Chapter 52
Although she resisted this reality, Mary had to admit that Charles IX, who had grown into a young man, did indeed have some romantic feelings for her.
Mary never expected this to happen.
Her impression of Charles IX was still from five years ago, or even earlier, as a skinny little boy who was timid, dared not contradict his mother, and dared not ride a tall horse to hunt. He was not treated like an adult at all.
Unexpectedly, in the blink of an eye, the little boy from back then has already entered puberty.
...
As promised in the letter, in order to welcome the Queen of Scots, the King of France ordered a grand jousting tournament and, in the gardens of the Louvre, summoned a large number of musicians and poets for an open-air art exhibition, all to please Mary.
On the dusty racetrack, knights rode their steeds, wielding three-meter-long lances and shields, charging towards their enemies. In the brief exchange of blows, they adjusted their angles and, at the perfect moment, unhorsed their foes, fully displaying their valiant skills to impress the king and nobles in the stands.
Around them, musicians in brightly colored costumes played small drums and other instruments, praising the knights' courage and noble character, filling the entire arena with a lively and joyful atmosphere.
On the highest platform, the palace servants lavishly constructed a shaded canopy using brocade woven with gold thread. The king and his guests were seated here, enjoying the best view without their clothes getting dirty from the dust kicked up by the horses' hooves.
To avoid chatting with the King of France and to avoid seeing Queen Catherine's dark expression, Mary pretended to be engrossed and walked to the railing to admire the skillful movements of the outstanding knights, and then had gifts bestowed upon some of the best knights.
Halfway through the competition, Charles IX left his royal throne and came over, saying eagerly in a low voice, "I knew you would enjoy the tournament of jousting. Everything is just as wonderful as it used to be, isn't it, Mary?"
Mary turned her head, patted Charles IX's head, and said nostalgically, "Yes, everything is the same as before, Your Majesty. If you could call me Sister Mary like you used to, I would be even happier."
“We should call each other by our first names, Mary. I’m not a child anymore,” Charles IX said with a smile.
He pulled down the slender hand that the Queen of Scots was stroking from above his head, then placed it to his lips and kissed it deeply, letting the warmth spread through him.
Throughout the entire process, Charles IX kept his dark eyes fixed on the Queen of Scots, his gaze filled with aggression.
The decadent atmosphere of the French court is indeed very easy to corrupt children. Charles IX is only fifteen years old this year, how come he is so familiar with flirting techniques... Marie had such thoughts in her mind and wanted to ask Charles IX, "How can you do this to your brother when you flirt with your sister-in-law?"
After much hesitation, Mary swallowed her words and said with a smile, "In my heart, you will always be a child, my dear little brother Charlie. I witnessed Queen Mother Catherine's pregnancy and your birth. When you were an infant, François and I took turns holding you... These memories are the most beautiful times of my life, and I hope that no one will destroy those sealed memories."
Charles IX looked displeased after being rejected.
Just as the young French king was about to say something, a burst of loud cheers suddenly erupted in the arena, interrupting him.
The champion of this martial arts competition has been selected.
The champion knight, draped in a crimson cloak and chainmail, raised his longsword high amidst cheers from the spectators in the stands on either side, rode his horse around the track once, and then ascended the stands to receive the king's reward.
Charles IX took a wreath of fresh laurel leaves from a servant and presented it to the champion. This plant has been a symbol of victory since ancient Greece.
“Alright, young knight, remove your helmet, put on your glory, and let us all see your true face,” said Charles IX.
"As you command, Your Majesty," said the knight who had won the championship, his voice muffled through the iron plates.
Mary, who was standing next to him, felt that the voice was very familiar. Just as she was trying to remember, she saw the champion knight take off his helmet, revealing a handsome face.
—It was Albert.
He bent down, and the King of France personally placed a wreath of emerald green laurel leaves on his head, and then accepted a bouquet of irises and lilies tied with ribbons.
The blue-purple irises and pure white lilies intertwined, held in the knight's arms, their intense fragrance seemingly possessing a magical allure, captivating the gaze of all the noble ladies.
This is also a tradition where the victorious knight can present this bouquet to a lady he admires, signifying that he shares his glory with her.
Having completed his duties as the host of the martial arts tournament, Charles IX patted Albert on the shoulder and said generously, "Go and give flowers to the ladies present. Handsome young man, this is the first time I've ever seen someone as good-looking as you. Whichever lady you give flowers to, you'll have a wonderful encounter tonight..."
Albert smiled slightly and said to the King of France, "I have no such extravagant desires; I only ask that she look at me once more."
After he finished speaking, he turned around and knelt down on one knee again, and in front of Charles IX, he raised his hand and handed the bouquet of flowers to the Queen of Scots.
“…I have no lady I desire, Your Majesty, so I only ask that you, as the mistress of the house, share in my small glory,” Albert said.
Charles IX's face turned pale.
The nobles in the stands all stood up.
The Queen of Scots knew without looking up that all their attention was focused on this place.
Staring at the pure white petals so close to her face, Mary suddenly felt an urge to throw the bouquet at the blond youth's face!
It would be best if he got smashed on the head and bled profusely!
"bump--!"
Under the shade of the brocade canopy, Queen Catherine the Queen Mother raised her hand and smashed a bone china cup on the ground, her anger and disgust barely concealed.
She could no longer bear to watch the Queen of Scots flaunt her charms and seduce the King of France. She led a large group of maids away from the tournament, expressionless, and walked past the crowd towards the outside!
...
“I finally understand. That woman, she’s a harbinger of disaster! Whenever she gets close to me, something bad happens, causing me endless trouble, while she laughs wildly…” Queen Catherine the Queen Mother strode through the Louvre’s corridors and asked, “…Any news from London?”
"The Duke of Anjou and Her Majesty Elizabeth are very close," the British envoy said respectfully.
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