Matt Ford

He feels a swell of satisfaction as he catches his reflection in a polished shield.

Bothwell's face is weathered from years of battle as Scotland's Border Lieutenant and Sheriff of Edinburgh.

He admires the fine blue doublet Mary gifted him for helping her restore order.

No, so Mary pardoned Darnley, she outlawed the rebels, and she made this man, Bothwell, her number one man.

He hopes today's christening will be a more peaceful affair, now that Mary has returned to her rightful place as Queen of Scotland.

He straightens the expensive fabric, admiring how it fits his stocky frame.

Bothwell opens the Queen's chamber and smiles at the sight of Mary bent over a cradle, cooing at six-month-old Prince James.

For a moment, he allows himself to indulge in the fantasy he's had almost daily since becoming her personal bodyguard, that the boy is his child and Mary his devoted queen.

A high-pitched trill brings Bothwell back to reality.

This is absurd!

Why can't I wear a crown to my own son's christening?

Bothwell feels disgust curl in his stomach as his gaze moves to Darnley.

As the only man on Mary's council who didn't plot against her, Bothwell hates that she pardoned this weasel after his betrayal.

But at least, on his advice, she refused to reinstate his king status.

You no longer have the right to bear royal arms.

I want a crown or I shall not attend, and I want...

Bothwell steps forward, his voice cutting off Darnley like a blade.

Lord Darnley, you will leave now.

Bothwell watches Darnley's head snap round, his bloodshot eyes burning with fury.

You can't order me out!