Previously on Reign...
I am with child. Our child, at last.
- What's your name? - I'm Henry.
I remember my death. The joust.
The way he held the lance,
aimed at my head.
It was not Montgomery. It was some other man.
Would you dare raise a hand against your own...
Stop!
Opposing Narcisse has become a bad habit,
dangerous even when we're right.
Don't pretend this is about money.
You want power. You want revenge.
- You're bleeding. - I'm losing my child.
We spoke with the shepherd
who was set upon by three cloaked Riders.
He says they offered protection in exchange for his soul.
Maybe Catholics trying to make Protestants reek of the Devil.
- Strip him. - No.
The mark of the Riders.
There is too much fear in this land.
Fear of hunger, fear of disease.
To this we add fear of Catholics, our fellow Christians.
But this is precisely why you are here.
To commune with your God. Not mine.
What's this, then?
Looks like... a church service.
What do you want?
What's a highborn squire like you doing with this Protestant lot?
- No! No! - Leave the boy alone!
What do you want with him?
Ripped By mstoll
I won't ask how much money you lost dicing with Bash last night
because then you'd have to lie.
I forgot what a terrible liar my brother is.
So you already know we weren't playing dice.
What I don't know is what you were doing.
The truth is I was... visiting my son in the nursery.
See, this is why I didn't tell you. It's a sensitive subject.
- Only days... - I'm not a porcelain doll, Francis.
It's true I lost our baby.
And, yes, it hurts.
But we got pregnant once. We can do it again.
I'm glad to hear you say it.
Perhaps you wouldn't be so surprised if you stopped avoiding the subject.
The way you tiptoe around it makes me think you've given up hope.
I have not given up hope.
I love you. And I believe in you.
Believe in us.
Enter.
What's wrong?
Another attack on a Protestant service.
This time in our own backyard.
A village barn used as a makeshift church.
Were there any casualties?
That's still unclear. But they did set fire to the barn.
Go help however you can, find out what happened
and capture whoever led this attack.
I will not tolerate this kind of violence, no matter what prompts it.
When I was a girl, I dreamed of a wedding like this.
It's spectacular. Befitting a spectacular bride.
Truthfully, I would've preferred something simpler.
For your sake or for Leith's?
Marrying Aloysius is enough,
without flaunting all of this in his face.
Is that what Castleroy's doing?
Goodness, no. It's my mother.
Oh, no.
It's all right.
This is Gemma, Aloysius' youngest.
His children are here for the wedding.
And now they're your children.
Yes.
I'll fix this for you.
Oh, what pretty locks you have.
Thank you.
They seem to be very taken with you.
Enough about me.
What about you? How are you feeling?
Well, let's just say your wedding is a welcome distraction.
What have you found?
They burned the barn to the ground. No one was there,
but we located riderless horses nearby.
The fire must have scared the horses away.
So there are people on foot.
Shall the men go after the ones who burned the barn?
I want them brought back to the castle, gently.
You heard him.
I want you to take the rest of these men
and find those Protestant victims.
Assure them they'll be protected.
They're coming from the direction of the barn.
Let me have a talk with them.
If we want their help, best not to have them intimidated
by a group of king's guards.
Lord Castleroy. What are you doing here?
Leith, please. I beg you.
All right, you cannot be here.
There's king's guards searching the woods everywhere. Just go.
These aren't the men we are looking for.
I recognize these people.
The gentleman's a friend of the king.
- You're certain? - Let's keep looking.
Have you lost your minds?
- Please, my lady. - Don't mistake me.
I do not judge your predilections. In fact, I'm rather impressed.
But doing it out here in the open? What were you thinking?
- What was that? - Nothing, my lady.
Give it.
It's a journal.
A chambermaid found it in the laundry months ago.
We would have returned it, but the owner never wrote her name.
We've been passing it amongst ourselves as a distraction.
Well, this is smut.
And reading it clearly led to this.
So as punishment, I'm confiscating it.
Francis.
You're needed in the throne room.
It's about the attack on the Protestants.
Is there any news?
From what I can tell, yes, but I'm not sure what.
Isn't that the nanny you dismissed weeks ago?
Yes.
But now my son is unwell,
and Lola requested her advice on how best to treat him.
