(April 14, 1431 at the Dauphin’s Palace.)

          I suppose I should feel some sympathy for Jehanne’s demise.  After all, I admit that I did little to save the girl’s life, other then threaten a few English prisoners so that she would be treated well.

          What could I do?  The siege on Paris had failed and I was force d to sign a treaty with the Burgudian lords.  Jehanne, of course, violently rebelled against this decision, much to my disapproval.  She bluntly disobeyed my orders by challenging the armies there; therefore, her capture was a by fault of her own.

          Besides, there was plenty going on here in the castle.  People were losing faith in our “beloved” Lady  of Orlèans.  Jehanne had become old news, worn out propaganda, yet she still fought on, adding both defeat and victory to her scale.  While the people of France were pleased by this, I believe they were  getting a tad annoyed with her insubordinate, headstrong nature, especially around the time of her capture.  Since it occurred on land given up by treaty, I refused to deal with her further.

          I did not think they would burn her.

          Seriously, I did not.  In all my years, I have never seen a nation so deadest against killing an innocent saint. 

          Saint?  Saint!  Did I just call her a saint?  Of course, even in her aftermath she leaves that everlasting impression on me.  Or maybe it is guilt.  Guilt for not treating her better, for betraying her with that treaty, for not coming to her rescue.

          No, that could not be it.  We Kings are not guilty!  We are never wrong!

Still, she trusted me.  In fact, she was one of the few people who ever believed in me.  It is hard growing up when rumors that you are a bastard child are constantly being thrown around, and the weight of a falling kingdom is being pushed onto your shoulders, and then Jehanne goes and is captured.  What was I to do?

I mean I had a duty to my country! Not to her, the Lady of Orléans.  The Lady of Orléans that term means to little anymore, for I have already seen one rise and fall.  I wonder now if my people have any hope left, much less my country.

I was never an esteemed man until I finally received the crown, that priceless ordainment that made me someone, somebody.  I can still clearly remember being forced into singing that treaty with the English so they would eventually get the crown, that mortal fear of combat I have gaining on my sense.  I felt so helpless, so vulnerable, and so weak.  That is why gaining the crown was such an importance for me.  For the first time in my life, I had esteem, pride, and nobility.  The English or my people no longer looked me down upon me.       

But she still disobeyed me!  That has to count for something.

Right?

What am I worrying myself over this any way.  I have no need to dwell on anything as trivial a girl's life, even the life of the Lady of Orléans.  After all, it is not if I actually care.

-Charles VII, Dauphin