PREVIOUSLY.
[I could see the gleam of greed and ambition in the eyes of the representatives from the Southern and Central regions. Everyone in that room had visited, or at least heard the reports about, the FRFI.
They had seen with their own eyes the astonishing ease with which the beasts pulled the plows, breaking the heavy earth in a fraction of the time it took a crew of fifty men. The promise of substituting human strength with animal power in the sowing fields was the golden dream of any agricultural merchant.
I crossed my arms, feeling the physical exhaustion of my previous adventure melt away before the energy of the room. I had planted the seed of free enterprise—controlled, yet fierce. The Suaza Kingdom was about to awaken to its true productive capacity.]
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Year 13 of the SuaChie Calendar, Fourth Month (June, 1495).
Dawn City (Cuba), Caribá Region (FRFI).
Chuta's Personal Office, Stone Manor.
By the following day, the adrenaline of the trade summit had dissipated, leaving in its wake the familiar burden of administration. I found myself once again in my office.
The morning light streamed through the arched windows, illuminating the motes of dust dancing in the air and bathing the surface of my desk in a warm, golden hue.
Before me rested a bronze tray holding the remains of a breakfast much like the one Umza had brought me the day before. However, beside the empty cup of cacao lay two dark, silky, elongated feathers.
I lifted one of the feathers, rubbing it gently between my thumb and forefinger. An involuntary smile graced my lips. This time, it hadn't been Umza who interrupted my sanctuary, but Turey.
My mind drifted back a couple of hours, replaying my wife's visit.
She had entered with that silent grace that so characterized her, accompanied, of course, by Sombra. The massive, dark-plumaged owl had flown directly to the backrest of one of my guest chairs, pinning me under the gaze of his enormous amber eyes.
Rather than ignoring him, I had stood and offered a slight bow, greeting the creature with the same respect I would afford a foreign dignitary. That simple gesture had coaxed a radiant, almost childlike smile from Turey, and an oddly affable hoot of approval from the bird.
As I ate my breakfast, I had asked her, not without a touch of amusement, about Sombra's relentless harassment of poor Quemuen.
Turey, with an innocence that stood in stark contrast to her pet's talons, had assured me that the owl was "only playing" and that, furthermore, it had been an express request from Umza to uncover my little escapes from the city.
Yet, beyond the anecdote about Quemuen, what had truly lingered in my mind was the glimmer in Turey's eyes. There had been a silent nostalgia in her gaze, a faint dullness that I recognized instantly. Upon reflection, the answer struck me with obvious force: her melancholy stemmed from my recent departures.
I had been at the port of Guava City, and somehow, that had reminded her of home. I had met Turey there, beneath a different sky, under circumstances that now seemed to belong to another life.
Right then and there, standing before her, I had mentally reviewed my demanding schedule.
"In a few days, the bureaucracy can wait," I had told her.
I promised that we would travel to Guava City together, taking advantage of the fact that I had to travel to teach some classes in Tacaino City, the vibrant capital of the Federal Region of the Floating Islands.
The transformation in Turey had been magical. Her smile lit up the room, and the pure joy radiating from her was so palpable that Sombra, sensing his mistress's fervor, took off from the chair and began circling us, hooting happily as the gusts from his wings scattered the parchments across my desk—leaving behind those dark feathers as a memento.
The sound of knuckles rapping against the heavy wooden door pulled me from my reverie. I set the feather down on the desk just as one of the Manor's staff peeked his head inside.
"Leader Chuta," the young man announced with a respectful bow. "The Ambassador of England, Lord Edward de Vere, requests an audience."
"Send him in," I replied at once, instinctively adjusting my posture.
Seconds later, Edward crossed the threshold. The English nobleman wore European-cut clothing, but he had traded the heavy wools and velvets for discreetly dyed local cottons—a clear symbol of his adaptation. I stood and walked around the desk to receive him.
"Lord Edward. It is always a pleasure," I said, extending my hand.
"The pleasure is mine, Your Highness," he replied with an affable smile, shaking my hand firmly before we both took our seats in the chairs across from my desk.
I settled in, evaluating the man before me.
"Nine months, Edward. You have spent nearly a full cycle of the seasons with us in Dawn City," I began, adopting a casual tone, speaking more as a host than a ruler. "Tell me honestly, how has your stay on our side of the world been?"
Edward's eyes lit up with an honesty rarely seen among the diplomats of old Europe.
"It has been... extraordinarily pleasant, to be quite frank," he explained, relaxing his shoulders. "I feared finding myself in a hostile or incomprehensible land, but I have been welcomed with a warmth that far exceeds my expectations. However, I must confess that the greatest gift has been the climate. Waking up without the ice seeping into one's bones is a luxury I could grow accustomed to forever."
