Chapter Four

Port of Laredo, Castile

T he gangplank leading onto the Julia was the first step into Joanna's new life.

The towering galleon, constructed of oak, had several decks and a squared-off raised stern. A long row of heavy cannons pointed their black muzzles through round gun ports, their wooden coverings propped open.

Colossal weathered ropes held the white sails tightly to the seemingly endless rise of masts. Atop the tallest mast, above the crow's nest, a large flag flapped lazily in the breeze—the flag of Castile and Aragon, four red, horizontal lines on a yellow background. Anyone approaching would be in no doubt where the ship called home. They would also do well to approach with caution if not a friend of Spain.

All around was hustle and bustle. Barrels, chests, and boxes were being loaded onto the deck. Chickens squawked in pens. A skinny, ginger cat scampered past, head down, and overhead gulls screeched and swooped.

"Your Highness," Beatriz said at Joanna's side. "Are you quite all right?"

"Yes. Yes." Joanna nodded. "I just didn't think it would be so big."

"I suppose it is better than being too small." Beatriz let out a tight laugh.

"Are you nervous about the voyage?" Joanna asked.

"Apprehensive. The ocean is deep. I cannot swim."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Joanna suppressed a shudder. The journey would take many weeks and she hoped the weather and the water would be kind.

She was a tangle of emotions. So much so her skin prickled and her heartstrings were tugging her back to Castile. Saying goodbye to her parents and siblings had been harder than she'd ever imagined. It was only now, not being with them, leaving them for the longest time, that she realized she'd perhaps taken them for granted. John and Isabella had been her best friends for so long, Maria and Catherine delights to be around with their childish inquisitiveness and wonder in all things new.

And now…now she wondered if she'd even be able to carry on breathing without them.

She dashed at a tear, not wanting to appear weak. She was a monarch, after all, and God's strength was within her.

"Your Highness, we are ready for you to board." The ship's captain stood before her. His round face was lined by the weather the way the ship's ropes were, and his gray hair thin and wind-blown. He wore a black blazer, black pants, and black boots. The only color on him was a red scarf knotted at his neck.

"Thank you, Captain Alonzo," Joanna said, gathering her gown. "I trust all is well with the Julia ." She nodded at the ship.

"She is a fine vessel. Solid and seaworthy. No shipworm, I can assure you."

"Shipworm?" Beatriz asked, pressing her hand to her chest. "What in God's name is that?"

The captain chuckled. "Nothing you need to alarm yourself with, madam, for there is none."

"That is a relief." Beatriz fanned her face. "I do not wish to sail with worms or any type of pestilence, come to that."

"You will be comfortable, I can assure you." The captain smiled. "A home from home. Come, let me show you to your cabin."

For a moment, Joanna hesitated, absorbing the solidity of the ground beneath her feet. The hardness pressing onto her soles. Spain. Her home. Her land. Her love.

"Princess?" Beatriz said, gently touching the small of Joanna's back. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. I am ready." She pulled in a deep breath and stepped onto the gangplank. She walked up it steadily and holding the hand rope. She hoped the ship would be stable underfoot. Already, her stomach felt queasy.

"This way," the captain said. "Don't trip on those." He pointed to a box of cannonballs.

"Oh." Joanna dodged them.

"And watch out for these peque?os cabrones ." He pointed to a gull. "They will take any food out of your hand and they will dirty your silk gowns with their shit."

"Duly noted." Joanna frowned at the huge bird who was studying her with beady, black eyes.

"Now here, be careful." The captain led them through a doorway and down a dimly lit narrow corridor. "If you have candles lit, they must always be in storm jars. The last thing we want is a fire on a wooden boat. Water all around does not mean we won't burn."

"Yes, of course. That makes sense." Joanna nodded.

He stopped at a doorway with brass hinges and handle. "The crew is under strict instructions that this is a female-only area. We have four maids on board who will deliver your meals and clean."