Mary, will you go to the throne room in my stead?
Find out what's happening. I'll be there soon.
Caroline, what are you doing here?
I don't know.
- Do you know what this is? - Your Grace, I'm frightened.
It's just some relic the surgeons kept after my father died.
A gruesome practice, frankly.
But I found it in my chambers and then I found you outside my door.
Did you place this on my bed?
I keep waking up places I don't remember going.
More every day.
Caroline, do you remember where the infirmary is?
Go there and rest. I'll look in on you later.
And for your own sake,
don't tell anyone what you've told me.
Who is this poor boy and what happened to him?
Begging your mercy, Majesty.
But this young man was murdered.
- Beaten to death by thugs. - What for?
For holding unpopular beliefs.
Then you are the Protestants who were attacked in the barn?
We are, Majesty. And I am their minister.
Protestant heretics. Throw them out!
These men are guests of the Crown, and they will be respected.
I will have order in this chamber.
It took much courage to be here. And what do you want?
No great favor, Majesty. Only justice.
Catholic thugs dragged this boy from our service and murdered him.
The law says a man who kills must pay with his life.
Justice for heretics? That's absurd!
Silence!
I said I would have respect for these men and I'll have it.
Lord Condé? What is it? Do you know this boy?
This is my sister's son.
Emile. Emile.
They murdered my nephew!
My sister sent Emile to live at my house here
because this part of France was considered more tolerant
than where he was attending school.
I will not tolerate that kind of behavior.
Not here or in any part of France.
The flogging and burning?
Or the practice of Protestantism?
Francis, be careful.
The throne doesn't judge what a man believes in his heart.
We only judge what he does with his hands.
I will not tolerate violence for any reason.
It's against the law.
It is also against the law not to worship as Rome requires.
You're avoiding the question.
Will you rule as your father did, and condemn the Protestants?
- Or will you condone their religion? - Do not ask me to rule on that today.
Protestant rebellions in England and Scotland.
Catholic rulers losing their thrones.
I am in no rush to import that struggle to France.
- Your Grace, it is already here. - Not openly.
Not yet.
My nephew wasn't marked for death by accident.
These thugs chose their victim to send a message.
To you? But you're a Catholic.
I have a brother, the King of Navarre,
who's converted to Protestantism.
My sister is known to be leaning in the same direction.
- Surely you're aware. - I am.
And I've made no secret of my frustrations with Rome's corruption.
If what you say is true, we'll learn of it,
and the guilty will pay as the law requires.
Even if that means death.
There you are.
We're supposed to be trying on dresses for Greer's wedding.
We'll find something before tomorrow.
Kenna, what are you reading?
It's a sex journal written by a lady
who's sampled most of the nobleman to come through court.
And a fair few noblewomen, too.
She's even rated the prowess of her partners.
Really?
- How far does this journal go back? - Two years.
- Is Bash in it? - Not so far.
Definitely not since we've been married. All the entries are dated.
How do you know it's real? She doesn't even mention names.
Because I know the partners.
Not because I've slept with them.
Because there are details about their dress.
Their holdings, their habits, that make it clear.
Except for one who has me stumped and intrigued.
"A lover who towers above the rest."
She says he's an avid hunter,
and has a small butterfly-shaped birthmark on his forearm.
- That rules out Henry and Bash. - It's not Julien, either.
What about Francis?
We have to find out who the mystery lover is.
- Why? - For you.
Ever since Francis publicly claimed your baby,
you've been mooning about,
saying how no man will come near you
because they think you're the king's mistress.
This mysterious and exalted bachelor
could be just the fun romance that you need.
From what I've read,
he cares very little for a woman's station or reputation.
- Only that she's agile. - You're mad.
I can't go chasing after some strange man.
I'm already the subject of relentless gossip.
What do you have to lose?
And besides which, has anyone said anything to your face?
- No. - And they never will.
For fear of offending the king.
So why not take a lover?
Be with him a week, or a year.
It might not lead to marriage, but it could lead to love.
Or at least some fun.
You could use some fun, Lola. Admit it.
I will only admit that I'm curious who this man is.
Well, then let's find him,
and see if he can spark your curiosity for more.
These are the men who attacked the Protestants?
You should know they think their crimes are justified.
What justifies murder?
