Chapter 51
The St. Bartholomew's Massacre stands out as one of the darkest chapters in the entire Dark Ages.
In this massacre, which was originally supposed to happen seven years later, tens of thousands of Parisian Catholics, with the tacit approval or even assistance of the police and soldiers, stormed in according to the white cross symbol previously drawn in front of the Huguenots' gates and began to indiscriminately kill all Huguenots, regardless of age or gender. In just one night, the discarded corpses piled up all over the Seine River, to the point that for several years no one in Paris dared to eat fish.
The entire population of Paris knows what those plump and large fish eat to grow so big.
The storm of religious differences then quickly swept through other towns in France, leading Catholics there to indiscriminately kill Huguenots, believing it to be a righteous act.
Faced with such a disaster, the Huguenots were not to be outdone. They occupied the southern and western regions of France and formed a republic, which led to a religious war that lasted for 26 years, only gradually subsiding after the Edict of Nantes was issued.
It is said that a total of 100,000 people died in this massacre.
The witch trials, which lasted for three hundred years, were cruel enough; the number of witches burned at the stake was comparable to this massacre.
When this massacre occurred in her previous life, she was already imprisoned by Elizabeth and could only pass the time by occasionally riding out on horseback and sitting in the house embroidering handkerchiefs. It was the Earl of Schrusbury, the jailer who was guarding her, who brought her this chilling news.
Pope Gregory XIII was overjoyed by the massacre of Protestants, ordering priests to ring the bells of all the churches in Rome to celebrate the miracle, minting new coins to commemorate the good deed, and requiring all poets, musicians, and artists staying in Rome to write sonnets, hymns, and frescoes to celebrate the massacre... But even Mary, who was also a Catholic, could not agree with the Pope's actions at that time.
This merciless massacre was outrageous.
...
No matter how turbulent her emotions were, Mary did not let them show on her face, nor did she try to persuade Duke Guise to stop seeking revenge.
Duke Guise wouldn't listen; he had already made a blood feud with Admiral Collini and the entire Huguenot sect, leaving no room for negotiation.
Therefore... we can only try to divert Duke Giss's attention for now.
Thinking this, Mary slowly said, "These Protestants are certainly despicable, but eliminating them requires waiting for a better opportunity. Uncle, I came to France this time hoping to gain your support on a bigger issue."
“I knew you wouldn’t come to France for no reason. So, what’s the matter?” Duke Guise said heartily.
“I need the armies of the Duchy of Lorraine and even France to help me fight a war and support me in becoming the new Queen of England,” Mary said calmly.
Duke Guise, who had been enjoying his wine, choked on it upon hearing this. He coughed for a while before recovering. He sat up straight and stared in astonishment at his niece, whom he hadn't seen for years. After a long while, he realized from her calm face that Mary wasn't joking.
“That’s impossible! Your idea is too far-fetched!” Duke Giss said.
He almost suspected that the Queen of Scots had been bewitched by the devil.
“Of course, it’s impossible with just the army of the Duchy of Lorraine. But what if my bargaining chips in this war include the Irish rebellion, the Scottish army, the indifferent attitude of Spain, and the Pope’s excommunication of Elizabeth?” Mary countered.
The Duke of Guise stared at the Queen of Scotland in disbelief, and it took him a long time to calm down.
"...How many of these things have you accomplished?" Duke Giss asked.
“I have already accomplished the first three things, and the latter two are the very reasons I came to France,” Marie said.
"Can you do it?" Duke Giss questioned.
Mary chuckled softly and said, "You should believe that I can do it."
“I remember when I was discussing marriage with the Crown Prince of Spain, you wrote to rebuke my husband for choosing too hastily and told me to break off the engagement to avoid war with England. But as it turns out, my persistence won me the first right of succession to England.”
Duke Guise no longer had the interest in appreciating fine wines.
He rose from his chair and slowly circled the warm room filled with the glow of the burning fireplace. When he looked at Mary again, his eyes no longer held the affectionate warmth one would show to a junior, but rather the cold assessment unique to a politician. His brown eyes coldly speculated on the potential gains and losses in this deal.
