Free The Mapmaker's Daughter by Laurel Corona Page B

Diogo says, gesturing to the looking glass he is mounting. “He’s sent for a more powerful one for the harbor. He said that since there’s not much to do out here, perhaps your father could be a sentry.”
    My father could never handle the tower steps, and I am stunned that the prince would suggest it. It’s disrespectful, as if he doesn’t understand my father’s gifts and assumes any task would be suitable. I say nothing, determined that if my father is assigned this new duty, I will handle it myself, and no one at the palace will ever have to know.
    Diogo looks through the glass, pointing it here and there. “Would you like to look?” he asks.
    I squint into the eyepiece. Though the horizon is empty, whitecaps are visible far into the ocean, and if a boat were to sail into view, I would see the color of the sailors’ caps before I could see the ship at all with my unaided eye. I turn to say something and am startled that his face is close to mine. “It’s quite good, isn’t it?” he says, backing away. “At sea, it’s how we sight land.”
    “If the Moors come, we will have plenty of time to prepare for them,” I say, trying to sound calm after having been so close to him.
    He smiles. “We’ll send you to that beach to lead the battle.”
    Embarrassed, I murmur something about Papa needing me and head down the stairs, taking pains not to tumble to the bottom in a heap.
    ***
    I spend hours watching the horizon through Diogo’s spyglass, wanting to be the first to spot a Moorish invasion. I spend as much time looking down the road toward Raposeira, to see if Diogo might be coming to check on his spyglass.
    It’s been more than a month since he was last here. At Raposeira, the talk is of Henry’s imminent departure for Lisbon, to lead an army massing for the assault on Tangiers. The idea of a lookout seems to have been forgotten, but nonetheless, I come up here every morning and again before sunset in hopes of sighting the Moors on the horizon.
    Diogo will be captain of one of the expedition’s ships. No one knows how long they will be gone, but it’s the beginning of August now, and since Tangiers is only a few days’ journey by sea, everyone hopes for a triumphant return by the end of September.
    I spend much of my time practicing being grown-up, hoping that my body will go along, and that by the time Diogo returns, I will have budded into a young woman. We have one silver tray in the cottage, and I take it into my room to look at my reflection. I turn my head from side to side to see how I might look if I were Diogo’s true love, awaiting his victorious return.
    I put down the tray. “Stop it,” I whisper.
    Susana has a husband, a little boy, and another child on the way. Luisa is only eight, but from Susana’s letters, it sounds as if she has settled on becoming a nun. I won’t be able to leave my father as long as he lives, since someone must take care of him.
    My cheeks flush with anger at the unfairness of being the only one who won’t get to choose, but I don’t want to leave Papa anyway. I love him. He’s my responsibility. I wanted him all to myself, and that is exactly what I got. I return the silver tray to the cupboard, vowing not to take it out again.
    VALENCIA 1492
    I remember the reflection I pored over that summer at Sagres. At the gawky age of eleven, I could not see much to be positive about, and I had to admit defeat about blooming overnight. The loose hair constantly around my face made me look unkempt, and my eyes were a mix of colors adding up to an unremarkable shade of brown. In the distortions of the silver tray, my mouth seemed too small and my nose comically large.
    I was alone at the end of the world, except for Martim and Tareyja, who were too old and too busy to play, and Papa, who was too idle to be happy company and looking older by the month. The palace at Raposeira might just as well have been boarded up after Prince Henry left for Tangiers. I settled into