The Château 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.

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

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.