“Oh, Isabella,” said Afonso.
His voice had pathos in it.
“You don't have to worry about your safety. You have nothing to fear. I am perfectly capable of handling a weapon. Please, uncle, let me take with me not an instructional sword but a real one so I can protect the infanta from ill-wishers.”
“Of course, Afonso,” Pedro answered assuringly. “It is always prudent to take the best weapons on long journeys. You can choose any weapon from the king's arsenal.
“And, for you, my Isabella,” Pedro continued, “I will also be reassured. I will remember that next to you is the son of a hero of Portugal, my brother, King Edward I, who showed himself as an incomparable navigator and an unsurpassed hero in the African wars. Afonso’s son is his blood, so he sees what is destined to happen to him even in his dreams.”
The duchess joined the conversation. “Your cousin, my dear Isabella, is as noble and brave as his father. We would not send you if we were not sure that you would be in safe hands.”
“Thank you, uncle and aunt, for your kind, faithful words about my father and me,” said Afonso proudly, with a twinkle in his eye.
After breakfast, Fernando, overjoyed to hear of Afonso's departure from the palace, went to his room in high spirits. He loved and respected his brother and had always trusted him, but deep down, he still feared that Afonso might become his potential love rival.
“Now, no one can stop me from winning Isabel's heart,” he thought as he walked to the table after he entered his room.
He carefully took the poems he had written the night before and reread them, kissing the place where the name “Isabel”’ was written. He took a quill and wrote on the back, “From your admirer.” Then he carefully rolled up the parchment with the verses, tied it with a scarlet string, and lightly applied floral oil to the edges of the parchment. He then headed to the part of the palace where Isabel's room was.
As he walked down the corridor that led to her room, Fernando slowed his pace. His heart was pounding. When he was sure the corridor was empty, he walked to Isabel’s door, tied the parchment to the doorknob, knocked on the door, and ran back down the corridor. He hid behind a column and listened. Soon, he heard the door open. Now Fernando could not only hear his heart beating, but he could feel an intense throbbing in his temples. Fernando heard the sound of the door closing, and he breathed a sigh of relief, satisfied with the thought that everything had gone as planned.
“Will she understand that the poems are from me?” Fernando thought as he went back to his room. “She couldn't help feeling that I was madly in love with her, although I tried not to show it outwardly,” he reasoned. “And how would she feel about that if she understood that?”
He entered his room, approached the mirror, imagined her in front of him, and said, “Isabel, may I reveal my feelings for you? When I saw you for the first time, my heart immediately told me that destiny had sent you to me. I fell in love with you at first sight. I dream of you day and night.
“So let me offer you my hand and heart,” he continued. “Let me become your suitor. If you are unsure of your feelings, I beg you not to refuse my request. Let me prove how strong my love is. I am sure you will experience the same feelings for me as I have for you in time.”
