AN: Dear readers, thank you so very much for the reviews. They truly help the Muse put in some extra hours. Hope you'll enjoy the following chapters, as well.

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Diego first put foot on Spanish soil on the morning of September 3rd, 1807, about four months after his departure from California. Taking his farewell from his travel companions, and promising Sabino to stay in touch, he checked himself in at an inn. He was eager to get to Madrid so that he'd finally meet his grandfather, uncles, and aunt, but couldn't quite help himself from falling in love with Cadiz, for which reason he decided to spend a few days there.

After making the arrangements for the voyage to the capital, he wrote a letter to his relatives to inform them that he had arrived safely, and was due to arrive in Madrid with the coach scheduled for September 20th.

Three days later, after taking some time to marvel at the architecture and lifestyle of the port town, have two new suits made to match the latest Spanish fashion, and spending hours on various terraces sketching the plazas and the most beautiful of the buildings and statues decorating the port, he sent three letters to California. The first he sent to his father, informing him that he had arrived in Cadiz; the second to Felipe, as promised; and the third to the Escalantes, in each of them including some of the sketches he had made. About an hour later, he took one last good look at the central plaza of Cadiz, and started his journey to Madrid.

The stagecoach covered the distance in a fortnight, traveling only by day so that the horses could be rested or, at several points, changed.

When, at last, Diego arrived at the Spanish capital, tired and famished after the last long day spent in the coach, he was disappointed to find that neither his grandfather nor his uncles had come to greet him. In fact, there was no one there to meet him. Puzzled, he told himself the coach had probably arrived there earlier than previously expected and found a carriage. Taking out of his luggage the paper on which he had written his grandfather's address, he gave it to the driver, and the man stirred the horses that way. It took some thirty minutes to arrive and Diego enjoyed every one of them as he admired, fascinated, the imposing housed and labyrinth of large boulevards and small alleys making up the Spanish capital.

When the driver woke him up from his reverie to inform him that they had arrived, he asked the man to wait and knocked on the front door.

A chubby, middle-aged woman answered. "Si, Señor?" She asked after staring at him for a few moments.

"I am Diego de la Vega. Would you please let my grandfather, Don Emmanuel, know that I've arrived?" He politely inquired.

The woman paused for a few moments before replying. "I'm sorry, Señor, but we have clear orders not to receive you. The Count doesn't want to either see or meet with you and asks for you to never look for him or the other members of this household again." She informed him.

"My grandfather doesn't want to meet me?" He asked in disbelief. "No. There must be a mistake. Could you please tell him ̶ "

"There is no mistake, Señor! I am sorry, but I am not allowed to talk to you! Adios!" She interrupted, then closed the door in his face.

Diego remained frozen for a few moments, unable to believe what had just happened, then returned to his coach.

"Where to, Señor?" The driver inquired.

The young man took a few moments to think, then directed him towards el barrio La Latina, to the home of his former tutor, Señor Mateo.

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"Who was that, Honoria?" A man asked as the servant closed the door and returned to the living room where her young master was reading a paper.

"Just a beggar, Señor." She replied.

"Did you give him fifty centavos, as my father asked you to?" He inquired.

"Si, Señor."

"Very good, Honoria. If he comes back, make sure to also give him some food and a glass of water. It's still terribly hot outside these days." The man instructed and continued reading his paper.

ZZZ

"Diego!" Señor Mateo exclaimed as his former student descended from the coach, then hurriedly gave him a hug. "You're here earlier than I thought you'd be!"

"Indeed. But just in time to visit Madrid before my classes start." He replied. "However, before we talk further, would you mind letting me stay here for a few days until I find myself a room to rent?"

"Of course, my boy! You are always welcome here, and you can stay as long as you want." The man replied. "But I had thought your grandfather would insist for you to stay at his villa."

"That's precisely what I also thought, but, alas, I seem to have been wrong." The younger man answered, saddened.

"Well… You'll tell me all about it over lunch. But, first, we should help this poor man with your luggage." Señor Mateo smiled, indicating the trunks secured behind the coach.

After the three of them brought everything to the small house's only guestroom, Diego paid the driver generously and the man left with a big smile on his lips.

"Now, before anything else, may I introduce my wife, Alma?" Diego's tutor asked as a beautiful woman of about thirty years of age came from the kitchen to greet their guests. "My dear, this is Diego de la Vega, whom I am sure to have mentioned to you… once or twice."

"Try a hundred times!" She corrected that statement with a smile, as she extended her hand to the caballero, who bowed to kiss it, a puzzled expression on his face. "I'm very glad to meet you, Don Diego! I hope you will be here for long enough to tell me if the stories my husband recounted about his time in California are true."

"He will, indeed. Diego will be staying here until his classes are due to start." Mateo informed her.

"I hope I am not imposing on you," Diego uttered.

"Of course not! You are welcome for as long as you want to stay. I am just sorry we'll have to leave you alone soon." She replied before excusing herself to go inform the housekeeper that she needed to set another plate at the table.

"I didn't know you were married." The caballero told his tutor as soon as she disappeared to the dining room.

"It's recent. We met four months ago and married just last week. What can I say? When you know, you know! In fact, we are due to leave on our honeymoon just a couple of days, but you are welcome to think of this house as yours for as long as you need to stay here." He answered.

