Page 78 of The Truth About Myths
Dio lifted his brows. "Well, it seems our stay in Comillas has ended."
"The hell it has." The rooster would not take Isabel from here. Henrique was her escort. The king had entrusted him with his sister. He would not allow Canastra and Alfonso to steal the princess from under their noses.
Henrique stalked out of the stables.
Canastra's minions patrolled the house. A contingent of armed men had swelled their numbers. Henrique recognized the blue and gold uniform of the Guardia Civil. The hairs on the back of his arm stood on end. Canastra and Alfonso had gained the Guardia's support. What would Pedro Daun think of this?
Warming his heels, Dio panted. "Did they come for the ball?"
Henrique didn't know and believed the answer wouldn't please them. "Let's find Canastra."
When they arrived at the palace's entrance, the two guards eyed them disdainfully.
Outside Canastra's study, light spilled from the closed door. Henrique was about to twist the knob when voices from inside made him pause.
Asking Dio to be quiet, Henrique listened.
"You will face them in battle. You will conquer them with your courage. You will keep them withmycunning." Canastra's speech resounded with cheap rhetoric and political extremism, leaving a sour taste in Henrique's mouth.
"It's too soon for Madrid." Alfonso sounded shrill and out of breath. "Without the army's support, Aosta will repel us as he did with the Carlist forces.”
"It is natural to be afraid. Battle is foreign to you—"
"I'm ready to die for Spain." Silence. "But I won't risk my bride."
Henrique gritted his teeth at the possessive note in Alfonso's statement. The clock struck the hour. Their conversation became hushed. Henrique shut his eyes, trying to hear.
"No cost is too high. We have come this far—"
"I've followed your advice since Sandhurst, and your support proved invaluable. But Isabel returns to Lisbon. After we conquer Madrid and I regain my throne, I will ask for her hand officially."
"No!" Canastra screeched. "I could have chosen any royal princess for you…"
Henrique locked his jaw. Canastra’s blackmail finally made sense. He’d planned the betrothal from the start.
"But unlike the other European princesses, Isabel is more than a well-connected bride." Canastra's voice assumed the low, measured cadence of a preacher. "She is her brother's presumptive heir—"
"You go too far. Isabel's brother is young, recently married, and can no doubt sire many children before Isabel has to inherit," Alfonso said.
"What about the curse? No Braganza's heir will ascend to the throne unless they find the friar's grave. I assure you, they won't."
Alfonso scoffed. "I cannot believe it. You will resuscitate some moth-ridden myth?"
"I'm quite competent at resuscitation," Canastra said, and Henrique could see the sneer in his voice. "Why, if it wasn't for my powers, you would still be exiled."
"If my mother had not made you a duke, you would have no power."
"Perhaps Your Highness would like to try his luck with the old aristocracy then? Oh, wait, they are too busy fawning over the man who usurped your throne.”
Silence.
Dio frowned. "What are they saying?"
"I think Alfonso is sulking," Henrique whispered. And so he should if he had to rely on such vipers as Canastra.
"If my strategy is unacceptable to Your Highness, we’ll retreat. Wait for the army to support us. Perhaps one year or two. You hoped to return to Palacio Real, but Madrid will stay there. You can always go back to exile—"
"No!" A pause, heavy breathing. "No. What is your plan?"
