Princess of the Black Death | ✔️

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.

"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.