1496
This finding was incredible, simply fantastic. Spain had the feeling that Portugal envied him a little bit for it. Treaties in hand, several of the lands discovered by Columbus and claimed by Spain were in his meridian and therefore belonged to him; that was the way they had fixed things, he argued. Vatican granting Spain bulls over those territories upset him beyond words. But Spain did not want to lose his brother over such a stupid thing, and, with the pious nation, he tried to find a way to split this new territory. He wanted Portugal to explore and claim what he found. That way, Portugal was appeased.
Each of them ordered expeditions to these new lands, full of the strangest people Spain had ever seen. Worried about the clearly Satanic practices he had seen them perform, the effect that would have in the health of their souls, he was accompanied this time by a whole bunch of missionaries—but the ones who followed him the most were traders and adventurers, who had heard about these islands full of gold and treasures and wanted to change their luck, escape from their peasant life.
It was very tempting indeed, the way those natives were willing to change gold for simple knick-knack...
"I have never seen men like those..."
Spain turned his head to Portugal.
"I have visited India, Cipango and China in the past, and they don't even share the same features..." Portugal continued, his arms folded, looking into the horizon, like talking more to himself.
"Asia is very big. There are tons of different races there." Spain just shrugged.
"Have you considered, Your Greatnesses," The man who was by their side couldn't help joining the conversation, "that it may be true what they say? That this may not be Asia after all?"
"And what could it be, then?" Spain drew a side smile.
"Something entirely new. I don't know." The man admitted, and it seemed like, satisfied his temptation to speak his mind, he walked away. His name, Spain found out later, was Amerigo Vespucci.
Spain visited these lands several times, saw new places. He gave the islands the names of his royal family and his faith: Juana, Santa María de la Concepción, Isabela, Fernandina, La Española...He mingled with these tribes which curiously touched his pale skin and clothes. He sensed that there were creatures like him around, but probably he wouldn't meet them: he was told—and it was easily seen in their scarred bodies—that these savages were permanently at war with each other, and the nation was busy conquering or defending their home.
He wasn't very sure of what kind of encounter he could expect. As Columbus said, the natives were meek but stubborn, like animals; one sometimes had to beat them up to get something from them. Many of the men they had left at Navidad had died in mysterious circumstances. There had been episodes of violence from both sides. If he ever encountered the souls of these lands, Spain had to be careful.
Columbus...What a disappointment. The Queen was still hurt by his treason. Given the power he wanted from the beginning, he showed his true colors. His people said he was a very bad governor. Spain could not help but think that many of his people would have survived if he had been a better ruler, instead of making the Indias a graveyard for men who just wanted a better future. And the issue of the prisoners...All the Indians he had captured and sent to Europe without their consent...When the Queen saw his friend bringing all those poor men and women like cattle, she ordered Columbus to immediately bring them back home and he was lucky not to end up in jail at that instant. She was also angry at Spain for allowing it.
"Those people are now your own. Their well-being is now your responsibility. Never, ever let anyone hurt them."
Unfortunately, the conditions of that new environment and such a hard trip killed so many of those poor people. But Spain was determined to do things better next time and compensate Isabella for his mistake.
The occasion came when France became powerful, so powerful that nobody in Europe thought about anything else, and Spain forgot about the Indias.
"France has a considerable army and is tactically superior to all of us. I hate to say it, but it's true." England said, and Spain, Portugal, Vatican, Austria and so many others couldn't but agree. "He is whispering into Italy's ear and if he gets his dirty hands on them, he will be in full control of the Mediterranean sea. We've got to be careful."
They had to join together to face this new threat.
...It hurt, having to admit that France was a threat, after everything they had lived together, the good memories. But, again, like England said, they couldn't be sentimental. France was trying to get his hands on Romano and he belonged to him. He had no right to steal what was not his.
The King and Queen did their part marrying their children with the other members' of the League. Catherine would marry Henry VIII, heir of England's throne; Isabella wanted to leave the world behind and become a nun but instead she was forced to marry with the new heir of Portugal; Joanna would marry Philip of Austria and John, Philip's sister Margaret.
