BATTLE BORN

THE ENGLISH HAVE always been an enigma for someone like him. A country that’s presented itself as a worthy ally, though not by his own hand. For his sister is one of the only ties he bears anymore. But Fernando can’t help but wonder if he were to ask her now how she felt, she’d be dissatisfied. The conflict only left her without a husband and a b a s t a r d on their throne. And while he wonders how far loyalty can spread before it’s too thin, the king remains passive. If events continue the way they have tonight, their problem may just solve itself. 

He leans back against a wall as panicked onlookers pass by. Their hushed whispers of the prince and poison do little for him. It’s all a facade. When they return to their chambers the r e a l emotions will come out. ❝ To only be a fly on the wall. ❞ The king mumbles to himself.  

WHILE THE OTHERS remain in the hall gossiping like hens, he’s already grown bored. It isn’t the first time he’s seen such a statement made, and it won’t be the last. Royalty and nobility is a c a n c e r . It’s a circle of spoiled children who always get their way until the day they don’t. And when they don’t they misbehave, throwing stones at one another until the ‘enemy’ falls. It’s a game that he’s forced to play despite the endless exhaustion that comes with it. Loyalty means little in his world, that much he knows. 

His temporary freedom comes from the gardens. Normally filled to the brim with children and nobles alike, it’s eerily empty amongst all the chaos. While flowers do little for him, his dark eyes manage to study a lone lily that blooms alone in a sea of green. With calloused fingers he finds himself gently brushing the white petals. ❝ It seems beauty has found itself in such a wretched place. ❞ He whispers. 

SHE’S STILL SO young in his eyes. Even if his own children are years behind her. She doesn’t bear the sharp tongue of Juana, or the sadness in her eyes like Isabella. There’s almost an i n n o c e n c e there that’s he’s never quite understood. A king couldn’t afford innocence. He must bear the burden of difficult decisions and endless obstacles. And while he shouldn’t care whether or not she’s effected by the latest turn of events, the little loyalty that exists in that shell of a body extends only to family. The others wave their fans and cry fake tears while his only concern is that Castile and Aragon remain away from it all. 

❝ Is this the first time you’ve witnessed something like this? ❞ Curiosity fills his voice despite not being one for small talk. ❝ You would think some have forgotten we were just at war. ❞ 

HE’S SPENT HIS entire life consumed in his own kingdom. The rest are just outsiders that only provide usefulness when he wants something. Though Castile and Aragon need little anymore outside of themselves. He can’t afford the c h a o s that England has brought with the poisoning of their young prince. Thoughts drift to his sister, one of the only reasons he bothers to remain in the country at all. He wonders if the others are consumed the way he is. The way they all smile yet still remain loyal to the Scottish. Are they the fools, or is he? 

❝ They say the war is over, yet they all carry knives beneath their cloaks. ❞ 

THERE’S ONLY SO many childish screams and whispers of gossip he can take before he’s grown bored with the recent events that plague their mission of peace. Were he a softer man perhaps he’d feel pity for the prince he’s promised his allegiance to. But only f o o l s assume safety in a room filled with vipers. The king finds himself years away from the chaos. Underneath the darkened sky, only stars illuminate his scarred features. When his gaze falls upon the sea in the distance a pain fills his chest. How long until his ship is bearing through those waves, saying goodbye to this dreaded country on the horizon? At their current rate, his eldest would be a man before a crown fell upon the prince’s head. 

❝ If only time moved faster. Perhaps this would all be over. ❞ 

HE’S GROWN ACCUSTOMED to it. That suffocating notion that nothing is real and they only show their faces to delay further wars. Though whatever fool decided to poison the b a s t a r d prince appeared eager than most to move past the facade. A single piece of paper held their future as nations in the balance yet all it took was one cup bearer’s carelessness to nearly destroy it all. A clever plan he wish he’d curated himself. But despite his greatest desires, he’s taken to observing everyone else. Let them be the fools to fall on their own swords. He’ll make whatever he can of the mess they leave behind. Years of carrying the burden of a crown on his head taught him that those who meddled behind closed doors often emerged victorious. While rebels choked on their own ambitions. 

