My Contrary Mary

by Cynthia Hand

  At first, everywhere they went, the heralds leading the entourage threw gold and silver coins into the crowds. For a few minutes, it seemed heavenly, like riches were falling from the skies. And then the inevitable pandemonium broke out. Commoners pushed and elbowed their neighbors to grab a share of the spoils. So many observers suffered from being trampled and pushed to the ground that eventually even the peasants were begging the heralds to stop throwing money, which was probably a first in history.

  (Again, we’ve done the research, and indeed, this was the first time in history peasants had requested that money not be thrown.)

  Finally the caravan made its triumphant return amid cheers and a showering of even more rose petals. From there the party proceeded to the grand banquet, which was too large for any one hall. In total, it spanned across six great halls, which housed the most important foreign ambassadors, magistrates, dignitaries, and nobility, with the most influential of the guests nearest the main hall, and the next influential a little more distant and so on and so forth.

  The tables in the main dining hall were set up in a giant U shape, with Mary and Francis at the head of the dais. The uncles were seated on Mary’s side, with King Henry, Queen Catherine, and Diane de Poitiers on Francis’s side. The rest of the guests sat along the two legs running perpendicular to the wedding party, with the Marys and Ari in the seats closest to Mary, after her uncles.

  Dancers and ribbon twirlers performed in the middle of the U while servants on the outside kept wine goblets full as they presented course after course of the most exotic and delectable foods Ari had ever seen or tasted.

  “This is so exciting,” Flem said for the millionth time. “The food, the wine, the dancing, the food!”

  “You mentioned the food,” Liv said.

  “Yes, but that’s only because there’s so much of it!” Flem exclaimed, eying a delicious-looking tidbit on someone else’s plate, even though she had a plate of her own.

  The ladies, even Ari, giggled. Ari had never seen the Marys so excited about anything. She wished she could wholeheartedly join in the excitement, but Ari had more important things to worry about.

  Like the stupid potion for the stupid king. Which Queen Catherine wouldn’t give to him her stupid self.

  “I can’t wait to see the mechanical ships,” Liv said.

  “There’s going to be a ship?” Ari asked.

  “Six,” Flem said.

  “Six ships?” Ari repeated. “But we’re in Paris. In a dining room. Indoors.”

  “So?” Liv said.

  “So, I’m no geographer, but there are no bodies of water near us large enough to accommodate a ship.”

  “Not just one ship,” Flem reminded her. “Six.”

  “How does this make any sense?” Ari asked.

  Liv smiled, her eyes doing that twinkle that they did more and more often. “Just you wait, Aristotle de Nostradame. Just you wait.” Under the table, Liv reached for Ari’s hand. She found it and squeezed it. Ari couldn’t believe she would make so bold a move, but she squeezed back, and felt a thrill all the way down to her toes.

  But she still had to figure out how to get the potion into the king’s drink, which would be difficult, considering that everyone was looking at the king and he hadn’t set his goblet down once.

  King Henry stood and raised the cursed goblet. “To Mary and Francis. And to the future of France, and Scotland, and a French empire that will soon reach to the farthest deserts and the tallest mountains and . . . the . . . other land stuff out there.”

  The guests raised their glasses. “To the land stuff!” they repeated right before they glugged.

  “And,” King Henry continued, “to the truly amazing mastermind behind this most celebratory . . . celebratory of occasions. Who happens to be”—he paused dramatically—“myself!”

  “To the king!” Glug.

  “And to this blessed union, which I will have the honor of overseeing tonight, for I would like to witness the creation of the next great heir to the throne!”

  Queen Catherine shot Ari a pointed look, and Ari nodded quickly. She could do this. She had to do this. She would figure this out. Hopefully without getting caught and beheaded. (There was a reason, after all, that Queen Catherine refused to do it herself.)

  The guests raised their glasses again but were not sure which part of the king’s toast to repeat, so it came out as a sort of jumbled mess.