Following their advice, Spain decided to marry Austria himself.
Joanna and Spain traveled together to Flanders, to meet their new husbands. It was a long trip, in which Spain told Joanna everything he had seen in the Indias, like the surprise of the natives when they saw dogs and horses. Their reception in palace couldn't have been more pompous; Spain even felt a little bit uncomfortable. He had the feeling that the noblemen, even the peasants, looked at him like he dressed and behaved like a buffoon. If the people were like that, what would their nation be like? And the prince?
They were taken to the room where the reception would be carried out. A fanfare announced the coming of the host.
"His Greatness, Austria."
This nation wore spectacles and couldn't have been cleaner, tidier, more elegant. The only thing in him that was not was a funny strand in his brown hair that almost made Spain chuckle—even that didn't seem out of place, but put in there with a much aesthetic purpose. His violet eyes were severe, and as he approached the place where Spain and Joanna were, he studied his future husband, or maybe started noticing flaws.
The man by his side was an eighteen year-old man, not less sumptuous. France spread the rumor that this boy was Philip the Handsome, and now that Spain saw him face to face, he certainly was. He turned to see Joanna evidently thought the same.
"Do you like him?" He whispered into her ear.
She didn't reply immediately, her face getting red.
"...I do..." She whispered in the end.
While the future spouses talked, Austria and Spain had their own private conversation. At first, Spain didn't know what to say. Austria wasn't that much of a talkative man and it almost seemed like a formal business meeting than a wedding. He supposed he had to break the ice, and so he kissed Austria's cheeks.
"Well, here we are. I am sure we will do wonders together." Spain smiled.
Austria looked like he would have cleaned his cheeks if it wasn't rude to do it in front of him. "...Sure...We could start by showing you our customs..."
"Why? Don't you kiss each other here?"
"Well, no."
"Oh, sorry."
Austria did a gesture and three other nations approached.
"These are my underlings, and from now on, they are yours too. These are Belgium," A blonde girl with pretty green eyes bowed, "Luxembourg," A boy with long bangs covering his right eye bowed his head, "and Holland." The last one, a tall man with spiky hair, did not show any kind of courtesy, but just stared at Spain in a way that he interpreted as disapproval and even a bit of despise.
"Nice to meet you all. I don't want you to see me like a boss, but like just one more member of a big, pretty family." Spain smiled. But he could not help feeling delighted that he had just become someone's chief. He, who had been a servantfor so long, now owned other nations.
Later that same day, at the altar, Spain would reflect on his own words.
Family...
"Kingdom of Spain, do you take the Austrian Empire to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love, honor and obey, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live?"
That would be a very long time and...It didn't feel like a bad idea, or some kind of obligation. Even if it was not his idea entirely...Spain thought he could get used to the idea...Of living with Austria, and their subordinates...All together...Happy...
"...Yes, I do..." He replied.
"I now pronounce you duly married."
There was no kiss, but a grin grew on Spain's face, taking Austria's hand, towards a bright future...
1500
The palace of Gante was decorated for the occasion, the most important people of all Flanders were there. Spain still found them a bit...a little...too...he wasn't sure of how to describe it, honestly. But he guessed everything would get better with time. They would get used to him, he would get used to them.
It was being a really marvelous party, with tons of food, music, entertainment...Maybe just one thing distracted Spain.
He was left in charge of little Leonor and now he was finding out why. Joanna was just running around, looking into each chamber, behind every curtain...staring at each woman...Philip was nowhere to be seen, but everyone had the suspicion of where he was. Joanna had to know too. That was why she was looking for him so passionately. She was in an advanced stage of pregnancy but that did not stop her. She didn't know why her husband had abandoned her among so many people she didn't know.
She disappeared soon from Spain's sight and he tried not to think about it, not to spoil the fun. It was something he could do nothing about, after all, in spite of the warnings he had given to Philip...
