Sci - Fi Short Stories

Underground

Granada – 1499

“Infanta, it is time to go.”

Catalina did not answer; she continues to stare at her image at the silver mirror, carefully training her expression.

The big day had finally arrived. The day she had waited for ever since she was a child; her destiny, her fate, her duty and her life. The Infanta of Spain was finally leaving her comfortable and beautiful home in Al-Yanna, leaving her beloved parents and sisters, to go to England, where she would marry Arthur, Prince of Wales, and one day, become Queen of England.

“Infanta! We must go now!” Dona Elvira, her laid-in-waiting, called, irritated.

“No, we do not!” Catalina replied. “I must go whenever I believe I do. I shall take my own time. I am Princess of Wales, and I shall be Queen of England. I am surely supposed to take my own time.”

Dona Elvira shook her head and mumbled, but Catalina did not pay attention; she liked the woman almost as a second mother, but that moment was too important for her. She studied every feature of her face carefully, the seriousness of her sapphire-eyes, the perfect line of her rosy lips, her auburn hair falling down her shoulders and curling on the edges just as orange shiny cascades.

“Catalina.” A voice called from the door. The girl turned and saw her mother, the great Isabella. Catalina managed a graceful curtsy to her, with the trained expression, and her mother nodded in approval.

She said. “I am proud of you.”

The Infanta felt the urge to smile, laugh and hug her mother – after all, she was only fifteen years old! But she was very-well trained to not to do such things. She simply looked down for a second, humbly, and then looked at her mother again.

“It is hard to see my last girl leaving.” Isabella continued. “But it is your duty. It is God’s wish that you become Queen of England, do not forget this, Catalina. He trusts you to continue my fight for His cause in your kingdom.”

“I know it very well, Mama.”

“Do not end up like Joanna.” Isabella said. “Your poor sister has lost herself for love, foolishly, and embarrasses not only herself but us all with her actions. Be the Queen I taught you to be.”

Catalina’s chin went a bit up, and she replied, proudly, “Aren’t I already?”

Isabella shook her head. “No, querida. You have not fought for your kingdom. You father and I secured your position from your birth, and now we send you to your destiny, as God wishes. But you are not yet Queen. You might even be crowned and sacred, yet you won’t be entirely a queen. Only when you learn to love your land, and when you fight for it, following God’s will, you will be truly Queen of England. I have fought for Spain to protect it from the heretics and I have won the war. You have work to do in England.”

Catalina was confused; she blinked and asked, smoothly: “Mama, I do not understand; I thought I was fated to be Queen of England. Why are you saying I am not yet queen and that even when I am crowned I might not yet be one completely?”

“I chose Arthur of England for you for a reason.” She replied. “I know you are capable of being Queen. It is your destiny and you will be Queen. But the path shan’t be only roses and joy.”

Even though Catalina did not understand it, she nodded, with a smile.

“Very good.” Isabella said. “This is what I expect from an Infanta of Spain.”

“And the Princess of Wales.” Catalina replied.

“Por supuesto.” Her mother said, kissing her forehead. “Now, go. The old crone is right, you must go now. God forgive me for sending Dona Elvira with you, but He knows I need a shrew to protect my girl.”