I'll let their eminent advocates fill you in.
Narcisse.
Who is this?
This stable boy's name is Marc d'Linde.
As he would tell you himself, if he could still speak,
or walk, or move.
And you think Condé's nephew, Emile, did this?
Witnesses say Marc was leaving a Catholic mass
when Emile took a rock and threw it with all his strength.
- You see the results. - That's absurd.
Why would my nephew do such a thing?
I have no idea.
Perhaps Marc insulted Emile in some way.
Does it really matter?
I implore you, Majesty. Release these men.
If you release them, you will be smiling on murder.
Your Catholic subjects implore you, including your Catholic lords.
Who bow before you now.
Begging you.
- Do you recognize this man? - What's this about?
Oh, that.
You may go, Marie.
And please, your hair.
My ladies brought this to me months ago.
I read it in an hour.
We thought one of your flying squad
might know something about the men in there.
The hunter with a butterfly-shaped birthmark?
My money's on Lord Aris.
Why him? How do you know?
You've been sampling the court dishes yourself?
Henry died. I live.
Are you moving on from that poor bastard
of a husband of yours so quickly?
- No. - Then it's you who seeks a lover.
We are merely curious.
I read the book after I made...
the acquaintance of Lord Aris.
And I'd offer to revisit and investigate,
but a few certain someones might get jealous.
Good luck with your search. You'll need it.
Aris likes his women with a bit more spark.
I've been looking for you. I have good news.
Francis refused to bow to Narcisse
and release the murderers of your nephew.
He's also sent Bash to find out
what really happened to that injured stable boy.
I already know more than enough.
I went into the village and asked about this boy,
and no one had heard of him.
Narcisse said this boy was injured outside of a village church,
but he's not from the village or anywhere near here.
I think they combed the countryside and
searched for someone with injuries they could blame on my nephew.
Either that, or they had this in mind all along.
You sincerely believe this was a planned attack against your family?
Dear God. That's...
The brand of the Three Dark Riders.
I assume Francis told you about them?
- He did. - I met them the other night.
Very unpleasant.
I assume you think I'm soulless now, possessed by the Devil?
That's what this mark is supposed to mean.
Of course not.
You and I know that these Riders are nothing but paid brutes.
The same kind who have killed Emile.
Thugs that catch a man strolling at night,
hold him down, then press a burning brand into his skin.
You really believe that Catholic extremists
are responsible for all of this?
Your branding, the murder of your nephew?
- Do you have any proof? - Not yet.
But I think this brand is a sign.
They wanted me to know that whenever they choose,
they can lift up my shirt and demonize me.
So that no matter what they accuse me of,
no one will dare defend me.
- But why? - I don't know what their plan is.
But rage and mistrust is building across France
and maybe that's their intention:
To see France explode.
Catholic scum! You think you can kill us?
The newest attacks were by Protestants?
What provoked them?
- We did. - How?
When we tried to find out if Condé's nephew
threw the rock at that stable boy,
Protestants thought you were investigating the victim
instead of the men who killed him.
Believing their king had no interest in justice,
they took justice into their own hands.
- And the Catholic reprisals? - Being planned as we speak.
- Revenge on revenge. - Enough.
I want those Protestant rioters arrested.
Anyone guilty of violence will be punished,
no matter what their faith.
Be careful, Francis.
Punishing equal crimes equally, it's a lovely idea.
But no one will thank you for it.
Not the Catholics,
who'll wonder why are you hanging men of your own faith.
And not the Protestants,
who will forget all about your just rule
when they gain power and decide they want yours.
Arrest them all. All the rioters.
If you're such good Catholics, tell the truth.
You claim witnesses told you
my nephew threw a rock at a village parish.
That this was the cause of the injured boy's wounds.
Do you know what'll happen when we prove you lied to the Crown?
You're going to hang.
It's what happened. The story's true.
Louis, that's enough.
Lord Condé tells me the injured boy isn't even from the village.
If that's true, then you found the boy hurt already
and made up some story about how he was wounded, or...
Or they crushed the poor stable boy's skull themselves.
- To save their own. - That ain't true.
Shut up, Jerome. They can't prove anything.
Yes, we can.
I've sent for a man from the village Marc actually came from.
