《Princess of the Black Death》


 Prologue

    Summer 1377, Sheen Palace, Richmond, England


    The king had been given his last rites.


    His wife had departed this earth 8 years ago. Queen Philippa had been a true good wife ¡ª mother to many children, five of them sons, voice of reason throughout his reign, leader to all England while he was off at war with France. His eldest daughter Isabella was the only one now by his side. He gave her everything as no princess before or since had, and she had travelled from France to see him off for a final time.


    Yes, no king could have asked for a better queen by his side. The last eight years were lonely. Edward III had been king for nigh on 50 years. Scarcely anyone but he remembered how bad a queen could be. His own mother was a she-wolf who usurped his father''s throne, had his father killed, and tried to rule in her son''s name until Edward was old enough to be able to banish his mother and kill her lover. He had been king fully since then, although in the last few years he deferred to his sons to do most of the ruling. His wife was a true partner to him, and he couldn''t have reigned so well without her.


    His priest who had listened to his final prayers and said the sacrament, sat with him now along with some advisors, who waited silently. He felt his strength slipping away. The stone room felt cold despite his fine silk blanket covering him. No one had lit a fire due to the warm summer season. Only he felt the shiver of Death''s presence.


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    He felt he had been a good king to his people and to God and was ready to commit his soul to God and Eternity. He wanted so much to see Philippa again.


    And see his own son, Edward. His son, his heir, who died before him last year but left his own son to continue the line. Edward III left many capable and cunning sons behind, and yet his kingdom would been in the hands of his quiet, gentle young grandson. He prayed his sons would aid the future boy king Richard for the glory of England, but he feared clashes and fights for their own power.


    But more than he longed to see his son, he suddenly felt a tightening grip of guilt and mourning for his beloved daughter, Joan. Little Joan, a treasure in life, adored so much by himself and Philippa, joined the angels more than 30 years earlier. Barely more than a child, he sent her into Europe with all the riches and entourage to show off England''s wealth and above all, Edward III''s own might. Little Joan was betrothed for an alliance and was put on her boat to sail away to her death. He hadn''t given her a choice in life.


    The Great Death, the greatest pestilence to befoul Christendom and claimed so, so many, came first for Joan because he sent her away.


    "Forgive me!" Edward cried, tensed up, and closed his eyes and fell back on his pillow. The priest crossed himself. There were whispers in the room as the priest confirmed the king''s death. Who did he ask for forgiveness? What sight did he see as he met his maker?


    There was only room for speculation, but word needed to be sent out. One era had now ended and a new one would rise. There was the chance for shifting alliances, new grabs for power, new justifications for switching allegiances, new possibilities of claims to the throne due to being progeny of this man. There was hardly time to mourn but immediate need to plot.


    The old king was dead; long live the king.

 Chapter I

    Winter 1333, Tower of London, England


    Queen Philippa anticipated her third child''s birth. Her confinement began a month earlier, so she had been locked in her birthing room since then with no interaction with her husband. Her young children, Edward and Isabella, were being looked after and had only been brought to her a couple of times early in her lying in time. This was all expected. A queen preparing for a royal birth must focus exclusively on calm, godly thoughts to ensure a successful birth and only be surrounded by women.


    A fire burned in the fireplace and Philippa sat up in bed with nothing to do but wait. She was buried under fur-lined blankets, but the stone castle walls still made the room feel chilled. Oh, a child born in winter had more risks to health, but Philippa had felt so much movement in her room that she knew the child was strong.


    Her ladies in waiting sat by the window practised their needlework and read to the queen from the Bible. Although Philippa dutifully respected English royal birthing traditions, she was bored after a few weeks. All but one window was covered and left for some light and fresh air. She had been told too much light at this point could hurt her eyes, and she had to go along with what she was advised. So she couldn''t do much herself except talk to her ladies and listen to them while they found something to occupy their time.


    The room was kept like her womb: warm, dark and quiet. It was the best transition environment for the baby, even though each day felt like it lasted forever to the queen.


    She longed for her husband''s kisses, his gentle caresses on her body, the way he possessed her completely, filling her with delight every time he was with her.


    Oh! Philippa knew she mustn''t think such things. Piety to God and the Church was important above all else, but it was He the Lord who sanctified marriage and He who created the pleasure when a man burrowed his face into his wife. It was a woman''s duty to provide children, but it was God himself who must want it to be enjoyable, even if she couldn''t admit it aloud.


    It was by royal decree that Philippa was to marry a man she had never met and who she didn''t even meet at the wedding. He could have been anything. He could have been old, ugly, cruel, or impotent. She had no choice. No, she had been married by proxy and arrived in England as a wife to an unseen figure. She was an alliance from her father to Edward''s mother. It was a princess''s duty to be sent away and marry whom she was told. She grew up with the finest education and most beautiful clothes, knowing all along her dear father would give her away to whomever most benefited him.


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    But who could have been luckier? Philippa grew to love Edward rather quickly. He was tall and burly with a long, dark beard. He was a warrior and led troops in battle but was so gentle and caring in bed, even from the first night they consummated the marriage.


    She looked forward to the nights he visited her apartments. He sought her counsel during the war about the financial cost, and after giving thought, she advised expansion of new industries, which he followed. New industry meant new income to the citizens and to the Crown. There were citizens of Flanders who had moved to London when she moved. Flanders was known for its textiles, and she convinced Edward to give skilled weavers land up river in Norwich. It was land he had no use for, and once the weavers were established with land, they grew wealthy on their output, other townspeople grew the town larger, and Edward had more funds from the new community.


    Despite being a homesick princess upon arrival on English soil, she was now firmly English in her heart. Her children were England''s future. The tapestries in her chamber were from Flemish hands, so the old princess and current queen had something in common.


    Philippa felt the familiar contracting of her belly.


    "Ladies," she said. They all turned towards her. "It is time."


    The midwives got in position, but her lady who was reading from the Bible continued. Philippa knew childbirth could end in the beauty of a child or in death, a fate that claimed poor and rich women alike. This was her punishment of the original sin, and she braced herself for the familiar pain.


    But now was the time to focus on breathing and let the midwives do their job. God would decide her fate. She clutched tightly to a cross placed into her hand. Incidentally, He made it an easy birth. God was good to her that day. Philippa only felt the pain of contractions for upwards of an hour before the baby emerged.


    "A girl," the ladies cried.


    Philippa let out a grateful sigh. The child cried out, the child was alive, a princess for England, a princess to aid their family much like Philippa aided Flanders when she came to England.


    As Philippa held her newborn daughter against her chest, she knew as queen, it was also her destiny to raise her daughters to be sent away. Did it break her parents heart to see her go or was it something they prepared themselves for? Philippa would have to prepare herself too. They were her children, but more importantly, they were the nation''s children.


    "What shall you name her?" one of the ladies asked.


    "Joan," the queen whispered out. "Joan of England."

 Chapter II

    Spring 1338, Cambridge, England


    Little Joan survived her first few years and was a precocious child of almost five. She hardly ever saw her parents. Sometimes they weren''t even in the same castle. When she did see them, she much revered being in their presence, her lord and lady.


    Isabella was one and a half years older than her, and they played together in the morning and took lessons midday and afternoon. Lessons on Latin and French, on musical instruments, and the arts. Their cousin Joanna of Kent was seven years older and had her own tutor but still played with the younger girls sometimes. Joanna was staying with them for the summer. Joan''s brother Edward, the Duke of Cornwall, was eight and had his own tutor, Dr. Walter Burley of Merton College. He was a wiry old man with stark white hair who didn''t even talk to the princesses, but Joan felt like she knew him through Edward''s tales at mealtimes. He spent most of his time learning maths, diplomacy, finance, philosophy, and theology. He had tea and supper with the girls and told them his lessons, mostly to make them jealous.


    Marie de St Pol was her governess and mother figure for her day-to-day life. Marie, highly regarded by the king, was given the high honour of overseeing the princesses'' education. Joan loved Marie, her soft-spoken manner, her hugs and when she read to them.


    Marie usually left the children alone for their midday meal and came back to collect their girls for their lessons after an hour. She took her meal in her room or with the local priest. With her land grant, she was to dedicate a nunnery to the town. That was her great life''s responsibility, after tending to their king''s children. She also spoke of founding a house of scholars to go with it. Her love of learning was transposed onto Joan.


    Edward bragged again about his lessons.


    "I want to learn diplomacy," Joan pouted at supper. The other girls laughed.


    "You can''t. That''s a boy subject. All the diplomacy you need to know is how to be a wife and mother. I need to know how to think because I''ll be king after Father."


    "When will I be queen?" Joan asked.


    "You won''t be Queen of England, you ninny," Edward said, taking a big bite of his pudding. "You''ll be queen someplace else. If Father dies soon, I''m going to send you to live far away and you can''t come back."


    "Don''t talk about Father dying!" Isabella snapped.


    Joan started to cry. She had lived at a few different castles depending on season, but she had never lived far away. She had never been outside of England.


    "Oh, Ed, be gentle," Isabella said, hugging Joan close. "We will both live far one day, but we''ll always write to each other. We will have nice husbands and be mothers to princes. Maybe we will live somewhere very sunny and with very good food."


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    "But I don''t want to go!" Joan cried.


    "You will when you''re older. You''ll see."


    "When I''m king, I''ll have a nice and loving queen," Edward said. He looked at cousin Joanna in a peculiar way. Joanna blushed. "You will make a good wife. You are so pretty."


    "Yeah, you''re pretty," Joan agreed. Cousin Joanna had beautiful blonde hair pulled up with ribbons. She played the lute, sang well, and recited biblical passages in Latin, impressing their tutors. She would sometimes play dolls with Isabella and Joan even though she was older than them.


    "Please, stop," Joanna said, looking down.


    Edward took her hand. "You could be my queen. I would love to be with you every day. You''re a sunshine. You''ll make beautiful children."


    "You said queens had to leave their countries!" Joan exclaimed suddenly. She turned to Isabella. If Cousin Joanna could be queen, why did she have to leave?


    "Edward isn''t going to marry Joanna," Isabella assured her. She turned to her brother. "Father won''t give you everything you want."


    "He will! I was chosen by God to be king one day. I get what I want because I honour God." As Edward began to argue with Isabella, Joanna excused herself to prayer and slipped out of the room. Before Joan could fulfil her curiosity and follow her, Marie de St Pol returned to the hall. "Girls, let''s remove to the study. I have some news. I received word that the King and Queen will be here in a matter of weeks."


    "Oh, joy!" Isabella clasped her hands together.


    "Why?" Joan asked.


    "Well, aren''t you always filled with questions, little one," the lady de St Pol said. "The letter doesn''t say, but you''ll both be dressed for your best when their carriage is spotted. Joan, we''ll practise your curtsy for when you greet them."


    Mother and Father! Joan''s memories of them were hazy, and she remembered them but not how long ago or how often she had seen them. They were busy and travelled often, and it was safer for the children to stay in one place. Still, excitement raced through her. Her parents were the closest thing to holy she had ever known. No one had ever said an ill word against them. Marie always discussed how handsome the king was and beautiful the queen was, and how kind and generous they both were. They were the light of the country, and soon that light would be upon her.


    . . .


    Later in the night, the girls readied for bed and said their prayers. Joan noticed her cousin say something under her breath after the prayer had finished.


    "Do you want to marry Edward one day?" Joan asked her.


    "I must marry as I am bid." The girls shared a room with a large bed they all slept in. They all climbed in with little Joan in the middle. Joanna pulled at the ties on her chemise.


    "Will you pray for him?" Joan asked.


    "Joan, leave her alone," Isabella, to her right, said. She extinguished the bedside candle. The room was enveloped in darkness.


    "I pray for all my family. You princesses, the prince, and the king and queen," Cousin Joanna said. "I do believe your brother is right, especially if he is an unmarried king. He will choose lust over a smart alliance."


    "What''s lust?" Joan asked.


    "Edward wants to share a bed with her instead of us," Isabella explained. "Now, sister, be quiet and go to sleep."


    What a strange want, Joan thought. The prince had a bed to himself!


    "I''d rather go to a nunnery than get married. Good night, cousins," Joanna said, and the girls fell asleep with the pale moonlight shining through the window.

 Chapter III

    When Joan woke, she was alone in bed. The maid was setting out her dress and helped put on her clothing layers on her over her chemise. She then braided the child''s hair and washed her hands and face from the ewer.


    Joan thought about the night before. She kept being told how marriage was the most important thing a young lady could do for her family, but her dear cousin would prefer a life of solace, rather than be queen of her own country, if she had the choice? It didn''t make sense.


    The Lady de St Pol, her beloved guardian Marie, entered the room. She was clad in a light blue dress with a high neck and a wimple covering her hair. "Princess, it is time for your French lesson. Get out your books." French was crucial to learn, Joan had been taught, because her father was the rightful king of France and was fighting a war to claim French lands as his own.


    "Do you have a husband, my lady?" Joan asked.


    "My dear, you cannot put off your lesson," Marie said.


    "I will marry one day."


    "Yes, Princess, you will. I was married. For one day," Marie said. She sat on the wooden bench at the end of the bed. "Lord Aymer was fifty and I was a teenager. It was all arranged by powers greater than me. The lord married me in the morning, took me to wife by midday and befell an accident while jousting in the afternoon."


    "Oh no!" Joan cried out.


    "Don''t worry, little one. He was a good man, but he left me a rich widow, and I''m using the money for good works. I''m building an abbey in Cambridgeshire. I sold some of my husband''s property to his majesty the King, and in turn he sends me an annual salary for the rest of my life as payment. As part of my service to God and Country, I tutor you until you are old enough for your higher education, and then I will retire to my house by the abbey, serving the community through the church."


    Joan felt her heart sink, thinking of the woman who had done the most to raise her not being in her life one day. She would dearly miss Marie, but one day everyone she knew would be gone. One day she would have a new homeland. One day she would leave England and never return. She would love her new country, wherever it was, like her own mother had come to love England.


    "Shall you get a new husband?" Joan asked her. Despite the lady''s more modest and covered way of dressing, Marie was only thirty or so. She was surely young enough for another marriage.


    For the first time ever, Joan heard Marie''s sudden and boisterous laughter.


    "Oh, heaven''s no."


    . . .


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    Within a few days, newly woven royal banners with the Plantagenet Crest were hung in the entrance of the castle. Freshly cut flowers filled every vase. Every piece of silver was polished until it looked like new. Joan and Isabella were dressed in their fine red dresses, the ones with golden threaded designs and soft ermine fur lining, much finer than their day to day wear. Their hair pieces were of the most delicate lace, ones Marie usually kept in a special cabinet. It only meant one thing.


    The King and his Queen were due to arrive.


    Prince Edward stood at the top of the staircase, Princess Isabella a step down, Princess Joan next, cousin Joan of Kent, then the nobles of the house including Marie, then all the servants at the bottom. Waiting felt like hours, holding still In a proper pose, not talking. The prince was in a jewelled doublet and new leather shoes with white hose. He had on a small crown and a sceptre in his hand.


    Joan thought he looked an awful lot like a king in the making. But he could be so mean and call her names. She thought he would be a bad king.


    Finally, trumpets started outside, and the large wooden doors flew open. Sunlight swallowed the room in heavenly light. Joan raised her hand to shield her eyes, and suddenly she saw two figures entering, parting the sea of faces ¡ª a very tall bearded man with a crown befitting his frame, in a long blue cloak and a more slender, delicate woman with blue-black hair and golden headdress, wearing a gold and white dress with a long train, both sparkling in the daylight like God''s angels.


    "Mum and Dad!" Joan shouted, forgetting her place and running down the stairs to them.


    "Joan, no!" Isabella hissed but was unable to grab her arm in time and was too scared to move from her place on the steps to follow her.


    Queen Philippa, despite her daughter''s breach in etiquette, reached out her arms for her younger daughter. She wrapped her in an embrace. King Edward III also bent down to hold them both tightly.


    "Oh!" Joan remembered her training and quickly curtseyed. "Welcome, my Lord and Lady."


    King Edward laughed and patted her on the head. "Come, darling, let us go greet your brother and sister."


    . . .


    The whole royal family dined at the higher table with all the nobility in the realm attending. Dinner was the greatest meal Joan could remember - stuffed quail, poached eggs, glazed carrots, meat pies, sweet potatoes, and forest berries and cream for dessert.


    Joan ate so much she could barely move, but feeling sated was more than a full belly. Musicians played flutes and drums, and people clapped along. There was much drinking as the night went on and some danced, but the royal family stayed on their dais and observed.


    The king and queen asked their children about their lessons and how they liked their time in Cambridge.


    "It''s a big castle, and there''s a nice field with wildflowers," Joan observed.


    "I miss London," Isabella said.


    "Our castle in Oxfordshire is much bigger," Prince Edward said.


    The king laughed. "Oh, I''ve missed you children. You''re growing up so fast. Soon you''ll have more responsibility at court. In fact, I''m already in discussions for Isabella to wed Pedro of Castile."


    "You want to send me to Castile?" Isabella said quietly.


    "Oh, darling, don''t look at me with those sad eyes," the king said. "We''re just in discussions for now. Nothing has been decided."


    Everyone was smiling and laughing so much. Joan was like a flower when the sun finally shone through clouds. Everyone at court was more merry now the king and queen were here.


    "How long will you stay?" Joan asked, feeling a desperate tug at her insides. She was having such a fun night, but her parents'' responsibility to the kingdom trumped their parental duties.


    "We''ll talk about it tomorrow," King Edward said. He raised his glass. "Tonight is for rejoicing!"

 Chapter IV

    The following morning, King Edward took his son out hunting, and Queen Philippa took her daughters to the chapel to thank God for their safe travels. Joan had wanted to accompany her father because they were going to ride horses out to the forest, but she was told it wasn''t an activity for ladies, and that she would not do well seeing the death inherent with hunting. To that, Joan agreed. She liked deer and pheasant too much to see them killed before her eyes.


    The chapel was a small private building located near the castle''s entrance. It contained a few pews, a large altarpiece in the centre of the room with a cross, and small slits for windows. The room was mostly lit from within by candlelight. Philippa explained that candles were like Jesus Christ''s light on their lives, the main source of light inside their souls. Joan tried her best to learn all the stories and incantations and rituals to her faith. Philippa explained to her children what the rituals meant in a way they could comprehend.


    Philippa said a quick prayer and lit a candle. The girls did the same, mimicking her movements. She then knelt before the statue of Christ, crossed herself, and said another prayer. Joan did likewise, saying a prayer for her parents to stay with her, but she said it quietly so only herself and the Lord would hear it. She knew it was selfish to want to be their focus over their duties to England, but she felt more complete in their presence and yearned for it to last.


    After the were done in the chapel, Philippa escorted them on a stroll around the courtyard. It was one of those days where the air was crisp, and the sky was cloudless. Joan skipped along the long pathways.


    "Oh, daughters, it is good to rest a bit here." Philippa stopped walking. "I am to be at your father''s side as I am able. He seeks to get the French lands rightfully his through his mother''s inheritance. He is the only living grandson of the late King Philip IV. He will not give up until he succeeds in his claim."


    Joan''s heart sank. She didn''t care at all about lands in faraway France but knew to keep her mouth shut about it. She knew foreign interests meant the king wouldn''t remain in England long. How long did it take to win a war? If God was on his side, surely not long.


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    Philippa patted the top of Joan''s head. "It''s summer now, and nice and warm with flowers in bloom. You''ve seen a few seasons now. Soon it will be autumn, then winter, then spring again, and finally summer again. Things will always change. You''ll change too. It''s just the nature of things. Enjoy things while you can and know everything is only temporary here on Earth."


    Joan and Isabella went out into the field and started to gather pretty flowers they saw. Philippa stood by the gate. "It''s really very pretty here, out in the country," the queen said, mostly to herself.


    "Did you come to see us to plot our weddings?" Isabella asked her.


    "Oh, we''re always thinking of that. We will always need alliances, especially as we''re in war. Hopefully weddings will hasten the end of the fighting if we can get other powers to be on our side."


    Joan held the flowers in her hand and imagined walking down the aisle with a beautiful bouquet to her future husband. "Do you like being married?" Joan asked.


    "Oh, yes," Philippa said. Her dark brown eyes lit up. "But every marriage is different. The King and I were a lucky match. You must be a good wife and support your husband, no matter what he''s like. It gets easier as you get to know him." She touched her belly and smiled. "I am with child, my dears. It''s such a joy, even when it''s a heartache."


    Joan cried out in joy and hugged her mother. She loved the idea of being a big sister finally. Then she remembered how the queen''s last baby, her brother William, had died shortly after he was born. She had never even gotten to meet the infant. Joan looked up at her mother. "How do you know the baby will live?"


    "There''s no way to know. Every time it''s a risk, but it''s worth the reward, darling. Life and death are partners in life," the Queen said.


    Joan was reassured. She wanted to meet the new baby and be as close to him or her as she was to Isabella. She would finally have someone who would look up to her.


    "You were named to honour my mother Joan, and Isabella was named to honour the king your father''s mother. And you both look so much like him and me and our mothers. You are our legacy we will leave behind when it is our time. You see, children are a gift we bring into the world. I pray every day for God to keep my children safe, and it''s God''s will what happens next."


    Philippa reached out her hands to both her daughters. "Let''s go inside where it is cooler. I want to observe your lessons with Lady de St Pol."


    So they returned for their afternoon lessons. Joan tried to be the best pupil that her parents expected her to be.

 Chapter V

    Sometimes her parents took their meals in the rooms, and sometimes they spent all day with their children. Every day Joan''s heart raced and wondered if or when she would see them. It was not up to her to enter their space. Even as their child, she was their subject and had to wait to be called upon like anyone else. Their rooms were in a separate wing of the castle, so it was impossible to accidentally come across them. They called upon their children only when other business didn''t take precedence.


    Prince Edward spent more time than his sisters did with their parents. Joan was jealous, but Isabella urged her to keep those thoughts to herself. He was prince and heir. He was just going to be more important. Whenever the girls did see the prince, he was unusually elusive about what he and the king spoke about. He would just tell them it was important and above their heads to understand. Edward hinted that he would soon be given a leadership role because he was getting older. Joan pointed out he was still a child too.


    "You don''t know what you''re talking about!" Edward yelled before storming off.


    One sunny morning, the king called his daughters to his study room. Joan had not been in the room before. There were stacks of papers everywhere, books scattered on the bookshelf, and a large map on the table. King Edward sat at a chair in front of the map. He was just such a larger than life figure, tall, broad shoulders, a big bushy beard with some grey in it. Joan was in awe of his presence. He commanded any room he was in by his nature.


    "My girls! I want to show you something." The king gestured to the map. Joan looked at it, but she had never seen such a big map before. "Your mother grew up in a trading village, here in Hainault," he said, pointing to a place across the sea. "She learned diplomacy as a girl. It is important that you girls understand the way of things."


    Edward''s finger landed on an island surrounded by waves and a sea serpent between island and the rest of land. "See, England is here," he said, pointing to the brown shape. Joan could read the word England on it. "Here is the English Sea, a narrow water, and then here is France. After King Charles died, I, being the nearest male relative through my mother, should have inherited the crown when he died. Here is Aquitaine, which the pretender king Philip has stolen from me. These here and here are lands I inherited from my mother when I came of age."


    "The She Wolf?" Joan blurted out, repeated the oft-mentioned nickname she had heard.


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    Edward slammed his fist on the map. "Where did you hear that name?"


    "I don''t remember," Joan stammered. It was true, she had heard it repeated so many times she hadn''t seen any offence in it. She heard a name, the mysterious and mean queen that was her grandmother.


    Edward''s expression softened. "Dears, it is true my mother was wicked. I believe she was at first a dutiful wife to my father, but he did not love her or provide for her. She and her lover overthrew and killed my father and ruled in my name until I was old enough to command my own throne. Aye, what mettle it took to seize my rightful throne, but I did and I''m a strong king because of it."


    "What happened to her?" Joan asked.


    "She has her own residence in Norfolk. You met her when you were a babe. You see, the Bible teaches us to honour thy mother and father, just as you honour me. My mother brought me into the world, and I don''t fear she will try and take my throne, so I leave her to live as she wishes."


    "What happened to her lover?" Isabella asked.


