“Oh, no, not at all, Your Highness!” Isabel answered anxiously. “You needn't ask the duchess to do that. She has not required me to give you extra lessons. I told her to add the extra lessons so we could finish what I had planned. And I don’t feel overworked at all. I think you have the wrong impression of the situation, infante Fernando. But thank you for your concern and attention,” Isabel said, curtsying gratefully.

“Isabel,” Fernando answered with inspiration. “It would be a great honor for me if I could somehow do you some favor. After all, I am so …” Fernando suddenly stammered and could not continue his thought.

“May I ask you something, infante Fernando?” Isabel asked, wanting to lead the conversation out of its impasse.

“I'm all ears, Isabel,” Fernando replied with a sigh of relief.

“One of your cousins told me you are multitalented and even write poetry. Is this true?”

“It must have been my cousin, Philippa, who told you that,” Fernando answered. “She always blurts out all my secrets.”

Suddenly, it occurred to Fernando that Isabel might be trying to find out who the author was of the poems she often found on her door. “Now, at last, the moment had come for me to reveal myself to Isabel,” Fernando thought. “And if I finally do it, I will be the happiest creature in the world if Isabel accepts my love.”

“Isabel!” Fernando began, preparing to voice out those speeches he had repeatedly rehearsed in front of the mirror. But, instead, he began to talk about something else. “Philippa is so imaginative. I told her I tried to write poetry. But it didn't work out. That was a long time ago.”

“Оh! So it’s not you,” Isabel exclaimed with a surprised and confused expression. “It's not you.” Just as Fernando had done the last time, Isabel stuttered before she could finish what she wanted to say.

“Not me what?” Fernando asked.

“Oh, no, no! That was just me. I was thinking about something and was speaking out loud. Forgive me, infante Fernando.”

After saying goodbye, Fernando scolded himself for his indecision and went to his room. “Where had my courage gone?” he reasoned. “I had always been confident until now. I had always won the training sword fights, not because of my skill but because I had a strong spirit. Not even my older brother nor my cousins have this. Why am I now a wimpy little coward?”

Fernando entered his room and looked at himself in the mirror with contempt. “Slug! Slob! Slob!” he shouted angrily, pointing at his reflection. “You are not worthy of a goddess like Isabel! And you are no hero or knight as you always imagined yourself to be! You're a wretched coward! That is what you are!” Fernando covered his face with shame and threw himself into bed, sobbing.

During the night, Fernando could not sleep a wink, feeling emotionally uncomfortable and experiencing mental pain and unbearable anguish. In the morning, he got out of bed, all broken up. He went to his desk and, with a distracted look, ran through the schedule of classes for the day:

French speech

Cartography

Latin speech

Star science

Knightly lessons: sword and lance techniques on a moving target

Dance techniques

He went to the mirror and stared at his reflection – a pale, frowning face with puffy eyelids and red eyes. “I have to pull myself together,” Fernando thought. “It’s a hard day, but I'm not used to giving up. I have to endure and not show anyone my weakness.”

The classes took Fernando's mind off the painful thoughts. But during the second to last lesson, Fernando felt a great physical weakness and slight dizziness. However, he decided to ignore it. Putting on his knight's armor, he got on his favorite horse, took a wooden spear, and galloped toward the moving target. Ten paces from the target, Fernando felt very dizzy. His eyes grew dim, the spear fell out of his hands, and he collapsed to the ground.