"Yes, the king and queen were very specific about that." Beatriz raised her chin. "The princess is to have a restful journey in the company of women only."

"And it is what she shall have." The captain smiled at Joanna. "Though do remember I am at your service. I will serve you in any way I can."

"I would like to be kept updated, daily, as to our progress," Joanna said. "I am a great admirer of Columbus and his explorations. I wish also to chart our progress on a map."

"You can read a map?"

"Naturally." She frowned at him.

He inclined his head. "I will not only ensure you are updated, I will do it personally and give you a nautical map so that you may study the route at your pleasure."

Joanna smiled. "Why thank you. I would enjoy that very much."

"It should be a reasonably smooth ride," he said. "Though the Bay of Biscay can be somewhat wild."

"‘Wild'?" Beatriz repeated with a grimace. "I knew we should have gone by land."

"And been at the mercy of King Charles? I think not." Joanna shook her head. "It would please him very much to see me dead before I can marry the archduke. It would stop an alliance that is sure to vex him in years to come."

"You will be quite safe with me, I promise you," Captain Alonzo said. "Remember that even when the ship lurches."

Beatriz paled. "Lurches…but I—"

"The sailors say there are three types of people," he went on, "the living, the dead, and the seasick. It is not pleasant, but it will pass…eventually."

"Seasickness," Joanna said, reaching for her cross. "Oh, dear."

"I do not like the sound of it." Beatriz frowned. "Her Highness is of a delicate disposition, like every princess and bride-to-be and—"

"Ah, now, let us get on with the task at hand. Take a look at your cabin." The captain smiled and opened the door. "Not as big as a castle but hopefully suitable for our voyage."

Joanna stepped into the cabin and her eyes widened. It was indeed much bigger and much grander than she'd imagined. The paneled walls gleamed. The small-paned windows let in a good amount of light and were strung with red, velvet curtains.

There were two beds, one a four-poster with red canopy and swags, and the other a smaller one with red coverlets. A large desk was set with books and a tray holding wine and goblets. A screen covered in images of exotic birds half-hid a bathtub and chamber pot.

In the corner her chests had been neatly stacked ready for unpacking into wardrobes set into the wall.

"It is perfectly adequate. Thank you, Captain." Joanna smiled at him then walked inside, over a red oriental rug, and set her fan upon the table. "And thank you also for your service. I will be thankful to both God and your skill and expertise when we reach our destination."

He smiled and puffed up his chest. "It is an honor to be at your service, Your Highness. And please, make yourself comfortable. I shall have Cook send in food shortly, for it is best to eat before we set sail."

"We are leaving soon?"

"The sooner, the better."

And with that, he was gone.

"What do you think?" Beatriz asked, pouring wine into two goblets.

"If it were to stay unmoving, I'd say it was perfect," Joanna said. "But the way everything seems to be anchored down…" She pushed at the lamp on the table, which didn't move, owing to some screws pinning it in place. "Reminds me that we are going to be rocked back and forth."

"It is summer. Perhaps the weather will be kind. We should pray for that." Beatriz passed her a drink. "You rest up. I will unpack your things."

"Thank you. Can you set out my books? On the shelf there, please."

"Of course, Your Highness."

*

Four weeks later, Joanna hung on to the post at the end of the bed and clutched her stomach. There was nothing left inside of her to come up. For two days solid, the wind had lashed the ship from every angle like a dragon huffing and puffing. The ocean boiled beneath them and sent sharp fingers crashing up to the windows. The cabin floor had become liquid, or so it seemed, sliding underfoot, dipping and rising as though navigating mountains and valleys.

"Oh, Joanna." Beatriz gasped, her formalities having slipped. "Please, what can I do to help you?"

"Nothing, my friend. You are in as terrible a state as I." She heaved then groaned. Was it better to lie on the bed in this condition and be tossed around, or hang on to the post and stagger but at least be upright? She had no idea.

