She darted a look at Beatriz. “Yesterday, Latina discussed with us the words of Aristotle.” Maria’s face frowned in concentration. “Juana – do you remember?”
“‘Men’s courage is shown in commanding and women’s in obeying,’” Juana answered.
Thoughtfully, the queen picked up the spindle again, her long fingers pulling at the woollen thread from the distaff, keeping the thread taut and even. She glanced aside at Juana. “‘And the male is naturally more fit to command than the female, excepting where there is a miscarriage of nature.’” The queen laughed with grimness. “I have heard it all before, and too many times. Aristotle also said, ‘The male is by nature superior and the female inferior; one rules and the other is ruled.’ I confess something to you, my hijas. I think often of the words of our ancestor, Alfonso the Wise. He said, ‘Had I been present at the creation, I would have given some useful hints for the better ordering of the universe.’” Her spindle stopped twirling and she yanked at the thread. “This world is a hard one for women, but we make the best of our lot. Since time began, men and women suffer and learn... women most of all.”
The queen straightened. “Learn from me here, my hijas. Let your husbands think they are the head, let them be the head when times allow, but always be ready to do what God tells you is right. Listen to your hearts and souls, as well as to your minds.” She drummed the spindle against the black velvet of her habito, pulled taut over her thigh. “You four are hijas of two proud royal houses. Your marriages will work towards giving our land stronger ties and power throughout Christendom, all for the glory of God. Think too what it means for your brother if we place his sisters in positions to help him as the king ruling two kingdoms.
“My hijas, work towards forging strong friendships and alliances with people who will best aid and shield you in the future when you no longer have my protection. Whatever befalls you, be watchful. Keep your people close. Never forget to reward those who deserve it, those close to you, and those you want closer. Punish those who betray you and never, ever show yourself weak.
“Hijas, remember this, too – keep your hearts and minds chaste and your bodies from ill and wanton company. Your grandmother raised me in honesty and with much care for my purity, and I have done the same for you girls. ‘Tis not just your bodies I speak about here. I tell you in truth, we gain nothing if we lose our souls. Rulers, too, must remember this.” The queen grinned, a smile embracing all her daughters in its warmth. “We are the blood of the Trastámara. Strong, God-fearing women make up the fabric of our royal house, women you can be proud of – think you of your ancestress, Saint Isabel. My four girls will be worthy of them, for already you make me proud. Enough said.” She glanced at Catalina. “Child, do you wish to begin us in Latin conversation?”
Dropping her spindle upon her lap, Catalina sat straighter, her hands holding the sides of her square stool. She nodded, her eyes alert, shining, eager.
The queen laughed, a gentle laugh she saved for private moments with her children. “Uno Piqueño, your poor mother became a student far later than you. Pray, give me at least a few minutes before you outpace me. Indeed, if all you girls could remember who is queen here?”
Seeing the queen’s proud gaze, Beatriz joined in with her daughters’ laughter before re-opening her book and resuming her reading.
CHAPTER THREE
If you can’t bite, don’t show your teeth. ~ Castilian proverb
“C ould we not go and see my brother?” Catalina asked. Beatriz sighed. Their imminent departure had disturbed today’s lesson, again and again. All morning, servants came and went, emptying the library of the queen’s most precious books. Bad weather slammed the door shut on any hope of being allowed outside this