, Moon. They don't and I find that very peculiar.” Just as suddenly as she had appeared, Marie dropped her cool facade. She wrung her hands and her lips quivered as if she would burst into tears. “I don't think she knew that my husband Louis came to me in my bedchamber that night when I died. And the more I think about it, the more I have to believe that she had no idea I was made immortal that night.”
“Well, that would change the look of everything in this case, Marie,” Sam said.
“Yes, I know.”
“Let's go down to the library,” Julia suggested, taking a quick glance into the salon where there were several eager immortal, eavesdropping ears whose owners were busy pretending they weren't listening.
“Yes, let's do that,” Sam agreed.
The three silently made their way to the stairs and descended into the vast library below Elysium House It was an arena of knowledge, one that Sam could only compare in stature to the Occult Reading Room at Cal State Fullerton.
“Indeed, Sam,” Julia agreed, hearing her thoughts clearly. “The Alchemist's is quite comparable if not just a bit superior to mine.”
Julia was the only vampire Sam could remember having the power of thought reading. She'd met many people who had the gift, her daughter Tammy included; but it was a rare ability among vampires to be able to read other vampires minds.
Sam had once consulted Archibald Maximus on why that was the case among her kind and the answer had been less than concrete. Sam had resolved that when the opportunity seemed right she would ask Julia herself. Perhaps that had been Max's intention from the get go.
The three women settled down, facing each other while seated in the armchairs of a comfortable reading alcove. Sam, had become accustomed while dealing with members of the Immortal Council, and waited patiently for Marie de Guise to begin her story.
It took several minutes of her gathering her thoughts and occasionally sighing deeply, but she eventually took a deep breath and began to speak.
Chapter One
“You have a choice to make, my dear,” the king's solemn tone and the grave expression on his face spoke volumes to the twenty-two-year-old. It was not the first time he had made a statement. His expression had become more strained each time he had made it.
“I understand, Your Grace” She responded. “It is a difficult thing and not something which I intend to take lightly.”
“It is a difficult decision, indeed,” Francis responded. “I would not wish to put this burden upon anyone, but it is important that the choice you make is your own. We have spoken many times about the benefits of accepting the offer of each suitor.”
“We have indeed she whispered. “And the consequences as well.”
He might have forced a decision upon her. In fact, he might have made the decision for her and not bothered to allow her a choice in the matter, However, King Francis I had paid her the respect of choosing the man with whom she would spend the remainder of her days. Though a decision had been needed for months, Francis had given the proceedings pause after the death of Marie's infant son, Louis. The boy had been named after his father who, as fate would have it, had also died the previous summer. To force anything upon the grieving widow and mother might have been the death of her as well.
Thus, three kings presently waited for Marie de Guise to make a choice which would have a profound effect upon history.
“We hold all of the bargaining chips in this situation, Marie,” Francis continued. “Though you are no virgin bride, your fertility is proven and any King with a head on his shoulders will regard that highly.” His expression softened a bit and a partial smile shadowed his lips. “But you really should make a decision soon. A trip away might help to clear your head; to the chateau in the mountains, perhaps? The snow is gone and the wildflowers will be in bloom soon.”
“I appreciate your kindness,” Marie smiled. She did not want to continue to hold things up. She knew that everyone was becoming more and more anxious by the day. Her heart was leaning in one direction already, but she had not yet spoken the name of the man she would marry aloud. She would make a decision but she would search her heart one more time; one more night. That single compromise was set in her mind the moment she made it.
“Tomorrow morning,” she said after a few minutes had passed. “I will declare my decision to you and the court tomorrow morning.”
“You are certain?” Francis asked.
Marie hesitated only a moment. Making such a promise to the king was not something to take lightly. She sucked in a breath, held it a moment and then responded. “I am certain.”
“Very well then,” the king declared as he dismissed her from their private counsel. “The court will be assembled tomorrow morning to hear your decision.”
“Let it be so, Your Grace,” Marie responded as she curtsied before the king and then took her leave of the private chamber.
She was attended by a vast entourage as she retreated to her own part of the palace. As Duchess of Longueville, Marie was afforded great privilege at court. As a potential consort to either Henry VIII of England or James V, her welfare was of the utmost importance. She was watched over as diligently as the king himself.
