Disclaimer: not 100% historically accurate and some names were changed to fit the origins of the character. Also, the characters are not as old as they look in the series. To sum it up: I took lots of liberties in this in order to make sense. Enjoy!
Summer of 1315
The curtain goes up and our characters are on stage ready to perform with all their savoir faire. What you're about to read, I'm afraid, is nothing but the description of a chess game. There are many Pawns, quite few Bishops, many Knights, some Castles, a couple of Kings and only two Queens. As you might know, a Queen is permitted to wander around the board with no restrictions whatsoever. And like the other pieces, they only serve one purpose: to protect their King and subdue the enemy's. The Pawns are sacrificed for a greater good or so is the excuse. The more they take down with them, the better. Bishops, Knights and Rooks kill the rest and isolate the enemy's King. The Queen acts as a shield; no piece ever dared to disturb a King when the Queen is around to protect it. The Queen must fall so the King can be trapped. Once the Queen is slaughtered, the King is weak. He can only keep running or wait to be cornered.
The game was created mirroring reality. A King is not much without a Queen to give him sons and stand by him in his path. Women are comfort, love, tenderness, strength... A King is but a man, although he's treated as if he is an institution rather than a human being. Women too are humans, and they die and leave old Kings without heirs to carry the heavy crown upon their little heads. Queens are women yet they don't actually mean comfort, love, tenderness or strength or treated with care and respect. Their marriage is a contract, a little tit for tat; it's Business. When a King marries everyone is expected to celebrate for it often means the kingdom is going to be richer or remain at peace.
The country was celebrating King Leopold of Alsace's wedding to a young Aragonese noblewoman. She was Jaime, the second, King of Aragón's niece. She was daughter of his youngest brother. And now her beauty was being sung all over the country. Leopold's former wife had been a Norse beauty, skin white as snow, green eyes and hair black as ebony. Their daughter took her looks from her mother. She was as beautiful even as a child; she was ten. The monarch had loved his first wife very much but she was gone too soon due to a fever. The man was crushed with grief. This new bride seemed to please his court and his eyes, but she wasn't enough: she wasn't his former wife, his dearly departed Eva.
All happened very suddenly but carefully planned. He was destined to find her, anyway. But she came to him in her special way. The next moves in the Board of Life in these characters' story are simple and quite common: The Pawns move first. The circumstances in which Leopold found his new bride were, of course, predictable: His Majesty had been in a diplomatic trip with his daughter. It was very important that he could get the King of Aragón's truce; their war had endured for far too long. Both were tired and wanted to discuss terms, declare a stalemate, so they could go back to each side of their board and arrange it to be as it initially was. He was to stay at one of the royal family's estate in Molina de Aragón which belonged to Enrique, the Aragonese king's youngest brother, until he could resume his trip to Toledo instead of Zaragoza where he had been told Jaime was traveling to. Leopold's entourage comprised one hundred men from his guard, his daughter, her maid and an Interpreter.
He had dreaded the moment he would leave the castle to enter Aragonese territory. He was almost certain he would be ill received by the folk. However he was wrong. The people received him warmly in each and every little village or town he passed. Spanish people like the weather they enjoy every spring and summer, are warm in their ways; expansive and opened; they offered flowers to the little princess and morsels for him to enjoy on his way to the Molina's Castle. Children sang songs and waved at him. He understood that his presence there meant peace and that made people glad. Men fighting against him, parents, brothers, children and husbands would be back from war. Leopold found himself rather enjoying his trip. It was no longer a burden. The landscape was beautiful, green, golden and rough; the food was rich and delicious, and the wine the best he ever tasted... he couldn't complain. It was in a sunny summer afternoon, when they stopped for their horses to drink from the river, that his daughter's horse ran away, the child still on it. He sent two of his men to her rescue. What a surprise it was when a fair maiden appeared on a horse with his precious little girl sitting in front of her on the saddle.
Her skin was olive coloured and soft, her lips shamed the red roses, her hair was black as a moonless night and her eyes were big, chocolate brown and gentle, thusly disclosing her Southern origins. She bowed her head graciously and introduced herself gracefully in her mother tongue. The interpreter at the King's side conveyed the information. She was Regina de Molina, daughter of the Infante Enrique and Cora de Molina, Lords of Molina de Aragón. She bid him welcome and hoped he had a fine journey. She imagined he was very tired and would be honoured to escort him and his companions to her father's castle where he would find shelter and supper ready. He responded in his mother tongue that he was very pleased to meet her and was humbled and thankful that she saved his daughter's life and would be glad to join her and her family and tell them of her deed. The interpreter conveyed his message and the maiden smiled. The princess, Marie of her name, observed everything wide-eyed, marvelled with her newest friend. She was strange, fresh and wild, in comparison to other ladies of her rank in her father's kingdom.