❝ It’s a shame isn’t it? ❞ His voice is laced with the same facade as the rest of them. Pretending that a tragedy occurred when it could have been a blessing. ❝ It’s been so long since I’ve attended a party, and they’ve gone and ruined it. ❞  

ITS BEEN AGES it seems since he’s laid eyes on her. Yet the stark darkness in her tresses and the pout that reminds him of his own wife remains the same. Time escapes him, and he’s forgotten how long it’s been since her sister’s kingdom promised the young woman to France. A part of him w o n d e r s if the war weighed as heavily on her as it did on him, and the other part reminds the king that he only should care for himself. Juana’s kin were meant to be her burden, just as his brother and sister were inevitably his. But those thoughts do little to stand in the way of the ghostly smile that tugs against his lips. Perhaps they would only ever reunite under dreaded circumstances, such as the attempted poisoning of a bastard prince.

❝ I thought I might find you here, despite all the chaos. ❞ 

A  SOFT  SIGH  .  “  oh  what  a  tragedy  we  had  last  night  .  that  poor  ,  poor  ,  man  .  he  shall  be  in  my  prayers  .  ”  lashes  flutter  in  well  practiced  emotion  ,  lips  curving  downwards  .  she  cares  little  for  the  life  of  the  man  ,  shows  compassion  as  a  front  .   “  and  to  think  ,  it  could  have  been  any  one  of  us  !  ”

                  /         @arxgon  .

HE IDLY WONDERS how genuine any of it is. If any of them actually have a care in the world about the future king. The voice beside him trembles and he wonders if it is a noblewoman or an actress who expresses such grief. ❝ That’s the consequence for surrounding yourself with enemies. ❞ He replies with a soft sigh. ❝ They’re always waiting to strike. ❞

IT WAS WRONG. It felt as if he were trespassing, a stranger meant to wander anywhere but there. A lifetime ago there was a stirring in his belly and a flush in his cheeks at the thought of seeing her. When he’d b u r s t through the doors of their chambers until nothing but fumbling hands and tangled torsos were illuminated in the candlelight. But that was long before ❝ ours ❞ turned into ❝ yours ❞ and ❝ mine. ❞

Her chambers were a sight Fernando convinced himself he’d never lay eyes on. Their stay was temporary, and the silent war that waged between them had no intention of ending. He leaned back against the deep oak of her bed frame, dark eyes falling on any object in the room besides her. For gazing at her dressed in a nightgown only brought back memories that haunted him like old ghosts.

❝ I suppose you’ve heard by now what they did. ❞ There wasn’t surprise in his tone, for anyone could have guessed what others were plotting behind the bastard prince’s back. ❝ We’re supposed to be enraged. But I can’t help but wish the poison would have killed him. It could have saved us the grief of this alliance. ❞

GISELLE  LETS  OUT  A  SOFT  SIGH  .  she’s  just  stepped  away  from  a  terribly  dull  duke  ,  his  poor  skills  on  the  dance  floor  and  the  slow  tempo  boring  the  french  woman  .  “  i  should  hope  that  once  more  wine  is  passed  around  ,  this  stiff  propriety  will  cease  .  ”  she  glances  around  ,  eyes  lingering  on  the  musicians  .  “  surely  even  the  english  know  how  to  enjoy  themselves  .  ”

                    /         open  starter  .

IT’S PAINFULLY OBVIOUS THEY aren’t there for entertainment. Though for him it’s a m u s i n g to gaze at all the nobility as they stiffly stand beside one another. There’s an air to all of them, sizing one another up as if the treaty is the only thing standing in the way of chaos. A smirk tugs against pale lips at the voice beside him. ❝ I doubt wine will do much good. Other than revealing everyone’s true disdain for one another. ❞

MAY I PRESENT FERNANDO II OF HOUSE TRASTAMARA, THE KING OF ARAGON AND KING CONSORT OF CASTILE. THEY HAVE JUST CELEBRATED THEIR THIRTY-FOURTH NAME DAY AND ARE KNOWN TO BE VERY + DISTANT & -PERCEPTIVE . WE HOPE THEY ENJOY THEIR TIME IN ENGLAND.