  “And now, it’s time for dancing!” the king exclaimed. “Everyone—dance and make merry with all of these wonderful things that your king has provided. And by king, I mean me!”

  The crowd of guests cheered again. A band of musicians began to play a lively song. The king rose and extended his hand to Diane de Poitiers, who followed him away from the table to where people were lining up to dance.

  Ari’s gaze fell on the king’s jeweled goblet, which he had left at the head of the table.

  “Now’s the opportune time,” she murmured to herself.

  “The opportune time for what?” Liv asked.

  She’d apparently murmured a little too loudly. “For dancing,” Ari said quickly. “We should dance. After all, you spent so much time teaching me how.”

  “Very well,” Liv said merrily. “Let’s dance.”

  Ari turned away for a moment and fished the vial out of her cleavage as she got to her feet. She grabbed Liv’s hand and walked her over to where people were starting to bow and twirl. Ari was grateful that she did know the steps, as, keeping in time with the music, she and Liv danced around the room. With each pass, Ari led them closer and closer to the wedding party’s seats, particularly toward where the king had been sitting.

  Just one more pass and she would be close enough to—

  “What are you doing?” Liv asked, spinning Ari away.

  Ari bit her lip. “What do you mean?”

  “I know you know this dance, but you’re purposely messing it up. Why?”

  “I can’t say,” Ari said awkwardly.

  Liv stopped dancing and crossed her arms, and Ari was equal parts terrified and endeared by her pout.

  She straightened up. “Liv, is there any way you would trust that I am trying to help Francis and Mary? If I don’t succeed, Queen Catherine might just kill me. And if I do succeed, King Henry might kill me.”

  Liv’s brows furrowed. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” she said.

  “Me neither. I just . . .” Ari gulped in a breath. “I just have to put something in the king’s drink. Right now. Nothing that will hurt him,” she added quickly. “Not permanently, that is. I have an antidote.”

  Liv grabbed both of Ari’s hands, and with the sincerest of smiles, she said, “I know what it’s like to be in a difficult position. You don’t have to tell me details. I’ll help you.”

  Ari smiled, and Liv returned her smile, and quickly it became a secret game.

  The dance floor was quite crowded by this point, and it was difficult to navigate, through dance, to the king’s spot. But Ari was determined, and Liv proved to be a dedicated partner, and after many misses, one particular pass led them straight to their destination. In a movement one could only catch if one knew to look for it, Ari emptied the contents of the vial into the king’s goblet.

  She did it in the nick of time, too, because a moment later the king returned to the table. “Bring out the cake!” the king bellowed. “Also, bring me more wine!”

  Ari breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the king take a long drink.

  “Promise me that one day, you’ll tell me what we just did,” Liv said, her face glistening with sweat. She was breathing so hard, her corset was barely holding her chest in.

  “I will,” Ari promised, but she was suddenly preoccupied remembering how it felt to kiss Liv’s lips, to feel her arms around her. And she was wondering when she could do all that again.

  “Let’s go congratulate Mary,” Liv said. She took Ari by the hand and drew her to Francis and Mary’s place at the t
able, where they were feeding each other cake.

  “Your Majesties,” Liv and Ari said in unison, dropping into curtsies. It was the best curtsy Ari had ever done.

  Francis and Mary looked up. Francis smiled. But Mary did not seem particularly pleased to see them.

  “I just wanted to say how honored I am to have been part of your wedding, Your Majesties,” Liv said. “I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

  “Thank you,” said Francis sincerely.

  Queen Mary was silent for a moment. Then she said, “I wish you happiness as well, Lady Livingston.”

  Ari felt Liv stiffen beside her. Even Francis looked surprised at the use of Liv’s formal name, and the coldness of Mary’s tone.

  “And to that end,” Queen Mary continued smoothly. “I am pleased to say that I have found a match for you. I was planning to tell you later, but I suppose now is as good a time as any.”

