Authors note: Hi! This is my first Reign fic but I adore Catherine de Medici and particularly her relationship with Henry so it most likely won't be my last. I plan to continue this story at least for one more Chapter but depending on reviews I will continue it further. But moving on lol I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think as I live off of feedback and will love you forever if you do haha xo

Disclaimer: I do not own Reign.

The moment her eyes met his fear crept it's way deep into her soul. The guards carried Richard off toward his death, even in his final hour his thoughts were for her though. Apologising for his failures to protect her as he was dragged past the disgraced Queen of France. She was tempted to reach out for him, to offer some words of comfort..anything to the man that had given her much once. But with her husband staring at her the way he was, burning holes into her skin with his hard glare. He was in pain, that much she knew for sure when she turned to him again. For a moment she was surprised he even cared but quickly wrote it off as anger that she had humiliated him with her unfaithfulness. Not the act itself but the ramifications of it coming to light. Something her dear husband would surely kill her for.

In attempt to save herself she tried to defer his attentions to the sins of his beloved mistress and soon to be legitimised bastard. Probably not her best plan but it was all she had left at this point. But it seemed her last stitch effort only incurred an increase in Henry's rage. Coming to the immediate defence of Diane and condemning her Medici blood. With one fatal swing he almost took the head clean off the guard that had dared support the evidence she had found against his pagan lover. Blood splattering all over her face. It wasn't the first time she had witnessed someone's death, it wasn't even the first time she had seen such a violent murder, certainly not the first time she had seen it brought on by her husbands hand. She was no stranger to murder, in fact she'd killed many herself in the past, but there was something about this one that had any hope of keeping her own head quickly vanishing before her. Part of her feared Henry may even relieve her of it now his eyes were so dark with loathing, though it was written all over his face that her time would come soon enough.

As they dragged her away, back to the tower that was her prison she tried to turn back, tried to face him. She wanted to explain herself, to reason with him away from watchful eyes. But their grip was to strong and she was unable to look back enough to catch his eye.

In her dark, dank little hovel at the highest point of the castle that reminded her oh so much of her time in Florence, bringing up more than a few unpleasant memories and causing many a nightmare, her thoughts ran wild. She had hurt him, perhaps in the same way he had been hurting her for two decades and now he was going to kill her for it. A bitter rage quelled within the pit of her stomach at the thought. He had for years paraded his mistresses around her, forcing her to suffer countless humiliations, cutting her heart to pieces every time he appeared with yet another young whore on his arm. She wasn't sorry for it. Richard had been for her what he should've been, what he could've been if he hadn't been so consumed by Diane. He was the only man that had never hurt her, that had put her needs above his own and so in her weakest moments, when she was at her wits end with Henry and Richard was there for her, listening to her, loving her in a way her husband hadn't in years she couldn't stop herself from allowing him to hold her the way she knew he wanted to. She could count the times sighs indulged him on one hand but it seemed God held no sympathy for her as that was enough to leave her with child.

It wasn't hard convincing Henry to share her bed in order to cover her tracks. Diane had family in Paris and so she travelled there often, with her absent Catherine's task took almost no effort on her part. She was beautiful once, perhaps more so even than Diane, though of course he would never admit it, just as he would likely never admit that though she hardly saw herself that way anymore, Henry still thought his wife to be one of the most beautiful women he had ever encountered. Back then he preferred her company in his bed over everyone but Diane, mostly all the others were just out of a childish need to hurt her for what he had perceived as coldness towards him. Soon enough she was showing and Henry was thrilled, though granted he did appear more enthusiastic about his mistresses pregnancy, her heart was warmed by his show of happiness. Having sent Richard away to safety and convinced Henry that the child was indeed his for months she went on with her days, her head held high in pride as she seemed to finally be providing France with an heir, her guilt for this lie lessening each time she saw her husband flaunt his mistresses around court, everything seemed to be falling into place perfectly. That was until she saw her face.

