Chapter Text
Kenna had not been at court long when she decided that she did not like the Valois boys. (Well, the Valois boy and the de Poitiers bastard, but to make it easier, she lumped them together in the same category). The Valois man was a wonderfully different story, but the boys were arrogant, snooty, selfish brats. Anyone could see how Francis continued to shift Mary off to the side- clearly his word meant little to him. And the bastard was always giving everyone judgmental side-eyes. Except Mary. Mary he gazed at constantly and adoringly. It was a little creepy honestly. So she had already- before even having a conversation with either boy- decided she did not like them.
What sealed the deal for her though was a conversation not meant for her ears at all. Now, that's not to say that she was eavesdropping. She wasn't. Henry had summoned her late at night and she hadn't bothered to properly clothe herself- clothing certainly was not needed in Henry's bedchamber. When she had heard voices, she'd had no choice but to duck into a nearby alcove. And then, the brothers had refused to leave. She would not have listened if they had moved on. She would have left… maybe… well, it didn't matter because they didn't leave and she heard the whole thing.
“You should lay off her Francis. She's been living in a convent for the past decade.”
That was the admittedly attractive, but grumpy and titleless bastard. Sebastian she thought his name was. His brother, the Dauphin of France (there was a title) responded quite vehemently.
“I know! I'm trying to be patient but it's like she has no comprehension of politics at all. I know she needs this alliance sealed but we can't just blindly tie ourselves to a wounded country. As much as it may strengthen Scotland, it weakens France. And I can't have-”
“Yes I know. Seriously. Please don't say it again. I understand the untenable position she continues to force you into.”
Kenna smirked. As a bastard at court, he’d clearly mastered the #1 skill of speaking to those superior to oneself: veiled sarcasm. Sebastian continued, his voice quieter and already taking on the hopeless adoration that indicated that Mary was going to be discussed. “She’s smart Francis. She’ll get there in her own time. Be patient with her.”
“Honestly Bash, if I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you had feelings for my fiancée.” Francis’ laugh is forced and awkward, literally making Kenna cringe.
“But you do know me better.” Sebastian’s voice is hard and Kenna cringes again.
Well, that was awkward…
They are quiet for so long that she thinks they have left and starts to venture forth, when she hears her own name, sending her scurrying back into the shadows.
“You are aware that the Lady Kenna means to take your mother’s place?” Kenna cringed again. How did the Dauphin even know that?
“Which one is that again?”
“She came with Mary? Always with father? She’s gorgeous.” Kenna blushed in pleasure which immediately turned to outrage at the bastard’s response.
“Ohhh the annoying, bratty one?”
Who was he calling bratty? What an arrogant little-”
“Bash, be nice.” It must be mentioned that Francis did at least attempt to defend her.
“She flipped out on Cherise the other day. Freaked right out because there was a spot in her dress when it came back from the laundry. I’m sorry, but who exactly does she think she is? She’s a lady in Scotland. What exactly does that amount to?”
“She can’t help her privilege-”
“No. You know what? That’s how I was raised. I was taught that privileged people couldn’t help themselves. But you do. And Mary does. All I’m asking for is a little bit of courtesy.”
Kenna was vibrating with rage. She had not “flipped out” on Cherise. She had had a teeny, tiny meltdown near Cherise. And she had not mentioned one word about privilege. Why would he trust this random servant girl?
“Are you still nailing Cherise?”
Well, that made more sense.
“No!! I’m just saying!”
“Either way, you should probably be making the effort to stay in Father’s good graces. You might find yourself suddenly displaced.” Francis sounded genuinely concerned and Kenna felt a pang of remorse- which was immediately quenched by Sebastian’s response.
“Pff.” He laughed and Kenna dug her fingers into her palms to restrain her from launching around the corner and strangling him. “Let her try. Mother has been here for years. The “Lady Kenna” is not the first ambitious girl with an ample bosom who tried to keep father occupied. He needs a little more than a large chest, he prefers a woman who stimulates his brain also.”
Kenna was biting her lip to keep silent and had dug little half moons into her palms when he finally, finally, stopped talking about her and bid Francis good night. She waited, shaking with repressed fury, until she heard Francis’ door close and Bash’s footsteps fade. Then she composed herself before entering Henry’s chambers, putting the bastard and his judgments from her mind.
She never forgot though. And when Greer came to her room, already crying, to inform her that she was to be wedded before God to the titleless bastard, it was the first thing she thought of: that for all her privilege and all her ambition and her “ample bosom”, she would end up in the same position that he occupied. She thinks he must be pleased by that.