He left Leonor under the supervision of a maid and joined the party.
Spain cleared his throat and Belgium turned around to find him extending his hand to her.
"May I have this dance?" He asked.
She looked around with a smile.
"I'd love to, my Lord, but you know, I am supposed to be working..."
"Uh-Uh. First, no need to call me 'my Lord'. Second, this is a party, isn't it? It wouldn't be a real party if not everyone was having fun." Spain replied.
"What about me?" Romano complained, carrying a silver tray with appetizers in his hands. "You only ask her because she is a pretty girl!"
"You too, Romano." Spain chuckled. "You're right. You may have a little rest. And if someone asks you who gave you the right, tell them I did."
"Yay!" Like the child he was, Romano dropped the tray and ran away.
Spain laughed and looked at Belgium again, offering her his hand once more.
"Well, alright, I am not as foolish as to refuse a little fun..." She replied.
So Spain took her to the center of the ballroom and joined the group of people who were dancing.
"My, my, you really look gorgeous tonight..." Spain complimented Belgium, whispering to her ear.
"Me? Oh, please, with these rags I'm wearing..." Belgium replied, blushing.
"Even with these rags, you are still the star that shines the brightest here."
"Oh, dear, it is true that they say about Mediterranean men...I would watch my mouth if I were you. Your princes might not find the way you speak to me decent."
"And keeping to myself something like that? Do you want to see me explode? Nope, I can't do that."
"Ahem."
Both turned their heads to see Austria standing by them.
"Shall I have this dance?" He asked, extending a hand.
"Of course!" It was Spain the one to reply, leaving Belgium and grabbed Austria.
"Hey! I meant the miss!" Austria frowned and tried to push away.
"Come on, sad little man, don't you want to dance with your husband?" Spain grinned, and he made Austria spin.
"Everybody is looking at us! Stop making a fool of yourself!"
"Our relationship is not going to work. You are too serious." Spain pouted comically, letting him go and crossing his arms like a child.
"And you are too lighthearted..." Austria frowned, adjusting the lenses he almost lost in the spinning.
"What is wrong about celebrating life, huh?"
"Well-"
"Hey, you." Romano reappeared, pulled Spain's robe.
"What?" Spain turned around and crouched to look at him.
"Your princess must have eaten something spoiled, because she is not having a good time at the toilet right now."
"Oh, dear. Uhm, excuse me for a second, darling, you can keep on reprimanding me later."
With those words, Spain left Austria and Belgium and followed Romano through the prince's castle. Without his little servant's help, he would have gotten lost for sure.
Romano yawned.
"What time is it? Is this ball going to go on for much longer?" He asked with a frown.
"I don't think so."
"I'm tired already."
"Well, I could go on until dawn."
"Sure, you don't have to clean."
They finally arrived to the restroom. It was true that Joanna was...severely indisposed. Spain could hear her whines.
He hesitated but eventually knocked at the door.
"Joannie? It's me, Spain. Is everything alright? Should I call a doctor or...something? You don't need my help, ri-"
"UAAAAAAARGHHH!"
Spain drew back a little. Gee, it was worse than he thought! He had eaten a lot that night and thought he was fine, but now he was scared!
"I-I'm coming in, alright?" He warned, and he pushed the door.
What he saw made him gasp, and Romano, behind him, wrinkled his nose in disgust.
"Ewww!" the child exclaimed.
"Romano, quick, go call somebody!" Spain ordered him.
Romano didn't need him to say it twice. He fled, not wanting to see what he saw: Spain's princess on the floor, with her legs spread and between them a baby covered in blood and liquid.
The baby was baptized with the name of Charles, and from the very moment of his birth he was not only destined to be the King of Spain, but also Holy Roman Emperor, Archduke of Austria and Duke of Burgundy. The child who was born in the toilet.
Some time would have to pass until he became those formally, but diplomacy was still working. Everyone was already looking at Spain. The birth of the heir of both his house and Habsburg's meant him and Austria's lives were going to be connected. And such connection was achieved as Isabella and Ferdinand had planned. And all thanks to that baby.
