Princess of the Black Death | ✔️

Chapter XXI

Philippa and Joan spent all afternoon catching up about the two years they were apart. They had sent letters, but Joan felt the freedom to unload more personal thoughts that the Empress thought were improper to put in formal letters.

Joan thought how similar Queen Philippa looked to Empress Margaret. It seemed like her mother, who had a rounder face and more piercing eyes than her sister, hadn't aged a day since Joan had last seen her. Yet Joan felt much more grown and not like the girl she was when she left England. She wondered if her mother could perceive the difference.

The queen had had two children since Joan left England. She had gone back and forth from England to the Low Countries to champion her husband's cause. Joan had grown more and changed one mother figure to another and now back again. She had ached to see her mother again, and now she missed Margaret whom she would likely never see again.

"I miss Margaret too," Philippa said. "I likely will never see her, and letters are never the same. That's just our lot in life. Once you marry, your new family will be your husband and children, and your old family will become secondary. There's no way to value both equally. Do not worry about it now. Keep in contact as you can, and hope fate will bring you back to the people you left if it is meant to be that way."

Joan felt alone. A person without a country. A person who had to be guarded against love because she would be pulled away from anyone she ever loved with no notice. She wore beautiful things, she had an amazing education, and every day she woke up never knowing what was coming to her.

Their host, who was the resident of the castle, was not the Count of Flanders. He was a statesman who had risen up to be a political leader named Jacob van Artevelde. He was a wealthy wool merchant. He had not been born to rule, but he gained power and respect from his peers when the old Count fled town.

"How peculiar," Joan remarked. She had not heard of a ruler who ruled not because his father was ruler, but because he gained support on his own merits.

Jacob van Arteveld was average in height with wide, squared off shoulders. He had a thick, bushy beard that he stroked while others talked. There was something rougher about his appearance than the king and emperor she had met. Unlike the emperor, he talked to her more directly and listened closely as she answered. At first, she had been startled by his mannerisms, but she felt acknowledged by an adult like she hadn't been before. He did not ascribe to the notion that children were only intended to be seen and not heard.

At dinner, Joan sat near the head of the table with her mother. Jacob van Artevelde asked how she liked the Holy Roman Empire.

She thought for a moment. "There were more forests and more mountains and hills than in England. There were some rivers but no sea. It was very pretty and many of the castles were as nice as the ones I was used to."

"And how did you like the Emperor?" van Artevelde asked.

Joan sensed she should be careful with her words as she wasn't sure if Louis was well-liked in Flanders or not. "He is very smart," she said.

"The Emperor allied with your father against the false French King Philip VI. But Philip is the protector of the Pope who now lives in France. And Emperor Louis wants to be allied with the Pope more than he wants to do right to recognize your father as the true king of France. Philip and Pope Benedict XII go hand in hand. And that is why you are here now, because Louis reneged on his alliance," van Artevelde explained.

"Oh," Joan said. She didn't understand why someone would give their word and then take it back. She didn't understand why she would have to stay with Louis's family for years for it not to mean anything.

"Do you know what happened to the Count of Flanders who used to live here?" the statesman asked her.

Joan said she did not.

"The Count was very pro-France and supportive of the false king Philip VI. The Count faced rebellion and asked Philip for help, to which Philip said if the Count needed to be rescued from a future rebellion, France would incorporate Flanders into its kingdom. The rest of us citizens did not want to become French so that a poor Count could hold onto power."

"I see,"

"I am a wool merchant, as are many here. Flanders sells much more wool to England than France, and your father the King would not buy wool if Flanders favoured France. That hurt me and my family while the Count chose personal relationships over his people's best interest. Because of England's boycott, I led a large group against the Count, who fled his lands because he would not agree to our terms. Now I rule here as I know Edward is the true king of France. We are friends to England, but we do not wish to lose our independence."

Joan thought for a moment. "Is Father close to the French throne?"

"Closer," Jacob van Artevelde said, stroking his beard. "But there is so much yet to do."

Joan sighed. It seemed like Edward's quest would never end.

Later that evening, Philippa spent time in Joan's room as she got ready for bed and said her prayers. She asked her mother about what was next for both of them. All she had been told was she was going to Flanders but not for how long or where to next.

"Baby John, you, and I will return to England soon, and from there as the King wishes," Philippa said.

"Can't we all stay together in England?" Joan asked.

"It is my duty to form alliances with the Low Countries of my homeland. And it is your duty to form an alliance through marriage. It is hard for me to be away from my children, but I must as you must do your duty. We will be together until our duty calls us away again." She kissed her daughter's forehead as she tucked Joan into her bed.

She said goodnight and blew out the candle.

Joan hated duty! She said nothing, but it felt like her insides were on fire. Why could she have no say in her own destiny? She didn't care deep down if she was Princess of France. She already had a country. Her father's unquenchable ambition to claim France put a heavy burden on everyone around him. God only knew where Edward's war would next displace his daughter.