So, I have a bunch of stories in my drive for Reign and I feel like I might as well post them up to declutter my devices. I have writer's block and at the same time, I am studying for my degree even though we're technically off for the holidays but exams still loom around the corner despite the coronavirus. A few things have been sent to me from my friends and some are helping me work through my writer's block. Even though we're not physically seeing each other, I feel a lot better seeing them through Skype or on the phone so my sanity doesn't leave me and the fact that I'm stuck with my crazy family, haha. I've never appreciated being away from home more than I do now and as much as I love them, I can't wait for the lockdown to be over although my halls of residence will be cancelled by then. Oh, well. Stay safe everyone and try and not kill your family members, haha.

The first time he sees her is at their wedding rehearsal. She's stunning, he can't deny that and the way she converses with his parents and siblings with a flair of confidence, self-assuredness and charm impresses him.

She wears a tight-fitting peach dress that reaches her knees, it hugs her curves wonderfully and Bash takes a sip from his drink, turning to face his brother.

"That's her," he mumbles. "My future wife."

"Mary says she's great," Francis tells him. "Considerate, charitable and charming. The three Cs, what could go wrong?"

Bash laughs wryly. "Everything. For starters, this is the first time we're meeting - a week before our wedding. You got lucky, there was a spark between you and Mary. The only thing I've got with Kenna is that we'd make an attractive couple."

"I don't know about you but Kenna is good-looking," Francis quips, receiving a playful glare.

"Seriously though, I'm not so sure about this anymore," Bash mumbles, taking another sip from his drink. "I'm marrying a complete stranger."

"I don't know what to say to that," Francis replies. "At least Mary and I knew each other as kids. But I'm sure you and Kenna can make things work. How about you take her to dinner tonight? Get to know her without our parents breathing down your necks."

Before Bash can say anything, Henry leads Kenna and her parents over, taking his hand and joining it with Kenna's.

"Would you look at that?" Henry asks her parents. "A perfect fit."

"Aren't we just?" Bash hears Kenna mutter under her breath which makes him smirk. So she's sarcastic and beautiful.

"It's lovely to meet you," he tells her, finishing his drink and placing it on a nearby passing tray. "I've heard nothing but good things from Mary."

Kenna raises an eyebrow, letting go of his hand. "Likewise. If you'd excuse me, there's a drink calling my name."

"Kenna," her father, Robert, says disapprovingly.

"It's a joke, Daddy," she says coyly, rolling her eyes. "Why don't you get to know Sebastian seeing as you chose him. I'm sure you'll get along just fine. I need a breather."

Bash watches as she walks off, passing jokes as she bumps into new conversations along the way. She's a total room worker, the perfect hostess. Not a hair out of place, tidy and perfectionist.

"Interesting, isn't she?" Her mother, Joanna, asks him. "She will make a good wife for you. The whole arranged marriage thing is outdated but you both could seriously make a good thing out of this."

"That is right," Henry tells him, clapping his shoulder. "Why don't you go and get yourself something to drink before we eat?"

Bash leaves their sides, and he spots Kenna leaving the hall. Looking around, he follows her. He sticks his hands into his pockets and sees her stop in her tracks and turn to face him.

"Stalker much?"

"A date, tonight. I will pick you up at eleven," he tells her.

Kenna is surprised as she says, "That's late."

"This dinner doesn't end until nine and most places are closed right now. If you have money-"

"They're only open for you," Kenna realises. "Right. You know where I'm staying."

Bash smiles a little. "See you in there?"

"If I haven't done a runner," Kenna quips but there's something in her eyes that makes Bash know that she just might.

They're in this together.

...

"You could act more like a couple," Joanna whispers into her daughter's ear as they eat.

Kenna nods a little and turns to give Bash a smile, slipping her hair behind her ear. "Tell me about yourself?"

Bash pauses from taking a sip from his drink and he places the cup back onto the table. "I'm not good with talking about myself."

"Something simple then," Kenna says. "Your favourite colour."

"Green," Bash says. "Very outdoorsy."

Kenna gives him a warm smile. "See? You're not doing so bad after all."

Bash gives her a smirk, playfully rolling his eyes. "What about you?"

"Purple. Lilac in particular," she replies, sipping her drink and turning her body on her seat to view him better. "My favourite flowers are lilacs too."

"Useful to know."

"Exactly," Kenna says, studying him. "How can one person's eyes be so green?"

"Genetics, Kenna," Bash tells her, chuckling. "Like them?"

"If I'm stuck looking at them for eternity, I'm going to have to," Kenna says lightly.

