Lisbon, Portugal. 12th of September, 1532.
"Dinis?" the figure called out in a breathless voice, walking through the corridors. "Dinis, where are you?"
It was dark, the cold air of night swirling through the open windows and the figure continued walking, her white skirts moving with the air. To any onlookers, she might have appeared as if made of air, as if a ghost, since, save for the dark reddish-brown tone of her hair, she was completely devoid of colours.
Still, she was tall, and swollen after giving birth so recently. There were dark bags under her eyes, inky black as if painted on. She stumbled through the corridors, her hands reaching forward in an attempt to steady her. The labour sapped much of her strength, and the loss of the newborn infante only a few weeks later exhausted what was left of her mind.
The Queen Dona Leonor walked through the corridors in the direction of an empty nursery, her feet practically gliding over the floor. She felt like she was flying, a fiery angel looking for her baby.
There was a single cot in the dark and empty room, cold air swirling in and Leonor approached it. A smile grew on her face as she thought about her sweet baby, with his blonde hair like Afonso's and dark eyes like João's.
"Dinis?" she murmured gently, curling a hand over the cot to look inside. "Dinis, mamãe is here."
There was nothing in the cot. It was empty, completely empty. Leonor passed her palm over the lambswool, her heart racing and she turned around, desperate. Only a minute before, she had seen her son sleeping safely inside, happy and growing well. Now, where was he? Where was he?
"They took my baby!" she shrieked. "They took my baby!"
"Mamãe, I'm right here," a gentle voice said and Leonor turned in its direction. Warmth filled the room, light spilling in and a smile broke across her face.
It was a girl of around thirteen years. Red-haired, blue-eyed and lovely. She wore a gown of red and white, her white hood exposing the top of her head, grown exactly to the age she'd be if she had lived.
"Maria," Leonor breathed out. "Maria, you are well. You are alive!" She ran to her daughter, clutching her skirts to walk faster and Maria didn't move. She smiled simply when Leonor stood before her, accepting the gentle cupping of her soft cheek. "My sweet girl."
A boy stepped behind her, holding a white bundle in his arms. Leonor recognized him immediately, even years grown past the age she lost him. Miguel, holding little Dinis in his arms. Nine years old, happy and healthy. Leonor thought she had known happiness before, but this… this was something else.
She placed her other hand on Miguel's face and he looked up at her, they all did. Maria, Miguel, Dinis. Leonor shook her head, choked up with tears. "My babies," she whispered. "My babies, you are here. You came back to me."
"Mother?" someone called out and Leonor turned. She saw her children; Joana, Afonso, Manuela, Filipe and Margarida by the door, looking at her in confusion. Margarida was holding Filipe's hand, already walking and behind them all, stood João, her husband, looking at her as if he didn't know who she was at all. "Mother, what are you doing?"
"They have returned!" said Leonor excitedly. "Maria, Miguel and Dinis. The Lord returned them to us."
She turned back to look at them, to see their faces and assure her family that she was not mad, she couldn't be mad, but they were gone. They were gone and all she had was the taste of ashes and her own tears in her mouth.
"No," she murmured, desperate. "No, no, no. No!"
"No!" Leonor shouted, waking up. Her word echoed through her chambers and her ladies shifted, ready to assist her.
"What is it, Your Majesty?" one of them asked. It was too dark for Leonor to see which one. "Are you hurt? Are you in pain?"
"No," she murmured, shaking them off. "Leave me be, all of you."
They nodded and hastened to obey. Even though Leonor could still hear them debating what could have spooked her amongst themselves, they didn't bother her again.
She shivered as she laid back on her bed, pulling the covers over her bed. She was scared of going back to sleep, of the nightmares returning. Ever since Dinis, her sweet baby, had died, they didn’t leave her alone.