Mary sat leisurely in the chair, her arms crossed, letting the Duke of Guise look her over, seemingly without the slightest tension.
“I still think it’s too risky… Elizabeth I is thirty-two years old this year, and her fertility is no longer as good as that of a young girl. If we can just delay for a few more years, and wait until she completely loses the ability to be a mother, the British throne will naturally be yours and your children’s, and there will be no need to fight a war for it,” said the Duke of Guise.
"That's because you don't know how long Elizabeth lived," Mary thought to herself.
Although she was nine years younger than Elizabeth I, she was beheaded at the age of forty-five, while Elizabeth lived to be seventy and did not die until the 17th century, a longevity that ranks among the highest in British history.
“Although I have the first right of succession, the Queen of England will not let me go and wait for me to inherit her throne. Who would turn a blind eye to a threat that is so close at hand?…” Mary politely curtsied to the Duke of Guise to say goodbye, “…Uncle, I do not expect you to make a decision in a short time. After I return from Rome with the Pope’s friendship and promises, you may tell me your decision then.”
The Queen of Scots, with her light and graceful figure, moved like a butterfly past the Duke of Guise, leaving behind the warm and inviting drawing room, leaving the valiant French nobleman sleepless all night.
...
The day before visiting the Louvre as a guest to meet familiar faces like Queen Catherine the Queen Mother, Mary carefully selected her dress and jewelry.
She always had to maintain a strange sense of self-respect in inexplicable places, and would never face acquaintances who would mock her in a disheveled state. Even when she was dying in her previous life, she would carefully choose the color of her clothes the day before she went to the guillotine so that they wouldn't be splattered with blood too badly.
The same goes for this time.
Since she was going to see Queen Catherine the Queen Mother again, Mary had to make herself appear elegant, noble, and radiant, as if she had lived a very fulfilling life these past few years.
As Mary carefully selected a light blue dress and diamond earrings in front of the crystal-clear mirror, and had Seton help her change, she had no idea how much she would regret her decision the next day.
...
The next day, after a long and arduous journey, the Queen of Scotland's entourage finally arrived at the Louvre.
The current King Charles IX of France, his mother Catherine the Queen Mother, the King's three sisters—Princess Elizabeth, Princess Claude, and Princess Margaret—and the King's brother Prince Henry were already waiting at the palace gates.
Under the bright sunlight, Queen Catherine the Queen Mother irritably shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand and said to her children in front of her, "I know you are very happy to have Mary as a guest, and I haven't seen her for a long time either. However, considering the situation in Europe, I still hope that the Queen of Scots can return to Scotland as soon as possible."
“I understand, Mother. You don’t need to be so tireless in lecturing me about everything…” Charles IX said casually. Born as king, yet all the power was in his mother’s hands, which had made him increasingly irritable in recent years.
Charles IX's sentence ended abruptly.
The car door was already open, and the Queen of Scots, with a joyful smile on her face, slowly walked towards them.
The abundant daylight made the Queen of Scots' exquisite and beautiful face crystal clear. The diamonds on her earlobes and neck sparkled, reflecting a shimmering halo that complemented her light blue dress embroidered with silver thread. Like Artemis, she stole the brilliance of the silvery moon.
The Queen of Scots approached the French royal family and then gently curtsied.
“It’s been a long time, my dears,” Mary said with a smile.
From a courtesy standpoint, it was now the French king's turn to speak, welcoming the Queen of Scots to their home.
However, Charles IX remained silent. The king, who had grown into a tall young man, had a flushed face and stared intently at the Queen of Scotland who had come from afar, unable to look away.
"Your Majesty?..." The Duke of Guise coughed, raising his voice, "...Your Majesty, I have obeyed your orders and escorted the Queen of Scotland to the Louvre."
Charles IX was stunned for a moment, then finally came to his senses.
He stepped forward, took Mary's hand and gently kissed it, then looked up and smiled, saying, "Brendan is right, your beauty is as bright and dazzling as the sunshine, illuminating the entire Louvre... It's been a long time, dear Mary."
...
This was not the way to treat a widowed sister-in-law, and Mary's smile froze.
For a moment, she didn't even have the courage to look up at Queen Catherine the Queen Mother's face.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
