The Fearless Princess (Forgotten Royals)

Chapter Thirteen

Summer finally chased away the grip of icy darkness on the world. But I felt trapped within a frozen purgatory. Papa's negotiations with the Pope were proceeding with an unbearable slowness. While that happened, I had to protect Joan from scandal. It was something I would do without hesitation for my friend, but I hated the wasted time. With the scent of flowers in the air, June would be the perfect time for the wedding of the Prince of Wales. There should be dances and a grand tournament.

Instead, I was overseeing the preparations for my little sister's wedding dress. Sunlight streamed through the small window, making the cloth of gold sparkle. Joan sat with me as Mary chattered about the ermine that would line it.

"This is going to be the most grand dress in history!" Mary clapped her hands together, her blue eyes shining with excitement. "People with talk of it forever. After all, there hasn't been a wedding for a princess in ages."

"Your sister almost had two weddings," Joan said with a mischievous grin that reminded me too much of Edward.

Mary ran her fingers over the cloth of gold as if she couldn't believe it was real. "But that was a lifetime ago. Bella never got to wear her wedding dresses."

"I most certainly did," I said, remembering slipping on my golden gown when I was younger than Mary and feeling a strange mix of shame at rejection and delight at my freedom. "I wasn't going to let some sour man make me waste a wonderful gown."

Mary widened her eyes at my boldness. "You wore it anyway?"

I tossed my head. "Of course."

If it hadn't been for my more famous exploit, that rebellious occasion wouldn't have faded from memories. When I appeared for dinner that night, all eyes were on me. No one saw a jilted bride. They saw a princess dripping in jewels, laughing like she didn't have a care in the world. Edward had beamed with approval at my defiant attitude and all his friends practically tripped over themselves trying to talk with me. Papa's eyes shone with pride. Spies watched me, waiting to report on the low moment for the English monarchy, and all they were able to say was only a fool would reject me.

"I remember." Joan smiled. "Your sister was the shining star of the night."

"What did Mama say?" Mary asked.

"That I was extravagant and wasting a dress that could be used for my next wedding." I gave a weary laugh. "I told her that it wouldn't be good luck to wear it for a second wedding."

My sister shook her head. "I can't imagine saying something like that to Mama."

I picked up the pearls that Mary would wear and tried to hide what I was thinking. If she couldn't stand up to our mother, I worried about her future as the Duchess of Brittany. She was going to be a leader and our mother had kept her from any independence.

I met Joan's gaze, who gave me a look of understanding. Both of us had to learn to stand up against some of the most powerful forces in the world before we were twenty. Mama might not approve of us, but it was the reason I knew Joan would be a perfect Princess of Wales.

Then, one day, a strong Queen of England.

Mary coughed. "Do you think you'll ever get married again, Joan?"

I almost laughed at the question, but Joan was kinder than me. She patted Mary's hand. "If God wills it."

I snorted. It was only a matter of time. But we were in the presence of dressmakers and Mary couldn't be trusted to keep quiet.

"Perhaps you'll meet a knight at my wedding!" Mary's eyes lit up. "You could come with me to Brittany. Of course, you'll have to wait a year. After all, you're in mourning for your husband."