"There we go," her mother says quietly.

Kenna rolls her eyes. "I don't know about you," she starts, downing her drink and turning back to Bash. "But I didn't want this."

"You and me both," Bash mumbles, clinking his glass with her empty one.

"Don't you French say, 'c'est la vie'?"

Bash nods, smiling a little. "Yes. Should we toast to that?"

Kenna grins and holds up a finger, her other hand searching for something. He peeks under the table and spots a flask and she holding her finger to her mouth cheekily. Discreetly, he finishes his drink and brings the empty glass to his lap where she fills it up with something.

"Don't ask, this never happened," she tells him quietly before they both inconspicuously bring their glasses back onto the table. "C'est la vie."

"C'est la vie," Bash repeats, clinking his drink with hers and taking a sip. "That's... strong."

"Is it too strong for you?" She asks coyly.

"No. I'm wondering how you're knocking that back," he tells her. "Do you drink rum straight?"

She nods. "Yeah," she simply says. "I'm not an alcoholic, don't worry." She laughs softly. "I just like my drinks stronger than the average person. No mixers, just straight."

"Hangovers?"

"None at all," she says honestly. "Headaches, mood swings but no throwing up or feeling shitty overall. I can hold my drinks down better than most girls."

Bash smiles a little. "I think we're going to be just fine."

...

"Where are we going?"

Bash looks up from his phone and turns to Kenna. "You will see when we get there."

Kenna nods and looks out the window. "Are you going to kill me?" She asks curiously.

Bash is baffled and he looks back at her. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, we both don't want to get married so the only explanation would be to kill me off-"

"I'm not going to kill you," Bash says, alarmed.

She starts laughing, turning to him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I know. You're too easy."

"Do you make it a habit to give people heart failure?" Bash asks her, returning his gaze to his phone.

"I don't know," Kenna replies. "My humour is an acquired taste, Sebastian."

"Just 'Bash'."

"I don't think I know you well enough to call you that," Kenna says softly, looking at her hands on her lap. "Don't you guys have to be formal for everything anyway? Being the richest family in France?"

Bash shrugs a little. "We have an image, yes," he starts. "I wouldn't say that I have to uphold that per se."

"No?"

Bash tuts, shaking his head. "Nevermind. We're almost there."

They sit in silence and Kenna stares out the window, seeing the familiar sights of the Eiffel Tower and Seine pass by. She thinks about what it would be like to be married to Bash.

She turns to him, he's still on his phone. She watches as his chest rises and falls as a steady rhythm, his hair is neatly styled and the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving him the formal, attractive look.

Kenna won't lie, she thinks he's gorgeous and the way he smirks sends tingles down her body but this is an arranged marriage. They'll sign off a bunch of agreements and live separate lives but married.

Kenna purses her lips. She's sure he's got a secret girlfriend somewhere. Perhaps, someone that his family won't approve of. Would they even be allowed to have secret partners?

Her eyes land on the St. Christopher around his neck that lies on his exposed chest. The patron saint of bachelorism.

"Are you religious?"

Bash pauses, touching his necklace. "I was raised Catholic."

"But?"

"My mother's Wiccan."

"Wiccan?" Kenna repeats. "Wiccan? I always thought-"

"They existed on TV?" Bash finishes for her. "How insulting."

Kenna falters. "No-"

"I'm kidding," he quickly says. "But you will be insulting my mother. She's against all of this - arranged marriages amongst others. My father deemed her unfit to raise me when I was nine and his lovely wife shoved Catholicism down my throat. After all of my parents' efforts, I just may be an Atheist."

"I'm Catholic, I can't marry an Atheist!" Kenna cries out before she clamps her mouth shut.

Bash laughs softly. "I'm not, don't worry. More Roman Catholic than Wiccan or Atheist. Although that may be a reason to call the whole thing off if I say that I'm an Atheist. It would be too easy and well, I've performed a lot of Catholic rituals like the Holy Communion and being christened. I got 'reborn' when I was eighteen. You're good."

"Why do you say reborn like that?" Kenna asks him with a slight frown.

Bash sighs. "It wasn't optional. My mother had taken me to a Wiccan festival and my father freaked out. Said it was the devil's work." He swallows hard. "I don't want to get into it. I hope my religious identity doesn't throw you off. I was confused a lot as a child and well, in a way, I do believe there's something up there. I just have to... find it myself."

Kenna nods slowly. "I don't mean to be judgmental. I've been told I am - I was just surprised. I'm so sorry for prying."

"Not at all."