  Liv’s smile faded. “What?”

  “Now that I am married, it is time for me to think of my ladies and your futures. You have been such a good friend to me all of my life. I would like to return the favor.”

  Liv fell back a step, her mouth opening. “But, Mary—”

  “You mean, Your Majesty,” Mary said.

  Liv’s face filled with color. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” Liv glanced at the other Marys, who were all watching with similar expressions of shock. “But I would wish to remain in service to you, Your Majesty.”

  “I understand. You have always been so loyal and obliging. Which is why I am choosing to secure your future first, out of all my ladies. You do not have to thank me or try to change my mind. It is done.”

  “What do you mean, it is done?”

  Mary gestured to a finely dressed man across the room. He wasn’t particularly unappealing. He had two arms and two legs and two eyes. So what if those words were all Ari could come up with to describe him.

  “That is the Duke of Shetland, from Norway,” Queen Mary said. “He has recently lost his wife. He will see that you are well cared for for the rest of your life. I suggest you pack warmly, because he has regaled me with tales of his homeland, and the stories are mostly about how cold it is.”

  Ari felt her own chill spread through her body. This couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

  “Your Majesty,” Ari said, wondering what in the world she could say to stop this. She closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’m seeing a future in which the Duke of Shetland is not well.”

  “Not well?” repeated Mary.

  “He could die at any time,” Ari said quickly.

  They all swiveled around to inspect the duke again. At the moment, he was dancing. Or at least it was supposed to be dancing. Some would call it bench-pressing one of the ladies in the air, his large arms pumping.

  “The sickness will come on quite suddenly,” Ari stammered. “Without any warning.”

  Mary’s mouth twisted into what was meant to be a smile. “He seems well enough now. And if some tragedy were to befall him, Liv would find herself a rich and titled widow.”

  “But, Your Majesty,” said Ari.

  “This is a gift for my dear friend,” insisted Mary. “She will leave in two days.”

  Liv drew herself up straight. “Queen Mary—”

  Mary held up a hand. “I have appreciated your service. And I hope you will appreciate my gift to you. You are dismissed, the both of you. Enjoy the party. Eat some cake.”

  Liv staggered off as though she’d been run through with a sword. As Ari began to follow, she heard Francis say, “What was that all about? You’re really sending Liv away? But I thought—”

  “It’s a kind way to remove her from my presence,” Mary said.

  A kind way? thought Ari, still too shocked to be properly indignant. She sank into her seat next to Liv.

  “Did she actually just tell us to eat cake?” she sputtered.

  “I’m not hungry,” Liv said.

  Before they could even begin to talk about it, King Henry was standing in front of the hall again.

  Ari hoped there were not going to be more toasts. The Not There potion should be taking effect any moment now.

  “My son Francis,” he said, “and my other sons, Charles and Henry, and the de Guises, and you there, Prince Condé . . . follow me to the grand parlor for an even more exciting part of the evening.”

  The six men of royal blood exited the room behind Henry. After a few moments had passed, Mary stood up and addressed the crowd again.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please join us for a most spectacular journey.”

  Right then, servants rolled out long canvases along the floor. They were painted blue and white, and they resembled waves on the ocean. Other servants opened certain windows, which propped up the waves and made them appear as if they were in motion.

  “The tides are coming our way, and so are the esteemed ships of the Argonauts.” Queen Mary gestured to the doorway, where a large mechanical ship was approaching, swaying this way and that.

  “See?” Flem said over Liv to Ari. “Ships!” Then she frowned. “I hope this doesn’t have anything to do with your vision about the door.” She eyed the door that the ship was moving through.

  The crowd whooped and hollered at the sight. Ari felt seasick. She had no idea how it was moving; perhaps they had used a design of the late Leonardo da Vinci’s? He was always inventing mechanical things that seemed to defy all earthly laws.

