The King's Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page A

Chatel had moved from hypothetical legend to living adventure. She would be led to her destiny not by a big white horse, but by an even more picturesque sailing ship.
    Anne and Geneviève, those docile, fearful future nuns, had no illusions about themselves. They admired their friend’s courage, but nothing would induce them to go beyond the reassuring gates that would forever surround their peaceful existence. Without Jeanne’s presence, Marie would never have dared face her new destiny, either.
    The chapel clock softly sounded. Jeanne slid between the rough sheets, her eyes opened wide in the silvery night. She clasped the gold medal hanging around her neck and dreamed of the future.
    4
    LE HAVRE
, July, 1672
    â€œCast off the moorings!” The cry was repeated, and the thick ropes were rolled up like sleeping serpents. The sailors clambered up into the rigging; the sails were unfurled and flapped in the wind.
    Slowly the ship turned and slipped out to sea. On the wharf of Le Havre de Grace, the Normandy port from which they set sail, handkerchiefs were waved in farewell.
    On the deck of the sailing ship, Sister Bourgeoys’s orphans—six novices and five future brides—watched the shore grow distant. A young stranger waved his hat earnestly; Jeanne decided to imagine he was her despairing lover sending his final farewell to the king’s daughter whose hand had been refused him.
    After a long month’s wait in Rouen while the boat was being prepared, the great departure day had finally dawned. Jeanne was leaving her country with no regret, but Marie was crying softly beside her, conscious only of a separation. She was moved by the grief of those among the forty-five passengers who were leaving a loved one behind on the shores of France.
    Marie was holding tightly the letter that had changed her life. And Jeanne, her heart sinking, wondered if her very vulnerable friend would find the understanding husband she deserved in Monsieur de Rouville.
    Jeanne felt directly concerned for her friend’s happiness; that was part of clever Sister Berthelet’s plans for adapting the girls to convent life. She gave an older girl the responsibility for a younger incoming one who was lost and in distress. Marie du Voyer’s parents had perished in a coach accident, and the eight-year-old orphan, blonde and timid, had been inconsolable.
    Jeanne had been eleven years old—tall, sturdy and resourceful. The nun had brought Marie to her and said, “My child, there’s someone here who needs you. She will be your little sister. Protect her, for it is in helping others that we know happiness.”
    Marie du Voyer blossomed under her new friend’s energetic influence. Jostled and stimulated by Jeanne, she gave her the joys of sisterhood in return. The older girl had poured out all the unfulfilled tenderness of her solitary childhood onto that trusting child. Marie’s gentleness had often calmed Jeanne, and many times Jeanne’s boldness had given Marie courage, as on this departure day.
    The sailors bustled about, orders were shouted back and forth, the passengers were excited. It was Sister Bourgeoys’s fifth crossing, and she busied herself getting the trunks stored in the narrow, overcrowded cabins.
    Jeanne, curious as usual, watched the manoeuvres with fascination. The sailors climbing up the rigging with the agility of monkeys reminded her of her own ascent into the oak tree of her childhood. How distant it was, her chateau in a tree! Somewhere, perhaps, Thierry had found the sailing ship of his dreams. Jeanne, watching as the shore disappeared on the horizon, bade farewell to her childhood and turned resolutely towards the future.
    Leaning against the rail, Marie was still crying. Her impatient friend was about to give her a good scolding, when suddenly she stopped. An officer was circulating among the passengers, asking them to return to their cabins to facilitate the