Princess of the Black Death | ✔️

Chapter XXXI

The next morning, Joan awoke very early, when the room was barely lit from the sunrise. Excitement pulsed through her with every heartbeat so that she couldn't sleep a moment longer. It was the day of the start of her journey. This was the first day of her new life.

"Isa, Isa!" she said to wake her sister. She jumped out of her bed and into her sister's bed. She wanted to spend every moment until she absolutely had to leave with her sister.

Isabella groaned and did not open her eyes.

"Today is my last day in England!" Joan exclaimed.

"I'm just glad it's not me," Isabella said and rolled onto her side.

"What do you mean?" Joan asked.

"Nothing." Isabella slowly sat up and looked away.

"What do you mean?" Joan asked again with her smile gone.

"I mean, I'm glad you are leaving and not me." She got out of bed without another word. "It is so early, what is the matter with you?"

Joan said nothing and followed her as she went to the water basin to wash her face. Joan watched her sister's face in the mirror. She waited until the silence was too much for Isabella to keep her thoughts to herself. "Father had originally meant for me to marry Prince Pedro, and I didn't want to."

"What?"

"I asked Father if I could choose my husband and marry for love, and he said yes. But he needs this alliance."

Joan suddenly realised she wasn't chosen to go and stay in the Holy Roman Empire for those years and chosen to go and marry in Castile because she was the favourite. She was chosen because she was not.

She took a step back. "So you told him to send me away instead? You said it was both of our destinies to leave England and marry foreign princes."

Isabella didn't say anything for a moment and then quietly said, "only one of us has to go."

Joan slapped her sister. Her hand moved so suddenly, she gasped as it made contact, and Isabella winced. Still, Joan did not regret it. Isabella's cheek displayed a red mark.

"How dare you sacrifice me," Joan said. "And pretend we were still best friends our whole lives."

"You would have done the same thing as I did if Father loved you more," Isabella said.

Joan felt her eyes sting but pushed her emotions down inside of herself. "You are dead to me, and I never want to hear about you again. Do not write to me, and I shall not write to you. Enjoy the rest of your life. I will enjoy the rest of mine," Joan said, then turned and walked away.

She held back her tears as her maids helped her get dressed for her departure. She could run to her parents and weep and beg to stay and ask if she could marry for love too, but she knew it was too late. The wheels were too far in motion. Even if she begged to stay, her father had signed her over to another family and would not change a signed contract, especially if her leaving helped him in his quest to be King of France. That was the goal. Her happiness was unnecessary to her Father's goal. She was just an asset.

No. She would face her destiny with quiet dignity because what had been done was already done. She could not dwell on what she would be feeling if the King stuck by his original plan. It didn't matter now. It could not be undone. He didn't love her enough. Perhaps neither of her parents loved her for more than what her sacrifice could provide for them.

Like the game of chess she had learned as a girl, she was being moved around a board by forces greater than her. She had to brace herself for any moves that happened next while others manoeuvred her around for their own benefit. At the end of the game, it was only the king who mattered.

Joan promised herself to stay strong and consider her closest sister dead. It broke her heart. So many nights spent sharing secrets when it was just the two of them, feeling like it was just them against the rest of the world. All the time, Isabella sought the chance to save herself the fate every other princess had to face.

Perhaps one day, Joan would forgive Isabella, but that chance could not come for a long time. Picturing her sister feeling ashamed of herself would be her only comfort on her journey away from everyone she had ever known.