"Let's just forget about this conversation."

"I'd like that." He notices that they've stopped. "We're here."

"Oh, good," Kenna breathes out, smiling as a blush settles on her cheeks.

...

Kenna tries not to trip on her heels as she is blindly led to wherever Bash has taken her. His hands are over her eyes, warm and calloused, and she grips onto her clutch tightly, allowing herself to be manoeuvred around the place.

"We're here," he says into her ear, making her shiver.

He removes his hands and Kenna opens her eyes, gasping at the sight before her.

"Where are we?" She asks, smiling breathlessly at the sight before her.

"Where do you think we are?" Bash retorts lightly, gesturing to the painting in front of them. "I've heard that you adore art."

Kenna blushes and smiles at him. "The Louvre?"

"As I said, everything is open with the right price," Bash says, leading her to a table she didn't even notice was present.

A waiter comes and pours two full glasses of wine before disappearing. Kenna takes note of the bottle of wine placed into the ice bucket - Royaume '67.

Kenna turns back to the painting. "The Mona Lisa."

"It's my favourite. Clichéd, I know," Bash tells her softly, studying the art. "As a kid, I'd stand here for hours on end, admiring the art. Until my stepmother would drag me away."

"It's peaceful," Kenna whispers, tears springing to her eyes. "So beautiful. How could a piece be so tragically beautiful? It's only a portrait, I know the story behind it but..."

"It's surreal?"

She nods. "To ever think that artists such as Leonardo da Vinci lived and breathed. I'd love to visit Italy one day. I've barely stepped out of Scotland. I've only been to Japan for university and that's the only time I've left Scotland."

"Don't get out much?" He asks, surprised. He's travelled the whole world for times over.

"No," Kenna admits. "No reason, just a phobia of travelling and dying. I mean, being kidnapped away from home is-"

"Are you a paranoid person?"

Kenna pauses. "A little. Within reason." She sips her wine. "Anyway, are we just going to sit here and admire the art?"

Bash nods, turning to the Mona Lisa and taking a long sip from his glass. "I call it 'quiet nights'. Glass of wine from '67 and admiring art in peace."

Kenna smiles a little. "I think I can get used to this," she says.

...

When she returns to her hotel suite, she kicks her heels off and lifts them, dangling them on her fingers as she enters her hotel bedroom. Turning on the light, she's surprised by the heaps of lilacs and a note on her bed.

She lifts the note and smiles, blushing.

"'Violet lilacs mean spirituality'," she reads. "'Colour lilac means first love'."

"Who are those from?"

She turns and spots her mother leaning against the doorjamb. She scoffs lightly and slips the note into her purse as she drops her heels onto the ground. She turns to face her mother fully.

"No one," she tells her. She then takes a seat on the bed. "Do I really have to marry Bash?"

Joanna frowns. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing, it's just... Mary knew Francis before they got married so it was easier for them to fall in love," Kenna explains. "With Bash... He's a closed book. Will we be expected to have kids?"

"If you really want to avoid sex," her mother begins. "There's always adoption. You will talk more about that together with the lawyers at the meeting tomorrow."

Kenna bites her lip and stands, getting ready for bed. "At least he has money, right?"

"Kenna, a successful marriage includes patience, trust, respect and partnership. You work together, not against each other. In time, you'll be more than the trophy wives Henry Valois sees you and Mary as. You both will help your husbands and make names for yourselves," Joanna says. "Sweet dreams. The final plans for the wedding are in the morning before the meeting."

Kenna gives her mother a warm smile and watches her leave. The note that she retrieves from her purse makes her all tingly inside.

At least he's trying.

...

"...Madamoiselle will have to take on Monsieur's last name after the wedding," Bash's lawyer, Stéphane Narcisse says. "Oui?"

Kenna shares a look of surprise with her lawyer who nods in approval. "Really?" She asks quietly. "Not even hyphenation?"

"You are marrying into the richer family," Moncrief tells her gently.

"Very well," Kenna mutters, not meeting Bash's eyes as her gaze lowers to her folded hands on the table. "Continue."

Narcisse nods and glances down at the contract. "Madamoiselle will live with Monsieur at the Paris residence."

"Sure," Kenna says dismissively.

"Madamoiselle will attend all family gatherings and events with Monsieur," Narcisse states, raising an eyebrow at Kenna to see if she would object.

"Can we negotiate on that one?" Kenna asks, turning to Bash. "I am sure your family are lovely, I grew up with one but your family are known for Sunday dinners after church together. I feel like that's something we could sometimes keep between us? Church and dinners, I mean."

