#ch.lorraine

It wasn’t moving water that paralyzed her. She had appreciated the crashing of beach waves and the foaming, rushing flow of rivers. The waterfalls in Yaas had captivated her. The problem was still water. Placid and smooth, the expanses of lakes and ponds and swimming pools unsettled her to the core. Others saw them as gentle and inviting; these comely traits, to her, were the duplicity inherent to any natural danger.

As with many fears, this one had been formative. These bodies summoned memories of gasping and flailing—a visceral recollection of the moment in which her swimming education both began and ended. The publishers would report that she refused to bathe in tubs or put her face beneath a shower head. These details were embellishments, but they knitted together the perfect narrative to rendered the death star-crossed, inevitable, and shadowing even in the unobstructed light of day. With such winking glints of absurdity, a deluge of articles teased intrigue from something utterly ordinary.

Indeed, that was the wretched truth with which the family had to contend, even as days of newsprint consoled the public with fantasy. Once the body was recovered a few hours later, the coroner called it what her fellow passengers had assumed: an accident. People drowned in Uspana every day. Such a demise was considered divinely favored, and the context—the story that underwrote it—didn’t matter. The mountains claimed their favorites regardless of whether their lungs filled with a few inches of bathwater or deep inhales of Canarís Bay saltwater. These favorites were regular people. They were also, from time to time, royalty.

The cause was misadventure, not malevolence.

Still, when Beatriz stumbled over to the telephone on the day she received the news, she took a deep breath to steady herself and said with conviction, “Arnaut, he's finally killed her. Please come home.”

TRANSCRIPT:

[A] Boating? Seriously? [S] New yacht, too. He named it the Safyanora. Sweet, isn't it?

[A] I just can't believe he convinced you to go on it. [S] Me either.

[S] We've been giving each other space for a few weeks. [A] Is that what you call it?

[S] I should put in effort, you know? Be forgiving. [A] You do. You are. The problem is when he takes advantage of it, which is every single time.

[S] Friends will be there with us. There'll be no fighting—not the terribly unfun kind, anyway. [A] {Sighs.}

[A] And you're still not wearing the ring?

[S] For now. We'll see how I feel after this trip. [A] Uh huh.

[S] He promised a romantic getaway! Maybe that's what I need. [A] It's true. You work too much.

[S] No, you don't work enough—[A] Hold on. Someone's here.

[S] I can let you go … I do have work to do. [A] {Chuckling.}

[A] Abelina, tell Auntie hello. [AB] Hi Safy! [S] Hello, baby girl.

[A] It's bedtime story o'clock, unfortunately. [S] I'll call you when I'm home in a few days. [A] Good. I love you. Have fun. [S] I love you, too. Goodnight.

[S] {V.O.} Hi Mama. Sorry I missed you.

[S] {V.O.} We arrived in Intizara a couple days ago. There were more cameras than usual. It was disconcerting.

[S] {V.O.} Anyway, I'm calling you from the water.

[S] {V.O.} Aren't you proud of me? {Chuckles.}

[S] {V.O.} Manuel and Eita are with us.

[S] {V.O.} We're having fun, all of us.

[S] {V.O.} I needed this.

[S] {V.O.} We needed this.

[S] {V.O.} I know you don't want to hear it, but he's making an effort.

[S] {V.O.} I feel hopeful. Call me back. I love you.

[B] {V.O.} This is not a message for voicemail.

[B] {V.O.} I wish you had come to the phone just this once.

[B] {V.O.} How do I say this? It's unspeakable.

[B] {V.O.} {Sighs.}

[B] {V.O.} Arnaut, he's finally killed her.

In truth, the family’s practice of mourning varied enough to warrant a white lie to the public. Some did indeed take the traditional approach. Rodrigo, Matias, and Leonor all sequestered themselves away to a degree; they engaged in that esteemed “true reflection” with only their selves and their memories as company. For others, the dictates of tradition mattered less. Their mourning looked like clinging to routine, revisiting familiar places, seeking comfort in the presence of others. Beatriz returned to Yaas for the first time in years, welcoming for once the way her childhood haunted it. Contemplation could find its way into these activities—in the tranquil baking Olalla did or the letters Mateo wrote to his father—but not everyone was willing to allow it. They formed a spectrum in their grief, one that none policed or much noticed.

Fashion is a Royal (and Family) Affair

That Crown Princess Barbie is a student of Uspanian style isn’t a surprise. For this issue, she recounts the historical episode at the heart of our memorial for the late Queen Beatriz. Pictured above in private photos are: Mother Desideria in 1860; Mother Zuriñe in 1885; Mother Rowena and then-Crown Prince Alfonso in 1926.

THE “BIRDIE” ISSUE OF VOGUE USPANA debuted in 1973. At the time, the magazine was in its infancy. An issue shaped by the queen—and it was, from cover to cover, driven by her desires and presence—ensured longevity. It proved to be a bestseller. Clothes, too, flew off the racks as Uspana’s designers received a boost among popular consumers. A textiles renaissance commenced among women of a certain class who had been looking elsewhere for quality fabric. Then and now, this was the mission of the magazine: loyalty to Uspanian fashion. The Birdie issue was a testament to this, from the sensibilities it imparted to the sourcing of its materials. The queen’s favorite designers, stylists, and photographers filled the issue; it made them iconic, and they would continue to set national trends for decades to come. More importantly, the Birdie issue fit into a larger project underway during Beatriz’s reign. Foreign fashion’s creep into the Uspanian mainstream had started two centuries before Beatriz obtained the Crown, but it reached its cultural apex under the sway of her mother. Uspana’s people had long reviled Queen Rowena’s taste in one breath and wished to emulate it in the second. The two women were not seemingly opposed in a diametric sense. They overlapped under the label of “extravagant,” namely, but Beatriz was forgiven her excess. The Birdie issue, in retrospect, shows why. In an initial meeting with the queen, she told then-editor Lluc Soler that she cared deeply about a “revival” of traditional fashion in the country. Soler replied that traditional fashion was alive and well—“in the mountains, with the grandmothers.” Some in the annals have suggested that this retort led to control of the issue being ceded informally to a team with whom the queen preferred to work. (By 1975, Papan Ibarra had risen from those ranks to become the magazine’s new editor-in-chief, a position she occupied until 1991.) Nonetheless, a certain truth in Soler’s statement formed the foundation of the issue. It did draw heavy inspiration from those grandmothers in the mountains. This included people such as the queen’s own grandmother, Mother Zuriñe, who readily embraced the aesthetics of Yaas and was a master weaver in her own right. The cover reflected the elevated homage orchestrated within. On it, Birdie herself posed in a wool rebozo hand-dyed with cochineal. This garment was a perfect duplicate of the so-called suncloths the queen’s great-grandmother, Mother Desideria, wore on a regular basis in the late nineteenth century. Fittingly, it was also topped with a replica inspired by the time. One of the many jewelry pieces destroyed during the 1880s had been the Shield Flower tiara with its red fire opal set in gold and symbolic allusions to the sacrifice and self-immolation of Uspana’s founding mothers. Queen Beatriz wore tiaras on many occasions, but it was widely known that she preferred to wear the true Uspanian symbol of elite regalia: the jade necklace. For that reason, jade