I smiled, noting the evident change in his appearance. His skin, once pale from the overcast skies of England, now boasted a faint, healthy tropical tan.
"I am glad to hear that," I said, leaning forward slightly. "And tell me, has the local cuisine been to your liking? I know our flavors can be... overwhelming at first."
Edward let out a short laugh and, with a somewhat sheepish gesture, smoothed his tunic over his stomach. It was undeniable; the ambassador looked slightly fuller than the slender, tense man who had disembarked nine months ago.
"Oh, may God forgive me, but I enjoy it entirely too much," he confessed, lowering his voice slightly as if sharing a guilty sin. "At my king's court, I am accustomed to banquets. Mountains of roasted meat, heavy game, but... very little variety. Here, the sheer number of culinary combinations, the fruits, the cacao, the maize, the spices... It is all so delicious that I find it impossible to refuse a second plate."
He paused and sighed, patting his slightly rounded belly.
"I am afraid I find myself a bit above my usual weight... In England, I was accustomed to riding several miles on horseback each day, participating in jousts to keep the blood warm, or spending the entire day on hunting expeditions. It is a rhythm of physical exertion that I have been unable to replicate in Dawn City."
I nodded in understanding. Diplomatic sedentarism was a universal ailment.
"It is good that you feel so comfortable with our gastronomy, Edward. It is an honor for us," I assured him, before offering a solution. "As for physical activity, you need not resign yourself. It is true that here in Dawn City we have only recently inaugurated a sports stadium that is not yet heavily frequented, but when you travel to Tacaino City, you will find far more options. The islands possess an enviable culture of physical fitness."
I paused briefly, measuring his mettle. Despite the slight weight gain, Edward remained a man of arms.
"Furthermore, should you miss the crossing of swords, you are formally invited to participate in the sparring matches at the Explorer Division Barracks," I offered, raising an eyebrow in friendly warning. "Though I must remind you that our fighting style in the arena is... rather more 'savage' and less formal than European jousts. There is no plate armor gleaming in the sun, only speed and heavy blows."
The Englishman's eyes widened in surprise before a broad smile of pure martial anticipation spread across his face.
"I shall do so without hesitation, Your Highness. My muscles are begging for a good challenge, no matter how savage it may be."
The atmosphere was warm, befitting two men who had learned to respect one another mutually. However, like the shifting of winds before a Caribbean storm, Edward's demeanor transformed. The friendly smile vanished, his back straightened infinitesimally, and the camaraderie was replaced by the icy efficiency of the Ambassador of the English Crown.
The man of arms was gone; the diplomat had just entered the room.
"I am glad that your health and spirits are well, Edward," I said, adapting instantly to his change in attitude. "But that look tells me you haven't come merely to discuss stadiums and food. What is the official reason for your visit?"
Edward nodded slowly, reaching inside his tunic to draw out a folded parchment sealed with the unmistakable red wax of England.
"Correspondence arrived on the last vessel, Your Highness. In one of the most recent letters from His Majesty, King Henry VII, I am instructed to be direct." Edward looked me in the eye, his tone now grave and professional. "The King urges me to expedite the marriage proposal between yourself and Princess Margaret. The courts of Europe are impatient, Your Highness, and my liege requires that this pact, which until now has been settled only in words, be consolidated officially and in writing."
I leaned back in my chair, interlacing my fingers in my lap, while Edward observed patiently, awaiting my response.
The weight of the world crashed down upon my shoulders... once again. This was not a trade decision regarding forges or ships; this was my own life.
I had agonized over this political marriage ad nauseam during my sleepless nights. Analyzing it coldly, there were no external barriers. The only limitation, the sole wall delaying the signing of that treaty, was myself.
My wives, acutely aware of the geopolitical magnitude of our times, seemed neither bothered nor threatened by the idea of me taking a European princess; they understood it to be a shield of blood against a potential invasion.
The prominent leaders of the Suaza Kingdom were not opposed either, viewing it as an unprecedented diplomatic victory. And even from the strictly Christian perspective that so obsessed the Europeans, my current marriages under our rites were recognized neither in Rome nor in London.
To the Church and to King Henry, my marriage to Margaret would be the 'first' and the only one in the eyes of their God.
It was the perfect legal loophole. Yet, my logical mind clashed violently against the morals I still carried over from my past life—a conscience that remained very much alive within me.