Bash gives his lawyer a nod. "I am sure we can attend fifteen Sunday dinners a year."

Narcisse amends the contract. "Very well. Would Madamoiselle want to set how many events and gatherings she'd like to attend?"

"Hmm," Kenna hums. "Only three birthdays of choice. Sebastian's, Henry's and we can have the third birthday on rotation. As for gatherings, I put a limit on five annually."

"Seems reasonable," Bash replies. "Are we nearly done here?"

"Let's talk about money," Narcisse says, making Kenna sit up straighter. "Madamoiselle will be given an allowance, controlled by the Valoises-"

"Hold up," Kenna says, raising a hand. "An allowance? I am not a child. I have my own money-"

"You will have to sign a prenup-"

"Fair enough, but an allowance?"

"Any wealth you acquire under the Valois name or associated - de Poitiers or Angouleme, will belong to the Valois-Angouleme family," Narcisse finishes, a frustrated look in his eyes at being cut off. "Any money you spend will come out of your joint account with Monsieur. He must accept all purchases to check if the money is being spent reasonably."

Kenna frowns, shaking her head a little. "I'm sorry, are you insinuating that I have no control over the money I will hypothetically bring in and the one Sebastian and I technically share?"

Narcisse drags a hand down his face before receiving a look from his client. He plants a fake smile on and sits forward, hands clasped as if he's talking down to a child.

"Royaume is a company worth over one-hundred billion dollars. The Valois-Angouleme family were worth over two million dollars prior to the company's formation one-hundred and fifty years ago and have worked hard to make their legacy what it is today," he tells Kenna. "If they wish to remain the wealthiest family in France, perhaps the world, they need to be smart with the money that leaves their banks. Don't worry, you'll have enough to change your wardrobe seasonally."

Kenna scowls and she whispers something into her lawyer's ear before he shakily nods. "If you wish to speak to me, you will have to directly speak to my lawyer. Your tone doesn't sit well with me."

Bash then whispers something into Narcisse's ear and the lawyer rolls his eyes before nodding. "Excuse him, he didn't have his coffee this morning."

Kenna smiles a little and turns to Bash. "What have you got to say about the whole allowance thing?"

"We'll just have the prenup stating that what is yours is yours and what is mine, is mine," Bash tells her, crossing out the whole paragraph. "Anything you make with my name is yours."

"Sebastian-" Narcisse tries.

"And should I die before we divorce, everything I own, including shares down to my socks, is yours."

His green eyes meet Kenna's chocolate brown's and she stares at him in shock. He gives her a polite smile, writing a few things down blindly before sliding the piece of paper to Narcisse to read over.

Bash then clears his throat. "But the joint account stays."

"Fine," Kenna says. "Only if you don't peek when it's your birthday."

He chuckles. "You're going to have to get creative. My accountant studies my accounts religiously."

"We'll have to see," Kenna replies coyly. "And this marriage will last for...?"

"Fifteen years," Narcisse grumbles out.

"Okay," Kenna says, standing up.

"Children," Bash says, gesturing for her to take a seat again.

Kenna's stomach does flips and she sits down quickly, surprised at her own actions. She and her mother spoke about children and sex and she's nervous. He's not that bad looking, he's handsome and she's sure if they did have children, she'd want them to have his pretty eyes.

Kenna shakes her head a little. Why is she even thinking about having children with a stranger, even if he's her husband as of next week?

"Children?" She asks.

"It is a strong suggestion that we should have at least one child," Bash says gently. "What are your thoughts on children?"

"Adoption," she says so quickly, his eyes widen. "Can be an option. But if we really must go the biological way, I'm sure my parents told yours that I'm fertile so..."

She reddens and lets out a little cough, taking a sip from the water in front of her. She sees Bash smile, hiding it behind his hand but she knows it's there, she's the queen of hiding things.

"Fertile as in, we wouldn't need IVF," she continues, thinking she might as well dig herself deeper. "But we could do IVF if you don't..."

"I'm sure we can work something out then," Bash says, humour laced in his words. "Now we're in agreement that we'll have a child within the fifteen years we'll be married for?"

"Yes," she says, staring at him head-on. "I'm sure my lawyer can speak on my behalf if there are any more things left to bring up. I really must get to an appointment."

Kenna quickly leaves the room and fans herself. She feels like she's on fire. She feels like his gaze was on her for longer than necessary and he was teasing her. At least he's on her side.

She lets out a groan as the lift doors open and she hurries into it as the doors close. She can't wait to get out of here.