The Fearless Princess (Forgotten Royals)

Chapter Six

1360

Years passed, and I kept to my vow that I would never fall in love. I wouldn't be like my brother, tormented over a woman he could never have. I refused to be a prize for men to fight over like they did for dearest Joan. Love would never chain me.

That didn't mean I needed to live like a nun.

Men could frequent stews and have their indiscretions, so it seemed unjust that a woman couldn't do the same. Of course, the world had an impossible view of female purity and no woman could ever live up to it. I worked on a virginal image. Though others might think I was a wasteful princess, not one wicked accusation had stained my reputation. I might have worrisome independence, but no one could say anything else.

The soggy ground sloshed beneath my feet as I walked into the frozen garden. November had brought the ungodly cold and kept most busybodies by a warm fire. It was the perfect time to meet up with a young knight for stolen kisses. Anything further would have to be arranged because even I wasn't brave enough to do anything else in this weather.

Battered by the wind, I pushed back hairs that broke loose of my headdress as I looked for my swain. But he was nowhere to be seen. Disappointment weighed me down. I knew he had responsibilities, but it was so hard to slip away. Not willing to waste my green gown, I went to the bench where we were supposed to meet. I would give it a little time before admitting defeat.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine a warm summer day, riding through the forest. The tingle when the knight lifted me from the horse and pressed his lips against mine when no one was looking. The memory of how I longed for him to take me right there on the ground if there hadn't been so many people with me.

There was no one I could talk to about these feelings. I attempted it with Joan, but my best friend gave me a look so grim that I almost hugged her.

"Love isn't worth it," she had said.

Of course I wasn't looking for love, I was looking for someone to keep me up all night. But that would be hard to explain to Joan. For someone who was so famed for marrying the man that she loved, she never looked happy.

If my grand-mère was still alive, I could have asked her. Although she seemed to think I would want love.

I jolted as footsteps broke me out of my trance. A young man was approaching, but froze when he saw me. With my ladies in the distance, no one could try anything. Not that anyone would want to harm the daughter of the king. But this was a stranger.

"Pray forgive me," he said in a soft voice. "I didn't realize anyone would be here."

He spoke in French. Normal enough for the court, as it was still the preferred language. But something about it was different. As I examined his fine black clothing, I realized he probably accompanied the hostages to France. I hadn't realized they had already arrived. Since there was still a state meeting that had yet to take place, I couldn't imagine it was one of the nobles. He looked too sweet to be a stuffy noble. He had dark curls and darker eyes with features that made me think he was a bit younger than me.

I inclined my head. "Most wouldn't be out on a rainy day."

His guarded mask dropped a bit, and a hint of a smile transformed him. It made my heart flutter in a way I had never experienced.

"It's much rainier than my home," he said, his tone composed, so I couldn't tell if it was an observation or an insult. "But I thought that would give me a few moments to myself."

I bristled and rose. "Then I'll leave you to yourself."

It shouldn't have stung, but I was unaccustomed to such a blatant rejection. Logic told me that he might not know I was the princess. But that hurt even more. All my life I had insecurities about whether people liked me or my royalty. I didn't have the beauty of Joan and I was no longer a maiden. I was close to thirty. Most would consider me an old lady. Although Joan was older than me and still as beautiful as when she was eighteen.