The She-Wolf of France

Chapter I

My own country said that as a woman, I wasn't entitled to inherit the throne. That I always knew. But I was my father's only child to beget him a grandson, and if I was not allowed to rule in my own right, then the throne rightfully belonged to my son and to my House of Capet who had ruled for almost four hundred years.

Looking at my husband, the louse, one cannot justify to me that I am not smart enough, clever enough, nor strong enough to rule on the basis of my sex. If I could not be legally granted what I should have been given, then I would take what I wanted by force. Many have underestimated me and few have lived long enough to rue their mistake.

I came to the throne a lamb. I became the wolf.

~*~*~

I was a princess of France, and I will always consider myself French above being English. Perhaps it was because my happiest memories were from my childhood there and France is where I found true love upon my return as a woman.

I was the only daughter to King Philippe IV. Because I was a girl, I was educated separately from my brothers -- each of whom would be king in their own time, and each passing the crown to each other as they passed away without producing a son. How could they say that I, Isabella of France, was not worthy of the crown when I outlived them all and produced two sons?

French salic law said. The Frankish king Clovis codified women's exclusion into law centuries earlier. France wasn't even considered the same kingdom as it was in the time of Clovis, but the laws remained. What was done could not (or there lacked a desire) be undone. There was no such law in England, but I didn't expect any female ruler to be accepted there on her own merit either. Women can only rule behind the scenes at best. I would rule if not in name then in practice.

Louis was my eldest brother, and there was a reason he was called Louis the Quarrelsome by his detractors. Even as a child, he was always in sour moods, quick to pick fights, and preferred spending time alone or with few others. His passion was playing tennis, but he disliked playing it outdoors. He designed an indoor court to block out the sun with long windows along the court to add breeze.

I was not allowed to play, but I was allowed to watch. He and my other brothers or nobles could hit the ball back and forth for hours in skilled, swift motions. It looked more like a dance than a sport.

I mostly spent my days cooped up inside reading, and there were few others physical activities that were befitting for me to participate in, but tennis seemed like a reasonable activity.

"Can I not play?" I asked many times.

"It is the sport of kings, not princesses," Louis would say.

"You are not king," I replied.

"I will be one day, but you will only be someone's wife."

So I could not find anyone who would play with me, but if the tennis court was unoccupied, I swung a racket around by myself. Usually I did not play with a ball so that I did not have to fetch it. I swung a racket like a knight swings his sword. As long as no one saw me, I could pretend.

Philippe was my middle brother, and he was more bookish and sensitive. He was the most thoughtful and rational of my brothers. He was wiry but known as Philippe the Tall because he soon towered over my father and brothers by his adolescence.

The youngest brother, Charles, was known as the Fair when he was young and the Bald even by his twenties. He was very principled, even from a young age. He was only a year older than me, so we were the closest.

For the sake of my tale, I will briefly mention my younger brother Robert, but he died as a child and at no point did we live in the same royal residence, so he was not significant enough to further detail. My mother died in childbirth when I was but ten, so she played a minimal role in my life as well.

My father was known as the Iron King. He was imposing and inflexible, showing little affection to his sons or to me. He was tall, blonde, and thin, and admired for his good looks, but fanfare did nothing for him. One bishop described him as "neither man nor beast, but a statue." One does not become a good king by being friend to all. It was done through amassing land and wealth, which Father did better than anyone in Europe. He felt little compassion or sympathy, but kept focused entirely on his goals.

Even as a child, I knew I was born for great things. I alone took after my father in looks and in deeds.

He sometimes called me to his library to orate.

"Amassing more lands for the crown is all that matters," my father told me. "I have done more to centralise royal power in France than anyone before me, and we are richer than them too. You don't gain power by asking nicely. You think of how to get it, and you do just that. Respect is earned through fear. Every lord through the kingdom answers to me because I demand it."

"Yes, my Lord Father," I said. I etched it into my heart. It was true my father had loved my mother, but he held no vices for drinking, gambling or mistresses. He earned only for power, unlike weaker men. He had no friends, but he surrounded himself with competent advisors. That was how he amassed more wealth than anyone in Christendom.

"You will be soon hopefully married to better my alliance with England to end this costly war," he said.

"Yes, sir."

"That bastard King Edward has delayed and delayed this agreement, but we both need it to happen for ongoing peace."

The marriage between Prince Edward was first suggested when I was three years old. From that age onward, I was dedicated to being an heiress to my father and being his true successor.

Louis, Philippe, and Charles would follow in his footsteps, but only I possessed the cunning intelligence of a true leader. While they played sports and practised with swords, I read, and I learned. I learned how to be a king.