    "He was hanged for being a traitor." King Edward looked down at the map. "See, this area to the west of France is the Holy Roman Empire. There have been many disputes over borders between the two countries. I think the emperor and I can come to an understanding that benefits us both. I will just need an audience with him."


    Isabella looked at the map. "Where is Castile?"


    King Edward pointed more south than France. It was far from England.


    "Father, may I have a word alone with you?" Isabella asked.


    "My darling, of course. It is my intention to spend some alone time with all of you." They both looked at Joan. "Little Joan, your time will come. Will you give your sister and me a moment alone?"


    The thought of alone time with her father filled her with joy. She skipped out of the study outside to the courtyard. Her brother was playing with a wooden sword alone.


    "Can I play?" Joan asked.


    "I''m not playing; I''m practising. When I go into battle, I will have to be a good fighter. I will kill many soldiers."


    "What battle? We won''t be at war when you''re old enough to go to a battle," Joan pointed out.


    Prince Edward continued to swing his sword. "Someone will always challenge England, and I will smash them down like the brutes they are." He suddenly swung the sword against Joan''s arm.


    "Ow!" she cried out.


    "No mercy!"


    There was a blackness to his eyes that scared her, and she ran inside. She ran to her room, but she knew better than to tell on the prince who would be king.


    No one would punish him for striking his sister. He was prince and heir, everyone constantly reminded her to excuse him. He would never apologise. He could get away with whatever he wanted unless her parents chose to step in, and they rarely did. Such things were true for the king as well, but the king was kind. The prince was mean and had always been mean. Joan didn''t want to see the day Edward would have total authority when he ruled England.

 Chapter VI

    Weeks had passed and although Joan saw her parents at most mealtimes, she hadn''t had any alone time with her father as she had hoped. She spent more time with the queen during morning prayers and while they did needlework in the afternoon. Queen Philippa was quick to advise patience when Joan became frustrated with an incorrect stitch.


    One day, the king summoned the children to the throne room. Meals were generally full of other people, but as the king and queen sat alone in their red velvet and gold framed grand chairs, the room suddenly felt uneasily empty.


    "My children, I have been in correspondence with the Holy Roman Emperor, Louis IV. To secure an alliance, I must go to his kingdom and discuss things, man to man. I will sail there within the next week or so."


    Joan''s heart sank. Her time with her parents would be coming to an end for who knew how long.


    "He has invited me to his Imperial Diet, where important dukes and princes around Europe gather in a forum to discuss important topics. It is an honour for me to attend. And I''ve decided Joan will accompany me."


    Joan''s jaw dropped as everyone looked at her. "Me?"


    She tried to think back on her map lesson. How far was the Holy Roman Empire? How long would it take to get there? What was it like there?


    "Oh, Joan! You''ll love seeing a new kingdom," Queen Philippa said. "Meeting the emperor, and the empress is my sister! My elder sister Margaret and I were close friends as children and we still write to one another. I wish I could go with you." The queen touched her stomach. "But I am unable to travel so far now. You will make our family proud, and behave kindly to Louis and Margaret as you would to us.."


    "I am glad to accompany you, my lord," Joan said, her head still whirling. She had many questions but knew the details would come later. The king decreed--everyone else followed.


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    "I will have a few gowns made for you for the trip, and we will leave soon on our voyage," the King said. He raised his glass. "To unions!"


    Joan and her siblings followed and raised their glasses. She thought about how at last she would get her father''s attention. Even with business he had to take care of, there was so much time to travel that she could have hours and hours to talk to him.


    Talk about what? she wondered. Her future, her studies, his adventures in Europe? The possibilities were endless. It was what she was most excited to plan for.


    * * *


    Later that night when the girls got ready for bed in their room, they were all abuzz with excitement about Joan''s journey.


    "Sister, I am so jealous! I''ve never been out of England," Isabella said. "You will meet so many new people, see so many new things. You''ll sail on a big ship!"


    Joan beamed. The possibilities of travelling seemed endless. She could hardly picture what it may entail. She knew her mother came from Hainault and her father claimed the French throne, but she wasn''t able to picture life outside of what she knew. She was excited to see possibilities for herself.


    Cousin Joanna took her hand. "Princess, I will miss you. I will write to you often. We can share all the details of our lives."


    "Oh, I shall write to you too! To think how much fun it will be!" Joan exclaimed. She loved receiving letters, but she had few people to write to. It would be a good way to practise her handwriting and language skills.


    The girls soon after blew out the candle for the night, but Joan could hardly sleep. When she did, she dreamed of ships she had seen drawn in her books.


    * * *


    Within a few weeks, the preparations were made. Marie had helped her get new dresses and pack her belongings in trunks. As the carts were being loaded up with their possessions, Joan felt pangs of excitement and nervousness set in. She had travelled to different castles in her life, but never so far away before. None of the castles were her true home; the country itself was her home, and she would be without it for some time.


    She had never known life without Isabella. Her parents were often away, but she had always had her sister by her side no matter where they lived. She had always had her brother as well, but she would not miss him. She knew she would miss her sister most of all.


    Joan tearfully said goodbye to Isabella, Marie, and her mother. She was scared, but proud. Her father chose her to accompany him. Her father picked her. That gave her the confidence she needed as she entered the carriage and waved farewell to the life she knew.

 Chapter VII

    Summer 1338, Southern England


    King Edward rode in the front of the entourage on his tall chestnut brown horse. Two dozen servants in the king''s livery accompanied on horse and on foot. There were many military personnel in the revenue -- knights, esquires, but also stewards, grooms, pages, master of horse, master of wardrobe, attendants, maids for the princess, kitchen staff to prepare meals, laundry staff to wash linens, and clerics for spiritual cleansing. Joan had never travelled in such a large group. It was slow travels, but it included most of the comforts of home.


    For almost a week, they journeyed, stopping at noblemen''s castles every night. Sleeping conditions varied, but Joan enjoyed meeting new people along the way. The days grew hotter as summer progressed, and sitting in a stuffy carriage for hours on end with no one to talk to was dreadfully dull. Edward didn''t ride in the carriage. Through the small windows, the countryside forest looked the same hour after hour until finally they made it to the seaside port at Dover on the southern coast of England.


    How vast was the sea! She marvelled at the endless blue beauty. The port was filled with so many people loading and unloading ships. She gazed at the water and could see nothing else all the way to the horizon.


    The king escorted Joan on the rocks as their ship was loaded with their belongings.


    "What a big ship!" Joan exclaimed. It was as magnificent as she had imagined. The giant white sails reached up higher than she could crane her neck. The smooth wooden sides extended what seemed like a hundred feet. She had been on boats on the River Thames, but this was different. Those were lower to the water and powered by men on oars.


    This ship loomed large over every other ship at port. The sea extended so far she couldn''t see the other side of land. Just an endless grey blue field that never seemed to end. How marvellous! How beautiful the way the water sparkled.


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    "Aye, Daughter. This ship is large, and it is fast. From here to the mainland is the smallest distance to sail. The sea is thrilling, but it is dangerous. The bigger the ship, the steadier she is."


    "How does the captain know where to go?" Joan asked. She could understand that boats on the Thames went up and down stream and docked in front of the buildings they wanted to go to. On the sea, there was nothing in sight.


    "They''ve been across the channel many times, and they''ve learned how the direction of the wind blows the sails. They keep note of direction by sun or stars at night. It doesn''t take very long to see land on the other side. Hold onto the rail when we start to sail, and you''ll see."


    King Edward held her hand as they walked up the ramp to board their ship. Her feet swayed as the boat did, gentle but noticeable sway. Joan let out a yelp of excitement, finding the rocking of the vessel unexpected and exciting. She set her feet apart to balance.


    By the time everyone and everything was loaded into the ship, the ship pulled away from the shore and into the horizon of the endless sea until the land was gone from view. The swaying of the ship became less novel and assuredly more nauseating rather quickly. Waves pummelled the ship, causing it to rear like an angry horse. Mist sprayed on everyone on board, whipping them in the face like pin pricks and leaving her face and hair damp. Joan leaned against the railing, feeling her stomach turning inside her. She closed her eyes even though she had wanted to watch the water the entire time.


    The king laughed. "Daughter, you will get used to the boat! Just wait until your sea legs grow."


    "I''ll get new legs?" Joan asked, scared.


    "You''ll get used to the sea sometime. It just takes time."


    Until then, he took her below deck and laid her on a small bed while he sat beside her. He got a damn cloth to put in her head. Lying down made the world seem less dizzy. "Rest here and close your eyes. Hopefully when you awake, we''ll be on land again, then you''ll feel better. Hush now. I''ll wait here until you sleep."


    He held her hand gently, and through his comfort, Joan felt her sickness lessen and soon was rocked to sleep.


    When she awoke, she was safely back on land.

 Chapter VIII

    Summer 1338, Northern Holy Roman Empire


    The journey from sea to city took more than a week. Much of the journey was on rickety poorly-kept roads though fields and woods. Joan found the forests much like England and the castles they rested at much like ones she stayed in. If she didn''t know any better, it would be as if she never left. It was both a familiar comfort and somewhat eerie, like stepping into a mirror where everything is the same but different because she couldn''t anticipate what was just around each corner.


    Because of their large party and royal status, a couple harbingers were always sent ahead of the King''s party to arrive first at noble houses. They announced the King''s approach and to make sure they were welcome and the lord had the space and supplies to house the group for a night. King Edward would introduce Joan to every house as his beloved daughter. Everyone conversed mostly in Latin, which gave Joan a chance to practice her lessons or in the local German, which Joan did not know. She constantly asked and remembered important words and phrases to try to understand more at the next lord''s estate.


    "You will not find much English here," King Edward told her after a few days. "They only speak that in our country. But you may find French-speaking people, maybe Polish, maybe Flemish--that is your mother''s tongue. You are my diplomat-in-training, Joan. I hope you soak up all the language you can. Learn some German as we go." Joan took her assignment seriously.


    While in England, Joan mostly played imagination games or with dolls and other figurines while adults didn''t play at all. In the Holy Roman Empire, she observed in many castles that everyone played card games, often for money.


    The King learned quickly and played the game Karn?ffel, a local favourite. Joan asked to play, but her father asked her to watch first. He played against 3 other noblemen, one of whom they were staying with.


    "See, here I have five cards, four face down, and this one is face up. My card is the lowest, so I go first. The next player goes and..." The other players put down a higher numbered card also in the same acorn suit. "See he wins and now leads, but I have a higher card, so I take this trick. See the types of cards are acorns, leaves, hearts, and bells and each suit has the same cards."


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    Once Joan saw her father put down a card with a "K" and a picture instead of a number. "Oh, a king! You win!"


    The men chuckled. "Not quite. The king, or kaiser, beats all the common cards, but as in life, he is trumped by three things: the Pope, who has power over all kings; the Devil, who tempts all men with sinful temptation; and Karn?ffel which is..."


    "God?" Joan guessed.


    "Karn?ffel means...to cudgel, to thrash, to flog...to be rough, uncouth, and violent," one gentleman said.


    "It means a scrotal hernia!" another says. "Now that''s violence!"


    "Not in front of my daughter!" King Edward said.


    Joan felt horrified. "How can the highest power be that?"


    "Well, it''s a silly card game name. Of course, our Lord is the highest power, and He can be good and gracious, but He can also be very cruel and smite those who''ve done wrong. God looks out for us but sometimes, the means of which He can punish us is beyond what our minds can imagine. That trumps all else, more than kings and popes and the Devil himself, is the wrath of the Almighty. His wrath is stronger than His mercy."


    "Hmm," she said.


    This gave Joan a lot to think about. How could priests talk of God''s love for all and then such terrible things happened to good people? What was He trying to tell his disciples?


    She hadn''t given close thought to it before. She was told what the Bible said and tried to read it for herself when she practised Latin, but she hadn''t thought about the contradictions between God''s love and hate. Everything she did was to be a good girl to please her parents and God. In return, she thought they would reward her with love in return. She wasn''t sure what she would do if she did her best, and God still punished her.


    Joan watched more rounds of the game and put religious philosophy aside. The king played as a partner to the man across from him against the two men sitting beside him. Sometimes King Edward won and sometimes he lost, but he drank much during the games and seemed merry all night. Joan was just glad to be by his side.


    The next day, Joan asked to play.


    "It''s a four person game," he said. Joan frowned. "Oh, you know what, a quick game or two. I''ll find two willing to play against us. But then we must continue our journey soon to meet the Emperor."


    He did find agreeable players and introduced her as, "my partner, Princess Joan." Her heart could not be more filled with joy. This trip was indeed the best thing to ever happen to her.

 Chapter IX

    Summer 1338, Coblen, Holy Roman Empire


    As they made their way to their final destination for the Imperial Diet, King Edward invited Joan to sit on his horse with him instead of in the carriage for at least part of an afternoon. The journey became infinitely more tolerable. She had a better view, she smelled more of the pine scents of the forest, and she had her beloved father to talk to inside of a lonely darkened carriage interior.


    His horse was a massive creature, at least twice her height, chestnut-coloured, with a reddish blond mane and shining black eyes. Joan gently touched his leg, and the horse whinnied. Joan took a step back. The king mounted the horse first, and his master of the horse lifted her to the front of the saddle.


    "I''m so high up!" Joan cried out, scared and thrilled. She gripped onto the saddle''s cantle but didn''t feel secured from falling.


    "Don''t fear, little one," the King said. "Hold the reins here. The horse''s name is Red Arrow. He''s feisty but gentle. You will like him. I won''t let you fall. You are safe with me."


    Their entourage was quite large, but the king passed the time on horseback telling stories about magical creatures in the German forests. "They say there are dragons about," he said. "Ugly creatures, like serpents, long, legless scaly bodies and with poisonous breath. Only the bravest knights can kill such a beast."


    "Dragons!" Joan exclaimed. "There are no dragons in England."


    "That is right, do you remember the story of Saint George and how he slayed a dragon? He is the patron saint of England. We are deep into Europe now, far, far from the sea. There could be dragons about in these parts. Luckily I am strong and will protect you, Daughter. I am mighty with my sword."


    Joan felt relieved. She saw no stirring in the bushes of any possible dragon, as perhaps they sensed her father''s presence.


    It had been so long since their journey started, from her home castle to here, that it seemed like she could spend the rest of her life travelling from one town to another. Until finally one day, they arrived at their destination in a town called Coblen, deep in the heart of the Holy Roman Empire.


    Upon gazing at the Kastorkirche church, she didn''t think it was anything remarkable. There were two tall towers in front, but it was not as tall nor grand as Westminster Abbey. Edward explained the architecture was Romanesque, fitting for the HRE but not a style they had at home. Trumpets sounded to announce their arrival.


    "Let us go in," the king said after they had dismounted.


    They walked up a long staircase to enter, and atop it awaited a man in a long cape, large crown and a pointed nose and chin. He had a more slight build than her father, but his elegant dress made it clear whose presence they were in.


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    "Presenting his royal highness, King Edward III of England!" the head trumpeter said.


    "Edward, let me introduce myself as King of the Romans," the man said.


    "Louis! At last we meet," King Edward exclaimed.


    As Joan looked to the woman next to Louis, she let out a small gasp. The empress donned a beautiful, velvet trimmed dress, but the face was such like her mother''s she felt suddenly overwhelmed with homesickness. The face was a little rounder and a little more wrinkled around the eyes, but the resemblance was undeniable.


    "This is my wife, Empress Margaret of Avesnes," Emperor Louis IV said.


    "This is my daughter, Princess Joan," King Edward III said. "This is your mother''s sister. How do you do, my lady?"


    How jealous Isabella will be! thought Joan. She decided to write to her sister in the evening about the important day. She had before briefly met her father''s sisters, but they seemed not like him due to his clash with their mother. It felt so peculiar to meet her mother''s relative, especially with such an uncanny resemblance.


    Margaret introduced her children''s names, and Joan mentally took notes on her cousins. The adults talked amongst themselves while all the children remained silent until the time for formalities ended.


    At a sumptuous dinner that night, Joan sat beside Margaret as the two monarchs sat at the head of the table and talked in low whispers.


    "I must hear from you, Princess, all about my sister and how she is doing," the Empress said. She had the same slight accent as her mother, formed from their homeland as girls. Joan had never met anyone else from Hainault, so she had never thought about the accent belonging to more than just her own mother. Philippa talked sometimes about her childhood, but she was thoroughly English and devoted to her husband and children that Joan couldn''t picture her mother''s life before she was a child herself.


    Joan did her best to summarise all the details she knew about her mother, which didn''t feel like many. She had spent more time away from Philippa than with her from what she could remember, but Philippa never seemed cross or angry and never raised her voice to anyone. Joan recalled her gentle tone, her loving nature, her piety, her passion for music.


    "Yes, Philippa was very fond of playing the cittern," Margaret remarked. "And very talented at playing as well. She hasn''t changed much in the fifteen years since I''ve seen her."


    "That''s a long time!" Joan thought how one day, it would be the last day she ever saw Isabella. She frowned. Until this journey, she had spent every day of her life with her sister. Even then, she missed talking to her sister as they fell asleep. And one day would be the last day they ever saw each other.


    Margaret said, "it is our duty as daughters. She and I left our home and were married the same year. You love England as a girl, but one day you''ll love your husband''s country more. Even if your new country went to war with your old country, you will love your new land most of all, as that''s where your children will be born."


    It sounded daunting, but Joan didn''t doubt how much her mother loved England. She told her aunt that Philippa loved England and Edward very much.


    "As I love Louis and the Empire, and as I will guide my own daughters to do."


    "What about your sons?" Joan asked. She knew her brother would be king one day, and any future brothers would be granted their own lands and castles in England. They would all get to stay in their country.


    "The Holy Roman Emperor is determined by election from princes of the realm. Louis''s father was Duke of Bavaria. My sons may be dukes of the same land or who knows what they will be granted when they are old enough. Perhaps one will be elected Emperor in turn. As a mother and wife, I do what I can to ensure good relations with other leads in the Empire and outside of it."


    Joan found Margaret''s presence comforting and asked her for more stories about her mother''s girlhood. She couldn''t wait until she got back home to share all the stories she had learned with Isabella.

 Chapter X

    Over the next couple of weeks, Emperor Louis and King Edward solidified their joint alliance against King Philip VI of France. It was known that Philip protected the new Pope Benedict XII against interacting directly with the emperor. The emperor was unable to secure papal approval of his claim to the empire, so he had a Declaration at Rhense that a majority of electors could decide who was emperor without papal confirmation. Louis had long since thought France had too much influence on the southern HRE and on the Pope.


    Louis named Edward the Vicar-General of the HRE as a gesture of respect. Edward explained to Joan how it was an important title because the two leaders were now good friends. They had a common enemy but different goals: Edward to rule France and Louis to align with the Pope without France in the way.


    As summer drew to a close, Joan became restless to return home. She had thought the alliance was assured, but every day the Englishman and the Bavarian met privately for long stretches of time. Edward was very vague on what the meetings entailed.


    "You like it here, don''t you, Joan? Your Latin is very much improved and you''re picking up German very well," the king said one afternoon.


    "I suppose," Joan replied, although she wanted to return home but didn''t want to upset her father by telling him so.


    Because Louis couldn''t get in contact with the Pope, the Imperial Diet declared election by majority of electors automatically conferred the royal title and rule without papacy approval. It was now Edward and Louis against Philip and Benedict, with a lot of power over Europe at stake.


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    On one hot day late in the end of the summer season, Edward took Joan aside after breakfast.


    He knelt down beside her. "I have finished all the terms in my alliance with Louis. I must now go to Antwerp to negotiate an alliance with Jacob van Artevelde. He is a Flemish leader, so is of your mother''s sort of people. It''s important for that region to ally with me, as we have a good trade relationship. I have asked the queen your mother to travel there while she is able to. She will give me the guidance I need, and it has to be soon so that she can have the babe while I am negotiating and not while travelling."


    "Oh, we''re going to see Mother!" Joan beamed.


    There was a bit of a pause. "My dear, because I think Louis''s court has great benefit to you, and you shall continue your education in the empire. The empress will see over your education with her own children. You will have the greatest tutors in the realm." Edward looked off to the side.


    "I have to stay?" Joan had not considered being left behind. "For how long?"


    Edward paused for a moment. "I want you to do the best you can do to learn, and it would be best for you to remain here. I will leave Red Arrow in the stables so you can ride him when you''re old enough. Learn languages, learn how people interact with each other, and do your best to be dutiful to God and do as you are bid to help the empire. Helping the empire is helping England. You are my sweet daughter."


    The words slowly sank. She would not be returning to England, and her father would leave without her. She would remain alone in a strange country.


    "When will you come get me?" Joan asked.


    "That hasn''t been set in stone. For now, focus on learning everything you can."


    Joan began to cry, and her father wrapped his arms around her. She was just a child unable to process the long-term goals being asked of her. It was a quiet moment, but like all moments, it came to an end.


    Joan was left behind in a country that was not her own.


    Edward left with his entourage the next day, and soon after Joan left with the emperor and empress for their castle in Heidelberg.

 Chapter XI

    Autumn 1338, Heidelberg Castle, Heidelberg, Holy Roman Empire


    The travel to the castle was bleak, as hard as it was to travel from England but no excitement to reach the destination. Joan could barely bring herself to do more than look at her hands during the carriage ride. Spending so much time with her father had brought light into her life and suddenly everything felt very grey.


    She had no one to confide in. No shoulder to cry on. Above all else, even at her age she knew how much appearances mattered and how she had to bury her feelings deep within herself until they died away. She did not complain to her aunt and uncle nor any servant. At best, she could confide first in a diary then in carefully-worded letters back home.


    Joan rode the long travel in the carriage with the Empress. Louis rode on horseback out in front of the carriage with his guards, and she saw him very little in their journey through the German lands.


    The paths they rode down were often narrow and bumpy. The ensuing rocking made her feel ill. She looked out the window. The forests were thick with trees, mostly spruce, and very few open fields. The  carriage let in little light due to the dense canopy. The carriage felt small and growing smaller like it was closing in around them.


    Empress Margaret spoke often to fill the silence. She explained to her that the Holy Roman Empire didn''t have a capital the Emperor ruled from, but that he travelled across the entire empire in order to rule it, moving himself and often this family every few weeks or months to get each region''s insights. The empire was large, the largest in all of Europe, and the emperor needed to meet different region leaders to keep everyone informed and under his allegiance.


    She said that a Kaiserpfalz was any royal palace and that the royal family owned many. Kaiser + Pfalz meant royal and palace, and Joan remembered that Kaiser meant King from the card game she had learned. She had set her mind to learning the German language as she had been instructed. In the meanwhile, she conversed in Latin or French. Margaret did not speak English. No one she met along the way did.


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    The emperor and empress interacted with each other very little on the journey, Joan observed. She saw no affectionate gestures, no embraces between them. Margaret spent most of the journey talking to Joan about her children, and Louis didn''t talk to her at all.


    Once they arrived at Heidelberg Castle several days after the Imperial Diet ended, Joan sighed. Truly it was a beautiful red stone structure, towering over everything else in the landscape. The city was among mountains and dense green forests. Joan couldn''t enjoy it because it wasn''t her family castle. It was beautiful but empty for her, and she did not desire to live there even temporarily.


    Once they made their way inside, Empress Margaret introduced all of her children: Margaret, aged 13; Anna, aged 12; Louis, aged 10; Elisabeth, aged 9; William, aged 8; Agnes, aged 3; and Albert, aged 2. It was so much information to take in at once to remember all of their names. Joan learned that the Empress was Louis''s second wife, but his children from his first wife were married or at their own residences. All of his sons would be designated as Dukes of Bavaria upon Louis''s passing, as that was an inheritable title. The role of Emperor could go to any number of candidates when the time came.


    Joan felt confused by how things worked in the HRE. She had only learned from her experience that the eldest son gets the titles and land, but things were different there, and it wasn''t the only difference that Joan struggled to grasp.


    At supper on the first night, the family conversed quickly to each other in German, to which Joan couldn''t fully understand. She knew they were catching up on family matters and asked Joan very little about herself so all she could do was watch them talk. It was a long meal to which she felt like she was eating alone.


    At night, Joan shared a room with the princesses Anna and Elisabeth. The eldest Margaret was granted her own room. The girls were a bit older than her, and Agnes was a bit too young for her company and was still in the royal nursery with Albert.


