March 1299. Lusignan, Poitou.
The treaty was signed in the early hours of the afternoon, a fortnight after both parties arrived at the city. The King of France was represented by his younger brother, Louis, Count of Évreux and a statesman by the name of Guillaume de Nogaret, while his cousin the King of England was represented by his friend and confidant Henry de Lacy, Earl of Lincoln.
The agreement was rather simple, despite everything.
It was signed that the marriage between Lady Constance of Windsor, presently seven and in the custody of her governess, would be married to King Philip’s eldest son and heir, Louis, at the age of twelve. She would not bring a dowry with her and the King of France was expected to allot lands of sufficient income to maintain a household worthy of her status in its stead. The betrothal between Henry, Earl of Kent and Lady Joanna of Flanders, six and five years of age respectively, was recognized and accepted by the King of France. The lands of Gascony would return to the King of England, who would pay a sum of 20,000 marks in reparation for the war. His son, Édouard, Prince of Wales, would perform homage to King Philip in Paris in the name of his father before the end of the year.
Once the King of France might have hoped to betroth his own daughter, four-year-old Mademoiselle Ysabeau, to Prince Édouard, but the match between him and Queen Margaret took precedence, despite the large offer of money for it to be broken. Not to mention, the age difference of eleven years between Ysabeau and the Prince, which meant that it would be over a decade before she could produce legitimate children, while Queen Margaret, at sixteen, was already of an age to be a mother.
There was, of course, the hope of a son born to the young Scottish queen now that peace reigned and her intended husband was to return to England. A son to marry Mademoiselle and bring the blood of King Philip to the House of Anjou, but such a possibility was distant. And no one truly expected it to come true.
More else, the betrothal between Louis of France and Mademoiselle Marguerite de Bourgogne, now broken, was to be considered the fault of the English king who would pay 500 marks to Duke Robert II in restitution. She was, however, betrothed to Monsieur Charles, third son of King Philip who was four years her junior and would be made Count of Champagne when either he came of age or his mother died. And her sister Jeanne de Bourgogne would wed Monsieur Philippe de Valois, eldest son of the Count of Valois. The Count of Valois would also be released from his imprisonment in Flanders, having been captured by the Earl of Carrick at the start of the war, and the King of France would pay a ransom of 50,000 marks to be divided between King Edward, Count Guy of Flanders and Robert Bruce.
Such was the agreement. Signed and sealed before a papal legate, sent there to oversee the negotiations.
Now, once again, peace reigned over Europe.
May 1299. Louvre Palace, France.
Philip, Fourth with that Name, King of France and Navarre brought a cup of wine to his mouth. The mood around him was merry, a feast to celebrate the end of the war and homage ceremony between himself and the Prince of Wales in the name of his father. It was supposed to be a happy occasion, but he didn’t feel it. At all.
He looked at the Prince. The boy had recently turned fifteen and there was still some youth and boyishness to him. But he was tall, golden-haired and broad-shouldered. The boy would be even taller than his father, Philip believed, and be more handsome than him. He was still young, of course, but if the war’s end would lead to anything, it would be to his return to England and the celebration of his marriage with the Queen of Scots.
When his eyes met Édouard’s, the boy averted his gaze to prevent him from seeing the grimace that spread across his face. The English royals still had some misunderstandings over Edmund of Lancaster’s death then. And the boy could hardly hide his hatred. It made Philip chuckle.
“He’s quite handsome,” Jeanne whispered beside him. “A pity you couldn’t get our daughter married to him. I’d love to have those curls in my bloodline.” The acid in her words was difficult to miss. She really was angry at the missed betrothal, then.
“Careful,” Philip said. “If you keep saying things like that, I might even get jealous.” He knew she was only being half-truthful though. What she wanted wasn’t the golden curls of Edward’s golden boy. It was Gascony in the hands of their grandchildren, either through the male or female line. It didn’t matter where. He smiled. “The English king would never have accepted it. The match with Scotland is more important, apparently.”
“Apparently,” Jeanne repeated. “I suppose we’ll have to accept Lady Constance of England being married to our son.”
“Yes,” said Philip. “Hopefully, she’ll be different from her mother.” The uncrowned Queen of England was a bold and outspoken woman, everyone said. Her actions and disagreements with her husband’s daughter had led to the woman’s banishment from court and her subsequent near-poverty upon her husband’s death. She only lived through the income of her dower lands in Gloucester. He didn’t want that sort of woman near his son.
“The girl spent many years away from her,” Jeanne said in response. “She is seven now, isn’t she? The formative years are nearly behind her. And we can send a trusted woman to be her governess. Edward won’t be able to deny it, if we claim it’s to give her the graces and manners necessary to be Queen of France, even if he disapproves.”
“Who, then?” The women of France were hardly his responsibility, especially the noble ones. He didn’t know who could perform such a task.
“I’ll think about it.” Jeanne looked at Prince Édouard again. “Do you know something I’ve been thinking of?” He shook his head. “No other family would have valued the Queen of Scots so much. They might have sent younger sons to marry her, but only England and her king would ever think to give their eldest heir to a half-Norwegian little girl.”
“England has long coveted Scotland,” said Philip. “I’m only surprised it took them this long.”
Jeanne hummed before she changed the subject, “We should marry our son Philippe to Jeanne de Bourgogne, daughter of my cousin Mahaut and Count Otto.” Jeanne would hold the county of Burgundy one day, after her brother’s death during the war, and her grandfather’s Artois someday too. The death of Mahaut’s brother and nephew had made it so.
“Make the arrangements,” Philip said in return.