Charles, irritated by her newfound ill humor, had told her to 'take a walk' between cases that morning and with just as much irritation that he had, France stomped out of the court and out on to the grounds.

Take a walk, bah.

She'd take a walk alright, all the way to Orléans. Even if she was "delicate" and "very important" and "you already tried to prove yourself capable, and you almost got yourself killed."

She'd show him. If he was letting Jeanne go, then certainly she should be able to go and face her defeat with dignity and kick England between the legs while she was at it. What was the big difference between a country girl and a slightly older embodiment of the French government that also happened to be female? That's right nothing.

She kicked at the frozen ground and stubbed her toe.

Stupid ground. Stupid winter, Stupid war, Stupid soldiers. Stupid reinforcements. Stupid pretty girls that were only fooling themselves about being able to save France because France was going to fall sooner or-

"I for one think this is ridiculous."

-later…

France frowned and turned towards the voice. A buff soldier was reclining against the barracks, talking to one of the stable boys. He had huge arms and were crossed over his chest and bared to nippy wind of mid-November. The stable boy next to him was thin as a twig compared to the man, but he nodded along with whatever was spewing out of the buff man's mouth.

"The only reason I am even here," he continued, oblivious to his new eavesdropper, "is because they give me food and I'm going to lead the expedition to to Orléans."

That's two reasons, France thought as she swept over to the pair gracefully. She forced a coquettish giggle and bat her eyes up at the hulking man. "Excusez-moi, monsieur, did I hear you say you were leading the expedition to Orléans?"

The man seemed overjoyed to have wrangled her attention and he pushed himself off of the side of the building and dusted his pants off as he smiled triumphantly at her. "I did say that, Mam'selle."

France blinked up at him once. "Well, are you?"

"Well somebody has to and I'm just the man for the job, don't you think?"

Typical. "Of course you are, but I thought that Mam'selle d'Arc was-"

She was cut off by his boisterous laugh which stunned her into silence. "As if that girl could do anything for the good of France. Ha!"

France did not bother to hide her shock. "B-but her vision-"

"Vision, smidgen," he cut across again, "anyone can make stuff like that up. And none of those pansies in court have been to battle, so they wouldn't know the difference. Besides, she'd just be distracted by all of the good-looking men around her, like me."

France forced a light chuckle. "Yes it seems hard to focus with so many distractions. I couldn't do it. If you'll excuse me, messieurs."

France swayed easily back to the palace for as long as she felt the man's eyes on her. Once they fell away, she marched furiously into the palace and stormed past the open court doors and up to her suite. A maid was in her room, cleaning the bedding, and was startled by France's aggressive entrance.

France stared at her for a moment before saying with an air of impatience, "Fetch Mademoiselle d'Arc and bring her here. I wish to speak to her."

The maid nodded and bowed out of the room.

Jean felt his heart stutter in his chest when he was approached by the maid and instructed to follow her to Françoise's chambers. By the time he- and Rémy- were outside of the doors, he was tempted to turn tail and run.

The doors to her room stood tall and imposing as Jean fretted over why she would have called him here, out of the court's eye. Did she..figure it out?

Rémy was standing next to him, eyes flickering between Jean and the door before impatiently stepping forward and knocking loudly on the door. Jean flinched at the echoing noise.

"Enterer."

Jean pulls himself together enough to lean forward to grasp the door handle and ease the door open enough for him and Rémy to enter.

Françoise was relaxing regally on a sette, a wine glass in her hand, the red of the wine catches the light off of the candles closest to her. Her expression is relaxed. Not irritated or infuriated or malicious, or any other emotion one would feel knowing that a boy had dressed as a girl to try to free France.

Jean was still petrified.

Somehow he managed to sit down, staggering slightly as he stepped on the hem of his dress as his clumsy feet moved him to the other seat in the room, Rémy standing behind him. Jean absently smoothed the fabric of his dress and tried not to look as though he were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Françoise took a sip of her wine. "So, Jeanne-"

"I'm sorry."

She blinked.

"Jean," Rémy hissed through his teeth.

"I beg your pardon. Sorry? Sorry for what?"

Jean paused. Surely she wasn't going to play this game with him? If she knew then she probably would have-

"For being late, Madam," Rémy said smoothly as Jean floundered for words.

Françoise opened her mouth but closed it soon after. She looked to the side, as though reminding herself of something. She looked up and expelled a breath up at her bangs, letting them lift and fall in the stream. She sighed and smiled crookedly at them and shrugged one shoulder. "It's fine. I wasn't waiting that long. So, Jeanne, I was talking a walk today by the stables. I stumbled upon some your reinforcements talking outside of the stable. I could probably point the man out, but I never got his name. But he seemed conflicted about your ability to lead the forces."

Françoise paused and lifted her eyebrows at Jean as she sipped her wine. "Well? Some sort of comment, please."

"Um-"

"The way I see it, Jeanne," Françoise continued as though Jean was not speaking, "is that you have won over the minds of the court, but your soldiers are not fully behind you."

"I should do something about that," Jean forced himself to say.

Françoise smiled over the rim of her wine glass, the ends of her eyes crinkling up in faint laughing lines. "Yes you should."

"What should I do?"

"That's entirely up to you, Mademoiselle," Françoise said, still with her coy little smile that made Jean's heart go ba-bump. "But I do hope it's something entertaining and fitting the savior of France."

ahaha that took way too long and it's way too short i'm sorry i've had this sitting on my drive and now if finally have an opportunity to upload it