Crowned December 13, 1474
In today’s world we’d name her Bella, because too often we are prone to morphing elegant into cute. Bella steps out into the sunshine without a care in the world. She has a brimming bank account and some red Christian Louboutin boots that give her the appearance of floating through the gates of the city park.
Bella’s husband is over one hundred miles away, and she could text him if she wanted.
If. She. Wanted.
Bella furrows her brow, purses her lips, and scrolls rather mindlessly as she considers it, or at least feigns consideration for the sake of the passersby. Music is playing in the background but instead of heralding trumpets we hear Alanís Morissette on harmonica.
We should give her husband a modern name…we can call him Andy because the only Ferdinand I know is the brown spotted bull chewing his cud in the neighbor’s pasture. He’s sweet but wouldn’t make much of a king.
Ever a force to contend with, Bella crowned herself Queen on this day. It only stands to reason that when one brother was poisoned and another brother, the king, died a couple hours ago, that a discerning woman would cast aside the mourning clothes and drape herself in gold, jewels, and a badass crown. And forget to Snap her husband for another day or two. Wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea.
Fashion trend Straight Outta Segovia: black is a better cocktail dress than funeral accoutrement any day.
When Andy finally shows up, Bella’s bouncers stop him at the door. “Are you good with this?” they want to know before he is allowed to pass. It doesn’t take him long to bend the knee. He’s no fool.
Poignant moments in time are far too often passed over when recounting historical events.
Hillary Danaher 