The dragon and the rose

Prologue I

Once a quaint petitioner came; an old woman, dressed in black from head to toe and with a veil covering her wizened face. But she was not like all the others, she did not beg for mercy for her husband or for her son, she did not come to complain about low wages or about poverty, she did not want anything but to see the eldest princess and she refused to leave until they granted her wish. Thus she was summoned for this woman seemed very eager and excited and for she was not that very precious for them then, she was still a mere princess and of that they had plenty and could have even more in the future. The old woman came very close to the princess, the latter's plams were sweaty, she was breathing quickly and she did not know what to do nor what to say. She looked around herself but everyone seemed to be very far from her, scattered all over the grandiose throne room and none of them paying any attention to the little girl. She felt lost and almost like she was separated from them, from their chattery little world by that black veil, the veil the woman took off and then crouched down, looking into her emerald-green eyes and inspecting her small, chiseled face. She nodded as if satisfied with what she saw and then began whispering. She heard her every word and only that did she hear and she saw every darkness that was in the woman's eyes and only that did she see. She would remember these words for the rest of her life.

„I had a dream, princess, a dream about you and a dream about your destiny."

„The rose sways to and fro,

The dragon falls and rises in the colour of the rose,

The rose turns green and the dragon red,

Blood dripping from both."

She stopped, seeing the princess's furrowed brows; she did not understand anything of this weird woman's words.

„You will be glorious. A woman worth singing odes about, a woman worth dying for, a woman who would lead our great nation. But do not aim too high, for then you'll fall and everyone that you love will fall before you."

And after closing her mouth, she curtsied very lowly and very clumsily and uttered something under her breath, something that was barely audible but she seemed very sure about it anyhow.

„Long live, my queen!"

And the princess could never forget about those four words ever again.

Then suddenly she felt like she had been hit by a very heavy blow, she stood there, looking after the woman but could only see the darkness that was surrounding her, coming nearer and nearer, embracing her, caressing her and then suddenly, suffocating her. She collapsed, hit her head onto the hard, cold ground and then finally, the darkness dispersed and they noticed her.

They thought that she had been bewitched, enchanted, maybe even possessed. Priests were trying to expel the demon that – in their opinion – had possessed her for three constant days. She did not utter one word through those horrible days for what she had heard had surprised and frightened her and she daren't tell about it to anyone. On the fourth day, she eventually started to speak again, though she said nothing of the incident, but the priests thought that the expulsion was succesful, that they had driven out the evil of the poor princess and that she was fine again. Everyone wanted to forget about the incident very-very quickly, they may have all forgotten it the next day but the princess never could.

And then suddenly, only a few weeks after the peculiar incident, her brother, Prince Filip, who was the heir apparent to the Asturian throne and who was followed by the girl in the line of succession, was struck by the mysterious English sweate. A disease that originated from England and travelled through the continent only to reach the Asturian court and kill the Crown Prince. Not even the king's best physicians knew the cause of it, nor how to treat it, nor if it could be survived or not. For the sweating sickness was very unique in every person that contacted it and thus nobody knew if it was that very same disease or just an even more bizarre one. The queen thought that he had been cursed, the very same priests that had cured the princess so successfully came and tried to save him but it was all in vain. And the princess could only think about the woman and her words that seemed to become more and more real. The queen, the princess and her two sisters went into confinement and prayed for the prince's salvation for there was nothing else they could have prayed for; the prince died the day he contacted the illness. Two servants were struck as well but one of them miraculously survived. The queen and the princesses only left confinement four weeks after the prince's death though they couldn't have hid from this mysterious illness. But their destiny was not to be killed by it.

By then everyone – except she- knew that the eldest princess was not a mere princess anymore; she was the heir presumptive, the next in the line of succession for the Asturian throne. Then one day her mother put her hands on her shoulders confidentially, looked into her green eyes very seriously and told her the following words:

„You are my eldest daughter, Isabella Constanza, and thus you will follow your father on the throne of Asturias and rule this great nation of ours with pride, dignity and verity. I somehow always knew that you were special, my dear."

She started having even more lessons, her father also spoke to her about her being the Crown Princess and even though the people were still expecting a prince, he started giving her lessons himself. He talked about the country's history, about what had happened and also about what was currently happening in the land. About their allies and about their enemies, about the war she barely remembered. And then the lessons started to become more and more frequent, more and more concrete and more and more about how she should, when the time comes, rule the country. For no prince was born, only two more princesses, and eventually everyone realized that they had to be satisfied with her, a girl, a princess and their future monarch. 

(P: Paolo Veronese - Potrait of a Lady)