Isabella Braveheart of France by Colin Falconer
Chapter 1 “You will love this man. Do you understand? You will love him, serve him and obey him in all things. This is your duty to me and to France. Am I clear?” Isabella is twelve years old, pretty, bony and awkward. She keeps her eyes on the floor and nods her head. Her father, the King of France, is quite the most handsome man she has ever seen. In the purple, he is magnificent. His eyes are glacial; a nod from him is benediction, one frown can chill her bone-deep. He puts his hands on the arms of her chair and leans in. A comma of hair falls over one eye. He rewards her now with a rare smile. “He is a great king, Isabella, and a handsome husband. You are fortunate.” A log cracks in the hearth. She raises her eyes. He strokes her cheek with the back of his hand. “You will not disgrace me.” She shakes her head. “Much is dependent on this union.” Her, breathless: “I will not disappoint you.” Phillip goes to the fire and stands with his back to it, warming himself. It is the heart of winter and this is as cold and draughty a castle as she has ever been in. She can smell the sea. There is ice in the air. “If he has cause to reprove you, you will listen and obey him. If he is angry, you shall be kind. If he is dismissive, you shall be attentive. Cherish him, give him your attentions, be sweet, gentle and amiable. Patience is your byword. You will make him love you.” He stares at her. He can stand like this for an eternity, fix a look on his face as if he is carved from marble. It is unnerving. “No matter what the provocation.” “Provocation?” “What do you know of Edward?” “He is King of England. His father was a great warrior. They say Edward is tall
and as fine a prince as England ever had.” (Though it is hard for her to imagine a finer king than her father, or a more handsome man.) She has always promised herself she will have a man just like him; as fair, as strong, as feared. “Your new husband disputes Gascony with me. One road leads to war. A less thorny path leads to the day when my grandson-to-be inherits the throne of my most ancient enemy.” “What provocation?” Isabella said. Phillip frowns. “You mentioned provocation, father.” “Did I? I meant nothing by it. Tomorrow you will be Queen of England. Remember always that you are also a daughter of France. Make me proud, Isabella.” He nods to her nurse and she is taken from the room. She can barely contain her excitement. She has rehearsed this moment in her mind for years; a handsome prince, a throne, estates. It is what she was born for. From tomorrow she will live her life at the side of a great king. Happiness is assured.
Chapter 2 Bells peal across the city. The town is hung with banners. Edward of England arrives in a thunder of hooves, his men dressed in royal livery, scarlet with yellow lions. He jumps down from his horse, his cloak swirling, and tosses back a mane of golden hair. He is like a song a troubadour might sing. He carries himself with the loose-limbed stride of a man accustomed to having others make way for him. He is tall, and blue eyed, and smiles at her with such easy charm it makes her blush. It is love at first sight. Her father presents her and as she steps forward she raises her eyes, hoping to see that glorious smile again. But his attention is already elsewhere, on her father, on the bishop, on her uncle, Valois. “We should get to business,� he says. For three days they talk about Gascony. England camps outside the town, a forest of pavilions flourishes outside the walls, as if they are besieged. There is not a room to be had anywhere, beggars and camp followers sleep in porches and gateways, the town is bursting. Isabella patrols the battlements and passages, anxious for a glimpse of him. They cannot be married until they settle the politics. She hates it here. Boulogne is grey and cold. The banners seem to be fading in the rain. She closes her eyes and imagines him. He is hers. Her father was right, she is fortunate. He is beautiful, he is a king and he is all hers. End of Excerpt
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About the Author
Find Colin Falconer at: https://colinfalconer.wordpress.com or on Twitter at @colin_falconer
Born in north London, Colin Falconer worked for many years in TV and radio and freelanced for many of Australia's leading newspapers and magazines. He has been a novelist for the last twenty years, with his work published widely in the UK, US and Europe. His books have been translated into seventeen languages.
Copyright Page Copyright Š 2013 by Colin Falconer
http://coolgus.com This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance of fictional characters to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author and publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Electronic ISBN 9781621250906 Find Colin Falconer at http://www.colinfalconer.net Colin Falconer's blog at: http://colin-falconer.blogspot.com/ or on Twitter at http://twitter.com/#!/colin_falconer