"I appreciate that, Señor Mateo." Diego smiled at seeing the happiness in his former tutor's eyes.

"Just Mateo! You're not my student anymore, Diego, but you are my friend, as I hope I am yours, as well. Now, what is this about you not staying with your family?"

"As it turns out, my grandfather has forbidden the household to receive me, which, as you can imagine, is rather disconcerting, considering how much I was looking forward to meeting them all," Diego answered sadly.

"I can't believe that! I only met your grandfather once, when he interviewed me before I came to California, but he never struck me as someone who would refuse to meet his only grandson. On the contrary! He wanted nothing better. It really doesn't sound like him."

"And, yet, it's true, my friend. Besides, you met him some 12 or 13 years ago. Things change in such a long time." Diego replied. "I can only hope they might change again while I am here."

Their conversation continued over lunch until late in the afternoon. For dinner, Diego insisted to repay their generous acceptance to accommodate him by treating them to dinner in town, and they took him to a small, yet very good tavern.

Mateo and Alma left Madrid, just as they had told Diego, two days later, leaving him master of their house and the young caballero spent his first few days alone searching for a horse to buy. Eventually, he found one to his liking: a white Andalusian, four years of age, called Fantasma.

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"Who are you writing to, Mother?" Gilberto asked as he was packing his things, soon due to head for Segovia, where he had been accepted at the Royal Academy of Artillery.

"To a friend of mine." She answered. "Are you almost ready, Son?"

"Almost, Mother."

"Very good, Gilberto. Now, remember Son! Do everything you need to impress your commanders and win their favor. My husband was an officer in the Navy and you have his name, even if not his blood. Use it! The sooner you convince them you are worthy, the sooner they'll start working in your favor, helping you advance. And one day… sooner or later, you'll be ready for the mission we've been preparing for: the demise of the De la Vegas."

"Yes, Mother. I will make sure to always follow your wise advice."

"It has served you well so far!" She told him with a smile.

The young man nodded, then returned to his room as she returned to her note.

"You did well to refuse him access to the house, Honoria!" She wrote as she continued where she had left off. "As I told you, the real Don Diego de la Vega perished at sea on his way to Spain. Had you not warned me about his arrival, I wouldn't have found out in time about that young man impersonating him so that he could get his hands on the De Lara's money. Please take good care of my former patrons, and make sure that charlatan doesn't get the chance to take advantage of them!"

"There!" She murmured just for herself as she closed the envelope and sealed it with hot wax. "Now, while Honoria will make sure to intercept any future letter he might send, all I need is to do is write to the De Laras that the true Diego died and, if he dares show his face again at their doorstep, they'll know exactly how to receive him! Perhaps they'll even have him thrown in jail!"

ZZZ

After three days spent mostly by himself considering that his only acquaintances in Madrid, besides the family which had refused to meet with him, were gone, Diego decided to pay a visit to Sir Kendall.

At the time he had left California, the tall caballero knew some basics when it came to fencing, but was not much above beginner's level, and never showed any affinity for the sport. Even his father was certain that, despite Edmond's skills, it might take far more than four years to convert a desperate case such as his son into a half-decent swordsman.

Truth be told, all Don Alejandro truly wanted was to be certain that his only heir would be able to defend himself and those he loved once he'd no longer be around to protect him. However, he also hoped Diego might become a good enough swordsman to get his peers' respect and, thus, become the leader he had always sensed he could be.

Diego knew as much, just as he knew his father was underestimating his fighting skills. He was already more than able to defend himself and others, considering he had become proficient in hand-to-hand combat and was quite a master when it came to archery, knife-throwing, and the use of several Indian weapons, such as spears and spear points. Thus, bearing in mind the fact that he had good skills with other weapons, he was wondering if his abysmal skills with the sword were also improvable should he find the right teacher.

Besides that, considering he had grown up hearing stories of Sir Kendall, and his father had been reading his letters to him since he was a child, Diego was also looking forward to meeting him.

To his disappointment, though, the Englishman was away from Madrid at the time, only due to return the week before the classes were set to start at the university.

Diego smiled in frustration rather than amusement as he was informed the man he was searching for was away, then returned to Mateo's house and sat in a chair to read a book. Seeing him so depressed, the housekeeper suggested he should go to El Retiro. Used by the Royal family, the park was not usually open to the public, but, perhaps, she thought, Diego would convince the guards to let him in, especially considering he was the grandson of a nobleman.

He smiled at the suggestion, remembering his grandfather had often mentioned the park to him in his letters, and, taking his sketchbook, walked to the park.

On his way, just as he crossed a street, he was almost trampled by a coach heading east at full speed.

"Are you alright, Señor?" The coachman asked as he managed to stop at the last moment.

"Yes, I am fine!" He replied, a little shaken by the incident.

"Why have you stopped, Paco?" A young man with dark-brown hair and a mustache similar to Diego's asked as he pulled his head out the vehicle's window.

"The caballero was crossing the street, Señor Gilberto! I almost trampled him." He answered apologetically.

"You should be more careful next time, Caballero!" Gilberto addressed Diego. "Let's go, Paco! And hurry up! I want to sleep in a bed tonight!"

Diego had no time to reply as the coach was soon back on its way, so he just stared after it for a few moments, shaking his head, then restarted his walk.