TV Death is hard. Sure, real life death comes with its own set of inconveniences, but TV is where it really gets tricky. On the one hand you want every character to be appropriately devastated. If I’m crying on my couch having never physically interacted with the deceased, you—his lover turned suspected half sister turned flight instructor turned reluctant friend turned lover again— better be a goddamn mess. On the other hand, can we get back to the fun yet? Are you going to open the envelope? WERE YOU SIBLINGS? Is Mathilda sleeping with the Commander’s son? Is the oxygen on your home ship actually slow-acting poison?
Basically we just want a show that will acknowledge the death often enough that it feels significant, but not have everyone moping about . This balance is harder to strike than it seems, but this week’s Reign did a great job of honoring Francis while still getting shit done. You go girl!
We open with Bash and Charles returning from a ride, Charles on Francis’s horse. He mentions he’s envious of the bond Francis and Bash shared and Bash responds “I’d like to be a brother to you too.” Thank you so much for offering this biological fact! It seems Bash can only handle truly being a brother to one person at a time. Makes sense. How else do you think he convinced himself it was kosher to sleep with Claude?
An old smug jerk named Lord Grenier from the Privy Council swaggers up to flirt HEAVY with Charles. In an effort to entice the new King to support his Privy endeavors, he presents him with some sort of fancy fast hunting dog which I’m sure has won at least three Bests in Show. Charles loves it and runs off to play with him for one episode before he’s retired to the invisible dog house in the sky with Mary’s hound from the pilot. Newly fraternal Bash is skeptical of presents with strings and Lord Grenier stares at him with resting ulterior motive face.
last year he was only Best in Breed but his handler was a real asshole
Mary’s been evicted from her chambers because, as the Queen of only one nation, she may as well be a kitchen maid. Her new digs are maybe not as bad as the basement room I had in college that literally bred centipedes and pneumonia, but by her standards they’re pretty damn close.
Greer deals with the servants who are packing Francis’s clothes for storage. Mary snatches his wedding tunic blazer before they leave, as she should. That thing is an opulent Balmain-esque masterpiece which I deeply covet.
I’m loving a menswear moment
Bash interrupts her fashion O to ask for help with the Queen Mother. We enter Catherine’s chambers where she absently stares into space. “It’s noon, maybe you should move,” Mary suggests. Catherine’s doing the best she can, “I wake with the sun, I wash, and I dress.” Not to be whatever but that seems more than adequate? Those are three things I have yet to accomplish on the same day and I am not technically a bereaved parent, though I did lose a fish in 2011. RIP, J. Peterman. I’ll always love you.
Regardless, Mary won’t let Catherine wallow and informs her the Privy Council has met three times without her, and surprise, they’re presenting Lord Grenier as a candidate for Regent. As intended, this piques her interest and she instantly snaps into manipulation and power grabbing mode. Catherine questions why Mary would even help her considering Mary knows the first thing she would do as Regent is pull the French troops from Scotland. Mary is resolute in her promise to Francis.
Catherine and Mary crash the boys club of one of the not-official-but-super-important-and-you’re-a-loser-if-you’re-not-invited Privy Council meetings. Grenier’s clearly super confident in his chances to win which reeks of shadiness. Catherine knows he recently sold a vineyard and assumes he’s bribing everyone on the Council. She’s ready to give up, but Mary’s not about to let that happen.
He-Man Woman Haters
In England, Elizabeth meets with a recently returned Nicolas who bears the news of the burned accord. Elizabeth denounces him as being yet another man to fall for Mary—“her ability to bewitch men is well known”—which he doesn’t deny. Elizabeth has a point. Everyone falls for Mary. She’s like 17 and has been engaged three times. I’ll be lucky to get a proposal by the time I’m 65 from a man serving life in prison. Elizabeth decides to throw some shade by attacking Linlithgow, Mary’s birthplace in Scotland.
Elizabeth is extra frustrated at the moment because Robert hasn’t responded to a single one of her million despo messages she’s sent to him since he left court. She’s had enough, goes full stage 5 and writes to Amy Dudley instead.