    They giggled among themselves as they got ready for bed, but Joan couldn''t understand what they said. Joan asked them what they were talking about, and they giggled again before blowing out the candles and said not a word to her in a common language.


    It was a dark, lonely night. It felt like the night would never end, with a young girl all alone with her thoughts. Joan had always treated her English cousin as a sister. She wondered if Cousin Joanna ever felt left out because she was not a royal princess, and she hoped not. She had never felt so alone as being left out by her German cousins as she was that moonless night.

 Chapter XII

    One good news Joan found was that now that she was at a more permanent residence after visiting Coblenz, she could more easily send and receive letters. She sent letters to her family in England and eagerly awaited incoming mail. The nature of mail exchange meant weeks between letters or letters that were never received or delivered, but generally the Wittelbach family knew how long they would remain at each castle and what their next planned residence was to better forewarn the family where to send their correspondence.


    The first letter she read was not written for her, but it was to Empress Margaret and summarised that Queen Philippa had given birth to a healthy baby boy in Antwerp, Flanders named Lionel. Joan had longed to be a big sister, and it now seemed she may never meet her new brother. Joan immediately wrote back to her mother saying how lonely she was without her family.


    Margaret read the letter before it was sent and scolded her. "I''m sorry, Joan, I do not mean to read your correspondence, but as you are my new ward, I must insist on your tone improving. I know what it is like as a young princess sent away, but you must remember your duty for now is to your parents, and you don''t want to upset them, do you?"


    "No," Joan reluctantly admitted.


    "I am to guide you in diplomacy while you are here, and you shall rewrite the letter. I am sorry you are lonely, but a princess must harden her heart enough to think with her head. You are here by your father''s command to be educated. He does not want to hear anything but your success."


    Joan did want to make her parents proud.


    "You will have your own tutor in the morning, first thing you will learn is to be fluent in German, and then join my daughters to study Latin, then theology, and music lessons. Education is most important to me and your parents. Do not worry. I do not want to read through all of your letters. I trust you will think before you write. You can talk to me about your heartache, but don''t burden your family with things they cannot help with," Margaret said.


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    The boys had their own lessons, mostly separated from the princesses. The prince Louis was heir, and tall, prim, and quiet. He was brief in talking to Joan, but she didn''t see him talk to his sisters either. He was mostly only seen reading. He didn''t seem to act entitled to rule the way England''s heir did. Louis was also known as the Roman because he had been born there when his father was declared Emperor. The Roman contrasted his same named father, the Bavarian. He said he was not in Rome long enough to remember it. Empress Margaret talked about what a beautiful and bustling city it was, many more buildings practically on top of each other with narrow streets and hardly any trees.


    William was much more talkative to her in Latin, but sometimes he would start speaking quickly, too quick for Joan to follow, and then would abruptly get up and run off to talk to someone else without finishing a story. He was all over the place with dizzying abundance, unwilling to hold still long to learn or converse. She found him puzzling.


    Princess Margaret, the eldest daughter, shared some of her lessons with her brothers, which Joan felt so peculiar. At home, the prince always had his lessons alone.


    "We don''t learn with them because we''re lesser princesses," Anna said.


    "I wasn''t less than my sister," Joan said. Her father had brought her to meet the emperor, hadn''t he? He had chosen her to represent the family in the HRE. She and Isabella were equals.


    "Everyone is in a hierarchy, and there is no such thing as fair." Anna laughed, then focused back to their own lesson.


    Soon, Emperor Louis continued his Frankfurt Diet. Louis had been elected emperor and was crowned in Rome where he had met the Pope years earlier. Joan had never heard of an elected leader nor met anyone who had met God''s earthly representative. She wanted to learn more about the Pope, but the Emperor was dismissive of the inquiry.


    The empire was at a head with the Pope, and Louis continued to meet with regional representatives, tired of Papal interference in Louis''s claim to the empire. The Pope, who had long since lived in Rome, now held court in Avignon, France. He was loyal to the French king when he should have been impartial to mortal politics.


    Joan prayed for her English family, for her new family, and for mainland Europe''s tensions to end. She wanted her father to get his lands in France without angering the Pope. There were too many angry men with armies to fight for them.

 Chapter XIII

    Winter 1338, Frankfurt Castle, Frankfurt am Main, Holy Roman Empire


    Joan had not forgotten about her gifted horse, Red Arrow, that her father left in her care. But as the days grew shorter and colder, it was harder to go visit the stables to see him. When the weather was acceptable, she would ask to go down to pet his nose and give him a carrot. There was no horse riding in winter, and even so Red Arrow was a beast and too big for a child, according to both the Empress and the stable master. But the horse had known her father and was a tenable link to him, so she tried her best to keep him company even if she could not ride him.


    He usually whinnied when she approached, as he had gotten accustomed to his afternoon visit and treat. She promised to ride him when she was able to. Sometimes she would sit outside his stable in the grass to be alone for a while or brush him if shecwas able to get inside the stall. The stable master warned her of a horse''s powerful kick, but she did not fear Red Arrow. She stayed outsidevas long as she could stand the cooler temperature.


    Inside the castle where it was warmer, Prince William was a whirlwind of energy, running up and down corridors. Joan raced him on occasion until Margaret stopped her. It was thrilling to let some energy out.


    "It is unladylike to run like that," the Empress scolded. "My son is like this in the cool months. He can''t run about outside. Louis is the calm and William the storm. They are such opposites. But I know you are a calmer girl, so I will insist you don''t run inside even if I can''t stop William."


    Joan''s German skills were picking up to where she could have simple conversations, but Anna and Elisabeth still mostly only spoke to each other.


    Joan tried to focus on lessons, including diplomacy. There were the hard lessons on how laws and cultures differed and how one must try to unite differences for a common goal with tact and reason. Then there were the soft lessons that Joan had gauge for herself.


    Her cousins didn''t care for her, but she wanted them to care for her. She greeted the royal children daily even if their responses were to ignore her or with polite indifference. Her only consistent touch of humanity were letters she received, mostly from her mother, then next from Cousin Joanna, then less from Isabella, then an occasional letter from her brother Edward, although she imagined he was told to send them because they were brief and perfunctory. She did not receive letters from her father, but her mother explained the King was very busy and also had poor penmanship, so was not fond of writing. Spending time writing her family back made the cold, short days pass by faster.


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    One day as she went into the study to greet Prince Louis, she saw a deck of cards on the table.


    "Oh, you play?" she exclaimed.


    He didn''t look up from his book. "My tutor must have left them."


    Joan flipped through the cards, seeing the familiar images. "The king, the Pope, the Devil, and Karn?ffel. Oh, please, play!"


    "Games are a waste of time," the Roman said, but Joan ran to the door to go find the lesser sisters. They were sewing quietly in the drawing room.


    "Play Karn?ffel?" Joan said, using brief words as her German was still limited.


    "Play?" Elisabeth said.


    "Come!"


    Perhaps out of curiosity, the girls followed her back to Louis''s study. Joan sat across from, Louis and Anna and Elisabeth sat across from each other. Joan quickly went over the rules as she remembered them. Louis clarified some things for the rules and words she didn''t know.


    "I have played before," he said, but the girls hadn''t been included in those games.


    They played one round, and then two more. They were not keeping close scores, but laughing in surprise when someone pulled out a trump card. Even Louis smiled. They played until they were interrupted to go to lessons.


    It was something they could do without much talking, but it was the first time Joan had felt somewhat German herself, speaking it among her peers and playing their game with them. Lessons felt easy and enjoyable for the rest of the day.


    At bedtime, Anna reached out to Joan for the first time. She asked, "so, which do you prefer now, Louis or William?"


    "Prefer?"


    "To marry," Elisabeth explained. "That''s why you''re here, for our alliance. You will probably be married to one of them."


    "Oh." Joan had not thought about them that way. They were just two boys she had to deal with until-- "Am I never going home?"


    She had made due to bear the empire as long as she had to, but it hadn''t occurred to her that it could be the rest of her life. Why hadn''t anyone told her when she left England that she would not return? Maybe the goodbyes would have been different if she knew she would never be back.


    Anna shrugged. "If the alliance is important, you''ll get Louis and maybe be empress one day. If Father finds someone more important to ally with, you''ll get William, so pray for the better match so you don''t get stuck with him." The sisters giggled.


    Joan did pray as she did every night, but she couldn''t quite pray for any future husband. She just couldn''t reconcile that just yet. All she wanted was to see her parents again.


    She also knew it didn''t matter who she preferred. No one who decided these things would think to even ask her if she did have a preference. She would have to marry whoever she was told to marry, preferred or not. Being a princess had many wonderful privileges, but the biggest obligation was to marry whomever was decided outside of her own wants.

 Chapter XIV

    Spring 1339, Marburg Castle, Hess, Holy Roman Empire


    Card games continued through the winter, even though Empress Margaret disapproved, she didn''t stop them. The children played the mainstay game and some new ones a bit at nighttime. Sometimes Princess Margaret joined in but usually said that she had more important things to attend to. Sometimes William played but got bored of sitting still for periods of time. Joan sometimes played with the younger royal children but only very simple games the older children weren''t interested in. Joan loved all kinds of games, and it let her spend time and socialize with her cousins on a common ground.


    As Joan became more comfortable with their language, she felt less and less homesick. She found German similar enough to English that being immersed in it made it easier to learn. It became strange to even write letters in English, and more often she elected to write in Latin to practise since her parents and sister were all fluent in understanding it. She began to think more about becoming a German (technically Bavarian) duchess, and if this was a land she could see adapting as her own.


    She told the Empress that she''d like to be the empress herself someday.


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    "Ah, it is still unknown if you could be an empress or not," Empress Margaret said. "It is still being decided how you should become a permanent part of the Wittelbach family. Becoming empress is up to a council to decide."


    "Teach me anyway," Joan insisted.


    Margaret did agree and spent some lesson time instructing her how one could be a good queen and wife, the geography of the realm, the local customs across the wide territories, and how to guide royal children. Joan learned their native dances, their styles of dressing, their way of doing prayers, and even about the local flora and fauna throughout the realm. She wanted to learn the land if it was going to be her land one day.


    Joan found herself looking forward to seeing Empo Margaret daily the way she looked forward to spending time with her own mother. The lessons with her were more engaging than fro, any of the other official tutors. If she dwelled on it, she felt a constant deep ache for her own mother. Joan had to remind herself she was doing her duty to both of her parents, and they would only be proud of her if she didn''t complain about missing them.


    She cried sometimes when she thought about how she may never see her parents again. Margaret told her ladies only cried to themselves in their bedchambers, but that they must put on a brave face for everyone else to see. She said she didn''t even cry in front of her husband.


    "Life is a performance, but we all get sad," Margaret said, and so Joan obeyed and cried only when she was alone.


    If Joan had to be in a new home, she would have to prove to herself she could make the best of it.

 Chapter XV

    As the snow slowly melted and the grass grew again, Joan started visiting Red Arrow and now asked if she finally could ride him.


    "Joan, you don''t even know how to ride!" Margaret cried. "To think of learning to ride on such a beast. But you will take lessons with my children on smaller horses first, then we''ll see about the stallion one day."


    Joan clapped her hands together. She couldn''t disagree that Red Arrow was a large horse, and she was frightened of falling from him. The idea of riding any horse was exciting, and it was one lesson Margaret had agreed to that sounded enjoyable.


    The royal stables had a collection of palfreys - small, gentle horses perfect for first time riders. The oberstallmeister was the Emperor''s master of horse and in charge of the entire equerry. For a few weeks, he taught Joan how to walk and trot at a steady speed. It soon felt as natural to ride as it was to walk.


    The princesses who knew how to ride practised their own more advanced moves while Joan learned the basics. As her skills improved, they all took their palfreys out for strolls in the countryside. The air was brisk, but it felt nice being out in the sun for some time. It reminded her of when she and Isabella would pick wildflowers in the field outside of their castle.


    She had written to her sister and asked if there were any marriage plans for her or if she knew anything about Joan''s plans. She was anxious to know if she had been promised to either Wittelsbach brother. Isabella wrote back she hadn''t heard about marriage plans for anyone. Isabella mentioned that Prince Edward was guardian of the kingdom while the king was away and how she wished for the king''s quick return.


    Oh dear! thought Joan. She shuddered to think of her brother in charge of the whole country.


    Joan thought about her marriage options. Which brother did she prefer? The ultimate decision would be made entirely without her input, but she couldn''t help but daydream a response as she spent more time with each boy.


    Louis the Roman was quiet, studious, and learned. As the days got longer and air got warmer, the two of them sat in the large-windowed study room. Usually, they sat silently together as she embroidered, and he read. One day, he told her he had a surprise for her. He brought out a board with two colours of figurines.


    "I would like to teach you something. It''s only a game for two. This game is called chess," Louis said. "Each piece moves differently, but they are all there to protect the king."


    "Just like in real life," Joan observed.


    "It is. We will both try to guard our king and both try to take down each other''s kings. Think ahead to what you expect me to do and what you will do three moves from now."


    At first, the games ended rather quickly. Joan found it difficult to plan more than a move ahead, and Louis advanced to her king before she was prepared.


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    "You must think like a king," the Roman said. "Start by saying it. Say you are the king."


    "What an odd thing to say!" she exclaimed.


    "Say it."


    "I am the king!" Joan burst out laughing. Truly it was the first time she had laughed since she last saw her father. "I am no more than a pawn here," she said, gesturing to herself.


    "You are a king here," Louis said, to the board. "But someone''s queen one day."


    Joan blushed. He looked at her with deep soulful eyes. She could be his queen someday! Was he thinking it too?


    The moment was interrupted by Louis''s tutors and yet Joan''s heart raced for some time after.


    It was not as clear cut as Joan would have surmised. For one evening shortly after, Joan went out to the stables to visit Red Arrow. How she wished to ride him, but she was too small still and could never mount him without help.


    "Boo!"


    A voice startled her, and she spun around to see William had followed her to the stables.


    "Let''s saddle the horses and go ride," he said.


    "But the oberstallmeister isn''t here."


    "So? I''ve seen him do it a million times." Before she could object further, William went to the stalls of the palfreys and started to prepare them to ride.


    Part of her, always a rule abider, felt uneasy standing and watching. The other part was eagerness to see what would happen. William brought the first horse out and helped her get on it and he did the same.


    "Race you to that tree," William said.


    "Race?" Joan had never done more than a trot, but she saw William tap his food against the palfrey''s side and it began to gallop, so having seemingly no choice, Joan followed and galloped after him. She couldn''t believe the speed she could reach, the wind blowing in her face, her dress billowing behind her. She yelled out simply to hear her voice muddled by the wind. There were no occasions where she was permitted to be loud, so she used her window of opportunity to holler as she pleased.


    "I win!" William proclaimed.


    "You had a head start!" Joan protested. She laughed, her heart still racing. "Are you ever afraid you''ll get in trouble?"


    "No," he said. "What''s the worst my parents will do, lock me up somewhere? Everyone in my family is so mannered, and they''re boring. I want to enjoy life. God didn''t intend for us to sit inside and pray the days away. He made this field, He made these horses, and He gave us the ability to learn how to ride them, didn''t He?"


    "I never thought about it," Joan admitted.


    "It is our God-given right to enjoy ourselves. You must stop thinking so much and feel more. Race back? We will go at the same time."


    "Well, we do have to go back, so we might as well do it quickly," Joan said. She counted down from 3, and they took off together.


    This time she was prepared, and only narrowly lost to him. By the time William was tired of riding, they put the palfreys back and no one was the wiser. Joan had never intentionally broken a rule before, and she was surprised by her own lack of guilt about it.


    It was the most she had ever let loose and had fun because she wasn''t thinking about rules and proprietary. True, William was the younger brother and therefore less likely to get a good inheritance, but when she was alone, she wondered what it would be like to be his wife. Maybe having a life focused on enjoyment rather than strict guidelines may not be so bad after all.


    The House of Wittelsbach had two interesting princes. Joan became very fond of both.

 Chapter XVI

    Summer 1339, Royal Palace, Dresdon, Holy Roman Empire


    By late in the summer, Joan realised it had been a full year since she had last seen her father and seen her home country. Initially, the homesickness ache overwhelmed her for the first few weeks, an unbearable weight that felt like it was crushing her, until it slowly lifted and there were days she didn''t even think about her homeland.


    She had embraced her new German land and finally started to feel a part of it. She had spent a good deal of time with all of her cousins that they truly felt like her family now. They included her in conversations and games. Margaret and to a lesser extent Louis filled in for some parental affection.


    Joan remembered what her parents and her sister and brother looked like, but the details felt less sharp in her mind. She had no images of them, only her memory, and a year was a long time for a child. She wondered if she would forget what they looked like and if they forgot her. They had not entirely, as she still got letters from them, but she wondered if she was out of their hearts.


    At summer''s end, Joan walked down a corridor and saw Elisabeth, Louis, and William outside a partially closed door. They waved her close. Inside, Joan heard raised voices and quietly listened in.


    "I will not marry a child!" Anna shouted.


    "John has become Duke of Lower Bavaria upon his father''s death and the best way for Lower Bavaria to stay loyal to me and one day be united to Upper Bavaria is to have a House of Wittelsbach duchess sitting next to him," Emperor Louis said. "He is not yet ten but he is Duke nonetheless. The timing is what it is. You are 13, so his age is still close to yours."


    "Am I meant to consummate on the wedding night with the child Duke?" Anna asked.


    "Child, don''t be vulgar."


    "Can''t the marriage wait until we''re both older?"


    "No. His mother is cunning, and she''ll put her own Luxembourg family ahead of ours when making a match. He''s young and must be influenced by loyalty to me alone. If John''s father hadn''t died now, it could wait, but now it has happened, it cannot."


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    "Why am I being married first if I''m the second eldest?" Anna asked.


    "Because Bavaria is important. But not important enough to use Margaret."


    There was a distinct silence. Joan couldn''t see Anna''s face, but she felt a sting in her own heart. Anna had called herself a lesser princess because her father treated her as such.


    "They''re coming," Prince Louis whispered. Everyone outside the door scattered to make it seem as if they had not been listening to the private conversation. Anna said nothing when she came out and walked to her bed chamber.


    "Should we talk to her?" Joan asked.


    "No, let her mourn alone," Elisabeth said.


    By that evening, an official announcement of the betrothal was made. Anna was stoic in front of court, her face blank like a statue. Everyone in attendance applauded.


    At night, the usually fiery-tempered princess said little and openly cried in bed.


    Joan wanted to make her feel better. "At least he is German, like you," Joan said. "You speak the same language. You have the same traditions. Your family will travel to your castle."


    "They won''t," Anna said.


    "We''ll write to you," Elisabeth added. "The Duke may be very nice. He might be a good husband. He will listen to you because you''re older than him. You can tell him what to do, and then when he''s bigger than you, he''ll still listen."


    Anna didn''t say anything else as they all went to sleep.


    Within a couple days, Anna''s things were prepared for her journey. She wore a beautiful velvet and fur-trimmed gown and had a tall conical hennin headdress attached to white veils for her final appearance as the emperor''s maiden daughter.


    Unfortunately, only weeks earlier, Empress Margaret went into confinement for another childbirth. She was kept away in her own quarters, and Anna could neither visit her to say goodbye nor could word be given lest it disturb the Empress. The health of the baby meant no stress could be put upon the Empress. She would be informed that Anna was betrothed and sent away until after the birth occurred.


    The rest of the family said farewell to the beautifully dressed bride-to-be for the last time. Anna wordlessly boarded her carriage and didn''t look back as her family waved goodbye.


    Despite how good her life was compared to so many less fortunate, Joan saw her own life being sent away was the same. Blacksmiths'' daughters and shepherds'' daughters never moved far away from their families. They even had a little say in a choice for a husband.


    Sometimes she wished she had been a peasant girl. Fine dresses didn''t seem like enough at times like this.

 Chapter XVII

    Autumn 1339, Northern France


    King Edward''s army landed on French shores, ready to fight against France. It was his inheritance to rule France as the grandson of Philip IV. War was hard and long, and after every battle he felt no closer to the war ending. Despite any setbacks, he was prepared to fight for France until the day he died if he had to. But he had support from the Holy Roman Emperor and from several of Northern Europe, so he felt optimistic. He instilled in his son every time he saw him that France was their birthright. He made the prince swear to continue the cause during his reign if Edward could not secure France during his own life.


    Even though Salic law prevented women from inheriting the throne in France, he argued that the inheritance could still pass through a woman. He wasn''t advocating for his mother to become Queen of France, but he was the only direct descendent of the last king. The throne should always pass to the nearest male descendent, and he was the nephew of Charles IV. Instead of Edward, the closest, the French nobility preferred to defect from the House of Capet and begin the House of Valois to the former king''s cousin. Initially, Edward didn''t want to cause a stir and supported his first cousin once removed. Once he saw what a poor king Philip VI was, he pushed for his own claim. He knew in his heart he was a better leader for the French people.


    As the English made camp in Cambrai, he expected manpower from the counts from Hainault and Namur. Cambrai was in France, but the disputed lands were currently a free city of the Holy Roman Empire. To please his Bavarian brethren, Edward chose to seize Cambrai to end any threats from Philip VI of France and his allies John I of Bohemia, Philip III of Navarre, Aymon the Count of Savoy, Humbert II of Viennois and King Alfonso XI of Castile and Leon.


    Edward had remained on the continent for more than a year and spent most of the time in Flanders forming alliances after he placed his daughter Joan in the Emperor''s care. After many negotiations, Edward expected his allies to help him support the siege of Cambrai for the greater good of their unified cause. As he waited at camp, a messenger met him to say that the counts were still allies, but they had lands to lose if they directly battled the French and had decided they could not take the risk and declared neutrality.


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    "Damnation!" the king bellowed. "Curse those cowards!"


    Nevertheless, he knew he had God on his side, he commanded his army forward. God may have been on his side, but wars cost money, and he had already spent a fortune trying to claim what was his. Without his allies'' help, Edward would have to rely only on the supplies they had packed on their own ships.


    "Forward," he commanded, and so the army moved forward.


    It was slow-moving, marching until finally they finally came upon a clearing with the French army up high on a hill.


    "At last," Edward said. "We just need to draw their army down from on high and fight us on equal footing."


    Edward''s army waited. Edward could not fight them while they had the advantageous position. Despite waiting days, the French army made no attempt to leave the hill, and Edward''s advisors reminded him of their limited supplies.


    Angry but needing to be practical, the English turned back once Edward saw there was no clear path to victory. Conquering France could wait. It would take as long as it needed to take.


    When he was abroad, he almost never thought of his family. Travel was hard, setting up encampments was hard, wielding a weapon, killing soldiers was hard and so was risking his own life on the battlefield. If he dwelled on his wife, on his children, perhaps his determination would waiver.


    He knew deep in his bones his cause was righteous, but he was still a man who had heartaches just as any other. To combat this, he had others write letters back to England to update his status and give any advice needed on ruling in his absence. He tried to only think of his family in a general sense when he said his nightly prayers. He prayed for their health and safety, but he could not dwell on missing them the way any father and husband would miss their family, but he had to remain focused for his long absences away. He could not write to them all to say he missed them, or he would waiver and abandon his own cause to be with them again, so he masked his own loneliness to write only about his military successes.


    Because of this, the king never once sent a letter directly to Princess Joan. It was not because he missed her, but he didn''t want to miss her too much by putting his heartache into words. All Joan knew was that her father abandoned her and sent not a word of affection.

 Chapter XVIII

    Winter 1340, Gaunt, Flanders


    King Edward assumed the official title of King of France while at the Flemish court. The Flemish had signed a treaty that they would not attack the French king, so they insisted he had to officially assume the title, and they would still be honouring their treaty by recognizing him as the true king. Through the traditional ceremony of receiving their official crown, being anointed with holy oil, and adding the fleur de lis to his own coat of arms, he took on the full look of someone outwardly reigning over both countries.


    Any of the Flemish who had had scruples fighting King Philip disappeared when after the ceremony, they agreed King Edward was the rightful king, and that they officially declared their armies to him. Edward needed all the allies he could get.


