She has to catch herself. She wants to say, A kingdom isn’t earned by the giving of a crown, by a ceremony held in a cathedral. Holy oil or no, Paris remains in the hands of our enemies, and now that we are so close, I want to see the Duke of Bedford’s head detached from his body. And if he will not submit, Burgundy’s, too. I want them made examples of. I want the child king of England to know my name and feel fear strike his heart at the sound of it, even as he grows and grows, so that no invader will ever set foot on this land again. There is still so much to do.

She wants to talk about the war. “The first time we spoke, Majesty, you asked if I had visions. I have since had a vision, and it is of France. The mounted knight no longer reigns supreme in battles. War is changing, and to save and preserve your throne, we must not only change with it but also stay a little ahead. My squire tells me he has heard of two brothers. Their names are Jean and Gaspard Bureau. They believe, as I do, in the untapped power of artillery, of cannonry and gunpowder. And what is more astonishing, Jean Bureau is not even a soldier by profession but a lawyer. So, you see, I am not unique. There is no scarcity of talent and resourcefulness in your kingdom, if only you seek it out.”

She continues, “I have seen, in my mind, how a battle can be won, not with hundreds dead on both sides after four long hours or more of hard fighting, but in half the time. The English pride themselves on their mastery of the longbow, the Swiss on their skill with a pike. But we will be better than both. We will become experts at cannonry, at guns. For this, you need calm and disciplined men. Men who will keep their heads and know how to work together when they are attacked or doing the attacking. They must train to become accustomed to the sights and smells of battle. Do you know, in Orléans, I saw few such men. I have seen men falter and die where they stand.”

“Cowards,” the Dauphin says.

She shakes her head. “No, not cowards. They are good men: husbands, fathers, grandfathers, young men hoping to see a little more of the world than the narrow corner they were born into. But they are not soldiers. I envision a day when we can leave the chandler to his candle-making, the tailor to his cutting and sewing. And the farmer can remain on his land to tend the fields and bring in the harvest, for what good will it do, if whole villages and towns starve because the grain is ruined?”