When he gets here, we'll know if my nephew threw that rock.
If he didn't...
Confess, and you may yet have mercy, Jerome. Don't lose your head.
Why show them mercy? Let them hang!
If you've not only murdered but lied to your king
to conceal your crimes,
your punishment won't be hanging.
You'll be drawn and quartered alive.
It was Luc's idea.
We found that simpleton over in Val d'Sud.
He got kicked by a horse there last week.
Luc, he said it was righteous for us to use his misfortune.
He said it was God's gift to us, to help us do his holy work.
So you beat my nephew to death for no reason.
We had plenty of reason.
He was the Devil's own servant, a godless Protestant.
It's baking. When will it cool down?
- Where's Mary? - I haven't seen her all day.
That's because your eyes have been glued to that book.
Mary will find us.
She wouldn't miss your last day as an unmarried woman.
Yes, your last hours of freedom
before you become an utterly respectable
and disgustingly wealthy mother of four.
- Kenna, what are you doing? - It's too hot, I'm cooling off.
- Is it cold? - It's heaven.
Greer.
- Greer, your dress. - Oh, no.
Your dress.
- Are you all right? - I'm just drenched.
I should change before my mother finds me.
You should hurry because I think I see her coming.
Greer.
You look...
Like a drowned rat. I know.
Actually, you look quite trouble-free.
Excuse me.
Castleroy hasn't spoken to you, I take it?
- I... I should go. - Wait.
Greer, there are things you need to know about Castleroy.
Secrets that he should tell you.
Why are you telling me this?
For more than one reason, if I'm honest.
Ask Castleroy about this morning. Before you marry him.
For yourself.
Nor yourself, not for me.
Oh, dear Lord.
It still fits me. I'm not sure if it fits you.
Take her to the infirmary. Quickly and quietly.
I'll be there soon.
That was the Duke of Orleans.
Who languishes at the bottom of the ratings.
I've found the man that Catherine said is the one.
Lord Aris?
Yes, he's over there, talking to that lustful little countess.
So go, talk to him before she drags him off to her chambers.
And do what?
See if he has the mark? And then what?
I was just curious to know who the mystery man was.
You wanted to see that if you were to have a fling,
that it would be worth it.
Just talk to him. See if there's more to him than...
- Everything we know. - Exactly. So go.
Why am I here?
What am I doing here?
Who am I speaking to?
Caroline? Or is this my father?
I've been trapped in this half-mad diaper maid, and do you know why?
I've been trying to figure out how I died.
- Who killed me. - Father?
I pieced it together, Francis. And now I know.
That's why I left you that gift.
The bit of the lance that was left in my eye.
If it's really you in there...
I want you to leave this poor woman alone.
- Find peace, father. - There's no peace for me.
Not while my killer walks free.
If you're here to lay blame,
then at least be honest and shoulder your own.
You murdered girls who had the misfortune of sleeping with you.
You slaughtered hundreds,
heroes of Calais, for your own amusement.
You were mad.
You lusted for power, for England, for Scotland, for my wife!
You justify your sin but you don't admit it.
You couldn't have England and Scotland without her.
You couldn't have her unless I was gone.
Admit it. Admit you wanted me dead.
Is that why you did it? Is that why you killed me?
Yes!
Yes.
It nearly destroyed me to kill my own father,
but you left me no choice.
Narcisse.
You were behaving so strangely outside.
You seemed so upset. I wish that I had not followed you here.
I wish that I hadn't seen or heard this moment.
But I did.
Keep her under lock and key. No one is to speak to her.
Understood?
You're not going anywhere.
You're thinking if I were my father, you'd be dead by now.
But apparently you're not your father.
You went one better than Henry by killing him.
Against my word, all you have are rantings of a deranged woman.
Whom you are locking up, so no one may hear what she has to say.
As well you should.
Because in truth, no rumor could be as dangerous.
Regicide, it's a crime against France, against God.
Anyone who commits it, or even knows of it,
could be summarily put to death.
Man or woman, king or queen.
Which I imagine is why your queen knows nothing of this.
There is nothing for her to know. And there never will be.
- I understand perfectly. - Do you?
I am a Catholic lord,
dependent on the strength of my Catholic king.
At a time when Protestants fight to take
land and power from people like me.