    Spring 1340, Imperial Castle, Cochem, Holy Roman Empire


    Princess Joan received two letters in quick succession. Firstly, her mother had given birth to another son, named John, while she was in Gaunt, Flanders. It was her second child born outside of England as Philippa was in diplomatic business. Joan wondered when this dreadful war would end so that her mother could rest and return home. Like Margaret taught her, she dutifully wrote back, calling her brother''s birth a blessing and that she prayed for mother and child and kept any negative thoughts out of the letter. She thought if her mother truly objected to being abroad, she would tell the King, and the King would respect her wishes.


    The second letter was from her cousin Joanna and much longer --


    Dear Princess Joan,


    Oh, Cousin! I hope you are well. I must tell someone a big secret. No one knows what has happened. I hope even this letter finds you well, and you keep me in your prayers if my actions go awry.


    You know your brother, the prince, often threatened to marry me whether or not I wanted to, and I do not want to. I know I could not deny him if he publicly declared intentions, and my mother would also pressure me to be queen. Until now, I haven''t ever been free of that worry. But now I have married!


    You would like him. His name is Thomas Holland. He''s tall with brown hair and very charming. He''s a little older than me, and he''s a baron. He is on military duty now, so he has travelled to fight. He has just left me to go to Flanders and France on behalf of the King. I am so beside myself in worry, and so in love with him! I pray your father wins his lands, and he and my husband are safe when this is all over.


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    I blush as I write this part. I am truly a woman now. I cannot do justice to what nights with him are like in a letter, and it wouldn''t be appropriate because you are a maid. But it is such a joy to be someone''s wife. There is so much love and happiness with him.


    I know because I am of royal blood, I was supposed to ask permission to marry, and I did not. I know Prince Edward wouldn''t have allowed me to marry someone else, and I fear your father would have agreed to whatever he wanted to keep him happy. I am scared of what will happen when this news comes out -- but it was the right thing to do. No matter how much power the Prince yields, not even he can undo what was done before God himself. I will take whatever punishment I must when my marriage is discovered, and it is worth it because I was able to marry the man I love.


    Please do not tell anyone of this, not a soul, and please pray for my husband Thomas while he is in Europe. I miss him dearly and wish to be reunited with him as soon as possible.


    Love,


    Your dearest cousin Jonna


    -


    Joan folded the letter and put it in her bureau where it would be unlikely for someone to come across it. She would honour her cousin''s wishes for secrecy. She tried to picture her cousin married. Joanna still seems like a child, like she was, but Joanna was about the same age as Anna, and Anna was now married also. She really wasn''t too young to marry, but she was too noble to decide to marry whom she wanted. Joan pictured her brother''s fury. He was quick to anger and quick to decide once he wanted something, it belonged to him.


    When Elisabeth came to look for her, Joan didn''t mention the contents of the letter. They went to their music lesson. Since Anna had left for her marriage, Joan had grown closer to her other cousin because it was just the two of them. They did all their lessons together, and Elisabeth felt as close as her true sister Isabella had. Previously Anna and Elisabeth used to giggle and whisper to each other at night, and now it was Elisabeth and Joan who shared the personal jokes and the closeness.


    But that was her old life when she was bonded close to Isabella, and being with Elisabeth made her heart ache less for her blood sister. Joan felt at home in the Holy Roman Empire the longer she remained. She felt welcomed into the family once she learned enough of the language to be in their meal conversations.


    She did wish she could ask Joanna more about her new life and marriage, but she was scared to write back in detail in case the letter ended up in the wrong hands. So instead, her letter back was very generic, thanking Joanna for sharing her news and wishing her well and assuring her that her letter contents would remain confidential.


    Joan would not even speculate her cousin''s fate once it was discovered she married without permission. A girl trying to take her fate into her own hands could be a dangerous thing.

 Chapter XIX

    One late spring day, Joan''s world turned upside down.


    She was sewing with her cousin in their room on a rainy morning when the Empress approached them. "Joan, I must speak to you alone." Joan looked over at Elisabeth, who shrugged. Joan put down her needle and thread and stood up.


    Joan followed Margaret down the hallway into one of the Empress''s public rooms. "I have some good news. You must pack your all things immediately. Your family is recalling you back home," Empress Margaret said.


    The words didn''t process for a moment. "My family?" Somehow she had gotten used to her German kin being her family and didn''t understand at first. The news didn''t register as good news.


    "Yes, we will send an escort with you to meet your mother in Gaunt. She wants to see you as soon as you are able to arrive," Empress Margaret said.


    "Oh...but why?"


    "It is on your father''s request," she said simply.


    "But what about the alliance? My marriage to one of your sons?" Joan asked.


    "Alliances don''t always work out." Empress Margaret leaned down and hugged Joan. "I will be sorry to see you go, but I know you will love to be with your parents again. As women, we have no choice in our lives but what we''re told to do. My husband the Emperor can have an alliance with England or with the Pope. He cannot have both. And so, you will go home because the alliance between England and the Holy Roman Empire is no more. I will miss you, sweet girl, but your home is no longer with us. Send my sister my regards."


    It had been a long two years she had been living in the Holy Roman Empire. Two years was a very long time for someone who was not yet seven. She had grown used to the idea that she would make her life in German lands, and suddenly she was told that she would never see her new family again.


    Thinking of her lessons, she silently thanked the Empress for all that she had taught her and her generous hospitality. She curtsied and asked if she was excused, and Margaret let her go. There was no use complaining that she hadn''t even been given a choice, and maybe she would choose to stay if anyone asked.


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    Joan spent the afternoon alone, mostly looking out the window to process returning to England. Much like when Anna left, her cousins let her alone while she came to terms with her future. She had tried so hard to get used to German customs, and now she was being ripped away like a flower being ripped up by the root from the earth.


    Her things were packed over the next couple of days. Joan said goodbye to Elisabeth, who would now be alone in their room with Joan and her sister Anna gone and with no one left to gossip with as she fell asleep. She said goodbye to the Emperor and Empress, who were courteous, but they kept any other emotions to themselves other than polite formality. Joan knew ultimately Emperor Louis was behind her leaving, but it wouldn''t have done her any good to say any ill words to him or ask him why he no longer honoured his alliance to her father. That was all beyond her understanding. Joan said she would pray for their well-being for them and their children, and they wished for God to watch over her travels.


    And what broke her heart most was saying goodbye to both the princes, Louis and William. She would never marry either of them, even if she''d let her heart hope for one day that she would. They were both so different from each other, but she admired both of them and their spirit to follow their own natures. She knew they''d forget her eventually, and she might even forget them by the time her father decided a new match for her. Yet her heart ached as this pathway that she would now never go down.


    Within a few days of the declaration, all of her belongings were packed, an entourage was gathered, and Joan decided to leave with grace and no tears. She dressed in her best dress lined with fur to leave a nice lasting memory to the House of Wittelsbach so that they would look back fondly on her and hopefully on England.


    "I must bring Red Arrow. He belonged to my father," Joan insisted before she left. She doubted her father even remembered the horse, but it was her only bond to her past, and now it would be a reminder of her time in the Holy Roman Empire.


    Margaret objected that a child needed such a large horse but eventually relented as long as someone else rode it. Once she was with her mother, the queen would decide when Joan was allowed to ride him. "Don''t forget all you''ve learned here," the Empress said in a soft voice. "You are much wiser as you''ve grown here. You may not know it yet, but being with us has been good for you, and I am proud of you, Princess Joan."


    "Thank you," Joan said, even though her heart was breaking for a second time in a short life. Margaret had been a surrogate mother to her for two years, and that wasn''t easy to leave. They hugged tightly before Joan entered the carriage that would take her to her mother.


    Joan held her head high as she left the royal family and didn''t cry until hours into her journey.

 Chapter XX

    Spring 1340, en route to Gaunt, Flanders


    Her entourage travelled north for two weeks until they reached the province of Flanders. Travel was long and boring, but she was much more comfortable in a carriage than an average traveller. Most people who travelled for necessity or religious pilgrimage were mostly on foot or on horseback if they could afford it. Both were decidedly less comfortable than a carriage. Most people were never more than twenty miles from where they were born. Joan knew how privileged she was and what responsibilities went with that. She had nice things and great comfort, and thus she would marry a stranger when the time came.


    She was surrounded by armed soldiers. Thus, she had no fear of highwaymen looking to rob passersby the way most people feared when they went down open roads far from any towns. She had no fear of new lands, only a tinge of anxiety about what would happen next in her life. There was not much to look at except trees and mountains. They travelled from mid-morning until dusk on most days, pausing only to rest the horses and eat light meals. She mostly passed the time by sewing, but some parts of the road were bumping and hard to hold her hands still, and even in the best of times it wasn''t enjoyable to sit still and slightly move her fingers for hours on end.


    By all accounts, she felt no apprehension travelling to unknown lands the way she had when she first came to the Holy Roman Empire. At some point, the forest looked the same as the day before, the hills looked the same, all the villages held the same people, whether they be German, Bavarian, Austrian, or Flemish. Even passing through Hainault, her mother''s homeland, seemed to blend in as the same as all the others.


    When they finally arrived in Gaunt, however, Joan was struck by how big the city was, perhaps bigger than any city outside of London that she had visited. The cobblestone streets were full of merchants -- many trading and selling wool and textiles (the lifelines of the region) but even fish imported from the coast, fresh fruits, and fine goods such as glass, jewellery, furs, and wines. Boisterous voices haggling or selling filled her ears after so many long days of only birds chirping and wooden wheels mulling down dirt paths.


    Joan wasn''t allowed to linger in the streets to see any of these goods. People looked at her carriage and stopped what they were doing. Recognizing the royal insignia, the men removed hats, and people silently bowed. They couldn''t see her inside. They just saw the power of a fine carriage and a dozen uniformed men on horseback charging into town. She wished she could briefly step out and look around, but they continued to their destination without pause.


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    The head of the entourage, the ambassador of the Empire, led them straight to the Gravensteen. It was the castle residence of the Count of Flanders. They arrived at a towering donjon, the entrance to the estate. Gravensteen was large, but Joan had seen many castles, and this seemed just as nice as any ones the Emperor owned. She was glad to be on her feet again and out in the sun as she stood outside the castle, ready to go inside.


    Her heart was racing. She had resolved to maintain a cool indifference when she saw the mother who must have known she was being sent away for such a long time and didn''t tell her. But now as the gates were lowered, her dedication to any icy demeanour melted away. She had two years to wonder why she was sent away and why her parents did it, that lingering hurt never healing out of her heart.


    She wandered up the stone stairs through the grand entrance. It was dim inside even though candles were lit everywhere. She slowly treaded down a long coordinator until she reached the Count''s throne. A man in fine cotehardie jewelled around the neck and a crown stood up. "Welcome, Princess Joan," the man said. "I am Jacob van Artevelde, the leader here in Flanders."


    As Joan returned the greeting, her eyes focused on the woman in the green gown next to him. Her longstanding heartache was overwhelmed by relief at the recognition.


    "Oh, Mother!" Joan cried.


    Joan ran forward, and her mother, holding a blanket, ran as quickly towards her. "Oh, darling! It is so good to see you. Look," Queen Phillippa held forward her arms to reveal an infant. "This is your baby brother, John, only a month old. Oh, Joan, you are a big sister."


    The babe reached out his hand, and Joan kissed his forehead. He grabbed onto her hair before she gently pulled away. "Oh, I love him," Joan said. Her mother passed the bundle to her. Her brother had such big blue eyes and tufts of blond hair but mostly bald. She adored him right away as he reached his hand out to grab onto her necklace.


    "You have grown so much, my child," the queen said. Joan''s anger at abandonment melted away with just one warm motherly gaze. She felt home in her heart.


    "I missed you so much," Joan said.


    "I missed you too. You have been so brave away from home these last few years. Braver than I would have been. Braver than any of your siblings. But now you are back with your family," Philippa said.


    Joan beamed. She didn''t want to ever be out of her mother''s sight again.

 Chapter XXI

    Philippa and Joan spent all afternoon catching up about the two years they were apart. They had sent letters, but Joan felt the freedom to unload more personal thoughts that the Empress thought were improper to put in formal letters.


    Joan thought how similar Queen Philippa looked to Empress Margaret. It seemed like her mother, who had a rounder face and more piercing eyes than her sister, hadn''t aged a day since Joan had last seen her. Yet Joan felt much more grown and not like the girl she was when she left England. She wondered if her mother could perceive the difference.


    The queen had had two children since Joan left England. She had gone back and forth from England to the Low Countries to champion her husband''s cause. Joan had grown more and changed one mother figure to another and now back again. She had ached to see her mother again, and now she missed Margaret whom she would likely never see again.


    "I miss Margaret too," Philippa said. "I likely will never see her, and letters are never the same. That''s just our lot in life. Once you marry, your new family will be your husband and children, and your old family will become secondary. There''s no way to value both equally. Do not worry about it now. Keep in contact as you can, and hope fate will bring you back to the people you left if it is meant to be that way."


    Joan felt alone. A person without a country. A person who had to be guarded against love because she would be pulled away from anyone she ever loved with no notice. She wore beautiful things, she had an amazing education, and every day she woke up never knowing what was coming to her.


    Their host, who was the resident of the castle, was not the Count of Flanders. He was a statesman who had risen up to be a political leader named Jacob van Artevelde. He was a wealthy wool merchant. He had not been born to rule, but he gained power and respect from his peers when the old Count fled town.


    "How peculiar," Joan remarked. She had not heard of a ruler who ruled not because his father was ruler, but because he gained support on his own merits.


    Jacob van Arteveld was average in height with wide, squared off shoulders. He had a thick, bushy beard that he stroked while others talked. There was something rougher about his appearance than the king and emperor she had met. Unlike the emperor, he talked to her more directly and listened closely as she answered. At first, she had been startled by his mannerisms, but she felt acknowledged by an adult like she hadn''t been before. He did not ascribe to the notion that children were only intended to be seen and not heard.


    At dinner, Joan sat near the head of the table with her mother. Jacob van Artevelde asked how she liked the Holy Roman Empire.


    She thought for a moment. "There were more forests and more mountains and hills than in England. There were some rivers but no sea. It was very pretty and many of the castles were as nice as the ones I was used to."


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    "And how did you like the Emperor?" van Artevelde asked.


    Joan sensed she should be careful with her words as she wasn''t sure if Louis was well-liked in Flanders or not. "He is very smart," she said.


    "The Emperor allied with your father against the false French King Philip VI. But Philip is the protector of the Pope who now lives in France. And Emperor Louis wants to be allied with the Pope more than he wants to do right to recognize your father as the true king of France. Philip and Pope Benedict XII go hand in hand. And that is why you are here now, because Louis reneged on his alliance," van Artevelde explained.


    "Oh," Joan said. She didn''t understand why someone would give their word and then take it back. She didn''t understand why she would have to stay with Louis''s family for years for it not to mean anything.


    "Do you know what happened to the Count of Flanders who used to live here?" the statesman asked her.


    Joan said she did not.


    "The Count was very pro-France and supportive of the false king Philip VI. The Count faced rebellion and asked Philip for help, to which Philip said if the Count needed to be rescued from a future rebellion, France would incorporate Flanders into its kingdom. The rest of us citizens did not want to become French so that a poor Count could hold onto power."


    "I see,"


    "I am a wool merchant, as are many here. Flanders sells much more wool to England than France, and your father the King would not buy wool if Flanders favoured France. That hurt me and my family while the Count chose personal relationships over his people''s best interest. Because of England''s boycott, I led a large group against the Count, who fled his lands because he would not agree to our terms. Now I rule here as I know Edward is the true king of France. We are friends to England, but we do not wish to lose our independence."


    Joan thought for a moment. "Is Father close to the French throne?"


    "Closer," Jacob van Artevelde said, stroking his beard. "But there is so much yet to do."


    Joan sighed. It seemed like Edward''s quest would never end.


    Later that evening, Philippa spent time in Joan''s room as she got ready for bed and said her prayers. She asked her mother about what was next for both of them. All she had been told was she was going to Flanders but not for how long or where to next.


    "Baby John, you, and I will return to England soon, and from there as the King wishes," Philippa said.


    "Can''t we all stay together in England?" Joan asked.


    "It is my duty to form alliances with the Low Countries of my homeland. And it is your duty to form an alliance through marriage. It is hard for me to be away from my children, but I must as you must do your duty. We will be together until our duty calls us away again." She kissed her daughter''s forehead as she tucked Joan into her bed.


    She said goodnight and blew out the candle.


    Joan hated duty! She said nothing, but it felt like her insides were on fire. Why could she have no say in her own destiny? She didn''t care deep down if she was Princess of France. She already had a country. Her father''s unquenchable ambition to claim France put a heavy burden on everyone around him. God only knew where Edward''s war would next displace his daughter.

 Chapter XXII

    Spring 1340, en route to London, England


    Joan and Philippa''s time in Flanders was brief. Philippa explained that England''s alliance with Jacob van Artevelde, the leader of Flanders, had been secured. More alliances needed to be made, and they needed to move on. So all of their things were packed, and mother, daughter, the new baby, and the horse Red Arrow made their way to the Flemish coast and then took a large ship back to England.


    Back home. Was it her home any more?


    The boat lurched in the sea, and baby Prince John screamed the whole time. The royal family sailed below deck as Joan closed her eyes to keep from being sick. She was never so grateful as when the ship arrived at port in Dover, England. A long carriage ride took them from the coast to the capital.


    The countryside looked as she remembered it. The slanted-roofed thatched buildings in the smaller towns, and then the stone buildings in London so close they seemed to be on top of each other at times, the cobblestone street teeming with people and horses. The smells of a bustling street made Joan cover her nose with her handkerchief. London wasn''t like the Rhine Valley in the Holy Roman Empire. It was filled with so many people shoulder to shoulder, Joan felt cramped in a wall of people as they made their way to the royal castle.


    The Tower of London was massive, strong, impenetrable, wondrous, and memories of being there melted over her. It was also where Joan was born, but she had only stayed there briefly as she when she was old enough to remember. Philippa reminded her of the fact, saying how easy her birth was on a cool winter day and how particularly easy her birth had been.


    "Your brother Prince Edward was the hardest, but he was first, and I was very scared. I wasn''t scared with you. Winter is a nice, comforting season to have a baby. I could snuggle with you under a big pile of blankets," Philippa said.


    As the family of three was announced to the Tower, the procession made its way over the moat through the main entrance. They entered a long hallway leading to the throne


    Joan approached the King as everyone else did -- seeing a tall, broad, bearded man on the throne in the finest silk and velvet garments in Christendom and a weighty gold and silver crown upon his head. For a moment, Joan couldn''t catch her breath. It felt like she was in the presence of her heavenly Father and her earthly Father all at once.


    "Ah, beloved wife!" Edward exclaimed upon seeing them. He stood. "And darling Joan! How you''ve grown. Welcome home, my loves, I."


    Despite not a single letter to her in two years, Joan melted at his voice -- rich, charming, and welcoming. She ran up to him for a deep embrace. His arms enveloped her and lifted her off the ground. She was whole again. She was in her family again.


    "Father! Oh, I''ve missed you!" Joan exclaimed.


    King Edward explained that Prince Edward and Princess Isabella now had their own houses now with their own staff and tutors. They were old enough they were learning to run their own households because one day they would run their own countries. Joan understood, but she ached to see her best friend again.


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    "Joan, You shall live with your sister Isabella," the king instructed. "You will also learn how a royal household is run. And you shall both become the grown ladies who will be queens your new lands as I find the right suitors for you."


    Much like a die rolling across a game board, Joan tumbled from one location to the next. She has finally reached her parents but would not be staying with them. She also was just reunited to abruptly hear about marriages and alliances and leaving someday.


    "I''ve brought your horse back to you," Joan said. He looked confused. She reminded her father how she rode the large horse with her throughout Europe.


    "Oh yes," the king said. "Red Arrow, a handsome stallion. Thank you for ensuring his return, daughter. I hope you''ve become an equestrian. It''s a great skill."


    "Oh, yes!" Joan beamed. King Edward patted her head.


    "You are truly my daughter," he said. And once more, she felt like she was.


    After a few days in London to reorganise her belongings and adding new items she would need, she was moved to Rochester Castle in Kent, less than one day''s carriage trip away. The parting with her parents wasn''t as sad as she expected it to be. She knew her parents would go back and forth from England to mainland Europe many times in the upcoming months. At least she expected to see them sooner than two years'' time.


    The castle in Kent was smaller than the Tower of London but still grand enough for her station. Her carriage passed beyond the high walls to the castle entrance, and a familiar face waited there.


    "Welcome," her sister Isabella said when she met Joan again. Her hair was neatly tucked back under her headdress. She had matured a lot and was more focused on the refinery of royalty than the affection of sisterhood.


    Joan wanted to leap forward and hug her but did not. Their reunion was formal but unfeeling. Joan followed suit, much like in her card games. The only way to win was to play along by the rules, so if Isabella chose a cool greeting, Joan did as well, knowing when they were alone, they wouldn''t need to be so formal.


    But soon Joan settled into her role again as English princess. Isabella was still quite rigid during the day in front of servants and guests. At night, the princesses shared a room and slowly over the first week of their reunion, they began to confide in each other by candlelight and were true sisters again.


    Joan talked about how she now missed the Empire and her German cousins. Isabella talked about how often the King and Queen went overseas for their campaign and how she was glad to have a household away from the regent Prince Edward.


    "His head is as big as all of England," Isabella said, and they both giggled.


    To make the royal household reflective of princesses of England and France, their parents spared no expense. They had an extensive staff of maids and tutors as well as a minstrel for their entertainment. The Queen sent gifts of new clothes made of silk, fur, and velvet.


    Joan sank into the life of a pampered princess. She enjoyed spending free time on needlework by the windows beaming in the best afternoon light. Her life felt carefree in a way she hadn''t when abroad.


    "Were you scared when you left England?" Isabella asked her one night.


    "No," Joan said. "But I hadn''t known how long it would be until I returned. Maybe it''s better that I didn''t know so that I wasn''t scared until after Father left."


    "I sometimes have a dream where I am to get on a boat but there is nothing but blackness beyond the shore," Isabella said.


    Joan shrugged. "We''ll both have to leave on a ship when we have husbands."


    "Perhaps," Isabella said, blowing out their candle.

 Chapter XXIII

    Winter 1340, Rochester Castle, Kent, England


    One thing Joan had grown fond of was having their cousin Joanna of Kent living nearby. Joanna lived with her mother, the Countess of Kent. One chilly day, both ladies dined with Joan and Isabella.


    The late Earl of Kent, Edmund, was Joanna''s father. He had originally sided with Isabella of France and her lover Roger Mortimer to overthrow King Edward II, but then he turned on the pair and ended up under an executioner''s blade for treason. The current king Edward III posthumously pardoned him, but Joanna lived under the shadow of her father''s shame. Her younger brother was now the Earl with Joanna being his heiress.


    Isabella sat at the head of the dining table because she held the highest rank. Joan sat to one side while the Countess and the cousin sat on the other. The Countess was a tall woman, showing her age with the wrinkles around her eyes and a head of white and grey hair where beautiful blonde locks had once been. She was very prim and aware of social standings. She had almost lost everything when her husband was executed. She knew socialising with the King''s daughters was a way to stay on his good side, but Edward had looked after them for a long time. The Countess and her four children had been placed under house arrest in Sussex after Edmund was executed, and the strain on the family was something Joanna was too young to remember but the Countess could never forget


    "Thank you for the invitation to dinner," the Countess said after grace was said. "We did want to share the good news that my daughter is betrothed."


    "Betrothed?" Joan repeated. She looked over at her cousin who looked down. She remembered the letter Joanna had sent her when she was overseas. Joanna wrote how she was already married.


    "Yes, to the son of the Earl of Salisbury," the Countess said with a smile. She touched her daughter''s shoulder. "It is an admirable match. She is lucky to have such a match after her father''s death almost ruined us."


    "When is the wedding?" Isabella asked.


    "As soon as next week, once we get everything in order. They are the same age, fortunately. She could have done worse."


    "How wonderful for you," Isabella said.


    Joan bit her lip and anxiously waited until after dinner to find a moment alone with her cousin. "Would you like to see my latest needlework, Cousin?" Joan asked. They excused themselves down to the bedroom to whisper as Isabella looked at them curiously. Nonetheless, Isabella escorted the Countess to the main hall as the lute player started to play and Joan and her cousin could speak alone.