To play at diplomatic polygamy, to take a young foreign girl as a wife for reasons of State... it meant crossing an intimate line from which I was unsure I could ever return. I was still hesitating. I kept turning the chessboard over in my mind, not knowing how this match would end, nor how much of my own soul I was willing to sacrifice upon the altar of the Suaza Kingdom.
I maintained my silence a moment longer, holding Edward's firm and expectant gaze, while the invisible clock of history kept ticking in my head.
…
The ticking in my head finally stopped. I sighed, letting the air escape my lungs slowly, and shattered the dense silence that had settled over the office.
"I am in agreement with the marriage, Edward."
The words fell upon the desk like pieces of solid gold.
Instantly, the tension in the ambassador's shoulders vanished. A broad smile, almost of genuine relief, illuminated his slightly tanned face. It was the expression of a man who had just secured his position in the history of two continents.
"That is magnificent news, Your Highness," he replied, hastening to bow his head. "I assure you that King Henry will be..."
I raised a hand, cutting off his flow of diplomatic gratitude. My expression remained stern.
"However, there is one non-negotiable condition," I said, resting my forearms on the carved wood. "To this day, all of my relationships, matrimonial or otherwise, have been forged under mutual agreement. I force no one to share my bed or my life... To be clear, I am referring to Margaret's will. Not that of her kingdom, nor her father's. If we are to marry, she must accept it of her own accord, and in due time."
Edward froze, turning to stone. He blinked, processing my words as if I had spoken to him in an alien tongue. To a European noble of this century—or what remained of it—princesses were bargaining chips, a strategic resource more valuable than silk or gunpowder, yet utterly devoid of their own voice.
The idea that a marriage should hinge upon the consent of a young girl who was scarcely out of childhood was, in his world, an almost absurd eccentricity.
I watched the gears of his mind turning, desperately searching for the right words, weighing his options so as not to offend me or jeopardize the fragile pact. He moistened his lips. After a few seconds of tense silence, his eyes lit up with an idea.
"Your Highness..." he began, his tone cautious but suddenly laced with excitement. "I understand your noble perspective. What would you say, then, to the princess traveling to Dawn City as your official betrothed? You could spend time together, beneath the same sky, so that the will and emotions you seek... may grow over time. Naturally."
The proposal caught me off guard. I blinked, reevaluating the ambassador. It was an incredibly pragmatic solution, and oddly enough, it felt like the most correct one. It would allow Margaret to know this world, my customs, and it would afford me the opportunity to treat her like a human being, rather than a trophy.
"Do you believe your king will agree to such a thing?" I asked skeptically. "Besides, is she not too young to cross the ocean and live on the other side of the world?"
"There will be no issue with her taking residence here, I assure you." Edward gestured with his hands, regaining his confidence. "This kingdom is a paradise. She could enjoy this warm climate, its vibrant culture, as much as or even more than I do. And as for His Majesty's decision... I guarantee you there is very little chance he will reject this idea, especially if it means securing the alliance."
I nodded slowly, persuaded by his logic. However, a new practical problem surfaced in my mind. Margaret would not come alone; she would bring courtesans, guards, and servants. And I, most definitively, would not allow her to live under my own roof, being so young and under these circumstances.
I thought of the available properties, and an image came to me at once.
"Very well. I have the perfect place for her," I announced. "Last year, I began constructing a manor for my parents—a spacious and well-situated property here in the city. However, due to the care my little sister requires, they have decided not to occupy it for the time being. It is completely new. I shall offer it to the princess and the retinue that accompanies her."
The surprise on Edward's face was absolute, followed by a sigh of relief he did not even try to conceal. It was evident that he had been racking his own brain just seconds ago, imagining how on earth he was going to house and maintain a princess of the House of Tudor in his modest embassy.
"In the name of the Kingdom of England and the Tudor family, I thank you profoundly for your boundless hospitality, Your Highness," Edward said, rising to perform a formal bow. "This gesture shall strengthen our brotherhood."
I did not stand. I looked at him from my chair and tapped the wood again with my index finger, marking the rhythm of my words.
"Let me be clear, Edward. I have no issue receiving her and providing her with all the comforts of our kingdom. But whether this betrothal ultimately culminates in a marriage will depend purely and absolutely upon Margaret once she comes of age. If she says 'no,' it shall be a 'no.' And, of course, this will not sever the relations between our kingdoms either."
"I understand perfectly, Your Highness. Your terms shall be respected," he replied, taking his seat once more.
But his gaze betrayed him. There was an absolute certainty in his eyes that Margaret would never reject me. And it wasn't out of my own arrogance; I read it in the way Edward looked at me.
In his eyes, I was one of the strongest, most capable, wise, and understanding leaders to ever walk the earth. Any one of those virtues was enough to dazzle the European nobility; possessing them all made me a match impossible to refuse.