Both of her suitors sought her in order to strengthen their alliance with France. James V of Scotland had sealed an alliance with Francis and France the previous January when he was wed to Madeleine de Valois, Francis' daughter. The alliance was sealed, but Princess Madeleine's health had been tenuous at best. It had been the hope that Madeleine would recover, but by July she died and left James without a wife or any offspring. The death of Marie's own husband, Louis of Orleans, Duke of Longueville the month before Madeleine's passing, had left Marie a widow and, to the thinking of many, the legitimate choice to replace Madeleine. It might have been a simple thing to arrange, except that Marie gave birth to Louis' son, naming him after his father in August. Baby Louis died some months later, leaving Marie to grieve a friend, a husband and a child.
Given a previous of grieving, marrying James V might have been a simple thing, except for the fact that Jane Seymour, Henry VIII's beloved third wife, had died giving birth to their son Edward in October. Tired of the eternal struggle to rule his holdings in France, the year 1537 wrapped up with Henry making an appeal f
or Marie's hand in order to prevent James from once again securing the French alliance for Scotland.
For Francis, there were many benefits and consequences to be weighed between the two suitors but he had not found it in his heart to force Marie into accepting a decision he made. In some ways, where Marie was concerned, it might have been easier than having to make a choice. Neither of them is my Louis, she had confessed to herself many times over the previous six months and repeated as she swept into her chambers and sought out the seat beside the window which overlooked the vast palace garden.
“Can I bring you something, madam?” Antoinette asked as she accompanied Marie to her favorite spot. The others in her entourage had learned through experience that only Antoinette was allowed to follow along behind Marie into her private chambers without being invited. Instead, they waited dutifully and patiently at the door.
“I wish that you would make a choice for me, dear Antoinette,” Marie responded.
“I could never presume to do such a thing,” Antoinette answered.
Marie had chosen Antoinette to attend in her privy chamber when Princess Madeleine had given the Duchess the pick from among her own attendants. At the time, Marie had just been assigned chambers at the palace by Madeleine's father, the king.
Marie was wise and took the gesture exactly as Madeleine had intended it; a trusted handmaid would best be found from among those the princess had recommended. From that moment, Antoinette had always been with her. She had chosen her partly because her name was the same as her own mother, but also because of her kind and humble demeanor.
“I know you would not,” Marie responded. She considered asking for Margaret, the younger daughter of the king, to come sit with her, but she would not presume upon the daughter of the king in such a way. There were ways of hinting that she would like her company, however. “Has Margaret come back from riding?”
“She has not,” Antoinette responded.
“Would you advise me as soon as she has?”
“I will, madam. Will there be anything else?”
“For the moment, I would prefer to be left alone.”
“Very well.” Antoinette curtsied before retreating to the door.
“Oh, Louise!” Marie sighed What a mess you and Madeleine have left me to sort out.”
Her thoughts turned to Madeleine and the extravagant affair which had been her wedding to James. In spite of the fact that the marriage had been arranged as part of a 20 year old treaty, Madeleine and James had made a striking couple and Marie hoped that Madeleine's health would hold out so that she too could enjoy the happiness that she and Louis had shared. Five months of festivities had followed the nuptials, most of which Marie had missed. It had been discovered that she was with child not long after the ceremony had been carried out and suddenly, she was on her own path.
Marie had lived the dream vicariously through Margaret, who had missed barely a moment of her older sister's honeymoon trip. Once Madeleine had left the shores of France, darkness had settled in and had held her in its grip as piece by piece her happy world had crumbled under the fist of Death.
Spring had begun to bring Marie out of her dark slump as she witnessed the new beginnings in the garden below her window. As so many flowers bloomed and trees blossomed there, so did her dormant heart. She was to be the consort of a king and thus, a queen. It was hard not to relish such a promise, but the joy which might have come was dampened by the fact that she was forced to make a choice.
Henry and England promised prestige and wealth that reached well beyond her wildest dreams. London was full of life and spirit, not unlike Paris and certainly above the dull, misty cold of Edinburgh But what sort of happiness could she find with Henry, who was old enough to be her father; was five years older than her father, in fact.
His conflict with the church was certainly something to keep in mind, but it paled in comparison to the fact that he had cast aside Katherine, a Royal Princess of Spanish blood; unceremoniously annulling their marriage. Then he'd ordered the beheading of his second wife, Anne Boleyn. Marie knew it was no coincidence that neither woman had succeeded in bearing him a son.
He was rude and arrogant; the complete opposite o her beloved Louis When it came to wedding a man for love and companionship, it was likely that Henry would provide her with neither. But did that matter anymore? She had loved Louis; still loved him. She might be able to remain faithful to that love if she chose to marry Henry.
James, on the other hand, was only three years her elder, which essentially amounted to no difference at all. The image she had of James was one of admiration, dignity and elegance. That image had been shaped by the wedding as well as accounts from both Madeleine and Margaret. He was a romantic figure with a manner about him that was not a great deal different from her Louis.