"Look at you, Charles, my beloved...The blood of so many dynasties runs through your veins..."
It was a peaceful afternoon, he had requested to see the child. He had some experience with children: after all, he had been the playmate of so many royal babies, and their children, and their children's children. He loved children and liked to think they loved him back. He was funny and played all sorts of things with them. They were God's most beautiful creation. So innocent, so pure.
Charles also looked so pure. So small...Who would have thought something like that would inherit so many kingdoms?
They knocked at the door. Austria came in. Spain made him a gesture to approach carefully. The baby was falling asleep and didn't want to disturb him. So Austria proceeded carefully, in silence, and stopped by Spain's side to gaze at the child without opening his mouth. Little Charles closed his eyes and Spain left it in his cradle carefully, as if he was made of something extremely delicate. He didn't want to let go of his tiny hand but he eventually did. Placing a hand on Austria's shoulder, both of them left the room.
"I sometimes wish they stayed like that forever."
"We need to talk." Austria dryly said.
"About what?"
"It's Miguel da Paz. The prince."
"Yes, what about him?" Spain rose his head to Austria, suddenly fearing what was coming next.
And Austria confirmed his suspicions. "We just got the news that he has died."
It felt like cold water. Birthing Miguel was the last thing poor Isabella did in her life. He was the heir of the Castilian and the Portuguese throne, everyone hoped he would live...He wasn't two yet...
"You know what that means, right?" Austria continued.
Miguel was the heir of Isabella and Ferdinand after his mother died. And she was to inherit the throne because John had died of a fever three years before—a fever called Margaret, who he loved with passion.
"That means...Joanna has just become the heiress of Castile and Aragon..." Spain muttered.
"Exactly. And you and I know she is not prepared for something like that." Austria said.
Spain crossed his arms.
"Well, yes, I know her faith is very weak, but, hey, I used to think God was only a fairy tale and changed my mind; I'm sure she-"
"I am not talking about her religious beliefs. You and I know Joanna is deranged."
Spain frowned. "Our marriage will not start well if you insult my princess."
"I am insulting no one. I am just saying what everybody thinks. Haven't you seen her?"
"She adores your Phillip and what does he do? He leaves her alone all the time. I try to distract her but everyone in Europe knows he seeks the company of other women. She knows. I would be jealous and angry too if that happened to me! And you know her siblings have died recently. She was close to them, it's been terrible for her. Why can't you understand her?"
"Alright, I understand. But do you think a woman like that can reign? As if women were not unstable and emotional enough."
"I trust Joanna."
"You are letting your emotions cloud your judgement."
"Sometimes I feel like the ones who are cold are you. All of you."
That was the first of their 'marital fights'. And, much to Spain's disappointment, Austria was the one who was right after all.
1504
Isabella knew she was dying. She knew that her condition could only worsen. At a certain point, she asked everyone around her to stop praying for her health and start praying for her soul.
"Bring the scribe...I want to make my testament...Spain...Stay here, please...I want you to listen to this..."
It was so hard, seeing Isabella, who conquered the Nasrids, stay in bed, practically with no strength left...Spain took her hand as she looked at the ceiling, putting an order to her thoughts.
"The worse is seeing my children die...Oh, Spain, my good Spain, I am so glad you can't conceive and go through that kind of pain...Bury me at the monastery of the Alhambra...It is a really beautiful place for my bones to rest...A plain stone on the floor with the name engraved on it, with no bulk...I name my dear daughter, the princess Joanna, heiress of my domains, and require all noblemen and subjects to obey and assist her...You, Spain, please help her...Don't let her retract from our religion..."
"Of course not, Isabella. I will take care of that..." Spain assured her.
"And take care of our subjects who live overseas. Save their souls. Help them find the Lord. If you ever go beyond Gibraltar, to conquer Africa, don't forget that you are there to bring them the Cross and salvation...Take care of the Indians, Spain, it is very important. They are your own people. Don't let anybody hurt them, for they would be hurting you..."
