Free Mary Queen of Scotland & the Isles by Margaret George Page A

Chateau of St.-Germain-en-Laye, where the French royal children les enfants de France would receive them.
     
    The barge was wide and comfortably appointed with luxurious touches: a fully staffed kitchen, a dining room with goblets and gold plates, beds with gold leaf on the headboards, privy stool-closets hung with crimson velvet and perfumed with fresh irises in a silver vase fastened to the wall.
     
    It was at this point that the Scots children began to feel uncomfortable, being surrounded by a silvery-soft language they could not understand, and realizing that in only a few days they would come, face to face with the French children in the royal nursery. What if they were horrid little things crying, whining brats who cheated at games, tattled, and teased? Until that moment "the French children," "the Dauphin," and "the princesses" had had no real significance to them.
     
    And if the Dauphin and Mary did not like each other, what then? Would the alliance be abandoned, or would they be forced to marry, regardless?
     
    Slowly the royal barge made its way up the Seine and its wide green valley, past Rouen, past Les Andelys, past Vernon, past Meulan, and then finally to the landing stage for St.-Germain-en-Laye. A large pier, its posts painted in gold, red, and blue, flew the royal standard of Valois from its staff.
     
    An attendant hurriedly sent his assistant ahead to the chateau, and arranged for horses to transport the guests, although the distance was not great the chateau lay on the upper banks of the river. Big, sleek beasts with heavy leather saddles were led forward, and the Scots stared at them. They were so rounded and gleaming they did not seem the same animals called "horses" in Scotland.
     
    The gravel led path to the chateau was planted on both sides with tall, slender trees, like a sacred grove in ancient Greece. And then, looming before them, on a ridge above the river, was the grey building of the chateau.
     
    Servants and attendants now appeared to accompany them up the path and into the courtyard. Their horses were taken and they were escorted into the Salle des Fetes, a richly decorated hall on the west side of the courtyard.
     
    Mary looked all around her at the high ceiling and the light colours of the wall decoration: pinks, pale aquas, yellows the shade of meadow wild-flowers. The men and women in the paintings were wearing thin, transparent clothes that allowed her to see through them as if they were naked. She was studying this when suddenly a deep voice announced something in French, and everyone was still.
     
    The farthest door of the hall opened, and out came three children, two girls and a boy. Only two could walk properly; the third swayed back and forth on her baby feet and had to be helped by the others. They came toward the Scots, and instinctively Mary went forward to meet them.
     
    Across the wide floor of the Salle des FStes, the children approached each other, with everyone watching.
     
    So this little boy must be Francois, the Dauphin, thought Mary. He had a fat little face and slanted eyes, and his tight, curvaceous mouth was clamped shut. The pale eyes were wary. He was very small, but pudgy.
     
    Immediately, Mary felt protective of him, as she did of the small wounded animals that she had insisted on nursing back to health at Stirling whenever she had found them lying injured on the heath or limping about in the palace courtyard.
     
    "Bonjour. Bienvenue a St. -Genruun-en-Lrye. Je suis Prince Francois, et ces sont mes soeurs, ke Princesses Elisabeth et Claude." The little boy bowed stiffly.
     
    "Je suis Marie, votre amie et cousine et fiancee," responded Mary, using almost all the French she knew.
     
    Then, to the delight of all the onlookers, the two children smiled at each other, laughed, and joined hands.
     
    It was the first time many of the French courtiers had ever seen Francois smile.
     
    Although the King and Queen were not at St.-Germain at the time, they had