by Cynthia Hand
“Oh.” Mary thought for a moment. “So what happens now?”
Her mother tapped her chin with her finger. “I don’t know. You seem to have won over the E∂ian faction here, for now, or at the very least they don’t despise you as they did, so it might be possible for you to split your time between France and Scotland. James and I can manage things, in the meantime, while you’re away.”
Mary turned back to Francis. “What do you think we should do?”
His eyebrows lifted. He seemed bemused but pleased that she was consulting him. “I think we’ll figure it out, together.”
She reached for his hand. Their fingers interlaced. She smiled.
“Yes,” she said. “We’ll figure it out together, from now on.”
FORTY-SEVEN
Ari
A week later, Ari was staring out at the waves of the English Channel, reminiscing on how different this journey was compared to their first. Back then, they’d been posing as peasants. Now, they were going back to France as a royal party. Queen Elizabeth was coming with them—to lend legitimacy to Francis’s claim—which meant her ladies and her guards and her advisers and her favorite cook were coming as well. Plus the entourage that would be traveling with Mary and Francis, which included Ari now, but no longer as a lady, or a squire.
She had a new title. It was the king’s Official Advisor, Grand Potion Master, and Prognosticator of Prognosticators (although that last one was mostly for entertainment).
The only thing that hadn’t changed was that she still dressed in boy clothes. Not only were boy clothes more comfortable than the corseted girl clothes, but they were also logical when it came to running a laboratory. Less flowy fabric meant less chance of something catching fire.
Ari looked farther down the ship, where Francis and Mary were enjoying the view as well. At least, they were enjoying the view of each other, without much of a care for anyone or anything around them. Ari was happy to see it. Something had changed in both of them. Even though not much time had passed since their wedding, they had grown, Ari thought. There was nothing like separation and rumors of death to make a person appreciate another person.
“A livre for your thoughts?” Ari hadn’t realized that Liv had joined her.
She smiled because Liv’s face always made her smile.
“I was just thinking about what life in France is going to look like now. Francis and Mary are together again. Queen Elizabeth is here as an ally. And a month ago I was living in a hovel with a frog.”
Liv laughed and then took Ari’s hand in hers. “And Mary has decided not to marry me off to some nobleman. Ever.”
“Oh dear,” said Ari. “She’s not exactly fulfilling her queenly duty then, is she?”
“No. But I forgive her. And what about your own future?”
“Well, as the king’s trusted adviser,” Ari said, summoning up her most grandiose voice, “I can definitively state . . . I don’t know.”
“What about a vision?” Liv asked.
Ari snorted. “I think I’m going to take things as they come.”
They both were silent for a moment as they looked out over the water. The ocean breeze was salty and fresh. Sailors bustled about, readying the planks and adjusting the sails. The first signs of land could now be seen just off the bow.
Liv cleared her throat. “Will you take the official adviser’s quarters? Or will you stay near the laboratory?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about it. As much as I complain about our time in the hovel, there was something very freeing being there. Finding my own herbs. Building my laboratory from the ground up.”
“But that hovel was in Calais,” Liv said, her voice worried.
“I know. I’m not talking about that particular hovel. I’m talking about a cottage that is within the palace grounds. I’d be easily available, and yet still on my own.”
“Oh,” Liv said. “Oh, good.” She squeezed Ari’s hand.
“You know, the cottage is rather large. I mean, it’s definitely bigger than any of my previous residences.”
“Well, you’ll need room for your father, of course. Once we rescue him. And we will rescue him.”
Ari felt a stab of worry. She nodded determinedly. “We will rescue him. But then he’ll probably want go somewhere solitary to work on his book in peace. So I’ll have the cottage to myself, which seems excessive, since it’s so big. I should probably get a roommate.”
The corner of Liv’s mouth quirked up. “I think I might be able to find you one.”
Ari’s heart did a backflip. She hoped Liv wasn’t talking about Greer.
“I’m not talking about Greer.”
This was going better than Ari had hoped. She pulled Liv closer until their foreheads touched. “I missed your face.”
Then the two of them turned their attention back to the water and the approaching land with a little more clarity as to what their new lives would look like. From where Ari was standing, it looked like happily ever after.
