30th of December 1534 - Royal Palace of Tordesillas

Clasping her hands in prayer, Eleanor of Austria stared up at the statue of the Virgin Mary as she considered the palace that was now her prison at her own brother's bidding. 

It had been easy enough to avoid the other occupant that was housed here, her mother kept to her rooms mostly and Eleanor was thankful that she had not seen her since she had arrived. 

There was little for her to do to fill her days trapped here, she had a few ladies that attended to her but they would not help her send any letters and Eleanor feared that she might never see outside of these walls again. 

Her mind drifted back to the day that she had been told that she would marry King Manuel by her brother, she had been looking out over the Palace gardens when he had approached her with the news. 

Eleanor recalled how angry she had been when Charles had told her the fate that he had decided for her, telling her that it was for the betterment of the Kingdom and because they were destined to perpetuate their lineage. 

It had been bad enough that he had betrayed Ferdinand and Catherine in his doings, Eleanor had never considered that he would do the same to her. 

She had argued against his plans, refused to go to Portugal before he had snapped that he ordered it as her King; there was something about him when he had spoken those words that had chilled her to her very bones. 

Telling Charles that she had hated him and he had no heart because of his decision to marry her off to the elderly Manuel seemed silly compared to what he had done to her since then and how she suffered now. 

The view from her chambers paled in comparison to the chambers that she had held as the Queen of Portugal and even her chambers when Queen of France had been beautiful. 

Eleanor had to wonder how her mother had managed the last thirty years of her life in this place, it was dull and despite being called a Palace by some it was nothing more than a convent. 

It was not a place fit for the royals that it now held and Eleanor wished she could do something to make it more fitting; afterall, her mother was a Queen in her own right while she had been a Queen Consort twice. 

A soft laugh startled Eleanor from her thoughts and her prayers, she whirled around to confront the source only to find her face to face with the very woman she had been avoiding.

"Hija, I had no idea that you had come so devoted," Joanna of Castile mused stepping further into the chapel where her daughter was taking refuge, her eyes glancing at the small entourage that had been allowed to serve Eleanor here. 

It was very much like her own, though she was sure that Eleanor's ladies had been chosen for their loyalty to Charles rather than their use in a place such as this. 

"Madre," Eleanor greeted softly, she offered a quick curtsy before righting herself and staring at the woman that had birthed her; she had never really earned the title of mother in her mind especially after her father had died. 

She had extraordinarily little memory of her father, she had been seven when he had passed but she did remember how devastated her mother had been when he had died. 

Her actions had left their mark on them all and Eleanor could not forgive her for abandoning her when she had needed her mother; she had only cared for her husband and not the children that had been left without both their parents when he died. 

As the eldest child, it had been Eleanor that had been forced to look out for her younger siblings when their mother had broken down after Philip's death and refused to allow his body to be buried. 

The mother and daughter stared at one another, the last time that they had seen each other was when Charles had travelled from Austria to claim his throne here in Spain. 

They had stopped at this very place seeking her blessing for Charles to take the throne after the death of King Ferdinand; the two having been sure what to make of their mother. 

"I hear that the French King was eager to be rid of you," Joanna mused, her hands clasped before her and her eyes seeming to search for something in Eleanor's face that made her want to shrink away from her but instead Eleanor glanced away from her.

Taking a moment to gather herself, Eleanor reminded herself that she was a Queen herself even if her titles had been taken from her; she had been coronated afterall. 

It was not her fault that Francis did not want her, she laid the blame for that firmly at Charles' feet and she knew that if her brother had treated the Frenchman and his sons better then perhaps her marriage would not have been as it was. 

"What would you know of it?" Eleanor hissed at her, she straightened her back refusing to cower before her own mother; a woman most called the Joanna the Mad. 

What would her mother know of all that she had suffered at her brother's hand, she was locked up here away from the world and Charles had ensured that like his father and grandfather before him, Joanna could not interfere in politics. 

"I know more than you think, even from my imprisonment in these very walls... I hear things," Joanna stated not at all phased by her tone, the outfit that she was wearing was not fit for a Queen more so a nun but that did not mean she was still not a Queen. 

Even in her confinement, Joanna was not as helpless as others liked to believe she was; she only pretended to be so that she was left alone in peace instead of heavily guarded. 

"I hear my sister, Catalina, now finds herself locked away as I have been. She always thought she knew better, thought that she was destined for greatness as our mother promised her," Joanna mused walking further into the chapel. 

A small smile playing on her face as she passed by Eleanor and approached the alter where the statue of the Virgin Mary was seated. 

Pausing for a moment, she allowed her words to linger while she remembered the child that her dear Catalina had been; she had been told since childhood that it was her destiny to be Queen of England and spread the greatness of the Trastámara line further. 

"Now they say that you are tainted with the madness," Joanna whispered, a part of her did feel responsible for the ill fate of her daughter but she acknowledge that there was little that could be done about it now. 

They whispered about an Aragonese madness that tainted their blood, something that Charles would have to stamp out if he did not wish to see his own legacy tainted by such dirty words.

"A shame really. I hear you were a good Queen," Joanna continued on, she had allowed Eleanor her space to grieve and unleash her anger knowing that her daughter would find some way to direct it all at her. 

