Castelo de RĂłdĂŁo, Portugal. September 1496.
Juana walked next to her intended, under the watchful eyes of her father and his mother. She felt her heart racing inside her ribs as she looked at Manuel from the corner of her eyes, in awe of his greatness. He was much taller than her and carried himself with such dignity and modesty, such candour. Her betrothed was a great man, she was sure.
âPortugal is a very beautiful country,â she began, trying not to sound like a little girl. âThe little that I have seen so far, that is.â Manuel smiled.
âThere is much more to see,â he said. âIâll take you to Viseu and Beja, once we are married, for my country. Then to Lisbon. You should see all that we have to offer.â
âI canât wait,â Juana said with a smile. âIâm looking forward to our wedding. To finally perform my duty to you and to my family.â At the end of the week, they would travel to Castelo Branco and be married there, Igreja de Nossa Senhora das Graças and spend their honeymoon at the castle that gave the city and the region its name. It would be magical.
Manuel smiled. âAnd Iâm looking forward to the day I may be able to call you my queen.â He took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles.
Ferdinand, King of Aragon watched the two of them, some steps behind with Dona Beatriz. He was not offended to walk behind his daughter, not at this moment, as she talked with her intended husband. He could make an exception for her. It was in the name of happiness, after all. And young love.
âThey seem well-matched, donât you agree, Your Highness?â Dona Beatriz murmured. She wore a widowâs robes, finely made, but with a mark of mourning for both her husband and her butchered sons.
âI have no choice but to, my lady,â Ferdinand answered. He smiled at her. Dona Beatriz was a sister to his mother-in-law and he knew her well. Because of the familial bonds between Juana and Dom Manuel, Isabel and him had to secure a papal dispensation for the marriage, but it was not difficult. That lecher in St Peterâs chair always had a price to pay. âWhat fine children they will produce. Handsome heirs.â Dona Beatriz smiled. âAlthough I heard a rumour, that the deceased Portuguese king had extracted a promise from Dom Manuel before his death. A royal daughter for his illegitimate son in marriage.â
And much more too. Jorge de Lencastre was to be named Duke of Coimbra and Lord of Montemor-o-Velho if his will was followed. Ferdinand had also heard of a promise made to give Manuelâs minor titles to him. The Order of Christ, lordship of Madeira, not to mention the gifts that his own damnable father had already bestowed upon him in life. Young Jorge was Grand-Master of the Order of Santiago and administrator of the Order of Aviz, positions of great honour and power in the land.
If King John had his way, his by-blow would be the most powerful man in the kingdom and a great threat to Dom Manuel and Ferdinanâs grandchildren, when they eventually came.
âYou mustnât worry, my lord,â Dona Beatriz said. âOur shared granddaughter will marry whom her father wishes to marry. That bastard has been promised to Brites de Villhena, daughter of Dom Ălvaro de Bragança. She may not be an infanta, but she has noble and royal blood so King John can suffer easily in purgatory.â
Ferdinand nodded. That was a relief.
âWhen my daughter produces a son, that bastard will be toothless,â he murmured. âAnd whichever power he claims for his own will not be enough.â
âThe Lord is good,â Dona Beatriz said. âHe will not allow Portugal to fall into the hands of a boy born on the wrong side of the sheets.â
âPraise be,â Ferdinand responded. âI will leave Portugal and return to Castile before the week has ended. Iâm pleased to know that Iâm leaving my child in good hands.â
âManuel is a good man,â said Dona Beatriz. âHe will care for the Infanta. You mustnât worry.â
Ferdinand looked back at Juana and Dom Manuel. They had stopped by a rose bush and the Aragonese king watched as his future son-in-law took a pair of scissors from his waist. He cut out a rose by the stem, running the blade down to remove its thorns before he gave the flower to Juana. The act made her blush furiously, her face turning as red as her hair, but she smiled and took the rose happily.
âIâm not worried,â Ferdinand said.