  At the helm of this ship was Francis’s youngest brother. He stood at the ship’s wheel, turning it this way and that and occasionally looking out through a telescope.

  “Alas, I do not see my golden fleece in this room. Crew!” Several stewards appeared on deck. “On to the next island!”

  Ari hoped this meant there would be a lull in the entertainment during which she could talk to Liv, but as the ship left, an entire army of court jesters, jugglers, and flamethrowers overtook the dining hall. Ari had to take care to watch, lest her eyebrows be burned off.

  In this way, ship after ship came sailing in, each captain talking about a golden fleece, adding some embellishing to the script, tales of islands they had been to and wars they had fought to get this far. And in between, an endless procession of performers. As the third ship left, a cavalcade of . . . poets swarmed in. This was Ari’s chance. She leaned over to Liv. “You can’t go away.”

  Liv sniffed and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “If that’s what Mary has decided, I must. The final step for a lady-in-waiting is to find a suitable position in marriage. I am lucky.” She sniffed. “Lucky she chose me first.” The tears started to fall from her eyes. “Please excuse me.”

  Ari stood to follow her.

  “No, don’t cause a scene,” Liv protested. “Your place is here with the queen. I will return.”

  “No.” Ari reached for Liv’s hand, but for the first time, Liv didn’t take it. She hurried out of the room.

  The fourth ship came and went. The fifth ship carried Francis at the helm, and although he blew a kiss to his new wife, and she a kiss back, he turned and sailed away as well.

  When the sixth and final ship arrived, King Henry was at the helm. He held up his scope, peered this way and that, and finally landed on Queen Mary. “Ah, there she is. My golden fleece.”

  Ari was disgusted. The king had reduced Queen Mary to nothing more than an object to bring him power.

  “Join me, my daughter-in-law. And together, we will unite France!” Cheers went up. “Scotland!” More cheers. “England!” More cheers. “Ireland!” More cheers. “And eventually all of Europe!”

  This brought the wildest cheers of all.

  But Ari couldn’t bring herself to cheer. She watched numbly as Mary went to the ladder on the side of the boat and began to climb.

  The queen was nearly to the top when a gut-wrenching scream silenced the room. Even the ship stopped tilting.

  The horrible sound was coming from the king.

  “My eyes! My e
yes! I cannot see.”

  Guests looked around, wondering at first if this was part of the show. Ari didn’t have to look. She knew exactly what was going on.

  “My eyes! Catherine! I’ve been blinded!”

  The plea for his wife was the first sign that something was terribly wrong.

  Queen Catherine rose up. “Guards. Guards! Call for a physician at once. The king is ill.”

  “Is there a doctor in the house?” called out Ari, knowing there was no doctor who could help. Guards and servants scrambled in and out of the room. Within a few moments the court physicians arrived, for they were never far away, especially during colossal events, and this was by far the most colossal event the palace had seen in decades.

  They held candles in front of King Henry’s eyes. They covered one eye with a black patch and looked into the other. Then they switched eyes.

  “What is it?” Queen Catherine asked.

  Ari had to commend her for her acting abilities.

  “Your Majesty,” the head physician said. “We cannot see anything that would cause His Majesty to lose his vision.”

  “And yet, I can’t bloody seeeeee!” the king called out in agony.

  “I told you to stop doing that so much,” said Catherine.

  The entire room went quiet.

  Normally Ari would have felt a sense of triumph. Her potion had worked. She should have been glad, proud even. But Mary was taking away Ari’s brightest beacon, and she had done it so callously, without one bit of concern for Liv’s feelings. As if all of Liv’s years of service had earned her nothing except a loveless future in a sunless place.

  It wasn’t right, Ari thought. Liv couldn’t get married. Not now.

  EIGHTEEN

  Francis

  By the time Francis and Mary retired to his rooms, Francis was thoroughly torn between wanting to crash into bed (to sleep) and wanting to stay awake as long as possible so the day might last forever.