And now... they were waiting.
Someone was coming into the room; he did not turn from the window.
‘Ferdinand,’ said a voice, soft and very loving.
Then he turned and saw Isabella. She had waved all his servants out of the room and they were alone.
He looked at her sullenly for a few seconds, and her heart beat faster with her love for him, because he looked at that moment like a spoilt child, like their own little Isabella.
‘Why, Ferdinand,’ she said, ‘we should not be bad friends.’
He could not meet her eye. ‘It seems to be your wish,’ he mumbled.
She came to him and took his hand. ‘No, it is far from my wish. I was so happy, and now I am no longer so.’
She knelt at his feet and was looking up at him.
For a few seconds he believed she had come to beg his pardon, to offer him all he asked, if he would stay with her. Then he realised that until this moment he had not known Isabella. He had known a gentle woman, a woman who longed to please him, who loved with mingling tenderness and passion; and because he had been too much aware of Ferdinand to be aware of Isabella, he had thought he understood her.
She took his hand and kissed it. ‘Ferdinand,’ she said, ‘why should there be this trouble between us? We are quarrelling over power as children quarrel over sweetmeats. One day you will be King of Aragon, and it may be that you will sometimes ask me to help you with some problem in the governing of your country. I know I shall do the same as regards mine. Why, if you had your will in this matter and the Salic law was introduced into Castile, our little Isabella would no longer be heir to Castile and Leon. Think of that, Ferdinand. Come, my husband, do not, I beg you, I implore you, carry out your threat to leave me. For I need you. How can I rule these kingdoms without you? I shall need you a hundred times a day in our life together. Ferdinand, it is I, Isabella, who ask you... stay.’
He looked at her then. There were tears shining in her eyes, and she knelt to him; but even as she knelt she remained Queen of Castile.
She was offering him a way out of his predicament. How could he return to Aragon except ignobly? She was saying: ‘How can I live happily without you, Ferdinand, I who need you so?’
He said: ‘Perhaps I have been hasty. It is not easy for a man...’
‘No, it is not easy,’ she said eagerly, and she thought of him, Ferdinand, the beloved of his mother and father – and of herself. It was not easy for him to be merely the Queen’s consort when he believed he should be King. ‘But you are King of Sicily now and one day, Ferdinand, you will be King of Aragon. And Aragon and Castile will be as one. Ferdinand, we must not allow the great happiness we have brought to each other to be spoilt. Think of the great happiness we shall bring to Castile and Aragon.’
‘I believe you are right,’ he said.
Then she smiled, and her smile was radiant.
‘And since you say that you need me so much...’
‘Ferdinand, I do, I do!’ she cried.
Then she was on her feet and in his arms; and they clung together for a few moments.
She released herself and said: ‘You see, Ferdinand, we are so young and there is so much to do, and our lives lie before us...’
‘It is true, Isabella,’ he said, and touched her cheek, looking at her as though he saw her afresh and that he had discovered something hitherto unknown to him.
‘I want everyone to know that all is well,’ she said, ‘that everyone can be as happy as we are.’
She drew him to the window and the people below saw them standing there.
Isabella put her hand in that of Ferdinand. He raised it to his lips and kissed it.
There was immediate understanding.
‘Castile!’ cried the people. ‘Castile for Isabella... and Ferdinand!’
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