It was because of those attributes that she feared marrying James. If she began to love James, would that make her unfaithful to the love she'd had with Louis? She left the question unanswered as Margaret burst into her chamber before Antoinette was able to announce her.
“Is it true, Marie?” Margaret asked. Her eyes were wide with excitement and she was still in her riding apparel as she strode across the room toward her. “You are making your announcement in the morning?”
“It is true,” Marie responded.
“You have decided, then?” Margaret probed.
“I have not.”
“You have not decided, but you are making the announcement,” Margaret frowned.
“It is time,” Marie responded. “I cannot hold three kingdoms hostage any longer. It simply is not right.”
“You are starting to sound like my father,” Margaret snorted. “Did he put you up to this?”
“He did not.”
“So, what are you going to do? They cast lots in the bible. Perhaps you will take a more modern tack and toss a coin then?”
“Neither would hardly be appropriate,” Marie laughed.
“Who says?” Margaret countered. She turned and called out to Antoinette. “my chaperon is outside. Fetch a coin from her for me, please.”
“You mean to tell me that the fate of three kingdoms might be decided by the tossing of a coin or the casting of lots?”
“Sure,” Margaret replied. “The way I see it, the Treaty of Rouen, which decided the fate of my sister was hardly more appropriate.”
“But...”
“Just follow my thinking, okay?” Margaret interrupted.
Marie cut off her response and nodded her consent.
“There's good and bad in both, right?”
Marie nodded.
“Personally, I would go with James, but it's your choice, and it is one that you haven't been able to make, so...” She paused as Antoinette delivered a beautiful sliver Nassaro teston coin to her hand and then retreated. “Wouldn't you say that the good and bad of each are about even?”
“Yes.”
“I say that your heart leans in one direction and you just do not know it yet.”
“You have said that before but a coin can hardly decide that for me.”
“Are you certain?” Margaret challenged.
“I am certain,” Marie responded. She was a bit taken aback by Margaret's insistence that her fate and that of three kingdoms might come down to the tossing of a coin. “You cannot be serious about this!”
“Watch,” Margaret grinned and she held up the coin in front of her. “This side of the coin is Henry and this side of the coin is James.”
“Margaret, no...”
Margaret tossed the coin in the air. Marie did her very best to turn away. There was no way that she was going to allow such a profound decision to be decided in such a profane manner. She heard the coin fall to the floor, but refused to look at it.
“You can either abide by the coin or go against it, but the choice has been made,” Margaret declared as she turned away.
“Where are you going?”
“I've got to get out of these cloth
es,” Margaret declared. “I smell like a stable. I'll see you at dinner.”
The silence which came after Margaret left the room was complete. All except for the ringing of the coin as it hit the floor, which continued to echo through Marie's mind. In spite of the fact that she was appalled by Margaret's abrupt method, she could not help but look at the coin. The moment she saw which side of the coin was turned up she cringed. She certainly was not going to go with that option. The moment the thought entered her head, she knew that her decision had been made.
“Margaret, you clever thing,” she laughed as she pocketed the coin. It was rather valuable and extremely beautiful after all.
Marie did not attend dinner, but had her dinner brought to her chamber. She had made her decision and she was afraid of blurting it out and spoiling the announcement she would make at court the following morning. After dinner, she washed and dressed for bed. Sleep came easily and Marie had the first restful sleep she had known in months, awakening completely refreshed. With complete confidence in her decision, she was dressed for court and made her way to the throne room at the appointed time. She was ushered in and brought before Francis.
“Duchess de Longueville,” King Francis announced to the court. “It is my understanding that you have an announcement to make to the court.”
“You are correct as always, Your Grace,” Marie responded.
“Proceed then.”
“Your majesty has asked me to choose whether I will marry the king of England or the king of Scotland. After some months of mourning and the resulting suspense these three kingdoms have endured, I have now come to a decision,” she responded. She did her best to avoid the eyes and broad smile of Princess Margaret, but caught a glimpse of her and fought back a giggle.
“What choice have you made, Duchess? In which kingdom are you to serve as a queen?”
“I will marry James of Scotland, my liege.”
“Let it be so, then.” Francis spoke firmly. “On the 18th day of May we will conduct a marriage by proxy between Marie de Guise, Duchess of Longueville, and James the Fifth, King of Scotland. After the ceremony is complete, arrangements will be made for your transport to Edinburgh. May you prosper well in Scotland in the grace of our Lord.”