"How long will this hellish storm last?" Beatriz was curled up on her bed, knees hugged in tight as she gripped the headboard. "It is as if the devil himself is stirring up the ocean and the Julia with it."

"It is evil, that is for sure." Joanna screwed her eyes up tight. She tried to think of the pleasant meadows of home. Gianna's sweet horse face. The sound of her sisters' laughter. The elegant painting in the library of a Spanish landscape she adored so. But nothing could take her mind from the dreadful sickness that plagued her. Not even conjuring up Raul's smiling face and soulful eyes. It was as if the seawater itself rushed through her veins, tightening her guts and stealing her vision.

The nausea was unrelenting. Having stolen her ability to eat, it now was taking her limbs and making them weak and shaky. A cold sweat peppered her skin, sternum, armpits, and back.

The ship lurched then fell. A book slid from the desk and clattered to the floor.

"Please, you should lie down." Beatriz went to move, as if to help her.

"No. No, please stay there. I can do it."

She lurched to the bed, falling onto it, and was instantly rolled to her stomach. She groaned and grasped the bedding. It smelled of ginger, a tonic Cook had sent up to her that had spilled.

"All we can do is pray," Joanna mumbled. "Pray that this is soon over or we die and are put out of our misery."

*

After eight weeks at sea, the Julia finally docked in the Port of Ghent. Joanna stood on deck with her headdress attached firmly and looked at her new lands. They were flat and sprawling, the buildings squat with tiled, orange roofs. There were lots of little clouds in the sky, flung like dandelion seeds over the blue expanse. Somewhere beneath them, the archduke waited.

The port, like the one she'd left in Spain, was a hive of activity. Wares and containers being loaded and unloaded, including her chests, which were being stacked onto a cart. She studied the mass of people, looking for her betrothed, even though his face was only a conjured image in her mind.

"Could I have the honor of escorting you off the ship?" Captain Alonzo asked.

"Thank you." She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. She'd become fond of the captain during their time together, despite the miserable two weeks off the coast of France. He was jolly and intelligent and also fair with his crew, from what she had seen. He was thoughtful of the needs of the women on board, which she appreciated. Especially when she knew for some of the sailors, they brought bad luck.

He led her across the decking, Beatriz following, and then assisted her onto the gangplank. When she reached the bottom, with the captain close behind, she was greeted with a familiar face.

"Lord Belmonte," she said, smiling warmly. "I was not expecting you here."

The nobleman stood before her wearing leather boots, suede breeches, and short-sleeved chain armor over a black tunic. A large, steel sword hung from his belt, along with a dagger. Around his neck was a rosary. He had a silvery scar on his cheek, slicing from just below his right eye to the curve of his mouth, and his dark hair was overly long, flaring out at his ears and nape.

Behind him stood two helmeted knights. Their Milanese full body armor shone in the sunlight. They too had swords and daggers and also a shield bearing the Trastámara crest. They stood with feet hip width apart, chins tilted, as if prepared for battle at any moment.

"Princess," Lord Belmonte said, "I am here at the request of your parents, and at your service." Belmonte dipped his head.

"At my parents' request?"

"They wish for you to have protection in a new court in a strange land."

Her heart squeezed. How thoughtful of her parents to send Belmonte and knights. Over the last weeks, she'd felt like a fragile fledgling leaving the nest alone, yet here was protection and support in the form of an old and dear friend.

She took his hand. "It is so good to see you. I had no idea you were in Flanders."

"It is a dangerous journey by land, but I made it some time ago." He gently squeezed her fingers.

"No matter the danger, it must be better than by sea." She looked at Captain Alonzo. "No offense, Captain, but you know the Bay of Biscay did not suit my constitution."

"It will never be so bad for you again," he said. "The first time at sea is the worst."

"First and last." At one point, she hadn't thought either she or Beatriz would ever smile again, they'd felt so wretched.

He chuckled. "I will leave you now and will pray for your health and happiness."

