The Children of a Prince

It was a cold night when the Queen of Aragon was taken to the confinement chamber, screaming with the pains of childbirth. The midwives were panicking, "The child will not be delivered."

"The child is stuck!"

"By God, pull I say!"

"A Prince!"

It was then the Queen passed out from exhaustion, but not before a smile crept upon her lips. Hours later when she awoke, she was weak but yearning for her son. "My son," she sighed. "I wish to see his face."

They brought him to her, swaddled in blankets, his eyes green and his skin dark. His dark colored hair brought out his father's eyes, and Beatriz felt love she had not felt since the birth of Beatrix two years earlier. The baby yawned and the mother sighed content. "Does my lord know?" she asked.

"No, Your Grace, he is out hunting and said he was not expecting to return this week." It was her friend Isabel, ever vigilant. "I suppose he believes the Prince means nothing." Her grimace faded though, and she smiled. "What is his name?"

"Alfonso Louis, for his grandfather," it had come to her in an instant that name. "He will be the first French Alfonso!"

They laughed, but it hurt Beatriz. "Pray for me Isabel. Some mothers do not survive the birthing, and I feel much weaker than I did with Beatrix. Take the babe."

News of the birth spread quickly throughout Europe. The King of Sicily was made a godparent, as was the King of England, in hopes of strengthening the alliance with the two. Surprisingly enough to the whole court, the King of England also offered his son, the Crown Prince of England, to Beatrix.

"My daughter, the Queen of England; I can see her in that position, if not for her supreme pride in her French and Aragonese heritage." Beatriz was sewing, it having been three months after her delivery of Prince Louis Alfonso. Isabel and her ladies, Antoinette and Joan were at her side.

"Yes, your daughter would make a suitable wife to the Prince. At even her young age, she's as fiery as he's reputed to be." This was Joan's soft voice. Everything about her, actually, was soft. Her hair seemed soft and her blue eyes, too.

"She shall have to put that past her if she ever wants to be a wife!" Antoinette exclaimed in her deep voice. She was four years older than Beatriz and was the cousin of Joan; her niece by her brother was also born on the same day as Beatrix, so they were companions.

Isabel laughed and looked at Antoinette bewilderedly. "Lady Antoinette, I do believe you should follow your own advice. No man would take such a woman as you – brash, impulsive, and disobedient. In fact, I daresay they would turn and run from you. You should have been born a man."

Antoinette looked smug at this, and laughed. Soon the chamber was silent again and they sewed, until the Prince her husband entered swiftly. The ladies quickly rose and bowed but Beatriz, as a monarch, remained where she was. "You are dismissed," he said to the ladies, and they strode from the room.

There was an uncomfortable silence, and Beatriz did not even open her mouth to acknowledge him. The tension in the air was practically visible, and soon her husband spoke. "Beatrix is to be sent to live in London soon, or we will lose their Crown Prince's hand in marriage."

No formalities, nor comforting words. Just the facts straight from his mouth, that her three year old daughter would soon be sent away, even further than a country home in France. "How soon?" was all she could ask. She felt herself grow weak and she wanted to vomit, or to wake up from an awful dream.

"Once her education is complete," at these words his eyes began to gleam. Ever since the birth of their son he had began to grow fonder of their daughter, and given her the best tutor he could find – for a Princess. Their son would be given much more of an education, undoubtedly. "Though her first words were French, her governess, an Englishwoman, has said that she can speak a multitude of English words with a light accent. She shall be a fitting ambassador to England."

Yes, of course. Political reasons for the marriage – influence French and English relations and be given a chance to reinforce Salic law that stated the succession could not continue through female descendants of the King. Aragon had followed that law, but given Aragon was Castile controlled, Beatriz used it to her advantage to revoke the law in her native land.

"I am sure she shall bring great French influence to the English court. Her sister, your daughter Therese, shall be her Maid of Honor." The words had come to her instantly, out of pity and anger. The child was emotionally neglected but her mother and she were given great luxuries because of their connections. Without the child much money could be saved and the mistress would be gone. The child was sweet too, and loved Beatrix very much.

The Prince nodded his head, caring not if his illegitimate daughter was buried alive. He fathered her a year before his marriage to Beatriz, and had discarded her as soon as the marriage took place. Then he spoke again, "I will send my other daughter Marie, the one born shortly before Beatrix, as well. I will be free of all my daughters." He laughed joyfully, and Beatriz suddenly felt very alone.