"The Queen's Counsel"

That night, Ferdinand found Isabella in her private garden, tending to the night-blooming jasmine that reminded her of her homeland in Spain. The garden was one of the few places in the palace where conversations couldn't be overheard by his father's extensive spy network—Isabella had seen to that with careful magical wards and strategic landscaping.

"You've made your decision," she said without looking up from her flowers.

"Was it that obvious?"

"You have the same expression your mother used to get when she'd decided to stand up to your father, regardless of the consequences." Isabella's voice was soft with old grief and fresh worry. "That stubborn tilt of the chin, like you're preparing to face a firing squad with dignity intact."

Ferdinand had only vague memories of his biological mother, who had died when he was seven. But Isabella had been sharing stories about Queen Catherine's quiet rebellions for years, painting a picture of a woman