"I bid you farewell, Captain, and a good and well-earned rest here before your return journey. May God watch over you and all the souls who sail with you." She smiled at him then looked at Belmonte again. "Tell me, is my future husband here?"

"I believe he is waiting for you at Coudenberg Palace."

"Oh." She frowned. "I had presumed he'd be eager to greet me."

"My guess is he is a busy man." Belmonte gestured to a red carriage with large, wooden wheels and charged with four bay horses. "He has sent this for you and your ladies. Come, let us get on our way."

"Yes, thank you." She bristled, irritated that the archduke hadn't made the journey to the port.

"Perhaps he is hoping for a more private meeting in more congenial surroundings," Beatriz said, obviously sensing Joanna's frustration.

"Mm."

The interior of the carriage was plush and comfortable and Joanna stared at the passing countryside as they rattled toward the palace—her new home.

"I do still think that it is odd," she said to Beatriz. "That he wasn't there to meet me. The grand wedding ceremony is tomorrow. This is all the time we have to get to know one another before standing at the altar."

"You are already married by proxy."

"You make excuses for a man you do not know?" Joanna frowned.

"I know he is a man with great responsibility." Beatriz nodded at the window. "Land to rule over, people to govern. Perhaps he is ensuring there will be no pressing matters upon your arrival at the palace. So he can give you his full attention between now and the ceremony."

"I appreciate you trying to reassure me." Joanna tried to beat down the disappointment that she wasn't now traveling with Philip. After her long and arduous journey, surely, it was the least he could have done—to meet her as she'd stepped onto dry land.

Finally, the stunning sweep of flat landscape gave rise to the hill Coudenberg Palace was situated upon.

Beatriz leaned forward. "It is indeed a palace. I am not sure I could count all of those windows and chimney stacks."

"It will catch the wind," Joanna said. "The only hill on this flat land."

"Flat land that may well flood. It is sensible to be on higher ground, is it not?"

Joanna didn't answer. The carriage rattled past a herd of small, speckled deer and a copse of swaying, silver birches. Her knights traveled directly behind her on their horses and Lord Belmonte was in front. The rest of her entourage was responsible for the carts and mules that had been unloaded from the ship or gathered from the port.

Eventually, they came to a stop beside a sprawling flight of stone steps that led to the palace entrance. Great, gray urns held tall, trimmed bay trees and a red rug had been placed on the ground for her to step upon.

She studied the waiting group through the window of the carriage, searching for the archduke's mop of blond hair and his steely-blue eyes.

But she saw no such figure and when Belmonte opened the carriage door, the knights on either side of him, she pouted and stepped down. "This is Coudenberg Palace, is it not?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Belmonte said.

"So why is it merely courtiers here? Does my husband not wish to meet me even now?"

"I have come in his place and bring his sincere apologies." A woman stepped forward. Her sky-blue dress fitted her neatly, the waist nipped in and the neckline trimmed with lace. Her headdress was tall and a golden veil hung from the tip, sparkling in the sunlight. Her pretty features were petite, her mouth like a rosebud.

"And you are?" Joanna asked, looking her up and down.

"Margaret of Austria. Daughter of Maximilian, King of the Romans, and Mary, Duchess of Burgundy."

"Margaret," Joanna repeated, her perusal of her intensifying. "The archduke's sister."

"Yes." Margaret stepped forward and kissed Joanna's cheeks, first the left and then the right and then the left again. "My brother sends his regrets. He will be here shortly. I hope I do not disappoint you too much."

"I was rather hoping to see him at the port, at the very least upon my arrival here."

"My brother is a man of his own mind." Margaret smiled. "But I can assure you he is very keen to make your acquaintance. Shall we?" She nodded at the steps.

"Yes, of course."

Margaret glanced at Belmonte and then settled her attention on the two knights.

The knights clasped the grips of their swords. Energy and readiness came off them in waves. They didn't need to speak to harness attention.

"And these are?" Margaret asked, pausing.

