Winds of Fate [Books IV - VI]

Interlude: La Condesa de Sevilla (Part One)

The day he first left home, was the day Antonio also lost his first tiny tooth.

Upon waking up from an afternoon nap the day before, he saw the tooth on his pillow and cried out in pain, to which Mama rushed to the room and hushed him in her arms, careful not to let Papa hear. The Conde was not to learn of it until evening, and at that time, Mama and Señora Cariño already soothed him with a warm towel to bite on. By morning of the following day, he sat at the steps of the courtyard, admiring the wide-eyed marble fishes with their gaping mouths, and winces, both at the reminder of the pain in his own mouth and the realization that...

All this time their fountain water was fish vomit.

He laughed, imagining a world where fishes take revenge on fishermen by spitting water on them. 'This is my sea!' They would probably say, could they speak. 'Enough killing!'

So Antonio stood on his tiny boots, arms on his hips and raises a hand to the heroic fish in his tale. "Peace shall come to your waters soon, Señor Pescado!"

"Aha!"

Antonio jolted, eyes wide and concentrated on the fish. But it remained an unmoving marble scultpure.

Then his boots left the ground. "Aaaaah!"

"Mi caballero chiquitito!" Papa showered him with kisses, embracing him tight. They both chuckle. "And what are you doing? You are leaving within an hour and would not spare your dear Papa a kiss?"

Antonio laughed, grasping Papa's embroidered tunic. "I thought you were in your study, Papa!"

Papa smirked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. They looked nearly alike, despite what Antonio wanted to believe, from the jaw and high but thin nose, to the deep set, dark eyes. A perfect copy, except for the hair. Papa has straight black hair, like the loneliest midnight when Nana Mirena forgot to light the candles in his chamber. While he, he inherited Mama's dark brown waves, that curls over his ear and dangles about his tiny face.

"You could always knock, mi hijo. Papa doesn't like surprises, but he loves you and Mama... and will always have time for you." Papa said with a smile. Antonio beamed and nestled closer, and Papa connivingly whispers, "So! Are you ready?"

His tiny heart thudded hard. Antonio lowered his gaze to the brooch on Papa's neck. He quietly debated whether to remain firm, or to lie. In the end, he shook his head. "What if I don't like them?" he whispered. "What if Maestro is cruel?"

"We would not like people always." Papa smiled and sat down, setting Little Antonio beside him. He smoothed the brown curls, and Antonio wondered if Papa was thinking of Mama whenever he combs his hair. "And if your maestro is cruel, Paquito shall make sure that I hear of it."

"Oh, why must I go away?" He spoke up, heart bleeding at the thought of missing Mama's lullabies and Señora Cariño's cooking. Antonio trembled, sniffling the awaiting tears. "Can't you teach me how to duel here at home?"

"Tonio, I am... occupied." Papa winced, and looked away. "And it is one of our most sacred duties to the King to study well in the cavalry and earn our military rank and experience. Besides, Señor Mendoza would be able to impart you with much wisdom and lesson than I could ever aspire to teach."

"But you can do everything!"

The Conde chuckled. Antonio beamed. He always loved it when Papa laughed. He could not do so in front of guests and officials.

His laughter was reserved only for Antonio and Mama.

"No, Tonio," Papa said. "There are limits to one's powers."