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    "You wrote to me you were already married," Joan said.


    "I am. I did. My husband is overseas fighting for your father in France and Flanders. I don''t know if I''ll ever see him again," Joanna replied.


    "What will happen next week? Will you reveal the truth?"


    "I cannot. You know I married without permission from the King. Perhaps that makes the marriage invalid. I am not sure, and I''m scared who to ask. Oh, they''ll kill Thomas if they knew we were married. It is treason to marry a royal without permission." Joanna looked down at her hands. "I only wrote to you since I had to confide in someone, and I didn''t know you would return to England. You must swear to tell no one."


    Joan took a moment and inhaled a deep breath. "I swear it."


    "I will marry Salisbury''s son next week," Joanna said quietly.


    "What if Thomas returns?"


    "Oh, Cousin, I don''t know! If he doesn''t die in battle, I am a bigamist, but if I confess, I will be a widow." She grabbed Joan''s hand. "I love Thomas. The marriage was consummated. And now our lives are at risk."


    "I''m sorry for you," Joan said.


    "Don''t fall in love, Cousin. It is a dangerous thing. Marry who you are told and make the best of it. Maybe you can love your husband, but it''s not crucial for you to." She looked away. "Let us return to Mother before they get suspicious of us."


    *  *  *


    True to her word, Joan kept her cousin''s secret to herself even when Isabella pressed her for more information. Isabella knew Joan and Joanna were whispering about something, but when Joan wouldn''t tell her, Isabella gave her the silent treatment for two days.


    "I gave her my word," Joan said, but Isabella carried on her day without looking or speaking to her.


    The next week, William Montagu, the Earl''s son, wed his married bride in front of all the nobles in Kent. Isabella''s silent sentence ended so the family members could converse as usual. William was a few inches shorter than Isabella with pale skin aside from pock scars. Joan did not envy her cousin''s groom.


    When Joanna cried at the end of the ceremony, everyone thought it was because she was a nervous, blushing bride. Joan wanted to object. It was wrong for the marriage to continue, but she couldn''t be responsible for endangering anyone.


    Joan''s heart ached watching the couple who barely looked at each other the whole time. even the kiss was no more than a quick peck. When she herself married, would she keep her eyes down and body turned away from her groom? Would she even look upon a groom before they were at the altar? What if he was ugly? What if he was mean?


    She dreaded falling in love and dreaded life without it.

 Chapter XXIV

    Summer 1341, Kings Langley Palace, Hertfordshire, England


    On an unusually hot day in the late afternoon, Queen Phillippa gave birth to a fourth living son. She fell back onto the bed as the midwives cleaned the baby. It wasn''t as painful as some others, but it was still a trial on her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was told he was healthy and his cries echoed throughout the chamber. She gazed upon him.


    "He''s ruddy like his father. Since I already have an Edward, this babe shall be Edmund," Philippa said.


    Word was sent to the King.


    Spring 1342, Tower of London, London, England


    Phillipa''s next birth was longer and more painful. The room was cool and no fire was lit on her request. She was sweating, twisting, begging her body to release the child. When it finally did, the girl was small and pale.


    "Get the doctor for the baptism. Make haste!" Philippa shouted. The baptism was done quickly in the queen''s bedchamber to secure the rites before the inevitable. The Queen was glad to send the little girl to heaven.


    The daughter was named Blanche and was dead within a day.


    Word was sent to the King.


    Autumn 1344, Bishop''s Waltham Palace, Hampshire, England


    It took over a year for Philippa to mentally and physically recover from the death of her last child. Also she had limited contact with a husband frequently overseas, so conception took more time. Phillippa once again prepared to give birth. A long day''s labour and one screaming but healthy infant later, Edward and Philippa at last had another living daughter, their first living baby girl in 8 years. She was named Mary.


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    Word was sent to the King.


    Summer 1345, Gaunt, Flanders


    Jacob van Artevelde, the de facto leader of Flanders, was rumoured to plan to recognize Prince Edward of England as the official Count of Flanders. Fearing their leader was leaning too far pro England and too far away from the Pope, an angry mob marched to Gravensteen Castle and killed van Artevelde.


    Kent, England


    When Joan received the news from Flanders, she was shocked, but the world shifting back to the way it was did not shock her. Van Artevelde led without being born to lead, and the world wasn''t ready for the way things were done to change. Only royals would rule, and royals could only marry who they were told, she had learned.


    Her time in mainland Europe felt so long ago. She spent years growing up as a true English princess. She was almost 12, starting to become a woman, and on the brink of her future and dreaming about what was to come.


    Paris, France


    An unusual astronomical event occurred wherein Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars formed a triple conjunction in the sky. Each planet was symbolic of bodily humours, so appearing all in proximity in the sky spelled a bad omen. The medical faculty of Paris alerted King Philip VI. The King noted their concern and kept their letter, but he was unsure how to act on it. The summer was hotter than usual, making people naturally warmer and moist and susceptible to illness. He knew something in the air was wrong. He would never tell his enemies what his medical experts suspected, and he had no greater enemy than Edward III of England.


    The medical experts could not say for sure where or when the omen would come to fruition, but they noted first the great pestilence in the air.


    Kaffa, the Golden Horde, Mongol Empire


    Thousands of miles away from England, the Genoese¨CMongol Wars raged on over control of the Black Sea. The Mongolian troops became infected first in a way they had never seen. It was a deadly illness that appeared as if from nowhere. The sickness covered soldiers in black boils and fever, demolishing scores of healthy young men in days.


    Wars don''t stop for strange diseases, so the Mongols attempted to seize the Genoese stronghold by inflicting their enemy by catapulting the infected dead over the city wall. Rats feasted on the corpses as the bodies piled up. Those soldiers who were safe from war within their high walls could not avoid plague-infected rats in their living spaces. Soon the Genoese also became sick, and the fleas on rats boarded Genoese ships that sailed around the Mediterranean Basin.


    The Great Death had begun.

 Chapter XXV

    Autumn 1345, Tower of London, England


    Isabella and Joan were recalled to London with no other information for their meeting other than it was directly from the King. They dressed formally, had several trunks packed for their trip because they didn''t know the trip lengtg, and set off in a royal carriage for the day''s journey back to London.


    When they arrived, they were escorted to the throne where King Edward III waited for them. A herald announced them.


    "Ah, daughters, good to see you again," he said. "You are both growing to be pretty young maidens. I have big news I must share. I have found allies against the French with the king of Castile and Le¨®n. Alfonso XI is a formidable ally, who has expanded his own kingdom''s borders and is good to his people. He agrees and will support the fact that I am the rightful king of France. To secure our alliance, Joan, you shall marry Alfonso''s son."


    "I shall?" she blurted out. She had waited her whole life to be betrothed and married upon the wishes of her father. She just hadn''t expected it to be cemented at that very moment. Isabella glared at her, and then Joan remembered her place. She curtseyed. "I am honoured, Father. I will be a good wife as you and mother have guided me."


    She searched her memory of geography and her map lessons. Where was Castile and Le¨®n? What was the climate there? What language did they speak?


    What was even her betrothed''s name?


    "Oh, Father, please tell me everything!" Joan lit up. There was a prince somewhere across the sea that was promised to her. She instantly wondered everything about him, what he looked like, and was he kind, smart, gentle, and romantic?


    "Come look at my map," the King gestured to the girls to follow him to his map room nearby. He unfurled a large scroll onto the table. "Castile and Le¨®n are here, on the Iberian Peninsula." King Edward pointed. "South of France. Any enemy of France is a friend to me. It''s going to be hot there and sunnier, and you''ll never deal with snow there. I have not been to the Spanish countries. You will write to us what it is like."


    "You are very lucky," Isabella said.


    This map looked familiar, and she wondered if she had looked at a map of Castile before.


    "Do you know anything about him, the boy I will marry?" Joan asked her father.


    "His name is Peter, but you will know him better by his Spanish name, Pedro, as he shall likely call you by your Spanish name, Juana. He is your age, luckily. That should make it easier for you to get along well."


    "Oh," she said, thinking how his name sounded nice. Peter, also known as Pedro. Peter, like the saint. She wondered how long it would take her to answer to a Spanish name. "What do they speak there?"


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    "Castilian, so we will send for a tutor. You won''t marry for at least a year, so you have time to prepare. You will learn their language, their customs. You will be Castilian in your heart by the time you leave English soil. Now, let''s prepare for dinner to celebrate the Princess of Castile."


    So it was declared, so it was to be. The alliance was signed. She was to be a wife and one day a queen. She would be strong and brave like her mother. She would be a mother herself.


    Joan felt like she had grown up in one evening. They spent all night and the next day discussing the betrothal. This was the biggest news of her life. She was the first child to have a marriage plan.


    Over the next few weeks, a tutor from Castile arrived to teach her not only Castilian but Leonese, Basque, and Galician-Portuguese.


    "So many languages!" Joan exclaimed.


    "It''s a rich and varied country," the tutor said. "The languages are similar. You want to speak all the tongues of your people because you will care for them all. We will start with the official language first."


    "What is Peter like?" Joan finally got the courage to ask.


    "He is pale, with light hair and blue eyes. He is fairly tall for a boy of 11 and will likely be much taller when he is grown," he said.


    "Oh, I wish I could see his portrait," she said.


    "He reads all the time and is a good patron of the arts. He works hard with his father to run two kingdoms. He will be a good king, and you have a good match."


    Joan''s heart melted. She wished she could skip through the lessons and meet this mystery boy who sounded so pleasant. She tried to picture him, but the picture was blurry except for a nice style.


    Over the next few months, Joan had learned some basic language knowledge and began to correspond with Pedro. She told him what life was like in England (with translation help from the tutor) and slowly and carefully read his reply back a month later. His handwriting was elegant but with thick lines, his words romantic but bold.


    "I cannot wait to meet you, my darling," he wrote.


    Joan blushed. She just knew he was handsome and that she would love him. She felt her marriage could be as loving as her parents¡¯ was.


    In the next month, a minstrel arrived with his next letter.


    "I have sent my best musician to play you songs from my homeland. You can begin to love the land where you will be queen," Pedro wrote.


    Joan almost fainted as her heart overwhelmed her. How very lucky she was! The music was beautiful, and the minstrel played the lute and cymbals, sometimes ringing a bell on cheerful songs. Joan didn''t understand the words, but she clapped along to the rhythm.


    The letters continued, but no wedding time was yet set. When Joan asked her parents, they just told her to be patient.


    She was already anxious to meet her future husband and get to know him. Much like how she thought she would marry one of the sons of the Holy Roman Emperor, she knew nothing was official until it was done. No match was set until after the ceremony and the consummation. She longed to leave England, ready for her life to start now that she was prepared for it.


    She was ready for the rest of her life to begin. She pictured decades of it¡ªchildren, grandchildren, a well-worn crown on her head¡ªall empty dreams of an innocent girl.

 Chapter XXVI

    Summer 1346, Windsor Castle, Windsor, England


    After another strenuous labour, Queen Philippa gave birth to a healthy baby girl who was named Margaret.


    Word was sent to the King.


    Unlike previous campaigns, Edward named Philippa regent when he and the prince were abroad. She was the de facto leader of England until he returned. He trusted her like no other. She recovered quickly from childbirth as she required advisors to report turmoil in the country. With these reports, she could advise what course of action to take.


    When she was well enough, she met with them in person. She had no time to linger and rest, and thanks to God''s grace, she had her strength recovered quicker than other births. She took this as a sign she was meant to lead.


    Cr¨¦cy-en-Ponthieu, Picardy, France


    Edward of Woodstock, Prince and heir to England''s throne, was a young man of 16 and faced his first monumental challenge of his life. He accompanied his father, sailing from Portsmouth, England to Normandy without alerting Philip VI''s French troops of their presence.


    The King demanded destruction, and every village they marched passed was looted, razed, and anyone who offered resistance was executed.


    "They won''t bow to us unless they fear us. Such is the cost of war. You needn''t worry. God is on our side," the King said as his son surveyed the dead bodies.


    The English had perfected the use of the longbow, and their army was ready to use them. Their army was filled with English, Welsh, some Norman men, and German mercenaries. The King hoped to meet with Flemish troops, but a messenger said they were forced to turn back. The French army was aware of the invasion and moved to stop their progress with hired Genoese bowmen on their side. King John of Bohemia joined the French on the front lines. The troops headed towards each other at Cr¨¦cy-en-Ponthieu.


    The spot was no accident. Edward''s French mother Isabella, a Princess of France, had passed her inherited lands there to him. He knew it,and his leaders knew it. The sloping hillsides broken by terracing and copses provided the ideal defensive position.


    "We will lead the army in three battalions," Edward III said to his son. "You lead the middle army with the aid from the Earl of Northampton, and the Earl of Warwick will lead the right. The Earl of Arundel will cover the left side of our positioning. I will lead the reserves behind them."


    The leaders were all shocked.


    "Surely, your majesty, you must lead us," the Earl of Northampton said.


    "No, the Prince must lead. My son is ready, and he must prove it to us all. If it is God''s will for England to rule France, He will lead the Prince to victory. If the Prince fails, then this was all for naught. I cannot hold a country for him to lose it when I''m dead. I will hold back my army unless the Prince is injured."


    Prince Edward, full of passion, energy, and excitement but no experience, quickly agreed to take charge. But when the battle began, it was unusually brutal--men flung from their horses were trampled or suffocated in mud, men were stabbed or filled with arrows with no pity, both armies using brute strength and vowing no prisoners, only casualties.


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    Prince Edward, clad in armour nearly black in colour so its coating of blood was not very visible, was attacked. Several sharp blows brought him to his knees. His standard-bearer stood over him to defend the Prince until word of his condition could be sent. The Earl of Arundel saw the attack and turned his horse to spread the word. It was then that the King''s reserve army was deployed to rescue the situation, and the French army was repelled.


    The Prince was able to regain his footing and bound his wounds. The French charged again, and the ready Prince repelled them, and again. Fierce fighting occurred through the night and every time ended in a French retreat. The skilled bowmen and strategic battlefield secured the outcome. The French had lost, and they had lost heavily.


    The English had lost a fraction of the number. The King championed his son. He hugged the Prince afterwards. "You have acquitted yourself loyally," the King said.


    Prince Edward bowed to show reverence to his father. With this battle, they were close to equals with one king and one king in waiting.


    The French army was humiliated, and a political catastrophe awaited Philip VI while Edward III began right away the campaign that divine intervention was on England''s side. The win expanded Edward''s control of the area and justified the enormous cost of money and lives lost.


    King John of Bohemia died in battle, and King Edward III paid for the funeral.


    "A king is appointed by God, no matter what country," Edward III explained. "He was an enemy but an equal. I respect him and also, we must earn the loyalty of our new citizens. So we must properly respect their old king if we want them to respect me as their new king."


    And so with their own pivotal success on their side, the English campaign in France continued, seeking the next victory.


    Autumn 1346, Durham, England


    Philippa received word that the Scottish army planned to invade from the north, as most of the English troops were in France. The alliance between France and Scotland, the Auld Alliance, required the Scots to act as a result of England attacking France.


    The series of events led Queen Philippa to leading, but leading as she saw fit and no how anyone else told her.


    "I will lead the remaining army North to fight the Scots," Lord Neville offered.


    Queen Phillippa thought for a moment. "You can lead, my Lord, but I will accompany you," she declared.


    "My queen, your place is in the safety of London."


    "I am regent, and as regent I must be present with my army. My husband would accompany you if he were here. I will not go into battle, but the troops need to hear from the person asking them to risk their lives."


    The domestic English army marched all the way to northern England. Philippa, only months past childbirth, nonetheless mounted a horse and rode to the front of the soldiers.


    "The Scots threaten your homeland. You must defend it. Here, at Neville''s cross, you must repel this attack for God and England. Bless you all!" she said.


    The soldiers cheered out, and marched on led by Lords Neville and Percy to the hill with the stone cross where the Scots made their stand. The English numbers were half of Scotland''s, but they suffered very few casualties and had the greatest outcome--capturing King David II of Scotland himself. He was badly wounded with two arrows in his face but still lived.


    "Shall we execute him?" Lord Neville asked. Almost all of the other military leaders had been captured or killed in the battle, leaving the Scots leaderless.


    "No," Phillippa decided. "Let not any king die by my words. Take him to the nearest castle and send for surgeons to treat his wounds. Keep him under heavy guard but treat him with the respect his station requires. He is more valuable for his life in a treaty with Scotland than dead and reigniting their ire."


    And so King David was held as a prisoner but treated well, and word spread throughout England and Scotland of the queen''s gentle nature and compassion. There were no more Scottish attacks.

 Chapter XXVII

    Summer 1347, Tower of London, London, England


    One year before Joan''s final journey, the contract of marriage between Joan of England and Pedro of Castile was finalised and officially signed. It was decided the marriage would occur the following year, enough time for King Edward III to put together a dowry and put together a wealth presentation to parade through Europe to show off England''s glory on the way to the Spanish countries.


    The letter exchange continued, and Joan grew more eager to finally meet her prince.


    Calais, France


    Edward''s siege of Calais had gone on for more than a year.


    The English troops had surrounded the well-fortified port. During the first winter and spring, the French were still able to get supplies through port, but by late spring, the English gained command of the harbour and cut off their supplies.


    The French commander and nobleman Jean de Vienne wrote to King Philip VI that food sources were exhausted.


    King Philip brought reinforcement troops of 20,000 men to Calais. When they arrived, they were met with 50,000 entrenched English and Flemish men and had to abandon their effort.


    France surrendered their crucial port. Edward had won, at great cost of resources, men, and time. But it was a crucial win and strategic port that now could launch the rest of his French conquest.


    Queen Phillippa, heavily pregnant again, had joined him to give support to the Flemish troops, and then ensure they were paid and sent back to Flanders once the battle was won.


    "I rule Calais now," Edward declared to his military commanders. "I want every Frenchman from here removed. They will not be loyal. They do not deserve to live under my protection. They must surrender or be executed. But I will spare these citizens -- if six of their leaders sacrifice themselves for the safe release of the others. The rest of them will have their spirits broken but will be allowed to live."


    The message was sent inside the city. One of the wealthiest town leaders, Eustace de Saint Pierre, volunteered first. The burghers were a class of private citizens of great wealth that made up the community leaders. Based on Saint Pierre''s courage, five more burghers volunteered to spare the city and more death. Saint Pierre led the envoy, all with nooses placed around their necks, wearing only thin shirts that reached their waists, and all kissed goodbye to their wives and children who openly wept. Saint Pierre carried the keys to the city to hand over to Edward.


    Word had gotten back to Queen Phillippa that the group execution was imminent. Despite her aching body, she made her way to the city entrance where her husband awaited the burghers.


    "My Lord husband!" she cried. She pulled him aside. "You cannot do this."


    "Calais has demanded so much for me in the past year. England has lost many good men. When God determined I should win, then I must smite the rebels for their loss," Edward said.


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    Philippa touched her belly. She had spared King David II of Scotland, and peace ensued. She had no bloodlust, but she had observed how vengeance killings lead to vengeance killings and more battles and more war.


    "These good and decent men are willing to die per your request despite committing no crime but living in Calais," she observed. "Our child is due in one month. It would be a bad omen to have innocent men killed on the brink of a prince''s birth. Spare them, remove them from their homes if you command it, but don''t place any risk to a healthy son by risking God''s wrath."


    Edward nodded and gave her words some consideration. He looked at the desperate men in rags, trying to keep their faces neutral with the nooses ready to be strung up at a moment''s notice.


    "My wife advises me to exercise pardon, and I will grant her request. No man shall die today. Return to your families, and all citizens must leave their towns with their possessions and their families immediately."


    Eustace Saint Pierre thanked the king, and all who offered sacrifice thanked God to live another day. The French left town, and English populated the town, but it was as peaceful a transition as possible.


    And so the Warrior King got his city, and the Peaceful Queen was remembered as the heroine of the battle. Kings throughout time had shown no mercy in war. Philippa''s compassion and her husband''s willingness to listen to her ensured the continuing love from their citizens.


    Windsor Castle, Windsor, England


    Queen Phillippa had returned to England to give birth for the eleventh time. Prince Thomas was born one evening, beautifully healthy and with strong cries and easily latching to a wet nurse. She knew her husband was set to return to England once he finalised everything in Calais, so she did not send word until his return.


    Autumn 1347, Puch near F¨¹rstenfeldbruck, Holy Roman Empire


    The Holy Roman Emperor, Louis IV, suffered a stroke while bear hunting and died. His father had died fighting against the English in the Battle of Cr¨¦cy. Louis himself had fought but escaped. Once a friend to England and then an enemy, King Edward was glad to see him go. But he had been a surrogate father to Joan for two years, and she prayed for his soul when she found out.


    London, England


    King Edward and Prince Edward returned to England. It was the first time the King, Queen, and all of their children were in England together in quite a long time.


    Multiple tournaments were held to celebrate. Soldiers and noblemen gathered to melee, show off hand to hand combat, show off feats of strength by lifting heavy objects, archery competitions and jousts. Any fighting competition was done with blunt objects for the enjoyment of the crowd and not to inflict any pain.


    Lords from all over the country came to celebrate the wins at Cr¨¦cy-en-Ponthieu and Calais.


    "To the King of England and France!" they cheered.


    Prince Edward was the star of the tourney. Joan said to Isabella from their viewing seats, "they are letting him win."


    "They didn''t let him win at Cr¨¦cy. Perhaps he is better than they are," Isabella countered.


    Joan had gained no affection for her brother in the years since they last shared a residence. Either if he won justly or the other knights let him win, Joan loved watching the events, especially the jousting because it involved horses. Most of her days were spent endlessly learning languages, learning Castilian customs, learning musical instruments, and practising needlework with only occasional chances to go outside and ride horses. Her father''s celebration tournament was the most excitement she had experienced in months.


    At supper, congratulations were made to the King and Prince as well as good Queen Philippa for her roles in the Battle at Neville''s Cross against the Scots and the Siege of Calais against the French.


    Joan applauded her family. The King turned to her next. "And let us cheer for the upcoming first marriage of one of my children when Princess Joan marries Prince Pedro."


    Everyone in the dining hall cheered before eating started.


    Joan blushed. As the third child, she had always felt less valued than Isabella. But the honour of picking her to be married first filled Joan with joy. She would make her parents proud. She would be a good wife. She felt in her heart that if God had granted favour to her family, life would continue as well as it had.

 Chapter XXVIII

    Winter early 1348, Kent, England


    Sir Thomas Holland had spent years away from his home during his military career. The son of the 1st Baron Holland, he was a principal commander at the Battle of Crecy and served at the Siege of Calais. Both King and Prince spoke highly of his bravery. Any Frenchwoman who saw him thought to herself how handsome and strong he was. He was cheered on as a hero by his fellow Englishmen.


    Thomas finally returned to England after the fighting ended, and he ached to return to his wife, the Fair Maid of Kent. He hadn''t seen her for years. The constant battles and travelling made it near impossible for him to even correspond to her. Yet it was his driving force to live and return to her.


    Only the girl everyone had known as a maid had been wedded and bedded in secret, so no one else knew he had a wife. Joanna of Kent had told no one, save her cousin. When Sir Thomas the war hero returned to England and reached Kent, he found his bride had wedded another.


    The Countess of Kent turned him away, as she didn''t believe him when he announced himself. Joanna''s second husband William was by then the Earl of Salisbury, and so Sir Thomas called upon his residence to ask to see his wife. When Lord Salisbury turned him away as well, Thomas took his case to the church.


    "I want my wife restored to me," he demanded.


    After that, word got back to King Edward that his uncle''s daughter''s marriage was in question. He sat at his throne when he read the letter with his wife and older children present to hear of court news. Once he read the information, he crumbled the letter and hurled it to the floor.


    "If she married once before without permission, I''ll have her head!" Edward bellowed.


    "Calm yourself, my Lord husband," Philippa said, touching his arm. "You''ve had nothing but positive things to say about Thomas Holland when he fought for you. An official inquiry will discover if what he claims is true and if your cousin chose marriage on her own volition."


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    "How could no one have known if it were true?" King Edward demanded.


    Joan looked away and said nothing. She would tell her confessor and apologise to God directly, but she dared not tell her parents of her knowledge. The heavenly father would forgive her, but Joan wouldn''t take the chance with her earthly one.