Knowing that the matter of the marriage was settled for now, I felt the moment was right. I had Edward in my territory, relaxed by his diplomatic victory, and my structural reforms were already underway. It was time to move the next piece on the board of the Great Quyca.
I stood up, walked over to a long mahogany cabinet at the far end of the office, and retrieved a heavy leather cylinder. I returned to the desk, pushed my breakfast tray aside—taking care not to crush Turey's feathers—and unrolled an immense map across the surface.
It was the most complete cartography of the continent we had to date. Every mountain range, every river, every discovered coast.
"Tell me, Edward," I began, smoothing the edges of the map with the palms of my hands, "does England plan to undertake private expeditions anytime soon?"
The ambassador furrowed his brow, leaning toward the parchment in genuine confusion.
"Do you refer, Your Highness, to the joint commercial expeditions toward the Far East via the Suaza Isthmus? I thought our terms regarding Nicaragua were..."
"No," I interrupted him, looking up to lock my eyes onto his. "I am referring to expeditions of your own... In the Ocean of Dawn."
The effect was immediate.
Edward froze. The blood drained from his sun-weathered face, leaving him a sickly ashen hue. I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down. A fine sheen of sweat broke out almost instantly upon his forehead. He tried to control his breathing, but the sheer panic of being discovered was entirely too obvious.
"I... we..." he stammered, gripping the armrests of his chair with such force that his knuckles turned white. "We have no such thing planned, Your Highness. I... I do not understand why you ask. Has someone... said something?"
I couldn't help but smile. An understanding smile, devoid of malice, yet laden with absolute power. He was terrified, convinced there was a leak within his court, that my spies had breached the walls of King Henry.
"Peace, Edward," I said in a soft voice. "No one has told me anything. It was merely a tactical assumption on my part... But your reaction has just brilliantly confirmed it for me."
The ambassador's expression crumbled, morphing into a bitter, defeated grimace. He opened his mouth, surely to weave a desperate web of excuses and explanations regarding European navigation rights, but I raised my hand to halt him.
"I understand," I assured him, my tone now stripped of all lightness, adopting the full weight of a ruler. "I know this is not something you decide. As a leader who has expanded his own borders, I perfectly understand the ambitions of England and King Henry. The desire to cross the sea and claim lands is no crime."
Edward stared at me with a mixture of dread and astonishment, not daring to interrupt.
"But," I continued, resting my hands upon the map, right over the vast territory that made up the continent, "as an inhabitant and protector of the Great Quyca, I will not allow massive harm to be committed against the native peoples who inhabit it. I will not tolerate massacres, slavery, nor the unbridled plunder that characterizes Europe's expansions."
I let the silence fall for a moment, ensuring that every single one of my words was seared into his mind. The look in Edward's eyes shifted from fear to a profound complexity, tinged with an almost reverential respect. He knew that I possessed the naval and terrestrial power to sink any fleet England might send.
"However, I am no tyrant who denies progress, Edward. If England wishes to expand into territories that do not belong to the Suaza Kingdom or our allies, I will not stop them. Furthermore," I smiled faintly, delivering the final blow, "the Suaza Kingdom itself will aid you in your expeditions and settlements. We will be your guides and your partners. But it will be done under my rules and with our restrictions. Is that clear?"
.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
Thank you all for your support. Let's get straight to the chapter comments.
CHAPTER COMMENTS
First, I want to say that Margaret will live in the kingdom. Although I'm not sure if I should have her come soon. Nor am I sure if she should spend her entire childhood here.
I even considered that she could live here for a certain period and then return to England before her marriage to Chuta, but that would bring obvious political plots that I might not want to include in the novel.
At the same time, I thought about linking these periods of Margaret's life to the clear problems with the Christian religion that will arise in the future.
Second, regarding the guided 'colonization' of the kingdom, it was obvious to me.
Neither Chuta nor the kingdom are prepared to govern such a large territory. And the truth is, there's no way a single government, under any political system in history, can maintain such a vast government.
Unfortunately, we are mortal, and at the same time, we have other clear flaws, like the deadly sins.
As for how the colonization will be, well, we'll see that in the chapters.
No spoilers
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS
First, I forgot to prepare the images for the missing maps, but I want to let you know that I already have 5 chapters scheduled on the platform, so the maps will be delivered with the following ones.
I've been on a good run of writing chapters, and I've put a lot of love into them.
That's all, peace.
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Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future (Chapter 91) (ON HOLD)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 34) (ON HOLD)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 14) (ON HOLD)
You can find them on my profile.]