Chapter 3
“Believe in yourself and all that you are. Know that there is something inside you that is greater than any obstacle.”–Joan of Arc
BOUDICCA LOOKED BEAUTIFUL AS she walked down the aisle. Full of strength. Full of life. Love. And hope. Joan had never seen her sister look more fully herself than when she walked forward into her destiny. It was a destiny that Joan had never thought possible, and she knew Bodi felt the same way. Did that knowledge give Joan hope? It should. It meant that love existed. Love was all around, if only a person was open to it.
It was marriage, but it was also so much more. Boudicca’s academy for girls was now part of her future. These were things that Boudicca had desired for so long, and now they were finally coming to fruition. All because she took a chance on love. Maybe more so because love first took multiple chances on her…but all the same. Love was giving Boudicca everything she had ever wanted. Joan was so happy for her sister and m aybe just a touch jealous. Not that she wanted Wes for herself in any way, but just…well, really…a future with someone you love and who loves you sounded rather nice.
The ceremony was taking place in Bellator Manor in the Practice Hall, with Boudicca walking down the piste toward Wes. Although the Practice Hall was hardly recognizable with all the adornments and flowers.
Seeing her sister carry her rapier alongside the bouquet made Joan smile.
But the moment that Boudicca handed that rapier to Wes…Joan couldn’t stop the tears. It seemed such a foolish thing to cry over. But it was the gesture and the sentimentbehind it. Boudicca wanted a partner in life. Someone who could challenge her, but also someone that could appreciate her strengths. Particularly when that strength overshadowed his own.
It was a rare man indeed who could appreciate a woman having an edge over him. And rarer still to find one that would celebrate that strength.
So often women had to hide their talents, their wisdom, their intellect. All because of the fragility of the male ego. If any one of the sisters had remained a spinster, Joan would have predicted Boudicca. She would never settle for anything less than perfect. Needless to say, Wes was perfect for her. He would be her partner in every way. Sharing the rapier was almost a gesture of equality in the partnership. Each of them had their strengths, and they celebrated that fact.
Being a witness to this great love was bittersweet. Joan couldn’t help thinking how profound yet how uncommon such relationships were. It was exceptional, in every definition of the word. Leaving Joan feeling anything but exceptional. She was confident in who she was, but she also knew that she was often under the shadow of blonde beauties like Bodi and Mimi. Whose attention might she catch? She couldn’t imagine.
To think of who Joan might pursue as part of the duke dare they had all agreed to, made her stomach flip over. It might have even rolled out a few somersaults for the amount of queasiness she was experiencing.
But she shoved those thoughts and feelings down for now. For as long as she could. Well, at least for the ceremony. This was supposed to be a sacred moment.
And it was. The vows that were shared between the two brought a fresh wave of tears to the sisters, and by the end of the ceremony, their handkerchiefs were saturated. Thankfully, the reception would not provoke any teary responses. The dinner and toasts were done, and a dance was underway.
Taking a short break, Joan stood with her sisters Mimi and Nobi watching the dancers.
“I can’t believe she’s married,” Nobi said in awe.
“If I hadn’t witnessed the ceremony I might not believe it myself,” Joan eyed the couples twirling about on the floor.
“I knew it would happen.” Mimi gave them a sideways smirk.
“Is that so?” Joan asked.
“It’s always the most resistant who fall first.”
“You,” —Joan placed a heavy emphasis on this first word in case Mimi wasn’t paying attention and then for good measure repeated the word— “you think Boudicca is the most resistant of us four?”
Joan watched from the corner of her eye as Nobi stifled a chuckle.
Without hesitation, Mimi retorted, “Of course she is. Who do you think it is?”
When Joan caught Mimi’s eye,both her and Nobi announced at the same time, “You.”
Mimi just waved her hand in dismissal, as if that small flick of the wrist could disabuse them of such a long held notion. And really, it wasn’t just that it was long held, it was rightly held. Artemisia was the hellion of the four. Point in case, one: she was the one who suggested the dare. Point in case, two: she never held back vocalizing her opinion. Point in case, three: her opinions were often in opposition to those around her. Point in case, now: her being resistant to the idea that she is the most resistant.
“You don’t see yourself as being resistant?” Nobi asked gently.
“No.”
“Not even say…right now?”
“Pfft…this is not me being resistant. Not really. At least not the kind of resistant I’m talking about. I’m open to love. I’d argue that I’m the most open to love out of all of us.”
Well, really, Joan didn’t have a rebuttal for that one. Boudicca had been a closed door, inside of a vault, under a rock. Nobi was like a timid child afraid to ask for what they wanted. And Joan…she wasn’t sure how to describe her heart’s openness to love. She supposed…she was open…enough. But perhaps she needed to know more about this openness that Mimi spoke of.
“How are you open to love?” Joan humbled herself to ask her little sister for advice.
