“This may be the only time we meet,” Yolande says, her voice soft. “Unless you save Orléans and return the victor, it is unlikely we shall ever see each other again. And so, I hope that God will bless your endeavors. I hope the thousand saints and angels of this most Christian kingdom will stand behind you and watch and guide you in all things. I will pray for you in my capacity as a queen, as a noblewoman of the kingdom of France, but also as a former wife, a mother who loves her children, a humble servant of the Holy Virgin. A woman.”

As Joan goes out, the four ladies-in-waiting shuffle back to their places. They settle on their cushions and resume their work.

Behind her, Joan hears the rattle of pearls being loosed and counted. She hears the clunk of stones that will pay for the cost of war.

X

It is the hour of sunset, and the Dauphin is waiting by the river Vienne, the water shining like a basin of melted gold, the sky a ceiling vaulted with pink and blue clouds.

They are alone, or as alone as a king can be in an open space. The ring of guards make a clearing for them. The men avert their eyes and feign indifference while picking the hilts of their swords.

The Dauphin touches the side of his large silk hat. Mid-kneel, Joan thinks, Just as the finest gown in Christendom can do nothing for me, the best hat does nothing for you. He doesn’t turn, only glances (less, it seems, with his eyes than his prominent nose) at where she is kneeling before motioning her to come closer.

They stand nearly side by side, but she remains a little behind him. An interval of silence. His Majesty appears to be reminiscing. When he speaks, he stares at the water.

“My father once stood here.” He brings his furred sleeves together, draping them across his thin body to hug warmth to him. “The people who speak only ill of him are wrong. There were days when his mind was clear, and he was himself again. He wanted to follow the example my grandfather set for him. He tried. But no one knew when he would lapse into his madness, and what might happen if one of his children was near when he suffered a fit. And so none of us, not my brothers or sisters, ever saw much of him. But we were allowed visits, and one such visit took place here—at Chinon.”

The Dauphin motions to the golden river, with its gentle tide.