    "If it is true, you can punish them as you see fit for marrying without your permission. You can fine them. You can execute them for treason if that is your wish. But remember, it is only a young couple who may be in love and wanted to follow their hearts. That is not an offence. Thomas is not a power seeker," Philippa said.


    "Dissolve both marriages," Prince Edward said. He stood up suddenly. "Neither could love Joanna as I do. She should be my wife."


    "You would do better for us by having a foreign wife. And even though I am King, I cannot undo what was promised and sworn before God. She is surely married to one of the men. The sooner you take her from your mind, the better."


    "I will not. I refuse marriage to any bride you pick. I will only move on when I die, or she dies. If her husband dies before either of us, I will wait, and she will be free to marry again," the Prince declared.


    King Edward waved his hand to dismiss his son. He could never quite tell his heir no, but he would deal with his son''s possible marriage a different day. For this matter, it was out of his hands.


    The inquiry council requested Joanna''s testimony in person, but Lord Salisbury would not let her leave his estate. He locked her in her room and denied requests for her presence. It was not until he was threatened with punishment that he eventually acquiesced. He had considered Joanna his legal wife for seven years. He did not want his marriage to end, but his desire did not trump the law.


    Joanna testified before the council that she had consented to her marriage to Thomas, and it had been consummated. "I was afraid he would be executed if it came to light," she confessed. "I thought because I hadn''t had permission, maybe it wasn''t lawful. I am sorry I did not speak up and any harm this will cause Lord William, but I was married before. I swear it is true."


    The official inquiry ruled in favour of Thomas Holland, and the Pope annulled the second marriage to Lord Salisbury. Luckily the seven-year marriage produced no children, and it had been as if it never happened, so Salisbury was free to marry again. The Fair Maid of Kent was reunited with her true love, and after further thought, King Edward let them be at peace without any punishment.

 Chapter XXIX

    Spring 1348, Windsor Castle, Windsor, England


    A heavily pregnant Philippa started her lying in, but she allowed her daughters to visit her. Men were not allowed in the sacred space. She remained abed in a large darkened bedroom, surrounded by ladies who read to her or told their own happy stories. Philippa thought by that point after so many pregnancies, the mood didn''t need to be set. However, it was tradition, so she took to the room until the birth and repeated the well-worn rituals.


    Joan tried to come by once a day just to talk to her mother, soaking up her presence as much as she could before she left the country. Sometimes she visited with Isabella, and sometimes the girls visited separately.


    One morning, Joan woke up with great pain in her stomach, and when she went to the privy to relieve herself, she screamed at the sight of blood between her legs.


    Thinking she was dying, she ran to Philippa. "Mother! I''m bleeding!" she cried, desperate for the comfort of her mother. She told her of the blood she saw.


    "Hush, princess! You shouldn''t bother your mother and the baby," one of the ladies said.


    "Oh, it is all right. Come here, child." The Queen beckoned her to the bed. She took Joan''s hand "You are not dying. You are becoming a woman."


    It was true that at aged 14, Joan noted changes in her body, budding breasts, hair under her arms and on her sex. But it was gradual and didn''t interfere with her life, so she hadn''t asked anyone what was going on with her body. No one had warned her about this.


    "Once a month, you will bleed, and it is God''s way of preparing your womb for a baby. I was a year older than you when your brother was born. Your body is telling you that you are soon ready to be Peter''s wife. You will be ready to have his heir."


    "Why does it hurt?" Joan asked.


    "Because as women, we can handle it." Philippa stroked Joan''s hair. "I''ll have one of the maids fetch you some rags, and you will wear it to catch the blood. This will become routine, and one day you won''t give it any thought. You won''t have one when you are with child, and one day you will be done with them altogether."


    The servants fetched her the spare cloth, and the ladies in the confinement bedchamber helped Joan clean herself up. Her aches didn''t lessen, but she felt pacified by her mother''s words.


    "Mother..." Joan paused for a moment. She had been trained by some of the greatest tutors in Christendom about languages, theology, and the arts, and yet no one had explained human fundamentals to her. "I don''t know how a man and a woman create a baby. I don''t know what happens when a husband and wife lay together. I do not know how to be a wife, and soon I will be one."


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    "Oh!" Philippa gasped. "Oh, darling. That is something I can''t fully teach you. You will know what to do when the time comes. God created marriage so we can create children. Peter will guide you in his bed. You mustn''t be too knowledgeable beforehand because men want their brides innocent. It may hurt you at first, but hopefully you''ll grow to like it. Your father and I love each other very much, and we never met before our wedding. We were lucky; not everyone is blessed with their true match.


    "But men can be kind or cruel. Some men are black of heart and cannot be good husbands, and then it will be a great pain to bear. As a wife, you cannot tell him what to do. I tell the King my advice, and he listens or not to it. You will likewise guide your husband. If he does something in bed you do not like, unfortunately you must do it, but if there is something you like, you can compliment him and kiss him sweetly, and that encourages him to act to your liking."


    "I''m so nervous," Joan confessed. She couldn''t picture being alone with a man, let alone being intimate. She spent no time with boys her age. She couldn''t picture sharing a bed with one.


    "It is like with your horse Red Arrow. You do not whip him into obedience, but it is a horse''s nature to be guided to good behaviour. You ride him, then give him treats and he is gentler when you ride him instead of anyone else. You are his master. You broke him in, and he lives for your affection. Your husband can be the same, if you are gentle with your words so he thinks your ideas were his ideas and he acts in such a manner to be treated by your kind words."


    Joan wasn''t sure she understood marriage or the act any better. "When shall I go to Castile?"


    "I told the King I would like to see you set sail, and your brother or sister is due soon. You shall set sail this summer, God willing, and be wed by November," Philippa said.


    Joan wondered so much what her betrothed looked like. Should she call him Peter or Pedro? Would she call him darling or sweetheart when they were alone? Mi amor? Would she be able to understand him clearly if he had an accent? Was he tall and handsome? Fair-haired or dark like a raven? Would tenderness come easily to her when they met?


    Philippa assured her not to worry.


    Later, she sought out her sister, reading in their room. "Have you started monthly bleeding?" Joan asked quietly.


    "Yes," Isabella said without looking up.


    "When?"


    "Maybe two years ago."


    "Two years!" Joan exclaimed. "And you didn''t warn me?"


    "It is not a pleasant thing to discuss. I wanted you to stay innocent. Will you tell Mary and Margaret to watch out for it?"


    "That''s different. They are two and four. They are babies," Joan said. "I feel like a different person now. Like I''m no longer a child. Did you feel like this? Like one day you were someone you didn''t know as well?" Joan asked.


    Isabella stroked her chin. "I suppose. It is just a part of life. It''s not worth getting angry at something you cannot avoid."


    "I will leave for my marriage this summer," Joan announced.


    "You are lucky," Isabella said.


    * * *


    Only weeks after, Philippa birthed a healthy baby boy named William. As she recovered, King Edward made plans for everything Joan would need for her final voyage.

 Chapter XXX

    Summer 1348, Windsor Castle, Windsor, England


    Summer arrived at last. Joan had new outfits made and tailored to her, new headdresses for formal and casual occasions, and coifs and hoods for solemn occasions made and sent to her from all parts of the country. News had spread of the first marriage of one of the King''s children, and craftsmen from all over sent their wears for her voyage. Once recovered from birthing, Philippa helped arrange more items for her trousseau so she would lack for nothing.


    Her most favourite piece was her wedding dress, made of lace, velvet, silk, and satin in brilliant gold and red trimming. It was so soft against her skin when she had it fitted to her form, lightweight despite its many layers, with a long train and delicate embroidery down the sleeves and bodice. It hugged more of her curves while modestly covering her skin in riches. The mantle was made of cloth of gold and trimmed with white minivers. She felt along its delicate fabric before it was safely packed away.


    A new crown was gifted to her from her parents, a small golden pointed diadem. They said her new family would give her more crowns once she was princess and then when she became queen, but this was her reminder of her homeland for her to proudly wear during her wedding.


    The rest of her trousseau included plates, silverware, saddles, tapestries, every household good she would need. King Edward aimed to impress the Castilian court with an awe-inspiring dowry the likes of which they had never seen. Trunk after trunk was filled with top artisan creations. The massive entourage, enough for a small army, was arranged to protect and accompany her by ship to the English stronghold in France and then to her destination.


    Joan was summoned before the court and her parents for their final official farewell. She would journey to port with her retinue, but the monarchs would not accompany her. The last farewell would be grand and public.


    "Princess Joan," the King said before family and nobles. "I was your age when I became king. It was my duty and honour to serve England. It is now your time to serve your country."


    "Princess Joan," the Queen said. "Tomorrow, you will leave for the castle of King Alfonso XI and Queen Maria. You will become a Princess of Castile. You honour our family by marrying their son Peter. Our alliance will ensure more peace across the continent. May God bless you and your new home."


    The court cheered. Joan smiled and gently waved to them. She smiled. Part of her wanted to cry at the bittersweet occasion. She would likely never see her family again. They would exchange letters, but it would never be feasible to take the journey back unless circumstances drastically changed. Still, her parents were proud of her. They had chosen her to marry the heir of Castile and Leon. They wanted her to unite the family to another great dynasty, and she would be the one to unify.


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    "Thank you for my betrothal, my Lord Father and Lady Mother," Joan said as she had practised. "May God bless England and ensure my safe journey to my new home and a marriage full of children." To that, the crowd roared in approval.


    A great feast ensued. Her parents let her drink wine in celebration. Roast pheasant was served with gravy, savoury pies, roasted carrots, airy Yorkshire pudding, finished with a berry trifle. Joan and Isabella speculated if the foods would be similar or not in Castile and what she would miss the most.


    "My family, of course, and then black pudding!" Joan laughed.


    Her family dinners were almost always satisfying, but it was a meal to truly top the others. Joan felt full and satisfied. She felt loved as the centre of attention, something as a middle girl child, she hadn''t felt so intensely before.


    Privately, her family and siblings gathered around her in the family corridors to say farewell to her that evening.


    "You shall leave in the morning, daughter. I will introduce you to the captain of your journey, and then you will be off," King Edward said. "We shall miss you, our beloved girl. Safe travels, and make us as proud as I know you can."


    "Remember to be kind and caring to your husband and your people. Be loving. Love your new country as it is yours now," Queen Philippa said.


    She hugged them both tightly. The moment was brief, but she felt the peak of love. Their words inspired her, and she wanted to do well for them.


    "Goodbye," Prince Edward said. Joan gave him a small curtsy. She would not miss her eldest brother, and the feeling was mutual. They knew well enough that a curt formal sendoff was enough.


    "Good luck," Isabella said with a pat on Joan''s shoulder.


    Her younger siblings -- Lionel, John, Edmund, Mary, Margaret, Thomas, and William in a nurse''s arms -- all hugged her goodbye. She said she would miss them all and told them to be good and behave their parents. She had tried to spend time with them as much as she could, but they were children and she was a woman now. She looked over their adorable cherub faces and tried to memorise them and wondered if she would recognize them again if she met them as adults.


    "You shall leave first thing in the morning," Edward said. "Good travels to my beloved daughter."


    "Good travels!" the family echoed.


    Joan glowed. She bid farewell to her family for the night and forever. She promised she would write, and they said they would write her back. She thought about her life going forward and all the possibilities. She did not dwell on the fact it was the very last time she would see her family.


    She also went down to the royal stables and rode Red Arrow a final time. She told him she would miss him, but he would be a good horse for her parents and siblings. She was unsure he understood as she rubbed the side of his face and fed him a final carrot. He was an English horse and belonged in England. She would set out to get a pure Spanish horse upon her arrival that would be better suited for the warmer client.


    As she retired to the room she shared with Isabella, she said her prayers and peacefully fell asleep. She was ready for her planned destiny.

 Chapter XXXI

    The next morning, Joan awoke very early, when the room was barely lit from the sunrise. Excitement pulsed through her with every heartbeat so that she couldn''t sleep a moment longer. It was the day of the start of her journey. This was the first day of her new life.


    "Isa, Isa!" she said to wake her sister. She jumped out of her bed and into her sister''s bed. She wanted to spend every moment until she absolutely had to leave with her sister.


    Isabella groaned and did not open her eyes.


    "Today is my last day in England!" Joan exclaimed.


    "I''m just glad it''s not me," Isabella said and rolled onto her side.


    "What do you mean?" Joan asked.


    "Nothing." Isabella slowly sat up and looked away.


    "What do you mean?" Joan asked again with her smile gone.


    "I mean, I''m glad you are leaving and not me." She got out of bed without another word. "It is so early, what is the matter with you?"


    Joan said nothing and followed her as she went to the water basin to wash her face. Joan watched her sister''s face in the mirror. She waited until the silence was too much for Isabella to keep her thoughts to herself. "Father had originally meant for me to marry Prince Pedro, and I didn''t want to."


    "What?"


    "I asked Father if I could choose my husband and marry for love, and he said yes. But he needs this alliance."


    Joan suddenly realised she wasn''t chosen to go and stay in the Holy Roman Empire for those years and chosen to go and marry in Castile because she was the favourite. She was chosen because she was not.


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    She took a step back. "So you told him to send me away instead? You said it was both of our destinies to leave England and marry foreign princes."


    Isabella didn''t say anything for a moment and then quietly said, "only one of us has to go."


    Joan slapped her sister. Her hand moved so suddenly, she gasped as it made contact, and Isabella winced. Still, Joan did not regret it. Isabella''s cheek displayed a red mark.


    "How dare you sacrifice me," Joan said. "And pretend we were still best friends our whole lives."


    "You would have done the same thing as I did if Father loved you more," Isabella said.


    Joan felt her eyes sting but pushed her emotions down inside of herself. "You are dead to me, and I never want to hear about you again. Do not write to me, and I shall not write to you. Enjoy the rest of your life. I will enjoy the rest of mine," Joan said, then turned and walked away.


    She held back her tears as her maids helped her get dressed for her departure. She could run to her parents and weep and beg to stay and ask if she could marry for love too, but she knew it was too late. The wheels were too far in motion. Even if she begged to stay, her father had signed her over to another family and would not change a signed contract, especially if her leaving helped him in his quest to be King of France. That was the goal. Her happiness was unnecessary to her Father''s goal. She was just an asset.


    No. She would face her destiny with quiet dignity because what had been done was already done. She could not dwell on what she would be feeling if the King stuck by his original plan. It didn''t matter now. It could not be undone. He didn''t love her enough. Perhaps neither of her parents loved her for more than what her sacrifice could provide for them.


    Like the game of chess she had learned as a girl, she was being moved around a board by forces greater than her. She had to brace herself for any moves that happened next while others manoeuvred her around for their own benefit. At the end of the game, it was only the king who mattered.


    Joan promised herself to stay strong and consider her closest sister dead. It broke her heart. So many nights spent sharing secrets when it was just the two of them, feeling like it was just them against the rest of the world. All the time, Isabella sought the chance to save herself the fate every other princess had to face.


    Perhaps one day, Joan would forgive Isabella, but that chance could not come for a long time. Picturing her sister feeling ashamed of herself would be her only comfort on her journey away from everyone she had ever known.

 Chapter XXXII

    Robert Bourchier, the Lord Chancellor, was set to lead the princess to her prince.


    He was the first layman to be entrusted with the title as the "keeper of the King''s conscience." Though he was not a nobleman, he held judicial positions for many years. His role was to review important petitions and bring significant ones to King Edward''s attention. He determined cases according to strict principles of common law. He served on the King''s court as a diplomat and soldier. Bourchier was present at the invasion of Scotland a decade earlier and spent much of the past four years in France, culminating in the Battle of Cr¨¦cy two years earlier where he became a veteran bowman.


    Though his father was titleless, Robert was made a Baron. It was he that Edward entrusted to escort his daughter across the sea to her new home.


    A tall, commanding figure with short grey hair and a pronounced nose greeted Joan in her formal room once she was properly dressed for her expedition.


    He bowed. "It is time, my lady," Robert said after he introduced himself. He said the king has urgent business, so Robert needed to introduce himself directly.


    "Let us go," Joan said with a sigh. She held her head up high as she followed him out of the sitting rooms, down through the grand hallways, out the large open castle doors through the large, fortified gate. Behind her followed her maids, servants, musicians, cooks, and guards. The entourage would require dozens of people, but they would all return back months from now. She was the only one not returning.


    As Joan crossed the threshold at the top of the stairs down to the carriage, a crowd had gathered. She turned to wave goodbye to everyone who saw her off, making sure to plaster a smile on her face. She must be remembered as being proud of her position.


    Up above in a high tower, she spotted her parents waving from the balcony. She nodded towards them. They were still her parents, and her deep love for them still remained. She could forgive them for sending her away to marry. She would reassure them she was happy once she was married, even if it wasn''t true. She would never tell them in a letter how unhappy she was that Isabella should have been sent instead. Her fate has been sealed.


    She waved goodbye to her whole life and stepped down the stairs.


    * * *


    "Oh my! So many trolleys!" Joan said, looking at the multitude of horse-drawn carts.


    "Aye," Robert said. "And more is on its way to the docks."


    It was truly awe-inspiring. Edward had spared no expense buying beautiful furniture and decorations to impress her Castilian family. Anyone who saw a small army worth of soldiers and servants would never forget the sight. It was more riches than anyone had seen in one place.


    It even included a portable chapel so Joan could still do all her prayers in comfort even while between local stops. Outwardly she prayed for a safe journey. Under her breath, she prayed she would like Prince Pedro.


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    "Dios m¨ªo," Joan said to herself.


    "It will take a couple of days for us to reach the ships at Portsmouth," Richard explained.


    "More than one ship?"


    "Oh, with all this on one ship, I fear she will sink, so we''ll sail four," Robert walked her to the large grand carriage.


    "Oh, my," she said.


    A sandy-haired young man no more than a couple years older than her in a soldier''s uniform stood at the carriage door.


    "Princess, I will lead everyone from my horse in the front. This is my son, John. He has followed me into a military career. He will be your personal bodyguard on our trip."


    "My lady," the young man said with a bow. He looked like his father, with a similar square jaw and brown eyes, but shorter and blonder hair and a smaller nose that better suited his face.


    Joan sighed. "I do not need a personal bodyguard."


    "My dear lady, you will be the most well-known woman travelling through Europe. Rich and poor will stand on the streets to catch a glimpse of your carriage. And so will highwaymen and pro-Frenchman who wish to harm an English princess. You cannot be too safe," the Baron said.


    Joan knew there was no point in arguing, so she silently held out her hand so that John Bourchier could help her step up into the carriage. He followed her inside and sat across from her.


    Joan looked out the window. She didn''t feel like talking to a stranger. She remembered how bored she was the last time she travelled to the southern city of Dover with her father to board a ship. Had it really been ten years? It felt like a lifetime ago, and now she would retrace a similar path as she had gone as a girl. She had been a child full of hope. Now the hope was reserved.


    "The weather is fair today. The journey to Portsmouth should go well," John said after some time.


    Joan said nothing. She was dressed in one of her fine dresses and her hair tucked back under a veil. She had much more ornate ensembles ready for her various stops along her journey until her grandest outfits when she reached Castile. Her English party would take her to English-controlled Bayonne, France where she would meet her groom, and from there the English crew would return home and a Spanish entourage would escort her to her new home.


    She tried to imagine how hot it was in Castile, as Pedro had written to her about what it was like. She pulled at the ends of her long sleeves. It was already quite a warm summer, and it would be hotter the more south they travelled. Her dresses had been made out of the most luxurious and expensive fabrics with hand embroidery and lacing that required hours of labour. It was meant to show how rich her father was. It was not meant to be comfortable. Sometimes she wished she could wear a basic dress with breathable fabric like peasant women who also at least met men before they married them and maybe even were allowed to say no to a proposal.


    "You are brave to move to another country," John said after another long silence.


    Joan looked over at the soldier and again said nothing. She was a royal princess, and felt her station required an icy cold demeanour to the son of a man only recently given a title. If she had to suffer the consequences of a royal title, then she might as well act entitled to it.


    If she thought too much about how they were a hundred miles from her parents and she would never see them again, she would cry. If she thought about how Isabella traded her marriage plans for Joan''s freedom, she would cry. And she did not want to cry in front of this young man her own age.


    "Have you ever been in love before?" John asked suddenly.


    Joan turned her head sharply. "I am a princess; how dare you talk to me that way on my voyage to my future husband."


    "At least I got you to say something," John said.


    Joan turned her head indignantly to the window and thought to speak no more to make her point.

 Chapter XXXIII

    Southern England


    There was no shortage of noblemen along the way willing to house and feed the royal group, knowing it would fare well for them to accommodate the King''s daughter. It was all the same to Joan who housed her. Many times, lords and ladies asked if she was excited about her marriage.


    "Oh yes, very much," Joan said as if reciting a speech. It was the polite thing to say, and her hosts were satisfied. She talked about her beautiful wedding gown and how she would be a good wife and a good representative for England.


    As she neared the last days on English soil, her youthful crush of the faceless Pedro based on his letters waivered. She couldn''t help but worry if she didn''t like him and he didn''t like her, and how it wouldn''t even matter, as their fate was predetermined. She would give her everything to try her best to like him, but her heart could feel otherwise.


    Pedro seemed so sweet and charming and excited to meet her in his letters. Now that their meeting was imminent, she wondered if he had help writing the letters, maybe someone read them over or penned them entirely. Pedro''s true nature would be a mystery to her until they were wed, and she was frightened about what wifely duty she was expected to do upon being alone the first time.


    The retinue was on its final leg in England. John Bourchier had mostly respected her wish for silence in the carriage as worry swam through her stream of thoughts.


    "Anything the matter, princess?" John asked after a few hours on the road.


    "Why would something be worrying me?" Joan snapped.


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    "You keep biting your nails," John said.


    "I''m worried you cannot even defend me if we were attacked. Have you ever been to battle? Have you ever killed a man?"


    "No," John admitted. "But it is my sworn duty to protect you, and I have trained to do exactly that." He pulled his sword from his scabbard. It glinted even in the low interior light. "Do not fear, my lady. I promise to keep you safe."


    She thought to thank him but did not. He put his sword away. She was mad at her parents for sending her away and mad at Robert Bourchier for his tedious route through the countryside even though she knew it was likely on her father''s orders and mad at John for being present when she should have been allowed to be alone with her thoughts.


    "I am not afraid," she lied.


    She wondered if King Alfonso and Queen Maria would like her like a daughter or regret the alliance and thus her presence in their country. She wondered if she could provide children, and if she would be hated if not. She had heard of men who took lovers and when kings did it, they were not discreet about it. King Edward had never (to her knowledge) bedded anyone but his wife, and their numerous children attested to a good, strong marriage. She didn''t think she could bear it if she loved Pedro and Pedro loved another.


    Could Pedro set her aside if she did not please him? Annul the marriage and send her to a nunnery or back to England in shame? Could she plead with the Pope to remain queen to a man who hated her? Was she at his mercy?


    Surely by some point England would be such a distant memory to her that she wouldn''t even want to return given the chance. She certainly didn''t want to see her country under the rule of her brother, and she doubted she would even be welcomed by that time. Castile would be her only home for the rest of her life, and she didn''t even know how she would like it.


    "Your eyebrows are drawn closely together," John observed.


    "I beg of you not to comment on my appearance nor my habits," Joan said. "Remember your place."


    "My place is across from you until your journey is complete, my lady," John said.


    Joan tried to think of a clever retort but couldn''t. She crossed her arms. She could not confide in a soldier she just met, but she turned her focus on how to keep her face blank in front of him. It was a welcome distraction from her intrusive thoughts.

 Chapter XXXIV

    Portsmouth, England


    It took a couple of days to take the retinue to the southern coast, but it was a beautiful sunny day when they did arrive. The air was breezy and smelled of salt and fish. The carriage pulled up to the seaside dock area, where Joan stepped out of the carriage. She used her hand to shield her eyes from the bright day.


    John had stepped out first and held out his hand to brace her steps. She put his hand on his without looking at him. With her heavy gown, her sense of balance was compromised. Robert was standing outside the carriage waiting for her. The rest of the crew were already taking trips from carts to ship side to load the cargo in an orderly fashion.