FORTY-EIGHT
Francis
But there was one last thing to do before happily ever after could officially begin for Mary and Francis.
They finished crossing the English Channel and made their way from Calais to Paris. Francis had not sent word of his arrival—as far as he knew, no one in France was aware he was alive (aside from Catherine, who believed he was in Calais living as a frog)—but Mary and Elizabeth, as queens, had standards and expectations. The escort sent to, ah, escort the royal party to the capital was as grand and lavish as any vision of King Henry’s. At the palace, the group was welcomed with trumpets and wine and a literal red carpet.
Charles IX—or more likely Catherine—knew the value of a good show.
Finally, the doors to the throne room were opened wide to greet the foreign royalty, and the queens stepped through to meet the audience of admiring courtiers.
No one noticed Francis as he, Ari, and Liv followed behind Mary and Elizabeth, not at first. He was dressed well, but people were used to overlooking him. For now.
On the throne, Charles IX sat with an annoyed look on his face, like he understood that being a boy king with a regent left him with little power. Catherine sat next to him, on a lesser throne, but no one would doubt that she guided the kingdom.
“Welcome,” Catherine said, rising to look at the sister queens straight on. “Please, come forward. I’m sure there’s much for us to discuss.”
“Much,” Mary said. “I cannot wait to tell you everything that has happened since I left for Scotland. But first—”
Mary and Elizabeth stepped aside.
“You’ve got this,” Ari whispered encouragingly.
Francis moved forward. He took a deep, fortifying breath. He was here, back in his palace, in his throne room. Whether he liked it or not, he’d been born to be king. This was his moment.
“Hello, Mother,” Francis said. Murmurs rippled through the crowded throne room as people finally noted who he was. He didn’t look much different than he had a few months ago, but he did hold himself more like royalty than he ever had before. It was amazing the things that posture could convey.
“My son,” Catherine began, but Francis didn’t let her finish.
“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.” Francis strode toward the thrones. “I’ve come for my crown.”
“You can’t!” shouted Charles IX. “I’m king now.”
“No.” Francis didn’t raise his voice, but still, it projected across the throne room so that everyone heard. “I was poisoned. Spirited away in the night. Kept against my will. But now, I return to France with my wife, Mary, Queen of Scots, and my dear friend, Queen Elizabeth Tudor of England, both of whom support my claim to the French throne. I will have my crown back. Know that if you plan to make me fight for it, I am prepared for that battle. But I hope it will not come to that. We are, after all, family.”
“But—” Charles IX started, but then Mary and Elizabeth stepped forward
, one on either side of Francis, and their soldiers stepped forward behind them. Ari, too, came forward, and Francis heard the slosh of a potion, but he didn’t turn around to see what she held.
“All right,” Charles IX said. “You can be king now.”
“I’m so glad you’ve returned to us,” Catherine said, gliding forward, her arms outstretched. “I thought you dead. Your ear looked really bad.”
When she reached Francis and hugged him, he did not return her embrace. “I am glad to see you, Mother,” he said softly, “but I haven’t forgiven you for what you did to me. While I won’t have you arrested, you won’t be my regent. You will not rule France through me. I don’t care how many mousetraps you threaten us with.”
“Who knows,” said Ari softly, coming forward with her potion in hand. “You might find your inner E∂ian, too.”
Catherine stepped back, uncertainty on her face for just an instant before it was smoothed away beneath the mask of haughty competence she always wore. “What I did, I did for France, my son. Because you were not prepared to be king.”
“I’m prepared now,” Francis said. “You may go to the Château de Chenonceau. I know that you seized it after expelling Diane from court.”
Catherine lifted a hand to cover her mouth. “You would send me away? My son?”
“You are not good for France, nor are you good for me. So yes. I would send you away, rather than any of the other possibilities. And I hope you will repent of your wickedness.”
We, as your narrators, think this is highly unlikely.
“Fine,” she said. “I will go. And you take your crown. But if you ever need me—”
“Goodbye, Mother.” He said it as kindly as possible.
She swept away, flanked by guards. Ari darted off to find her father and returned shortly, smiling in relief.
“Nostradamus is safe. I told him you had returned, and he said, ‘I told you so.’” She grinned. “He predicts that you will have a long and prosperous reign.”
