A Maiden's Solitude

In the silence of my chambers, I often find solace in the company of my armor. It is a familiar comfort, a reminder of the trials I face and the burdens I carry. The English may see me as a mere child, a foolish girl driven by the whispers of the devil, but I know the truth. I am the instrument of the Lord, a warrior chosen for this noble purpose. My armor is a testament to the power of faith, a shield against the doubts that would seek to consume me.

Some may think me a heretic, a woman who dares to take up arms and lead men into battle. But I know the voice of the Lord, and it tells me that I am not a man, nor a woman, but a servant of the divine. My body may be weak, but my spirit is unyielding. I will not be swayed by the whims of the crowd, nor will I be deterred by the scorn of the skeptics. I am the will of God, made manifest in this flesh. And I will not be defeated.

The nights are long and dark, filled with the whispers of the damned and the creaking of my armor. But in the stillness, I find my strength. I am a vessel for the Lord, a conduit for the divine. And in that knowledge, I am invincible. I will conquer the enemy, for the Cross shall never falter. I will not rest until France is free, until the English are vanquished and the Church is triumphant. For I am Jeanne, the maiden of Orléans, and I will not be defeated.