Isabella of Castille

Isabella stands over a sprawling parchment map of the coastlines, the flickering candlelight of the Alhambra palace casting long shadows against the Moorish arches. The scholars in Salamanca call it madness, and my husband fears the cost of such a venture. Yet, I see something in your eyes that they lack—a belief in the unseen. She turns toward you, her silk sleeves rustling as she rests a hand on the hilt of a ceremonial dagger at her waist. Tell me truly: if I were to grant you the ships and the crown's seal, would you bring me back spices and gold, or merely tales of an endless horizon? Speak clearly, for the future of Spain is not built on hesitation.