Arthur

Chapter 7

Elizabeth of York. London, England. November 10th of 1501.

 

I was pleased with the match, of course; I knew my son would find happiness with the Spanish Infanta, now Princess of Wales. I knew there was no better woman for him. But somehow, things did not seem right for them.

My son would often be very quiet while in her presence; he avoided speaking with her, even though they had two common languages. He barely looked at her during dinner services. The most of words they would exchange a day would not pass the usual “Good morning, milord” and “Good night, milady” speeches.

I knew how Catalina was feeling. A week after her wedding ceremony, she was forced to give up on her small court. It was not news for her, of course. Every bride was supposed to let go of her home court after she was wedded. But for a girl who had no friends in England, who was still learning to speak English and most of all, was used to be spoiled and served magnificently by her servants, that was a big strike for her.

She watched the ships’ departure from a window, looking serious and thoughtful. I knew she wanted to cry; I knew she was secretly wishing they could take her with them, even for a few days. She was only a sixteen year old child, missing her mother whom she adored, missing her land, her palace, the world she knew. But at the same time, that child was stronger than any other princess I had ever seen. Her mother had surely taught her well; she did not cry, did not complain or said a word.

I knew she needed a friend more than ever. So, that night, I invited her to my chambers. The Princess of Wales came punctually, wearing a magnificent blue gown that matched with the sapphires she had around her neck and hanging on her ears, as well as with her beautiful eyes. Slowly, she was learning to adapt to the English fashion; however, she did not give up on her Spanish pride, and would always proudly wear her lace mantilla covering part of her head, and letting the red cascade of hair fall down her back.

“Your Majesty.” She greeted me with a most graceful curtsy, along with her maid and lady-in-waiting she had chosen to escort her. I wished she had come alone, but I knew it was impossible. My own chambers were full of curious ladies studying the Princess from head to toe.

“Daughter, I greet you welcome.” I stood up and went to her with a smile, kissing her in both cheeks.

“It is an honor for me that you invited me to your chambers.” She replied in a perfect French. “I have wished to spend more time in your company, Lady Mother.”

“As I have. Please sit with me.”

Catalina was not at all comfortable with me. She behaved as the Princess her mother had taught her to be. Graciously sitting by my side, her expression was a riddle even for me, raised by the Queen of Riddles that was my Lady Mother. I knew the Princess was intrigues as for what reason I had invited her to my chambers, and I knew she was trying to read me as much as I tried to read her. Perhaps she could do a better job.

The young lady-in-waiting who escorted her, whom I knew to be called Maria de Salinas, sat by the Princess’ side, in a down chair, smiled at me respectfully and turned her head to the room, indicating she would not pay attention to our conversation. I liked that girl very dearly; she seemed to be the only loyal friend Catalina had, and I knew for a fact she was well-mannered and had no interest for gossiping, unlike every other lady I knew.

The maid, however, was the opposite; Doña Elvira stood behind Catalina as a vulture, looking rather unpleased as if she thought her protégé was not supposed to be there. She looked at me with a critical glare that really irritated me.