Out in the hinterlands, Bash is all ready to finally leave France, except that it turns out the pagan family he's been staying with has been targeted by the bloodthirsty thing that was snacking on Olivia in the woods. They call it the Darkness, and if it smears blood on your door, that means you have to feed it one of your kids. Yeah, okay. The pagans think this is a totally reasonable idea, so they drug Bash when he protests, intending to feed him to the monster, but the monster isn't very discriminating and takes the daughter of the family instead. And Bash liked making out with the pagan daughter, so he swears to get her back. Short version: Bash is dumb and noble, part infinity.
At the castle, Lola is starting to panic about how she's knocked up and single, so Mary all but flings her at the pointy parts of the nearest eligible count. Philippe's rich and seems nice so Lola's like, sure, okay, let's do this, but then Francis sticks his ferrety little nose in everyone's business. First he tells Mary that Philippe is gay, then he confesses that he slept with Lola in Paris. Mary freaks out at Lola rather than at her husband. But after Francis ever so romantically nails her, Mary relents and tells Lola about Philippe's unsuitability in the taking-paternal-responsibility-for-that-baby-you're-gestating department, then counsels her to wait to be in love.
Greer's already pretty much in love with her kitchen man wench, Leith, and not just because he brings her hot biscuits. She gets a letter from her parents informing her that they've picked her a husband, who'll be arriving at the castle imminently. Rather than cry about it like some Scottish girls we know, Greer puts on a brave face and convinces a past suitor, Lord Castleroy, to offer Leith an apprenticeship in his Spanish spice-trading markets. That way Leith can rise above being a lifelong servant and doesn't have to witness Greer sadly marrying someone else. It's quite sweet, actually.
What's not sweet is how Henry has gone murder-bonkers. After getting away with accidentally killing Cecilia last week, he's escalated to asphyxiating his sex partners after he's gotten his rocks off. Waking up next to a cold blue girl sends Kenna in a panicky sprint right to Evil Anne of Green Gables. The queen confronts Henry, but he's basically mad with sex power and filled with kingly self-righteousness. I'm pretty sure history teaches us that sort of thing can only end well, yes?
Previously on Reign: Lola is pregnant with Francis's baby! Mary hates Lola! Francis hates Bash! The pagans have been nibbling on Olivia! And let us never, ever forget that Henry fucked a lady out a window. Because he did.
Kenna, who did not get de-fuck-estrated last week, comes to Henry's room to complain that he was a bit too rough when he tied her down the last time they had sex. Kenna is rigid and seems to be starting to understand that she might have bitten off more than she could chew with this whole royal mistress plan. Henry is blithely unapologetic, because apparently in flagrant accidental homicide has whetted his appetite for kinkiness? I do not think that's how it works. He promises to introduce Kenna to a fancy new man tonight and she's placated.
Henry then introduces his "new friend" Anna, and kisses her. He promises to make it worth Kenna's while if she has sex with Anna while he watches. Kenna and Anna get busy. And yet only like one or two people have been burned at the stake so far on this show.
While strolling in the snowy gardens with Mary, Lola tries to beg off the evening's First Night feast, because she has the bastard-spawn queasiness, but Mary insists that the feast isn't about food, it's about eligible gentlemen giving candles to the ladies they fancy. Even though Lola doesn't think she should be participating in candle-based flirtations, she's resolved to find a husband before her pregnancy becomes public knowledge so she doesn't become Francis's property. Mary has just the count to introduce her to! She's not particularly expansive, at first describing Count Philippe just as "a man of age to wed" before elaborating that, sure, he's also charming and well read and kind, all that drivel.
Greer and Leith are still having hot illicit make-out sessions (although how illicit they can be I don't know, since they're on her bed), and what a shame that Aylee never got any premarital sexing in her short life. Leith pries himself away from Greer's face because he has to go back to the kitchen and prepare the tons of festive cakes the nobles want for the feast.
Before he leaves, Leith passes along some gossip: the very rich Lord Castleroy, whom Greer has nicknamed Peppercorn, since all he ever talks about are his spice-trading interests, is back for the party and has his eye on Greer. She's not interested in the very boring Lord Peppercorn, but Leith points out she has no other suitors. "Except for you," Greer says, and Leith observes with no malice or jealousy that kitchen man-wenches don't count as legit suitors. She's unhappy that they can't be together for real, but he says he's fine with their making-out-only relationship. He belatedly hands over a letter from Greer's parents and then excuses himself.