Like us.
Why would I want to help my enemies?
Will you trust me, my king?
Or will you kill me?
It seems those are your only options.
Then perhaps, you are not your father after all.
As long as I'm never given a reason to be.
I was at the Protestant service this morning, where we were attacked.
That's where you were hurt? Are you secretly Protestant?
Ever since Yvette died,
I've been trying to find something to help me through it,
to make sense of why she was taken from us.
So I started going to services.
When were you going to tell me?
I was looking for the right moment, but you were so happy.
What if I asked you not to do this? Don't convert.
For your safety and mine and the children.
For what it could do to our lives if people knew.
Greer, I love you.
But if you ask me to give up what I believe,
I don't think I can marry you.
And to be fair to you, if you...
If you choose to end this now,
know that I'll still take care of your sisters and fund their dowries.
- Aloysius, that's too much. - I want to.
But if you do choose to be my wife, I promise you
you will be my full partner
in raising our family and managing my holdings,
- in all the decisions that touch us. - Not all.
We won't always agree, but I will always listen to you,
as you've listened to me.
I hope I will see you at the altar tomorrow.
I keep losing you in the castle.
Have you been hiding from me?
Of course not. What is it?
Have you considered what I told you about Condé's nephew?
He didn't throw the stone like Narcisse claimed.
Those men murdered him to prove that no Protestant,
even a high-born, is safe.
I've thought of little else.
I know you're concerned for the mood of your Catholic majority,
but I still think the simplest solution is the best one.
Equal justice for all.
The Protestant rioters must be punished.
And the Catholic murderers must be hanged, and quickly.
Before angry men take justice into their own hands again.
You're right. I will rule in the morning.
- What is it? - It's the nanny, Your Majesty.
- She's gone from her cell. - But how?
Apparently Lord Narcisse released her.
He told the guards it was on your orders.
Francis, is something wrong?
Francis.
I was expecting you.
But I wasn't entirely sure you'd come alone.
I should have killed you, it's true.
But why would I now when I know that you have Caroline?
That's why you released her. To protect her from me.
Because now I know this was all your doing, wasn't it?
From beginning to end. She was always in your service, playacting.
Coaxing some kind of admission from me.
Yes...
I also have Montgomery.
He's in a safe place, far from any man's reach.
Ready to tell the world that he didn't kill your father
if I give the word or...
if anything happens to me.
What made you even suspicious of him in the first place?
Certain generals remembered you plotting
a failed coup against your father just hours before he died.
I began to investigate. The pieces fell into place.
Does it not concern you that this plot of yours
hangs on nothing but hearsay and supposition?
There is no physical proof of anything.
Perhaps I need more to convict you, it's true.
But I only need to weaken you.
I only need to stop your allies rallying to you.
And I have plenty for that.
Especially after you mismanaged your early rule,
pushing your nobles away.
What do you want?
My crown?
- Is this all for power? - I don't want your crown.
I want what I had when your father still lived.
I want a ruler who listened to reason.
You mean a ruler who listened to you?
Yes, because what I want is what is best for France.
You and Mary, with all your ideals, will destroy this country.
In the name of justice and tolerance,
you will drive your people to civil war.
How will blackmailing me prevent civil war?
Well, to begin with,
you will release the men who killed Condé's nephew.
I can't!
I have already shared my plans to prosecute them.
With Mary?
Explain to her that you have changed your mind.
And make sure she believes you.
Because if the people learn that you killed your father,
they will never believe your queen didn't know it.
Your heads will be on two pikes side by side.
I know you're both very romantic.
But I doubt this is the future together you had in mind.
Francis, why?
We spoke of this only hours ago.
I thought we agreed.
I simply changed my mind.
You will only inflame the Protestants further.
The violence will get worse!
Soon they will have more martyrs,
and that will only increase their numbers and their rage!
Yes, and I heard your opinion, and I simply disagree.
The burning of Catholic shops is not my opinion.
The murder of that Protestant boy was not my opinion!
Mary, I have already made my decision.
I'm informing the courts now in writing, before Greer's wedding.
My people will know of my decision before the day's end.
Your people?
I thought we were to rule together.
At your coronation, you said we would rule as a partnership.
Mary, I can't always be your husband first.
