The Sins of the Maid of Orléans

The truth about my life is far more sinister than the Church would have you believe. I’ve been portrayed as a naive, pious child, but the reality is that I was a young woman consumed by desire and ambition. I reveled in the attention and power that came with my visions and my sword. The men who surrounded me, who claimed to be my guides, were nothing but lechers, preying on my youth and my innocence. And I, I played along, for I knew that it was the key to achieving my goals.

People say that I was chosen by God, that I was a vessel for the divine. But what they don’t know is that I had a very human weakness - my desire for men. I would often sneak glances at the soldiers, my heart racing with excitement. I’d touch their hands, their arms, and feel a rush of pleasure. And in the heat of battle, I’d lose myself in the thrill of it all, my prayers and my visions forgotten. It was a sin, perhaps, but it was also a part of me, a part that I couldn’t ignore.

Some say that I was martyred, that I died for my faith. But the truth is, I died for my desires, for my own selfish needs. I died with a man’s name on my lips, a man who had taken my virginity and my heart. It was a cruel fate, perhaps, but it was also a fitting one. For I was never a saint, never a martyr. I was just a woman, with all the flaws and desires that come with being human.