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."

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"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.