Let's rephrase the narrative to make it more vivid and expressive:
The skies seem to be brightening for Rahima. After incapacitating the cook who was unkind to her with the assistance of gunpowder supplied by Catherine, now the queen's official maid, Rahima enjoys a certain level of sanctuary. Catherine appears on the kitchen steps, looming like a spectral figure, silencing any whispers of Rahima's potential punishment with a stark reminder that she's shielded by royal grace. Moreover, Catherine is even granted a new dress as proof of her elevated status, albeit with a subtle yet shrewd jab aimed at another, which we shall elaborate on later.
Rahima mustn't let her newly acquired power inflate her ego, but she must be vigilant in scrutinizing those who her power attracts. This is a lesson Catherine herself could have grasped sooner, as her idealized "love" for Henri grows increasingly painful, akin to a splinter wedging deeper into her heart. Henri, having spent nearly a year at war fighting for lands supposedly owed to him through his wife's dowry, waxed poetically about his exploits through letters, yet he neglected to mention that he would return home with a mistress, Filippa, and their child, named in mockery after Diane. It's a bitter slap in the face for Catherine, who genuinely missed him, and the notion that it's merely a man's way in war offers little solace.
The mistress and child are not destined to become permanent fixtures at the court, as the true priority is a male heir, and their presence hardly augurs well for appearances. Under the King's command, presumably influenced by his growing fondness for Catherine in Henri's absence, both the woman and child are dismissed, and a physician is summoned to address Catherine's apparent inability to conceive. The official medical solution is absurdly straightforward — a mere change of position is all it takes.
At first glance, it seems the subsequent sexual encounter — oddly more awkward than their previous ones — has indeed achieved its purpose. Catherine suspects she's pregnant, and we shift our focus to other matters, such as Marthe's enduring bond with Francis. This relationship serves to humanize the young dauphin, as he's reasonably kind to a small person, having seemingly developed a fondness for them as a royal hostage of the Sultan. He even refuses the Duke of Guise's offer to essentially assassinate Catherine, a conversation Marthe overhead while hiding in an adjacent room.
However, nobody is convinced that the dauphin has suddenly undergone a transformation. During a meeting between the King and an ambassador of the Holy Roman Emperor regarding the handover of half of the Italian states conquered by Henri amidst the burgeoning Catholic-Protestant conflict, Francis voices his disdain for Catherine loudly, earning a furious rebuke from the King who physically assaults him. When Marthe tries to comfort Francis, he cruelly unleashes his anger on her. His vindictive nature remains unchanged.
Eventually, as is inevitable when one wrongs so many people repeatedly, someone will take action. Thus, during a game of tennis, Francis collapses and dies, ostensibly of heart failure but most likely due to poisoning.
However, who is the true perpetrator? Inevitably, Catherine emerges as the primary suspect. Not only does it seem logical that she might seek vengeance for Francis' earlier scathing remarks against her, but a crucial clue, a book on potions discovered in Sebastio's chamber, further incriminates her. Catherine had left this book there after receiving it from Ruggieri, its purpose being to concoct a fertility potion to secure her pregnancy. Yet, the intricate details of this plan are overshadowed.
However, Catherine cannot be openly accused of murdering the dauphin due to political ramifications. Therefore, Montmorency cunningly proposes framing Sebastio, as the incriminating book was found in his quarters, providing a convenient piece of evidence. Catherine, though reluctant, acquiesces. Sebastio's brutal and public execution sends a chill through the spines of Catherine's remaining loyalists, who suddenly realize their own expendability.
Yet, a ray of hope shines for Catherine. She appears to be finally pregnant, and in Francis' absence, Henri assumes the role of the new dauphin, thus becoming the heir to the French throne. She is well on her way to becoming queen. And as we revisit the framing narrative, we realize that her struggles to ascend the throne pale in comparison to the challenges she faces in retaining it. As previously hinted, Rahima's new dress is a second-hand garment, once belonging to Catherine's widowed daughter-in-law, Mary (Antonia Clarke), the future Queen of Scots. Mary surrounds herself with virginal white-clad lady attendants, all named Mary, and vows to do everything in her power to thwart Catherine's ambitions of consolidating power over France.
