Reign: The Haunting Read Free Page A

on my way there now.” Francis felt his tensions slip away slightly as Mary took his hand in hers. Even though her guards were only feet away, he felt like they were the only two people in the world when they were together. He had never dreamed he could love this deeply. “Walk with me?”
    â€œIs my presence required?” Mary asked, a winsome smile on her face. “I’ve already had the pleasure of your mother’s company once today, I don’t know if I can manage two audiences in twenty-four hours.”
    â€œLet’s take the long way back.” He squeezed her hand in his. “You saw my mother? To what did you owe that pleasure?”
    â€œJust a happy run-in,” she replied. Lies tripped off her tongue too lightly these days, but this wasn’t meant to hurt anyone, she only wanted to help Francis. “Tell me of this cousin of your mother’s.”
    â€œI’ve never met him,” Francis said, taking Mary’s arm as they strolled back toward the castle, turning to take a different route from the one that had led him to the cottage. “I understand he didn’t get along with my father. It’s not that long since the Strozzi family and the Medicis were enemies.”
    â€œAny enemy of your mother is my friend,” Mary said, smothering her laughter at the sight of Francis’s quirked eyebrow. “I’m joking, I promise. How did they come to be allies?”
    Francis gave her a playful shove, smiling a real smile at last and shaking off the final vestiges of his dream, chasing them away with another kiss. “Marriage, of course. Isn’t that what brings all warring factions together? The Strozzis were far richer than the Medicis, but Mother’s family seized political control in Florence, to all intents and purposes, ruining their rivals.”
    â€œI can hardly believe it,” Mary said, wrapping her rabbit-fur stole around her velvet-clad shoulders although the chills that ran down her spine had far more to do with Francis’s kisses than the cold. “As if a Medici would take delight in destroying rivals.”
    â€œCardinal Strozzi’s brother fought beside me at Calais.” Francis pulled her closer. “They are loyal friends. I’m sure they would very much like to meet their new…”
    â€œFrancis?” Mary grasped at his hand as his fingers fell away from hers and his words trailed off into silence. It only took her a moment to realize what had claimed his silence. “Oh, Francis, I’m sorry. Let’s turn back.”
    Before them lay the jousting grounds where Henry had received his fatal blow.
    â€œNo, it’s fine.” Francis steeled himself, leaving Mary’s side. It was all too much, the dreams, the guilt, the lies. “I had to return here someday.”
    â€œLook.” Mary pointed toward the barrier that separated the jousters, picking up her skirts to take a closer look. “Someone has left flowers where he fell.”
    Francis felt a chill come over him and his legs became unsteady. “Flowers?”
    â€œRoses,” Mary replied, looking back over her shoulder from where she knelt. “Someone has planted roses.”
    â€œâ€˜Beware wild roses,’” Francis whispered. “‘Blood will have blood.’”
    â€œFrancis?” Mary focused her gaze on the king, every part of her being aware of his panic. “What’s wrong?”
    For the want of an answer, Francis turned on his heel and ran back to the castle, away from the roses, away from Mary.

Chapter Three
    â€œWhen Catherine decides to throw a party, Catherine throws a party,” Lady Kenna said to her husband, Bash, as they entered the grand hall. The room glowed with candlelight and sang with music, food, and drink everywhere she looked. A servant was in front of them before she could even think to be thirsty, holding out a silver platter laden with fully charged