Regina was petite but harboured great strength, maybe because she grew playing in the hills with children from the village. She looked astute, crafty and knowledgeable. She was far from being ignorant. Her father taught her Latin, Greek and Arithmetic, Geometry, Economics and Strategy. She knew how to read the skies and maps; she knew how to properly sew, paint, draw and was a decent harp player. She would tread the floor carefully but determinedly; her mother made sure of it. She was like a sword: beautiful, but dangerous in untrained hands. She was also a pious woman, who would attend mass every week accompanied by her parents and maid and give whatever she could to the poor; she had for example her aunt, Isabel, Queen of Portugal, married to King Dinis, rumoured to be a living Saint. She could also be found sometimes at her family's chapel, praying or just looking at the widow's colourful stained glasses.
Arriving at the castle, the King and Princess were greeted warmly and offered the best rooms and the most luscious meal the Infante could provide. Music was played at the Great Hall were the family received the royals for their feast. Enrique was humble and kind-hearted. He showed himself happy and proud of his daughter's part in the Princess' rescue when Leopold told him about it. The little ten-year-old was admiringly observing her saviour while she sipped from her glass of wine. Regina de Molina's hair was now decorated with jasmine flowers, ivy leafs and gold hairpins. The Spanish girl smiled, noticing Marie's gaze upon her. The King noticed their silent amiability towards each other. Minutes later, both were passing a grape at each other rolling it on the table, trying to avoid all the plates and glasses between them. The King, testifying their game, smiled rather amused by it. He decided, Regina's smile was to die for, but his Eva was still engraved in his heart. Regina de Molina's face was befitting of a Queen. He wanted her for his wife but knew he would never love her as he loved his deceased Queen. He rose from his seat and asked her, in Latin, if she would join him in a dance. She agreed, bowing her head to him. He could now see her beautiful face closer; he could now see the amber rim of her brown eyes, the little scar on her upper-lip, and the shape of her nose. How soft and warm her hands were! He led her gently in their dance. Her family watched. His daughter was awestruck by the way the noble lady was swaying with her long slow movements. The only one unimpressed seemed to be Doña Cora who was too focused on making sure her daughter would not fail a single dance step. When their dance was over, the King escorted the fair lady back to her seat. She smiled at him and resumed her game with the Princess, sparing a moment to look at her mother who looked displeased. She straightened her back and put a finger to her lips as to bid the princess to be quiet and pay attention.
The King began to say a prayer and then thanked his hosts for their hospitability and company. He said goodnight and everyone retired. Marie went to her room with her maid. From the room's window she saw two silhouettes running towards a tree, a hooded figure embracing the other. She smiled and went to bed. Next morning, the King woke up with the sun on his eyes. He went to the window and observed the wonderful view in front of him. The villagers were emerging from their houses; it smelled of freshly baked bread, burnt wood, olive oil and thyme. People began to barge in to dress him and serve him breakfast.
Enrique had plans for him for that morning. They would go and hunt in his estate's forest. The King agreed and took his finest esquires with him. The host chose two of his best horses, two Andalusia's mares, one for himself, the other for Leopold. After their hunt under a thick forest of oak trees, he went to the chapel so he would say his morning prayers and thank the Lord in Heaven for the hunt's bounties. In the family's chapel, he found none other than Regina, kneeling in front of the little altar, her hands joined and her fingers entwined, her eyes closed, a smile upon her lips which moved silently, carefully, not to offend God's ears. He joined her but did everything but pray. He acknowledged the way she let the beads of her rosary pass between her thumb and forefinger, the way her dark locks of hair fell down her back and mingled with the golden ribbon, the jasmine flowers and the ivy leafs. He memorised her scent and the way the sunbeams that broke from the chapel's windows caressed her olive skin. Yes, she was stunning, but nothing like Eva. His previous wife had love in her eyes; when Leopold looks into Regina's, he only sees compassion. When she was finished, she got up and went out smiling after properly exchanging greetings with him.
Leopold left the next morning to Toledo without Marie, who he entrusted with the Molina family. He couldn't afford to be distracted, not in such a crucial moment. His trip was brief but now there was peace between his country and Jaime's. Before going back to Molina de Aragón, Leopold spoke with Jaime about a possible union between himself and Regina. He asked the King for his blessing. By authorising the marriage, he said, he would strengthen their alliance and guarantee the peace between both of them. Jaime seemed pleased with the idea; he told Leopold that the young maiden would be a very good choice for a wife; she was educated and strong, beautiful, gracious and good. The visiting monarch went back to Enrique de Molina's castle and talked to him rather immediately.