Belmonte stepped forward. "Her Highness's personal protection on request of the king and queen, parents of the princess, duchess consort. You understand they are anxious. Their precious daughter is in another country, another court, one they do not know and its situation is in uncomfortably close proximity to their enemy."

"Very well." Margaret nodded, her lips tight. "Come, this way. I am sure you wish to freshen up after the journey."

"We were very comfortable on the boat, once out of the Bay of Biscay." Joanna walked up the steps, Margaret at her side, along with two skinny dogs with lanky legs, long noses, and whip-like tails.

"I have heard it is brutal." Margaret pulled a face. "A storm every day, even in the summer."

"You have heard right. I actually wished I would die at one point, the sickness was so extreme."

"How awful, but I'm so glad you didn't." Margaret smiled. "Or you would not be here at all."

Joanna liked her new sister almost instantly. She was warm and had an openness about her. She was also wonderfully elegant and beautifully dressed. The material of her gown and veil were of the finest quality. Perhaps there would be opportunity for Joanna to have some court clothes of a similar ilk. Maybe that was what Philip would prefer. Her Spanish traditional clothes might be strange to him. Which would be a problem, as it was all she had with her.

"This way." Margaret led her into the palace.

Courtiers were lined up beside the door and bowed their heads as she and Margaret walked past.

"The staff will bring in your chests," Margaret said. "And I'm sure your lady's maid will take it from there."

"Yes, she will. Beatriz is very capable."

Margaret gestured to a wide staircase. "This way to your bedchamber. I have warm lavender water awaiting you."

"Thank you."

At the top of the stairs and out of the view of the courtiers, Margaret stopped. "I have to ask." She gripped Joanna's hands. "I can hold my tongue no longer. Please, tell me what John is like."

"John."

"Yes, your brother. He is all I think of. All I want to know of."

Joanna laughed at the earnestness in Margaret's voice. "I understand your situation perfectly, for it has been mine also for the longest time."

Margaret smiled. "Please, tell me what you can. Be truthful. I can take it."

"Do not fear." Joanna fell serious. "John has a handsome face." She paused and circled her nose. "Freckles here, in the summer."

Margaret giggled. "Tell me more."

"His hair is brown, his eyes blue, and he is strong. He likes to ride and hunt and stick fight."

"And his nature?"

Joanna smiled. "He is clever and honest and most of all, he is very kind. He will think you are beautiful, of that I am certain."

"He will?"

"Yes."

Margaret clasped her hands beneath her chin. "You paint a good picture of him in my mind. Surely, he has some faults."

Joanna nibbled on her bottom lip. "Perhaps one." She paused.

"Go on." Margaret swallowed.

"He is terribly spoiled by Mother. She calls him ‘her angel.' Perhaps it is a son thing."

"Oh, dear." Margaret frowned.

"But it is not a terrible fault to be loved by one's mother, is it?"

Margaret looked away and reached for the cross at her neck. "Come, your bedchamber is just here."

After washing and sipping honeyed tea, Joanna made her way back down the wide staircase with Beatriz.

The two knights were close behind. They had waited outside her bedchamber door while she'd prepared. Big. Silent. Impenetrable.

"Ah, you are here," Belmonte said, looking up at her. "The archduke awaits you in the Aula Magna."

"Good. I have kept him waiting." She tipped her chin. "That is the very least I should do."

Lord Belmonte stepped close. He touched her cheek. "I have known you since you were a babe," he said quietly. "I wish only the best for you. Please remember that, whatever happens."

"You sound pessimistic about my future."

"On the contrary. I just wish you to know that my council will always be with your best interest at heart. My loyalty is to you and your family. This is a new land for me also. New people for me, like you, we have yet to know."

"I appreciate your allegiance. I really do." She smiled up at him. "You have reduced my longing for home considerably, Lord Belmonte. I will send my thanks to God."

"I am happy to be here." He stepped aside, his right arm outstretched toward the huge, wooden doors emblazoned with a golden eagle crest. "Now go and meet your husband."