    "Welcome to your last steps on English soil," Robert said.


    "I could have ridden a horse instead of sitting in a carriage," Joan complained.


    "You are safer in the carriage," Robert Bourchier said. "My job is to do everything in my power to get you safely to Castile. You''ll be able to ride to your heart''s content after your wedding and you have settled into your new home."


    "Why can''t we just sail directly to Castile instead of journeying by horse through France?" Joan asked.


    "These four ships are so full of riches, we cannot risk any of them sinking," Robert explained. "The sea can be treacherous and unpredictable. It is harder to defend a ship against another ship who wishes to rob it."


    "Surely all these soldiers can defend ships against pirates," she said.


    "The lands we travel into Southern France are the lands your father has conquered for England. We will have safer towns to debark in to continue our journey on land. That is why the wedding will take place in Bayonne Cathedral, right on the border of France and Castile, where our travels will be safest until you can become under guard of your new family. It will take longer than by ship directly to Castile, but it will be much safer. I am an accomplished soldier. You could not be more heavily guarded."


    It was not a journey she wanted to rush, and she had gotten seasick the last time she crossed the Channel. Yet she couldn''t help but remark the journey plan seemed impractical and that the wedding should be right in Castile instead of a city in English-controlled France.


    "All this pomp seems unnecessary," she said.


    "Aye, princess, perhaps you are right, but your father and I have thought through the options on how best to get you to your destination. Your new family will be impressed by and expect a certain amount of showiness. If we arrived directly in Castile with only the basic necessities, they would not think very highly of a king who sent his daughter off with little preparation and minimal guard."


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    "It is all to impress," Joan said.


    "All of this is decidedly impressive, but it is also practical. Your father agreed to my travel plan, and that is the plan we sent to King Alphonso so he knew when to send his infante''s retinue to meet you. You can enjoy the hard-fought lands of the picturesque French countryside if you never get a chance to ride through them again," Robert said.


    "I have no use for France," Joan said.


    "You have so many insights, Princess," he said.


    He told her she would do best to enjoy her trip for her own happiness, and Joan could tell she was annoying him. He couldn''t tell her directly that her complaints were of no use. All these plans were made without her input. She also couldn''t tell him how wary she was, so she was compelled to complain about the smaller details just so she wasn''t completely ignored.


    It took some time to load all the goods--horses, men, and maids--onto multiple ships at the port. Joan rode in the second ship, with the idea that if any rough or shallow waters were encountered, it would be better for the first ship of riches to sink over her, the jewel of jewels. The ships were identical in grand scale, so it mattered not to her which ship carried her away.


    She looked at the ground as her steps went from soil to wooden plank, and she knew this was the point of no return.


    Robert insisted Joan ride below deck for her safety. Sometimes rough waves were known to send people overboard. She insisted back that the dark, mildewy rooms below deck would only worsen her temperamental stomach and make her seasick.


    "I must have fresh air," she demanded.


    Robert relented to this demand and told his son to stay nearby and that she must stay away from the railings in case the waters became rough and tossed the ship around.


    The ships pulled away from docks into the open sea. First they would sail in the English channel to the Bay of Biscay. The time at sea was much longer than her journey to the Holy Roman Empire in mainland Europe that she had sailed as a child.


    Her insides churned both from the swaying of the ship and her own dread. She ran to the side of the ship held on tightly, staring intently at the dark waves below.


    "Princess, you aren''t supposed to be by the edge," John warned her. "Let us go back to the middle of the ship where you can sit down."


    She ignored him and watched the sea. She wondered how hard it would be to jump up and swing over the side in her heavy gown and just disappear into the darkness before anyone could stop her.


    She felt dizzy all of a sudden and lost her footing. John, who was standing closer to her than she had realised, scooped her into his arms before she hit the sole.


    "Oh!" she cried out. She touched her forehead. Her daydreams had gone too far to a bad place, desperation to have any say in her life''s path overwhelming her.


    She looked up at John, the sun beaming down on him to create a soft halo of light around him. She crossed herself, apologising silently to God for even musing about jumping to release her worries. She didn''t want to jump. She just wanted to have some power over her life.


    "You are faint. Please rest below deck until we arrive on land again," John said.


    Her mind whirled, and the ship rocked back and forth until she lost all sense of equilibrium. Her head was so entangled, she was scared of her own thoughts. The sun was so hot, beating down on her.


    "Yes," she finally conceded.


    John pulled her into his arms and carried her below to a bed in a windowless room. The rocking seemed less severe when she was lying down. He sat by her much like her father did when she got sick as a child, that sweet memory unfolding inside her. She was glad not to be all alone.


    She closed her eyes and let herself cry as John sat next to her and held her hand. She didn''t want to talk. She just needed to mourn the loss of her childhood, and his presence made her less afraid to move forward.

 Chapter XXXV

    Bordeaux, France


    The four ships pulled into port after an arduous expedition from the English Channel along the French coast. The open seas of the Atlantic rocked the boats more than Joan anticipated from her last journey out of the country. The rest of the trip would be on land, and for that Joan was grateful. Now that they had finally arrived in France, Joan knew it was not a long trek from Bordeaux to Bayonne, her wedding site. Her days as a single woman were numbered.


    Once her stomach settled and her eyes stopped burning with tears, Joan felt she had sufficiently gathered herself before she emerged from the cabin to join the rest of the entourage on deck. If it was one thing she had ever learned, it was to conceal her emotions behind closed doors. Both her mother and her aunt Margaret perfected the poise and taught her well. It was critical present to the public strength and indifference with a touch of warmth to keep in general favour. She would not let anyone perceive her unhappiness and dread. When she finally met Pedro, there could be no whispers. Pedro must think she was nothing but excited and ready to be his bride.


    The only problem was the one man who saw her with her emotions exposed.


    "Keep this moment to yourself," Joan said while looking straight ahead.


    "I will," John said.


    "It was seasickness," Joan explained.


    "Yes."


    Joan dried her tears and reached out her hand for John to help her up from the bunk. Her hand was warmed by his. Her betrothed felt so far away still, and feelings were fleeting. She resolved that she could enjoy whatever ephemeral thoughts until then. If she was attracted to the soldier who guarded her, it meant nothing. She trusted him to not tell a soul about her raw emotions. Even a moment alone to let her guard down eased a lot of the tension she built up as she left England. She was glad to cry and have someone present to comfort her.


    Even in the dim light in the cabin, Joan stood up and looked into John''s warm eyes. They said nothing. He had a small smile like he was trying not to but couldn''t help it. She wanted to put her hand on the side of his face, but she dared not. Robert Bourchier trusted his son completely to guard the princess, but she had not spent so much time alone with a boy before. John had been nothing but a gentleman. That didn''t stop her heart from stirring with strange new feelings.


    "John..."


    "Yes?"


    Joan blushed. Her mind went blank. "Never mind."


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    The ship had landed at the seaside city of Bordeaux in the English-friendly region of Gascony. Her family had a castle there, and it was their first land stop on the final leg of the journey. The plan was to rest for a few days to restock on fresh food and water. Joan was glad for the wait. Every day they moved forward was one more day towards not being able to turn back.


    After the ships sailed on the Atlantic, they made their way down the long winding river inland called the Garonne. The river had been much more peaceful, and by the time they reached port, the boat had been almost still. The tall and many-spired Bordeaux church, higher than all the surrounding buildings, peaked up above the hills in the distance. The town was larger than Portsmouth, but the air was eerily devoid of city sounds. Only birds crowed in the distance.


    Regaining her composure by the time the ship began to unload its cargo, she and John joined the crew on deck. Joan was surprised a port was almost empty of other people and ships but their crew. The port in Portsmouth was bustling with ships and shoremen. It was summer and during the early afternoon, so it seemed to Joan to be an expected time of day for other ships to arrive and depart. Except for some seabirds and the waves crashing against the dock, there were hardly any sounds. The general silence flooded around them. Joan asked Robert if they were perhaps at the wrong port, but he assured her they were correct.


    "We are down a narrow estuary, and this is the biggest town on the river. There is no mistaking it for another," he said.


    "How strange they do things in France," Joan said. "There is no one about."


    It was not long until one man came running from the city gates, frantically waving one arm with a handkerchief against his mouth with the other. Because he was the first local person they had seen, everyone stopped what they were doing to watch him.


    "Do not deboard!" the man cried in French. His voice bellowed, but he would not come within ten feet of everyone. "I am mayor of Bordeaux! The town is full of sickness! Please, find another port! You must leave at once."


    For a moment, everyone was frozen in confusion. They had no plan for someone forbidding them to continue ahead. Joan looked back and forth between Robert and his son, but both of their faces were stoic.


    "With all due respect, monsieur, we are on official business from King Edward III," Andrew Ullford, the diplomatic lawyer from her entourage, finally said.


    "You are all in grave danger!" the mayor said.


    "There is always some sickness going about," Robert Bourchier said with a wave of his hand. "We are on orders to reach the city of Bayonne and then to Castile before autumn. We cannot reroute all of this for some passing sickness."


    "Then you must continue on away from Bordeaux as soon as possible! God save you!" he yelled and turned to run the way he came from.


    Everyone stood silently for a moment.


    "What a strange fellow," Joan remarked after he had gone.


    "You needn''t worry, Princess. The French can be eccentric people. I cannot be sure he was even a town official or a local lunatic," Robert said.


    "It is imperative we keep to our schedule. If we do reroute, we have no way to alert King Alfonso, and if he thinks we are deserting our alliance, there could be serious consequences," Andrew said.


    Joan looked over at John. He gave her a slight nod. "I am not afraid. I feel safe," she declared.


    "Excellent! Then we will rest a few days in Bordeaux to resupply before we continue. The journey will continue as planned. You are in good hands, my lady," Robert said. He gestured for his son to follow him.


    "I''ll look out for you," John whispered.


    "You are welcome to look," Joan said. She blushed. "I mean, I welcome your guard."

 Chapter XXXVI

    The Chateau de Langoiran was on the edge of the rest of the town, nestled between woods and local vineyards down a long dirt path away from the river. It had a large stone wall around the perimeter of the property and one of the tallest donjons in France. The Duchy of Acquitaine had belonged back and forth from the English House of Plantagenet and the French House of Valois, so its architecture and interior reflected both influences.


    This land was under Edward''s domain for the moment, and the castle thus the property of the English crown even if the King had never been there. Richard assured her that the hold was safe and well protected, and if any French troops encroached, he and his men were skilled at war and the castle was impenetrable. There was no reason to expect French ire, but they were prepared for it nonetheless. The tower was intended to keep constant lookout, and someone at the top could see for several miles in each direction. It was designed to keep inhabitants safe.


    "It is nice," Joan said as they walked inside. It was a large castle but sparsely decorated as it was not often occupied. Some members of the retinue set about putting up some furnishings to make the place more livable for a princess while they rested.


    "I will go into town to gather fresh supplies. Some of the retinue will stay at the castle with you. Settle in. You''ve had a long trip so far, and there is still quite a bit to go," Richard said.


    Joan''s servants drew her a nice hot bath, which took time to prepare because they had to get a fire started, fill each bucket from the outside well, heat each bucket to a desirable temperature, and pour into the bathtub. It took over an hour, but once the tub was filled and the temperature warm but not scalding, she sank into the heavenly water.


    She submerged herself completely, emerging for air as if she had been baptised by the holy spirit. She spent the morning of her arrival scrubbing off dirt from ship to shore. She felt like she scrubbed off a layer of anxiety, and her skin felt softer to the touch. In many ways, her whole body relaxing also relaxed her mind.


    But her mind kept drifting back to the frantic town mayor who yelled at them upon arrival. Perhaps he wasn''t pro-English after all, and that explained his behaviour. It was hard to believe a leader of such a small town would be so coarse with a royal party. Was his intent to be hostile and unwelcoming? He risked the wrath of the King if he tried to unjustly scare them away.


    She tried to push aside thoughts of the mayor''s warning. She thought next of John Bourchier, but she blushed when she realised it was inappropriate to think of him while she was naked. The water had grown tepid, so she stepped out of the tub.


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    When Joan was dressed, she made her way up to the donjon. It was a grey, cloudy day. She could see the whole town from the tower, but hardly a soul was on the streets. The salt from the ocean hung in the air. She thought it would be nice to live near the sea and wondered what the castle in Castile was like.


    It was nice to have some time alone, she thought, although there was almost always a maid in her presence. The ship was cramped and dark and filled with so many people. She finally had space to breathe again.


    At dinner, Robert said that it was difficult to find the needed vendors in the streets, but they were able to get more meats and produce but for top dollar.


    "It is fine, though, do not worry about costs," Robert said. "These locals know how to drive costs up when they see foreigners. It is what it is. We are able to make do."


    Joan looked at Robert, then over at John who smiled at her. She quickly looked away in case anyone were to notice.


    "How long will we be in Bordeaux?" Joan asked.


    "A few days, maybe a week. Two at most. The horses need to rest up for our trip and fill up on fresh grass before we spend the rest of our journey on foot. This region is famous for its wine, so you should enjoy your time here. I know you are excited for your wedding, but you must be patient, my lady. Your wedding is not intended to occur until November 1st."


    "Yes," Joan said. She looked down at her plate. "I don''t mind being patient."


    "Good, good. Then we only have a hundred mile journey to Bayonne Cathedral for your wedding, but we will go slow as we have heavy cargo. Once we arrive, we will send word to King Alfonso to meet us there with his son."


    "The mayor didn''t concern you?" she asked.


    "My dear lady, I spent many years in France fighting for your father. Sickness is ever present. Sometimes men get sick, and most just need to to recover at camp until their health improves. Sometimes these sicknesses greatly affect the very young and the very old, so you needn''t worry. You are a healthy young woman, and everyone in this entourage was picked for their bravery and strength to protect you. I think the French are just a worrisome bunch. I am not at all concerned, and we won''t stay very long anyway."


    "We could reach out to the mayor to leave a gift of goodwill," the lawyer Andrew Ullford suggested, but Robert again asserted that there was something amiss with the mayor, and his words were not worth following up on. He said even if the mayor had ill intent, Bordeaux was such an insignificant town that it wasn''t even worth mentioning to King Edward.


    Robert''s confidence set her at ease. He had thought out every step of the journey and had the experience and wisdom to back up his choices. The rest of the meal continued pleasantly. She looked forward to going to bed on land again.


    She had been so excited to meet Pedro, but her sidelong glances at John made her head dizzy. Yet she could not stop looking at him. She could not stop wondering.

 Chapter XXXVII

    Joan requested the next morning to walk around the castle grounds. She thought to move around as possible before she was stuck back in a carriage for the next month or so. Permission was granted as long as she stayed within the stone wall, there was no need for her to have guard. Her maid accompanied her to stroll the large estate grounds.


    She didn''t want to talk, so they silently walked along the perimeter. Her heartbeat increased, and her blood started to pump through her. Usually being outdoors lifted her spirits, but she couldn''t put her finger on why a summer day in the south of France wasn''t a welcome sight.


    Everything outside had a dull pallor. The grass hadn''t grown in but in sparse patches, and most of the grounds was exposed soil. No birds sang or flew through the air inland. Even the sky was grey.


    As they neared the gate at the entrance, it was ajar. Joan peaked out. No one was in view down the path towards the city. "Let''s go into town," Joan said.


    "We aren''t allowed," her maid said.


    "Don''t be such a poltroon," Joan said. It wasn''t her nature to break rules, but she suddenly wanted to talk to any towns person just to see if the whole town was amiss. Perhaps the Bordeaux mayor was indeed a lunatic. But perhaps not. "Just a brief stroll along the path. We''ll be back in no time, and no one will even see that we are gone. I must see something." Her maid put up no more objection and silently followed behind.


    It took passing a few darkened houses before they saw any sign of life. A cat meowed from an alley. Joan reached down to pet it, and the cat pushed up against her skirt.


    "Sorry, pussycat, I have no food," Joan said. The cat bolted without warning before she looked up and jumped.


    John had followed them. "Princess, it''s not safe to wander off without guard," he said.


    "Oh, there''s no one even about," Joan said.


    "Let''s head back," John said. He touched her arm.


    Realising they probably should, Joan agreed to head back to the castle. She wasn''t sure what she was looking for, but she saw no one to spark an idea.


    "How quickly did you follow me?" Joan asked him.


    "It is my duty to watch over you," he said, looking right into her.


    "Then you are true to your word."


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    "I can take your hand to steady you on the cobblestones," he offered.


    Joan held out her hand for him. "If you wish. I haven''t lost my footing yet." Joan looked over at her maid, who frowned, but Joan resolved that hand holding made sense for the situation. "You are very quick on your feet to have caught up with us."


    "You are quick on your feet yourself, my lady," John said. "I could hardly keep up with your pace when you know where you''re going."


    They turned around to return, and a dark-haired girl around their age was throwing a bucket of refuse in the alley. She didn''t look over at them.


    "You there, girl," Joan said in French. The girl jumped when she heard them and turned to leave as Joan said, "please, mademoiselle, wait. What is going on in this town? I am an English princess. I demand to know what is wrong. Where is everyone?"


    "Oh!" the girl bowed down. She was in dusty, torn clothes and wore no shoes. "I beg your pardon, your highness, but there is grave sickness about. Please, stay back. It runs through town. Nearly half of everyone are dead! We dare not leave our houses unless necessary, so it doesn''t catch our breaths. The sickness is quick and painful to everyone who contracts it. It spares no one."


    "What happens? How does it spread?" Joan demanded.


    "No one knows how it spreads. It just spread so quickly in the air, and anyone can breathe bad air. The sick get chills, develop pus-filled lumps on their body, their fingertips turn black, they vomit blood. They die within a week of the signs!" the girl cried out. "Young and old! Even the nobles have died from it. A poisonous miasma soaks the air! A devil''s cloud is over everyone. We are cursed. It is not just Bordeaux. It is all over France, and it is relentless."


    Joan whitened. "Oh, how awful. Thank you for the information, miss." Joan looked at John who shook his head. "Please go back to your family. We will trouble you no more."


    The girl ran off without hesitation. The English trio didn''t say anything to each other and just started walking back to the castle. Finally, John said, "my father is not concerned. He has been stationed in France for many years."


    "Aye," Joan said, thinking of the wretch''s face. Poor girl. She seemed anguished much like the town mayor, and they had no reason to mislead. Joan had seen many illnesses and had some herself. She never saw anyone so panicked as the people she had met in Bordeaux. "Maybe it would be best for us to leave Bordeaux in a timely manner."


    "I will talk to my father about it," John promised.


    John did talk to Robert once they were back, who informed him that several of the soldiers who were escorting them into town took ill to bed.


    "They drank much last night, but in a day or so, they will be better, and we can be on our way," the Baron said.


    Joan was less confident.


    "We cannot leave until most of our party is recovered," Robert said.


    "Perhaps some of us should head to straight Bayonne which may have healthier air and less risk," John said.


    Robert laughed. "Listen to you two. There is nothing to worry about. I saw how much the soldiers partook in the local wine. Bordeaux is famous for its wine. The soldiers will be back to normal once their heads recover, so let us wait a day to make a decision."


    One final glance passed between John and Joan, but there was nothing more they could say.


    She retired to her room. She wanted to leave Bordeaux as soon as possible, leave behind rumours of sickness, and embrace her whatever her future held. She was surrounded by high walls and a hundred soldiers, and she felt less safe than she ever had.

 Chapter XXXVIII

    It was quickly apparent that soldiers were not hungover, because in a day or so, they were shaking, delirious, aching all over, and lymph nodes appearing on the necks and armpits as big as chicken eggs. Their sudden suffering wasn''t the worst part of it.


    It was how quickly the bodies piled up.


    Even with such a short time, mere days, everyone scrambled to figure out how to help the sick or where to bury everyone. Andrew Ulford created a list of the dead to notify their families, but he worried no one would survive to pass the list on. Once the bad air was in their presence, it was unclear if it was possible to outrun it, as nothing seemed to cure those stricken with the plague.


    There wasn''t time to give the dead proper burial, and so many were lumped together in one makeshift grave on the castle grounds. Their chaplain went from room to room to give final blessings as quickly as he could to save souls.


    Joan was told to stay in her room.


    Joan heard moaning in agony throughout the castle and then more and more silence. She chewed her nails, waiting for someone to send word to her of what was to be done, but nothing ever came. When she could no longer stand the silence, she flung open her bedchamber door and ran down the steps to Lord Bourchier''s room. She needed his leadership, his strength. She needed to know what was happening and what they were to do.


    His door was shut, so she tapped against it. No answer, so she quietly opened it. She found him in his bed, muttering nonsense to himself with his eyes closed. He did not respond to her entrance.


    "My Lord?" Joan asked hesitantly.


    "Father?" John said.


    Joan looked behind her. She hadn''t heard him follow her inside.


    "What''s going on?" Joan asked.


    "I don''t know. I was waiting outside your door for further instruction." John turned from her and knelt down beside his father''s bed. "Father, please speak to me."


    Robert touched his neck. It was then Joan saw the distinguished lumps as well as the black tips of his fingers. She stepped back and covered her mouth.


    "Oh, no! This cannot be real!" she cried.


    A doctor wearing a pointed face covering, a wide-brimmed hat, and long sleeves with gloves appeared at the door. No skin was visible. He looked like a raven from the Tower of London, a messenger of doom. "You two should leave. It''s not safe near a victim." He followed them outside the bedroom door.


    "Doctor, will he recover?" John demanded.


    The doctor waited for a moment. "I cannot tell. Most do not. There''s little I can do but ease the pain and pray for best outcomes. Sometimes bloodletting and leeches can rebalance the humours, but it doesn''t heal as much as it should with this sickness."


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    "You must help him!" John said, grabbing the man by the shoulder.


    "Sir, I am doing what I can. This pestilence came from nowhere. No one knows what to do about it. I''ve written to every university and every cathedral in Christendom. I''ve reached out to King Philip. No one knows beyond what I''ve said. I will help do what I can, but brace yourselves for tragedy. Pray and prepare."


    He returned inside without another word.


    John started to scream out, "what are we going to do? What are we going to do?"


    "Let us have hope," Joan pleaded. It was a good question, and she wished to find someone who could answer it. No one knew what to do, Englishmen nor Frenchmen, learned man nor peasant. Darkness was consuming the village, and there was no escape.


    "I shall stay outside his door in case he calls for me," John said.


    "I will wait with you," Joan said, holding his hand.


    John looked straight ahead for a long time. When the doctor left, he said there was nothing more he could do, and they would have to wait and see. John wanted him to stay, but the man had so many other patients. He had covered the buboes in a salve made of lily root and excrement to draw out the bad blood, but there was nothing more he could do to ensure the treatment''s success.


    Flowers were brought throughout the chateau in an attempt to purify the air and cover the smell of bodies being buried outside. John brought his father a cut onion to help absorb any of the toxins. His father could do nothing but mutter in tongues with his eyes fluttering open and shut, his forehead drenched in sweat and seemingly unaware of who was around him. Several shallow slices in each arm bled, but no amount of bad blood that drained out of him helped him recover his senses.


    John insisted they wait outside the room with the door slightly ajar, so he would hear if his father said something intelligible and to circulate the air into the room. He couldn''t wait inside as no one was sure if the bad air would spread, but he couldn''t leave his father completely locked up and alone.


    They sat outside the door all night. No news came. Periodically John looked inside to see his father writhing under the sheet, but no signs of improvement.


    They kept a single candle lit in Robert''s room, and the light from that was all that streamed outside his slightly opened door as night set in.


    Joan could barely see her companion. The dim light made the social barriers between them impossible to perceive.


    "He taught me everything I know," John said quietly after a while. "He taught me how to wield a bow. He taught me how to help settle other people''s disputes with law and reason. Even though he was gone many times throughout my life, he wrote to me often with advice on how to improve the world. I want to be just like him."


    "He is a good man," Joan said.


    John sat down beside her and sighed. "He taught me to read. He read to me from our Bible every night as I was a child. He inspired me to fight for the greater good and fight for the crown. My mother lit a candle for his safe return every night. I was the one who had to be strong for her and my younger brother when he was away in battle."


    "That must have been hard for you," she whispered.


    He looked over at her. "It was, but it was so joyous when he came home. You must be tired. I will escort you to your room. It is late, your highness."


