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.