Despite the years that she had spent locked away here, away from her children who pretended that for the most part that she did not exist; she knew them better than they knew themselves. 

Eleanor had been her first child and Joanna would not deny that she had let her down, she had devoted herself to her husband and that had come at a great cost. 

Any relationship with her children had suffered, she supposed that she should not have been too surprised when they drove a dagger into her back. 

Her son ruled in her stead, like her own father had done when her mother had died and he had declared her unfit to rule. 

"Though I suppose that matters little when your husband despises you," Joanna mused softly, it seemed like their lot in life as women to be puppets for the schemes of men. 

She had hoped for better lives for her daughters, though they had all been Queens in their own way, she had wanted them to be secure in their positions but she had never thought her life would work out this way. 

Her words causing Eleanor's face to darken and she glared at her mother, anger bubbling inside of her and she wished for nothing more to be left alone to her thoughts. 

There was something about being faced with her mother that darkened her mood, the reminder that she was no better than the woman that had been locked away for her own good. 

"If you had acted as a Queen should then you would not be in this place, my father died and your actions led you here," Eleanor spat with her voice raising, glaring at the back of her mother's head and she wished that she could storm from the chapel and avoid her further. 

How long had it been since Joanna had been locked away in this place, Eleanor recalled how quiet Catherine had been after spending years in this place before Charles had spent her to Portugal to replace Eleanor as Queen there. 

Was that to be her own fate? 

Locked away from all that she knew and loved, never to see her beloved daughter again and be called as mad as her mother was. 

"Perhaps. Perhaps we gained such things from my grandmother, Isabella of Portugal... they said she was mad," Joanna pointed out calmly, her voice never raising and she continued to stare at the Virgin Mary for a moment longer. 

It was peaceful here and she was thankful for that, no one had truly bothered her peace in such a long time preferring to forget about the Queen of Castile while her son ruled in her stead. 

"Charles sends his regards as well as news that Fredrick, Elector Palatine is to be wed," Joanna informed her, reaching into the sleeve of her gown, and producing the letter before holding it out for Eleanor to take. 

It was an act of cruelty on Charles' part and Joanna had no doubts that he sent this news to hurt Eleanor for disappointing him. 

A part of her disliked to see her children in such a position, though she knew that what was to come would be far worse for her children. 

Snatching the letter from her mother, Eleanor stared down at the parchment her heart breaking at the news that Fredrick was to be wed. 

Her face falling into a frown and tears building in her eyes as they skimmed along the letter from Charles, she flinched when Joanna rested a comforting hand on her shoulder and could only muster a glare at her mother's offer of comfort. 

Eleanor had never entertained the idea that now she was free from Francis perhaps she could be with the man that she had loved, however news of his impending marriage still struck her heart with a thousand knives. 

It felt like a lifetime ago that they had been exchanging love letters and promises, she had truly felt loved and had even imagined what her life would have been like if they had been allowed to marry. 

Even when she had been Queen of two different countries, she longed for the simpleness that she would have had with Fredrick. 

Perhaps they would have been blessed with a brood of children and she would have been allowed to raise them instead of having them ripped from her like she had suffered with Maria. 

When Charles had discovered her reading a love letter from Frederick, he had forced the pair to swear before an attorney that they had not secretly wed nor had made any such promises to do so before he had expelled Frederick from court. 

It was not long after that she had followed Charles to Spain and he had married her off to King Manuel of Portugal, she had borne her duty as well as she could and had done everything that he had expected of her. 

Scrunching up the letter in her hands, Eleanor turned on her heel and stormed out of the chapel not giving her mother another moment of her time. 

She did not pause as she stormed down the halls of her prison, ignoring the hurried footsteps of her ladies as they attempted to catch up with her. 

Her breathing heavy as she rushed towards the chamber that she had been given, her vision blurring with the tears that she refused to shed in the presence of those who might whisper to her brother on her actions. 

Reaching the chamber doors, she flung them open and quickly shut them behind herself resting her full weight against them for a moment before she allowed the first tear drops to fall. 

Her hand moved to cover her mouth as she tried to swallow any sounds that might give away her sorrow at the news that she had received. 

Of course, he did not dare write to her instead he sent word to their mother knowing that Joanna would be the one to break such horrible news to her. 

Frederick had been everything that Eleanor had ever wanted and she had no doubts that Charles had pushed him to marry, a Danish Princess was a bit of a reach for a councillor and general of the Emperor. 

It had been the same reason that Frederick was not considered a good match for her, he was not a worthy match for a Princess and Eleanor had been devastated when he had been banished from court. 

Squeezing her eyes closed for a moment, Eleanor tried to push away the tears that continued to fall knowing that such things should have been expected. 

Afterall, she knew that he would have married at some point like she, herself, had been married twice now and she should not have expected him to wait for something that was never going to happen. 

Reaching for the vase closest to her, Eleanor threw it across the room before she had even realised what she had done. 

"Damn him! Damn him to hell!" Eleanor screamed feeling anger and hatred for the brother that punished her for something that had been his own doing. 

Eleanor vowed that she would not forgive him for this and she cursed him for everything that she had suffered to secure his rule.