Isabella took air.
"Pay the debts we might have with our servants, and with the money that is left, pay 20,000 masses for my soul, and...a million maravedis to get maidens in need married, and the same quantity...to all humble women who want to enter a convent..."
"Anything else, Isabella? Anything you want..." Spain said.
Isabella gazed at him and nodded.
"Never forget what you came to do into this world..." She said, caressing his cheek. And he gently took that hand to kiss it.
Isabella reunited with her Maker soon before noon, the 24th of November. That day Joanna was nowhere to be found. Rumors said that the servants had seen her screaming in the porch.
Everyone knew she was crazy...
And Philip, her husband, and Ferdinand, her father, took advantage of it.
Both of them tried to declare her mad and assume control over Spain.
1506
"You should be on my side, Spain." Ferdinand said.
A long pause.
"I don't know, my Lord..." Spain finally said.
"We both know that this rotten rat, Philip, only wanted to dominate you, no matter who he had to trample on. He had duties as a husband and he's done nothing but insulting me and my daughter with every filthy woman he has come across. He has been conspiring with the noblemen, bribing them, to get their support. He's been throwing all of my late wife's work away. He is an outsider who doesn't care for you and will surely make you Flemish, and put you after Austria."
"Austria won't let that happen."
"Will Austria renounce to be the one who wears the pants? Allow me to doubt that."
"Isabella said that Joanna is the Queen now."
"And I have to take care of things because she is completely out of her mind. She is a ball of jealousy, an embarrassment and a headache. Do you think I will allow her to be in charge of your well being? She can't even take care of her own children!"
"She would probably feel better if you treated her a bit more nicely..."
"What she needs is to be somewhere quiet and..."
A messenger knocked at the door before coming in, after bowing down to them.
"Your Highness...Your Greatness...The King..." He stuttered.
Before he could catch his breath and explain himself, Spain already feared for Joanna.
Phillip was dead. And there were people who already speculated that Joanna had much to do with it. It all happened after he drank cold water after playing with the ball... Everyone knew of his infidelity and her mental weakness. He was sick and probably by her own hand. How could they think such a thing, Spain asked himself, seeing Joanna still by her husband's side, long after his heart stopped beating, the way she had been since he fell sick, seeing that look on her face, as if the one who died was her?
Joanna was serene upon seeing such a tragic ending, yes, and it was a praiseworthy behavior. But then she started showing signs of madness.
The King was to be buried there, in Burgos, but Joanna wanted him to find eternal rest in Granada, in the royal mausoleum her mother had ordered to build. She didn't stop until Phillip was exhumed and transported in a four-horse chariot, accompanied by a group of monks which took care of the corpse and prayed. And him and Austria, of course. It was their duty to follow.
People talked, and they had a good reason. Like a vampire, Joanna avoided the sunlight and only traveled at night, escorted by a procession of torches which made everyone who witnessed it shiver.
She was heavily pregnant, Spain had tried to convince her to stay at the castle, but she refused. Nothing would keep her away from that coffin.
The pest was threatening them. She even had to stop in Torquemada to give birth. But nothing could make her change her mind. Not even Spain.
"Joanna...Please...You don't have to do this. This is killing you."
She didn't even stop to rest at a convent, as if she was afraid that her husband would come out of the coffin and find another woman to satisfy his needs with.
"Please, you have to go home."
For the first time in months, Joanna reacted. She turned her head to her nation and looked at him into his eyes.
"...Antonio...Love is quite like dying...But what do you know? I doubt you ever loved. But maybe one day you will love someone...and you will understand..."
Again those empty eyes, again breathing for that rotting corpse...
Her father got what he wanted: Joanna was clearly mad, he was now king of Castile and Aragon. He had now a mission for Spain: convincing Joanna to bury her husband once and for all and find a...proper place for her to stay and mourn. And he didn't know how he was going to do that. He really had no idea.
Poor Joanna. Poor silly humans.