Francis recovered his crown from his younger brother. He didn’t wait for anyone to put it on him. Francis crowned himself, took his throne, and held court for the rest of the day. He was king, wasn’t he? And he had a job to do.
Later, after court was finished and a feast (which one might describe as grand, but certainly not lavish or extravagant) had been held, Francis and Mary walked toward their rooms. Alone.
“Now is it time?” Mary asked.
Francis raised an eyebrow. “To jump on the bed?”
“For our happily ever after.” Mary laughed, but then tapped her forefinger to her chin and looked thoughtful. “Although I suppose that could involve jumping on the bed as well.”
Francis took her hand and kissed it. “Anything you want, my love.”
And now, dear readers, it’s probably time to give those two some privacy. For reasons, you know. (We know.)
Acknowledgments
We had so much fun coming back to the E∂ian world to write this book. And, as usual, we have a lot of people to thank for getting us this far:
First off, our wonderful team at HarperTeen, starting with Erica Sussman and Stephanie Stein, our incredible editors, who always find every single one of our jokes hilarious (or at least they act like they do—thank you for that). Our amazing cover designers, Jenna Stempel-Lobell and Alice Wang. And all of the behind-the-scenes people: Alexandra Rakaczki, Louisa Currigan, Sabrina Abballe, Ebony LaDelle, Cindy Hamilton, Jennifer Corcoran, and Anna Bernard.
Secondly: Lauren MacLeod, Katherine Fausset, and Jennifer Laughran, our agents, who continue to play well together. You all get cookies. We’d also like to give a shout-out to Holly Frederick, our film agent, and to Gemma Burgess, for becoming such a great cheerleader of the Janies while working your own Janie magic for the small screen. And Maggie Cahill at Parkes+MacDonald, for believing in our story of ferrets, horses, and assorted shenanigans.
To our families: Jeff, Sarah, and Jill; Dan, Will, Madeleine, Carol, and Jack; and Carter, Beckham, Sam, Joan, and Michael.
And as with My Lady Jane, we’d also like to thank our E∂ian inspirations, our pets: Hush and Hildy; Poesy, Frank, Stella, and Max; and Pidge and Jewels.
And finally: thank you to the army of librarians and booksellers who get our books out into the world, and to our readers, who are, quite simply, the best.
About the Authors
Courtesy of the authors
THE LADY JANIES are made up of New York Times bestselling authors BRODI ASHTON, CYNTHIA HAND, and JODI MEADOWS. They first met in 2012, when their publishers sent them on a book tour together, and they hit it off so well they decided to write My Lady Jane so they could go on book tours together all the time. Between the three of them they’ve written more than twenty published novels, a bunch of novellas, a handful of short stories, and a couple of really bad poems. They’re friends. They’re writers. They’re fixing history by rewriting one sad story at a time. Learn more at www.ladyjanies.com.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Books by the Authors
My Lady Jane
My Plain Jane
My Calamity Jane
My Contrary Mary
My Imaginary Mary
Also by Cynthia Hand
The Afterlife of Holly Chase
The Last Time We Say Goodbye
The How & the Why
With You All the Way
Unearthly
Hallowed
Boundless
Radiant: An Unearthly Novella (available as an ebook only)
Also by Brodi Ashton
Diplomatic Immunity
Everneath
Everbound
Evertrue
Neverfall: An Everneath Novella (available as an ebook only)
Also by Jodi Meadows
Before She Ignites
As She Ascends
When She Reigns
The Orphan Queen
The Mirror King
The Orphan Queen Novellas (available as ebooks only)
The Hidden Prince
The Glowing Knight
The Burning Hand
The Black Knife
Incarnate
Asunder
Infinite
Phoenix Overture: An Incarnate Novella (available as an ebook only)
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Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
MY CONTRARY MARY. Copyright © 2021 by Cynthia Hand, Brodi Ashton, and Jodi Meadows. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Cover photograph © 2021 by Evgeniia Litovchenko / Shutterstock (girl) Eric Isselée / Shutterstock (mouse)
Cover design by Alice Wang
* * *
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020951699
Digital Edition JUNE 2021 ISBN: 978-0-06-293006-4
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-293004-0
* * *
2122232425PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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