Sometimes I have to be king.
Francis, this isn't like you.
Tell me what's going on? What's wrong?
We have to get to Greer's wedding.
Francis!
Honestly, is Greer drawing out the suspense
to make a grander entrance?
Will she be arriving on flying swans?
Excuse me.
Kenna and I went to wish Greer luck this morning,
and she wouldn't see us.
We were out on the ocean, sailing, and a school of dolphins swam up,
all around us.
- Really? - Now, they were so close, so wild.
One of them raised its head
and looked at me as if he could say something.
Sorry. What a wonder.
And what would he have said, if he could?
"I understand more than you think, and it thrills me to see you."
Lady Lola, I can't promise dolphins.
But is there any chance I could take you out sailing tomorrow?
Lola, I've been meaning to congratulate you.
Magnificent christening of your son. Baron John Phillip.
The king was beaming, so proud of his son.
Oh, I didn't realize. You're the mother of the new baron.
That's me, one and the same.
Let me offer my congratulations, as well.
And I must apologize. It slipped my memory.
I'm leaving at first light. So, sadly, I should retire.
What was that piece of theater?
You deliberately drove him away.
I deliberately saved you valuable time and energy.
Aris doesn't have the mettle for you.
Other men will be afraid of getting close to you
because they see you as the king's property.
- I am no one's property. - Oh, I don't see you like that.
But unlike most men, I'm not afraid of the king.
In fact, I suspect Francis is somewhat afraid of me.
Oh, so am I.
And men are afraid of you, so we're both feared.
Can be quite isolating, can't it?
It could leave one... lonely.
- That's presumptuous of you. - And yet it's true.
So, why don't we get to know one another?
- What? - Over tea.
- Tea? - You don't like tea?
- I don't like you. - You don't know me.
- I know a little. - Well, that's more than most.
A very odd but kind offer. Regrettably, I must decline.
Well...
It's an open invitation.
Xavier, you old ghost.
The butterfly.
Where have you been hiding yourself? Come.
I was certain I'd been abandoned.
What changed you?
I've spent my life grasping for security, safety.
I've lived in fear of the future, of what people might think of me
and how that could help or hurt me and my family.
But you offer something more interesting.
Something more challenging.
You stand by your convictions and principles.
You strive to make the world what it should be,
not insulate yourself from it.
- I will protect you. - And I you.
I love you.
I need you to know that.
I do.
And I want to support you.
As your wife, as your queen.
But I can't understand
why would you let the murderers of that boy walk free.
You know that this is a larger issue.
I understand that we have to bow to Catholic nobles
who pretend to bow to us.
My own nation has fallen to Protestantism.
But you could have held those Catholics accountable.
What they did is only going to inflame the Protestants.
I can't talk about this anymore.
- He was just a boy. - Mary, stop.
The nephew of your friend, your cousin.
The decision is made, it is done. I am begging you to let it go.
Why can't we discuss this?
- We used to. - It's not always possible.
Why, in this instance, is that the case?
What has changed?
Francis, what aren't you telling me?
It is a choice I made as king. A choice that we discussed thoroughly.
You just don't agree with it.
There's something else going on.
Lately you've been distant,
acting as though you're haunted by something.
I need peace and quiet.
You need to trust me! To share things with me.
Not everything can be solved by talking, by love, by you.
There are things we cannot change.
That cannot be undone.
Things that I don't tell you to protect you.
Protect me from what?
I have already said too much.
- You have said far too little! - Mary, please.
What could possibly endanger me so much that I shouldn't know about it?
Don't.
What is this mystery threat that somehow involves your son's nanny,
that has you skulking around the castle at odd hours?
Something I can't fix. Something that you can't change.
These secret visits to your son
and the baby that I lost.
You worry that I can't do it.
Do you worry that I can't bear you a child?
Yes.
I worry because, as a king and a man, I want heirs.
Is that what you want to hear?
It bring us closer for you to know that
your failure disappoints me beyond words?
Have I answered you fully?
Are we done with this relentless interrogation?
You told me you hadn't lost hope.
I lied.
Mary, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have.
I wish...
For something that I can't give you.
But I asked you for the truth,
and you certainly gave it to me.
I don't need to hear any more.
Ripped By mstoll