After months of allowing herself to fall in love with the child growing inside her her heart seized in her chest. Richard was one of Henry's oldest friends, as soon as he saw that mark on her face he would know she was not his daughter. Frantically she demanded it be removed, handing her over to Jaques de Nostredame, her trusted physician. He assured her he could do what she asked and with her faith in him strong she waited patiently, telling Henry she was sick and needed attending, she waited for weeks until one day she was informed her child had died; natural causes they assured her, painless they said. She died peacefully they told her. But now she knew that all to be a lie. After hearing her daughters true fate from Nostradamus the guilt was eating her alive, she had always prided herself on being a good mother to her children. No matter her other short comings, she was a good mother. But now even that was tarnished, taken from her from the daughter she never knew existed, that had grown up alone and in the shadows because of decisions she made. She had never named her girl. It had been too painful. Calling her Clarissa, a name she would never have chosen herself helped her to distance herself form the she simply could not bare to love helped to calm her mind some but in her heart she was afraid. Afraid to now face God with this, arguably the greatest of all her sins weighing heavy on her soul.

The King was letting her plan her on funeral, morbid perhaps and most likely due to the fact that he didn't care enough to take care of it himself, but it gave her something to do and got her out of the tower so she was grateful. Planning it somehow provided her with a much needed distraction, coordinating the event left her with little time to think about her impending death. She thought of her children to bring her strength and stop her hands from trembling as she rehearsed her execution. She kept a firm grip on her composed and controlled exterior, harassing the servants in order to make sure each detail was perfect. She wanted for it to be a grand event, something magnificent that all her children could look back on in years from now and hopefully remember her with pride and fondness in their hearts. It was them she worried for most in all this, with all she had suffered in her life, if not for them she may have welcomed death. But they were still all so young and so in need of their mother to love and protect them. Mary had promised to take care of them but still she feared for her little ones everyday. Without her they would be all but orphans, Henry would take no interest in them, especially after the line of succession was shifted. She wanted her little darlings to know that in her final moments she was still their mother, full of pride until the very end she insisted she go out in style, she was the Queen of France and refused to be reduced to anything less by having this day be anything other than unforgettable. Though of course Henry insisted on minimising her vision. Perhaps she was embellishing a little too much but if he was going to insist on beheading her and leaving her children, their children, motherless he could at least grant her this.

As per usual almost immediately after their exchange began it grew bitter. his words treasonous adulterer stung her deep. Her Medici temper threatening to explode in the middle of the populated dinning hall. After all that he had put her through over the years, Diane, Kenna, countless others that he would dare call her that had her blood boiling

"Henry, a moment alone if you would" she requested, her smile tight as she tried to mask the rage vibrating off of her

"I haven't the time, Catherine" he sighed in exasperation as he picked up a goblet of wine and began to walk away from her

"Well I'm afraid it can't wait, I'm on a rather short schedule, what with having only days to live. After over two decades of marriage , surely you can spare me a few moments of your time before you cut off my head my lord." she always had a way of making him feel every bit the bastard he was, he knew exactly what was in store for him , he had expected she would wish to speak to him about his discovery and in truth he wanted to give her a piece of his mind also.

"Very well. Follow me to my Chambers" he said pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked toward his rooms with her close behind. He could already feel the headache coming on but in a way he didn't mind. This was a conversation that needed to be had and they didn't have the luxury of a life time together to let it fester and grow into an even deeper hatred until one day they lost it and ripped each other's throats out. He was heartbroken. Despite his betrayals he loved her deeply and learning that she was not there waiting for him at all times no matter his actions burned him. The thought of her in the arms of another man, with his child inside her had his body trembling with rage and he didn't know if he wanted to strike her down or pick her up and claim her as his and no one else's. He sent away the servants and the guards as soon as he saw that oh too familiar fire in his eyes . No one need witness the war of words that was about to commence.

TBC..?