    "Let me stay. I must stay. We can pray."


    They did pray, and then they were quiet. Her heart worried, but her eyes were heavy. She rested her head on John''s shoulder, but little by little their posture slacked and exhaustion overwhelmed them.


    Somehow despite sleeping her whole life on silk sheets, feather-filled mattresses, and wood-carved beds with canopies, she fell asleep against the hard wooden floor in the late night hours. She awoke lying next to John in the early dawn hours after the candle in Robert''s room had long since burned out.


    Robert Bourchier had been in several battles for the king of England. He had become a valiant soldier and an expert bowman. The King himself entrusted him to escort his beloved daughter safely across the continent. He was married twenty years and had two sons.


    And their leader was dead the next day.

 Chapter XXXIX

    John had no time to mourn. The remaining members of the retinue were in chaos. Many had died in such quick succession that their numbers were a small fraction of those who arrived. Some others had run off in fear.


    Robert was buried quickly on the castle grounds with no ceremony. There was no easy way to return him to England at the time, so he would remain in a foreign land where his family could not visit, just like all the other men who had passed away.


    "Protecting Joan is all that is important," John told Andrew Ullford. "I will move her outside of Bordeaux where the air is cleaner and people are farther apart so as to not so easily spread this plague."


    "For how long? Surely we should take a ship back to England with anyone who is left?" the lawyer said.


    "I don''t know. Maybe a week. We will need to arrange another crew. We don''t have enough people to command a ship now. This plague must die down at some time."


    "Don''t I have any say in what happens?" Joan asked. She put her hands on her hips.


    They both looked at her after not acknowledging her the whole conversation.


    "We have to decide these things quickly," Andrew said.


    "What would you like?" John asked.


    With both of them staring at her, suddenly her voice was gone. All she could picture was Robert''s body with the buboes and remember his moaning. How foolish they had all been to dismiss the town''s warnings. Robert paid the price for their errors. She didn''t want to fall to the same fate.


    "Is it possible to make it to Bayonne?" she asked quietly. "Is it safe?"


    "Impossible to know. Bigger cities are more at risk for disease, and we don''t have enough soldiers left to protect you if we set out on the road and face criminals," John said.


    Joan looked back and forth between the men. "If there is a place outside the city we can be safe," she said.


    John nodded. "It''s our best chance. We don''t know what''s safest. But we have to have hope and do something."


    "I will organise the remaining men and see if any townsmen are willing to sail for payment. It could take time," Andrew said.


    "We aren''t going to Castile?" Joan asked.


    "Who knows how far this disease goes. We do know England is safe," Andrew insisted.


    "We can sail to England or directly to Castile if we can find someone who knows the way. We should see if there is any news if it has spread there before we take another risk," John said.


    "I see," Joan said. She had known for years that Castile would be her final destination, and now it seemed impossible to reach it.


    Andrew turned to John. "You take the princess to the nearest small town. We will correspond often. I will see if it''s possible to go to England or Castile. No matter what, we need to get away from this death."


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    "Agreed," John said as they shook hands.


    The locals said the nearest village was an hour ride outside of Bordeaux called Loremo, and news made it sound like the pestilence was not a problem there. The farmhouses were spread far apart, so the paths were empty of the filth that built up in cities.


    "You must pack quickly, and only what can fit in a saddlebag. We don''t know how long we will be," John said.


    Joan had not packed for herself before, and rooms brimming with heavy dresses, she packed only a few plain linen dresses, some from her dearly departed maid. She didn''t like taking dresses from a dead girl, but her own gowns were too heavy and ornate, and her maid would no longer be needing them.


    "Oh, I miss her," Joan said when John entered her room.


    "I know, but we cannot delay. We need to go."


    "Yes."


    John and Joan each took a horse and set out for Loremo. Joan fit everything she needed in bags she could care on one beast. The endless trunks of valuables were meaningless to her. Everything royal about her was left behind at the Chateau de Langoiran.


    John knocked on many doors while Joan remained on horseback. He told her to keep her title a secret, lest someone demand more for her safe return. They went home to home until he found a home with a spare room in exchange for coin. An older farmer and his wife had a room with a pallet bed. Their house was bare and small, but they welcomed her in.


    "I will sleep on a blanket on the hay in the kitchen," John said.


    Indeed, the accommodations were not as Joan was used to, but she saw how meagerly the farm couple lived on modest furniture and food they grew themselves.


    "Thank you for your kindness," Joan said to them.


    John helped the farmer during the day, and Joan tried to help the wife in the kitchen even though she had not known hard labour. It kept her hands busy and her mind occupied. The day started early, fetching water from a well to bring inside to boil, scrubbing laundry in the morning, tending to the garden, picking, chopping, cooling, cleaning pots and pans was all day work.


    "Your hands are very soft, sorry if they cannot stay that way," the wife said. "The lye is hard on mine."


    "Don''t worry about me," Joan said, even though her hands were soon raw and sore.


    At night, Joan couldn''t sleep. The thin mattress on the floor was the least of her concerns. Her body hurt all over, but her mind was the one that wouldn''t let her rest.


    She got up and snuck into the kitchen, taking each step delicately so as to not bother anyone, until she saw John lying in the corner of the room, barely visible in the moonlight.


    He jumped up. "Your highness!" he whispered. "What''s wrong?"


    There was so much wrong; she wasn''t sure where to begin.


    "I''m so sorry about your father," she said after a moment. "If it weren''t for my marriage, he would be alive and well in England."


    John stood close to her so their voices wouldn''t need to travel far. "Do not blame yourself. You didn''t cause this. No one knows what caused this. God may be angry, but it''s not at you."


    He put his arms around her and pulled her in close. "I''ll do whatever I just to protect you, Princess."


    "Do you remember when you asked me if I had ever been in love before?" she asked.


    "Yes."


    "Have you ever been in love?"


    "I had not been when I asked you," he said.


    "...And now?"


    He took a step closer to her. He locked eyes with her. "Yes."


    "Kiss me," Joan said, and so he did. She had never been kissed before, the sudden rush of satisfaction and best as his lips kissed her lips and cheek and neck. His hands were around her waist, holding her tightly against him.


    It felt that the whole world could end at any moment. It felt like even a moment of reprieve in a harsh and awful world. She felt connected with someone else in a way she hadn''t ever before.


    They separated, and she thanked him for being there for her.


    "I''ll always be here for you, Princess."


    "Say my name," she whispered.


    "Joan." He kissed her neck, then her cheek. "My dear, sweet Joan." He kissed her lips.


    "I love you, too," she said. "I want you to hold me tonight."


    "You are still betrothed," John said. "We can only love each other until you meet your prince."


    "I cannot."


    "You must," John said. "Good night, my love. Try to get some sleep."


    She went to bed alone, tingling all over, feeling guilt and fear and heartache. It felt like Castile was so far away, and she didn''t know if she could or should make it there.

 Chapter XL

    For a few days, Joan sank into a fantasy life of a simple peasant girl living in a quaint village. No one spoke of the plague or her impending marriage. Life was just taken day by day.


    She had to do more physical labour than she had ever dreamed of, but she felt accomplished helping make her own food and clean up for herself. Her simple dresses over a shift was easy enough for her to dress herself. She laughed at that. Most of her gowns her whole life required someone else to button or tie her into them or they were so heavy she couldn''t lift them over her head. She hadn''t even put on her own hose before. It was so freeing to take care of herself instead of a fancy doll to be dressed up and shown off.


    The days were tough, but there was still time on occasion to ride their horses when the horses weren''t needed for field work.


    "People out here don''t ride for leisure, they ride to tend to their fields. This farmer has been kind to us, so if he needs to use the horses for work, then the horses must work first," John explained.


    "I know the feeling!" Joan said. "But even wary horses need to run for fun sometimes."


    So even for brief trots, Joan got to ride a horse. Being in the country, isolated from society, unbound from propriety, she was free for the first time in her life.


    When she wasn''t helping her hosts with their daily chores, she was kissing John when they stole a moment alone. The farmer and his wife would likely not stop them if they wanted to kiss more openly, but John said it wasn''t appropriate for an unmarried couple to share any affection.


    "Then why do you kiss me at all?" Joan asked one evening after their hosts went to bed.


    "Because I like to, and I know I won''t be able to for long. You must keep your pure reputation when we are sent word we can leave Loremo," he said.


    Joan looked outside into the field, seeing no civilization beyond the trees. "What if I don''t want to leave?" she asked.


    "You can''t avoid your destiny, your highness," John said. He wrapped his arm around her. She knew he was right, but for a moment she didn''t feel like a princess with an obligation.


    "Say my name," she said.


    "Joan. My darling Joan." He kissed her again before he told her the hour was late, and it was time for sleep.


    Their utopia was brief.


    Death had marked her as she lifted up the next morning her skirts to wash and felt the telltale boils on her inner thighs. Her hand reached down to touch one, the skin sore and darkened, but it was undeniable what it meant.


    Her instinct was to hide them by covering herself back up and telling no one. Her first thoughts were of shame and of not wanting to worry John. It wasn''t until a couple of hours that she started to feel dizzier and unable to stand that her mind started to grasp what was truly happening. She wanted to tuck away the boils and pretend they didn''t exist, but even if she hid the external signs, the malignancy was already deep inside her.


    It was more than an embarrassment that she developed these lumps. She was a princess of a powerful king. She was destined to be married and become a queen someday. Her life was planned out. This wasn''t supposed to happen to her.


    Despite pretending nothing was wrong, it quickly made her dizzy and her knees too weak to stand. She braced herself against a wall.


    "I need to lie down," Joan said in the late morning.


    John jumped up. "How are you feeling?"


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    "Not well," Joan said. She entered her small room and shut the door behind her.


    "Joan, how not well? What are you feeling?"


    He tried to open the door, but she pressed her body against it to prevent him from entering, "Please, leave me!" she cried out. She couldn''t risk exposing him to what she had. She pictured Robert''s swollen buboes and his cries of anguish.


    He would not leave her. Joan lost her strength to block the door, with her head and body burning. She stripped off her gown so only her linen chemise remained, but she couldn''t alleviate the burning sensation over her body. She had to lie down and could no longer bar entrance to the room.


    It was how John discovered the boils had spread on her neck and her arms. They oozed pus and blood, with their putrid smell of fluids filling the room.


    "Oh, no, Joan," he said, cupping a hand over his mouth.


    "It hurts," she whispered.


    There was no doctor in Loremo to send for, so he asked the farmer if there was a priest to bless her. The farmer vowed to seek one out but made no promises if any would be available with so many in need.


    Once alone, John gripped her hand. She could barely keep her eyes open. "You must leave me. You could get it," she said.


    "I will not leave you," he said firmly.


    "I''m slipping," Joan said. Her head felt like it was being crushed in. She felt sleep calling to her, but sleep was a darkness that could be endless, so she begged her body to return to normal and stay in the present moment.


    "Fight it, my darling, fight your body''s curse, you must!" John demanded. "If you live, a priest could marry us, forget your father''s war and alliance. We could live together here in France as a common husband and wife and live our own quiet life if you''d like, but you must live!"


    "Yes," she whispered. A fever burned through her for the next several hours, and her abdomen ached like a heavy weight trapped her down. Never had she felt such torturous pain, but she begged herself to fight though she didn''t know how. She wanted to be his wife and throw away what she''d been told to do. She wanted to live as the fearsome poison snaked through her veins.


    She wanted to recant her sins in an effort to appease the Lord, but what had she ever done to deserve this? All she had ever wanted was her parents'' love, but the Bible taught to honour thy mother and father. She had followed every rule ever told to her, and she was dying in an unknown town in a foreign country while Isabella remained spoiled and devious in her opulent castle. What God would do this to anyone? she wondered.


    A priest was soon found who wore a mask over his face and stood only as far as the door entrance. He read her her last rites so that she was freed from any sin she had remaining on her conscience. He entered the room to anoint her forehead. "Through this holy anointing may the Lord in his love and mercy help you with the grace of the Holy Spirit. May the Lord who frees you from sin save you and raise you up, sweet child," he said.


    "Amen," she said. She hoped it had worked. She felt no different. She felt no presence from God. As he turned to leave, she asked, "Father, can you marry us?"


    The priest agreed, and with the farmer and his wife as witnesses, Joan declared John as her husband for as long as they both lived and he vowed the same.


    "I take thee as my wife."


    "I take thee as my husband."


    She felt comforted to know she had a true love, no matter for how long. If she pulled through, it was a legal marriage no matter what signed agreements were made by higher powers. Joan Plantagenet was a girl who became Joan Bourchier.


    But she felt weakness seep deeper into her heart. The fight was becoming too hard. Though her body was failing, she was able to make one choice for herself about her own life, and that she could say that she loved someone and someone loved her to ease some of the fears she had growing within her.


    By nightfall, the chills shook her, and she had begun to vomit so much that there was nothing left to come up except blood. Her thoughts became more and more scattered and unfocused, losing her grip on time and place. The room was dark and growing darker, the chills embedding deeper into her.


    An invisible, cold hand of a shadow gripped her by the neck. The shadow assassin, ruthless and quick, hovered tightly over her. Joan was delirious and no longer heard John''s pleas or saw his form. She only saw the shadow, tall and looming, pressing down on her throat until breathing became strained.


    She looked for Christ''s light, but there was only cold, lonely darkness surrounding her. Every breath out took a little less back in until the shadow bent down and kissed her forehead and she could no longer fill her lungs with air but only blood and then there was nothing but stillness.


    Death claimed Joan not two weeks after Robert Bourchier''s death. She stood no chance, as the plague''s strength had no precedence and no explanation on how to treat it. She never got to meet the prince she had been betrothed to for years, and she never reached her fifteenth year.


    Her only comfort was a boy who she barely knew who told her he loved her, and that eased her transition from life. In the end, it didn''t matter her title or her father. Death did not care that she was a princess.


    She was just a scared young girl who died away from her family in a small unknown town in the late summer of 1348.

 Chapter XLI

    Autumn 1348, en route to London, England


    John had returned alone to Bordeaux, leaving instructions in Loremo to bury Princess Joan in consecrated ground, but to mark her grave so that she could be reinterred on the King''s request.


    He told the horrible news to everyone still alive in the castle.


    "Good have mercy on her, and on all of us," Andrew Ulford said solemnly.


    Andrew had gathered some crew who could sail their ship, and the remaining survivors of Joan''s retinue finally returned to England. The piles of riches that were temporarily to be stored until the journey commenced were haphazardly left behind in the castle unguarded. There weren''t enough people left to load the cargo back onboard, and the survivors only wanted to return safely back home as quickly as possible.


    The sailing back was solemn, with no more spoken than needed to be said. They did not know if the plague sailed with them or arrived at their destination before them. The world was dying around them, and the desperation to get home was overshadowed by the knowledge not even home was safe.


    After they arrived back at Portsmouth, the retinue parted back to their responsibilities. John returned to his estates in Essex to inform his mother and brother what happened in Bordeaux. As the eldest son, he became the second Baron Bourchier. He cried not at all on his journey, held his mother as she broke down in his arms, and told no one of his brief marriage to the princess. That he kept buried deep within himself. He prayed for his father and his wife every night.


    Andrew Ulford was tasked with a horrible job of delivering the news directly to the King and Queen. The wedding was not due to occur yet, and the retinue was not due back until closer to early winter. When Ulford called upon an audience after arriving early and without Robert Bourchier, immediately the King knew to expect terrible news.


    "Speak your news and say it true," King Edward said.


    Andrew bowed quickly. "Your majesty, a terrible fate befell us in France. A great pestilence is rampaging Europe. It has taken half of Bordeaux, most of our travelling party, and it took Baron Bourchier and then your daughter Princess Joan."


    Everyone present gasped. Queen Philippa cried out. "It cannot be true!"


    Edward touched his chest. "Oh, dear God. This is awful news! My beloved girl."


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    Andrew described the painful symptoms, the quick rate of decline, and the seemingly unstoppable spread. He had no explanation for how he and others survived whilst most did not. They knew not what the cause even was. Rumours had been spreading about a sickness, but nothing so deadly and so rapid had ever been seen before.


    Edward thanked his lawyer for the news and excused him to return to his family. The King informed his Privy Council and demanded a plan of action be devised on how to protect the country when the pestilence inevitably arrived at the shores.


    Privately, Edward cried in his bedchambers with his wife. His grief overwhelmed him, making him dizzy and his knees buckle. He braced a hand against the wall. He felt twice his age, like the years piled onto him in an instant.


    "She was so young and so smart. I was impatient. I should have waited until she was at least 16. Then we would have known about this plague and kept her safe with us," Edward said.


    Philippa had not seen her husband weep before. She held him close. He collapsed into her. "We couldn''t have known. This was God''s will. She is in her heavenly home now. We will see her again when it is our time."


    After a day for the news to sink in, he wrote a letter to King Alfonso:


    "We are sure that your Magnificence knows how, after much complicated negotiation about the intended marriage of the renowned Prince Pedro, your eldest son, and our most beloved daughter Joan, which was designed to nurture perpetual peace and create an indissoluble union between our Royal Houses, we sent our said daughter to Bordeaux, en route for your territories in Spain. But see, with what intense bitterness of heart we have to tell you this, destructive Death (who seizes young and old alike, sparing no one and reducing rich and poor to the same level) has lamentably snatched from both of us our dearest daughter, whom we loved best of all, as her virtues demanded.


    No fellow human being could be surprised if we were inwardly desolated by the sting of this bitter grief, for we are humans too. But we, who have placed our trust in God and our Life between his hands, where he has held it closely through many great dangers, we give thanks to him that one of our own family, free of all stain, whom we have loved with our life, has been sent ahead to Heaven to reign among the choirs of virgins, where she can gladly intercede for our offences before God Himself."


    Edward wished for continued peace between the kingdoms despite no formal marriage.


    When Princess Isabella heard the news, she also cried and lit a candle for her sister, but to herself her thoughts were to be glad to be the one alive. The rest of court was half in mourning and half in fear of what was going to come for them.


    Edward soon sent an expensive expedition for Joan''s body to be returned to London, but it never came. Some sources said she was buried where she was to be married in Bayonne Cathedral. Other sources said she was buried in either Loremo or Bordeaux, and other accounts, to stop the plague''s spread, that the mayor burned the Bordeaux sea port and the Plantagenet castle where Joan''s remains were waiting to set sail. It was thus not clear where she was laid to rest, so she could not be recovered.


    Despite his vast wealth and power, the King could never get his daughter home.

 Chapter XLII

    Autumn 1348 - Autumn 1349, England


    Princess Joan was the first prominent English victim of the Great Mortality, but the country couldn''t escape the plague that had swept from Asia across Europe and killed millions. The death toll was similarly devastating in the 500 days it took to spread through the country.


    Both of Edward and Philippa''s youngest sons Thomas and William perished that autumn. They were 3 months and a year old and the most vulnerable to disease. It was hard on their parents to lose both the same month, but they were able to isolate their other children in country estates.


    The plague arrived at the seaport, but the pandemic started in London and quickly spread due to the dense population and free-flowing sewage. It slowly spread north through the countryside, lessening in the winter but returning in full force the following spring once people came back into close contact.


    Death tolls were impossible to find because of the rapid toll and no standards set to keep track of it. Some sources said 90 percent of the population perished. Edward had to halt his campaigns in France to mitigate the disaster at home. Labour shortages ensued, creating higher demands for wages, and discord between classes. Edward focused on internal strife before he could turn back to his larger goals of conquering France.


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    By the end of 1349, the spread greatly lessened, and life returned to almost how it had been. It was not the only plague the nation had ever faced, but it was the most intense and permanently altered the social landscape. Edward passed an Ordinance of Labourers to fix wages to what they had been before the plague, but the law went largely ignored as peasants demanded higher pay for their work. His focus on domestic policy crested new turmoil within England. He couldn''t make life return to what it has been.


    The progress he had made in so many hard-fought battles on the Continent fell apart as he had neither the money, the time, nor enough soldiers to fight more for France, at least not for many years afterward. That war by necessity continued on much longer than any previous war had.


    Things returned to normal in many ways by the end of autumn 1349, but life couldn''t ever be the same as it was. There were too many losses.


    Never for the rest of their lives did the King and Queen stop mourning the loss of Princess Joan.

 Epilogue

    Summer 1377, Westminster Abbey, London, England


    Princess Isabella had been by her father''s side when he died. She had been summoned from her home in France that spring when the King''s health started to fail. She knew she had been lucky to be Edward''s favourite child, escaping the great pestilence because she had had warning of it and had isolated herself in a country estate until the major wave of it passed. She had been lucky to stay in England until it was her choice to leave.


    She suspected Edward''s final words were apologising to Joan. Even though he rarely mentioned her since her death, Isabella knew his heartbreak was something he had never resolved. If they had been commoner sisters, perhaps they could have grown up together and raised their children together and been lifelong friends. There was no one Isabella had been closer to to her whole life, and she lost her best friend 30 years earlier with parting words sharp as barbs.


    Isabella was betrothed at aged 19, but when it was time to board the ship to go to her future husband, she panicked and refused to be sent off like Joan had been. Edward had forgiven Isabella''s capricious decision to cancel her impending marriage, and so Isabella waited until she was 33 years old to pick a husband. She had fallen in love with the French nobleman Enguerrand VII de Coucy and gathered the courage to leave England by that time. Her father gave her a massive annual payment, and the couple received new lands. Isabella continued to live as lavishly as the King''s favourite child. No princess had ever gotten everything they had ever wanted the way she had. She had had two beautiful daughters and vast estates in her new country. Her life was as blessed as it could have been, and sometimes she wondered if her good luck was at the expense of Joan''s bad luck.


    She also wondered if Joan''s death was an act of mercy, as it was quick, and she died pure of heart. Isabella knew Joan was in heaven, which was more certain than she could say for some of her family. What they didn''t know then was that her betrothed prince would go onto abandon one wife, had another poisoned, and publicly flaunted his mistress among many barbaric deeds to his family and subjects, to be known forever as Peter the Cruel. Maybe the angels wanted to spare her the fate as the wife of a monster.


    Seeing her father die tore deep into Isabella''s heart. No parent had bestowed so many gifts on their child, perhaps out of guilt for his other losses. She was his only daughter out of five born to outlive him. Without King Edward, she had no protection and no annual salary. Without him, her future was less secured.


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    When Lord de Coucy heard of King Edward''s passing, he renounced his English titles immediately. "The King is now a spoiled, spiteful child," he said. "Better to give up the lands now than have Richard take them."


    Isabella knew this to be true, but she wasn''t worried about her nephew ruling at that point. She didn''t expect to be welcomed by the new King''s mother, her own cousin Joanna of Kent. Though friends in their youth, Joanna was pressured to marry Prince Edward only nine months after her husband Thomas died. King Edward ordered the marriage for his son''s sake, and the Pope blessed the consanguineous union. Joanna acquiesced but became sullen and bitter and lashed out to all her Plantagenet relatives from the marriage onward. The Dowager Princess would be no friend to Isabella under the new reign.


    Isabella told her husband to return to France, but she had business to finish in England. She planned Edward''s elaborate funeral and more importantly, her father''s tomb memorial. It was the lasting reminder of his time on Earth, and the place where he could be prayed for and visited for all future generations.


    Isabella designed it as a monument to him and all his children. Perhaps in some way, it would help his soul rest with the children he had lost. Edward and Philippa were buried together in Edward the Confessor''s chapel.


    Below them, Isabella commissioned thirteen weepers of their children. Of them, nine had passed before the King. Isabella''s closest living sibling, Prince John, was eight years old when Joan left England. It was only she who could describe what Joan looked like, but it had been thirty years. Even her memories had faded. No paintings or drawings had been made of her during her life.


    But she did her best. The bronze weeper at the bottom of Edward''s tomb displayed a young girl wearing a reticulated headdress, cote-hardie and long sleeves and the coat of arms depicting Castile & Leon above France and England.


    The weepers were meant to mourn the King and Queen in the afterlife, but they had mourned so many of their children in life. Perhaps the weeper would serve as a permanent memory of the princess who died before her life really began due to a fate she couldn''t have predicted. Even years after her death, her face would be the face of an innocence lost.


    Isabella lit a candle for her dead family. "I''m so sorry," she whispered.


    She hoped Princess Joan was at peace.


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