His host, after much consideration ended up accepting his proposal, not because he wanted to, but because his wife had pressed him to do so. Cora wanted her daughter to be queen no matter the cost - even if it meant sacrificing her daughter's happiness. All Enrique had to do now was to tell the news to his Regina. He knew she wouldn't be pleased, much like himself. He would rather give her away to a local nobleman that would court her and earn her affections first before proposing. Leopold had earned nothing. He simply opened his mouth and voiced his wishes, because he had the power to do so. His brother, because he was a king, didn't even had the decency of consulting him about his daughter's hand before offering it carelessly to a man he barely knew and had been in war with since he could remember. If Regina would marry a local, he would be able to visit her, to get to know his grandchildren. Alsace was so far away! He wouldn't be able to visit her as often as he wished and he couldn't leave his domain without someone in charge of it. He wouldn't trust his wife with his precious lands. Oh, no! God forbid, he would leave his lands entrusted to Cora. Only the Lord knows what she'd do with all that power on her hands.
He walked to the garden where he had been told he could find his little girl. Regina was informed of Leopold's intentions that afternoon, while walking by the rosebushes. Saying she wasn't happy about it would be a huge euphemism: it meant to leave her country, her family, her people, her only friend and all she knew and loved. As they spoke, Leopold was telling Marie about his impending marriage to Regina de Molina, a marriage blessed by the Aragonese king himself. He felt proud as he announced the good news. He was going to have a new wife to keep loneliness away and his child would have a mother to care for her, to guide her through her young life.
The child was contented and praised her future step-mother as much as she could. She told her father about the time they had spent together in his absence, how beautifully she sang, how fun her games were and how strange her language was. Regina had been the one to keep her company and tuck her in bed at night. She even tried to repeat some words Regina had taught her but unsuccessfully. Leopold laughed at her frustrated tries. He was glad to know his daughter and future wife would get along just fine. It was less one problem requiring his attention. He had yet to meet his fiancé and speak to her after a week without even so much as a glance.
He found her in the garden sitting on a stone, looking down the hill to the village, a small bunch of red and white roses on her lap. He greeted her by kissing her hand, smiling; she greeted him bowing her head, but her smile faltered soon. They sat on a bench and talked for a while; he told Regina about how he missed his wife and the need of someone to love and guide his daughter, to serve as a role model. No one had taken interest in his daughter like she had. She had saved little Marie and he was thankful. She should consider their union as a way of thanking her for her kindness. She tensed at this. Not noticing her stiffness, he then told her about his castle, of his people, of his family. He even dared to tell her about some silly servants that drank too much beer on a winter night and decided to try and fly out of one of the castle's lower windows only to land in fluffy snow, face on. She offered her a little smile but no more than that. He felt her sadness, he told her he understood, after all, she had to leave her family behind, but assured her that he would try to compensate her for her sacrifice; he would treat her with the utmost respect and tenderness. She would be allowed to take her maid with her so she would someone familiar around. He spoke about the court and the people in it. She listened attentively with no expression on her face to all he had to tell her. Leopold grabbed Regina's hand, caressed it and swallowed in dry. Sensing she needed sometime alone, he left her to her thoughts and went away.
That night, something happened. Someone had tried to kidnap young Regina or so Leopold understood; a boy who worked in the family's stables. Leopold had heard screaming in the middle of the night and got up abruptly. He got dressed and when he arrived at the Great Hall he found Regina crying into her father's chest clinging on to him for dear life. Her mother was nowhere to be seen. Marie appeared to be still asleep, despite all the commotion. Leopold thought it would be better to leave them alone and left after exchanging some silent words with his host and future father-in-law. It was clear to him that the fair maiden was scared and distraught, something gruesome must have happened. Enrique de Molina stayed with his daughter, to brush away her tears and comfort her in her sorrow.
The next morning, nobody saw Regina but they did see her maid, Violante, going up and down the stairs with a tray with untouched food. Cora de Molina was oddly indifferent to the whole situation. Marie looked sad that day. She loved Regina already and it was painful to know her in such state. She offered to go up and keep her company but Lord Enrique discouraged it, telling her that it was best to leave Regina alone for a while for she was still very upset. He would know for he was the only one Regina allowed at her side that day, when the sun had already set. He had never seen his daughter so distraught. Regina was always so full of life, that day she looked dead. It looked as if she died. Her olive skin had turned white as the snow from Leopold's country's winters; her eyes had lost their joyful twinkle and were rimmed red, her full lips were dry and discoloured. Enrique noticed his daughter's pillow: it was wet, much like her face. Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke.
