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."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"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.