"Oh, my dear child... What made you so unhappy? You haven't said a word since - "
"Why did you let her kill him?"
"He was going to take you away from us."
"I wanted him to." She said, her voice cracking and the tears in her eyes crossing the bridge of her nose into her cheeks and finally into her pillow.
"Why would you want that?"
"Because I loved him, because I don't want to marry the King; I don't want the life she wants me to have. I don't want to rule Alsace, I don't want to leave... I know deep down you don't want this too, so please, father, don't make me, I beg you. Please, father; please!" Regina sobbed as her father lifted her up from the bed and hugged her tight, caressing her black tresses.
"Oh, my darling child; I already gave my blessing. I can't take it back. And your uncle, the King gave him his blessing too. Your union is a symbol of Peace between our country and Leopold's. It's not about us, our family; it's about our people. You'll be Queen and this is just the first of many sacrifices you'll have to make. It's regrettable that you and Daniel had to part this way. He didn't deserve his fate. I cannot find words to express how much I regret your mother's decision and my weakness, how sorry I am to see you grieving like this, for having caused you such pain."
"I loved him so much..."
"Forgive me, Regina. I've hurt you in the worst way possible. He was a good boy, always kind, always loyal. It surprised me that he would even think of doing what you mother told me he was doing. I'm sorry you had to watch; I'm sorry that you weren't able to say a proper goodbye but I promise you, my dear: he'll have an adequate resting place. It's the least I can do; I'll pray for him like I would pray for the soul of the son I never had and I know you'll pray for him as well; you'll pray for his forgiveness, as I will. I wronged you both."
"Mother won't allow it. She'll try to stop you."
"I care not about her opinion on the matter. It was my name she soiled. She hurt you by forcing my hand. I was but her instrument; I'm not a strong man as I should be. I couldn't protect you, I failed you as a father. Of all the strong men in our family you had to be born to the weakling."
"You mustn't say things like that, father. None of them are as loving or as kind as you are. I rather have you, Papa. My uncles are good and brave but they don't spare a single glance towards their daughters, they don't let them sit in their laps or dry their tears. They're not taught to love; they're taught to fight. Grandfather Pedro sent Aunt Isabel to marry Uncle Dinis when she was twelve! He's good to her and all, but no child should marry and take a crown upon its little head at that age!"
" Those who wear the crown cannot afford to love, Regina. I was the fifth to the throne, I'm just a nobleman, Lord of Molina de Aragón. I can do as I please. And I did. You're my only daughter and heiress. I could not part from you, so you weren't given to a man earlier in your life. I watched you grow as you ran through the fields, climbed trees and castle walls, robbed spears from the guards at the castle's entrance and hid them so they would run like headless chickens searching for them; and how you laughed! I was your father, your teacher, your friend; I could never give you away like they do their daughters, the way your mother wants. Some might think less of me for that, for not being like my brothers, for not selling my own flesh and blood like cattle to a man. And they'll condemn me. And do I care? Nay! You are my daughter... Mi pequeñita... Mi rayón de luz..." Enrique took his daughter's hand in his and kissed its back multiple times, letting some tears fall on it, passing an arm over her shoulders and tightening his grip on her. "You're worth a lot more than a ton of silver or gold or any kind of precious gem to me, my love; and our lord and king knows that. His Grace will know how to thank you, when the time is right. You represent Peace, your marriage will be considered an act of good faith and goodwill. There is nothing God loves more than Love and Peace. I must hope that His Majesty will be a good husband and will treat you with nothing but kindness, respect and love; like you deserve. He's grateful to you, for saving Marie."
"In that case, I rather he wasn't."
"You mustn't lose hope. Maybe, you'll learn to love each other in time, who knows? It's possible."
"No, Papa; I'll never love again... and no one will ever love me."
With that she fell silent. Enrique just sat there, holding her in his arms for what it felt like the last time. She fell asleep there, she was exhausted, he could tell. Grief had drained her. After sometime, he decided to leave and let her sleep. She had a long day ahead of her. He went to bed with the knowledge that Daniel's death was also his fault as much as his wife's. Regina had lost and important piece in her game and her father was blocked, unable to come to her rescue . She was now, defenceless against her mother.
Check.
So? Off with my head much? :P
