"Who?"asked Pietro.
"Just someone else I met. It was purely coincidental."Lance told him.
"And from that one coincidence, it landed us here!"
"At least we have better food. And better living conditions."
"Yeah, working like slaves. And following orders for that idiot!"
"Watch your language. He might not like any cussing."
Pietro ran out of sight, as soon as he saw him approaching again.
In the dining room, while Javier grabbed his napkin, and used it to slap the page who had spilled wine on his coat, he distracted Petra from her conversation with the Conde.
"Hijo, hijo! Now, that is not the proper way to behave at table!"
"And spilling is! He spilled it!"
The boy only looked frightened, and mumbled an apology.
"He's new."commented the count.
"Ah, his father asked me to give him a job. It looks like the Diaz aren't doing as well as they seem impressing."
"Oh! Don't tell me you are Julio Diaz's son!"exclaimed Fernanda.
"Um, yes."
"I never thought I'd live to see the day when you would be waiting on me. Well, what are you waiting for? Aren't you going to pour my wine? Before they put you to the bastinado?"
"You are going to the bastinado."Javier said.
The boy looked frightened.
"Forget about the wine. Vicente! This boy deserves to be taught a lesson."
"And one that he won't forget in a good while!"said Javier.
"Enough! Enough! As I was saying, Prisco was telling me this morning that it will be a very excellent idea, and quite beneficial to Fernando's career for him to marry my niece."she was saying.
"I don't think Nando will be willing to marry anyone just yet, Tia."said Javier.
"Well, perhaps not Fernando, however, I think it would be a good idea to get find her a husband."
"I don't want a have a husband."said Fernanda. "Not Fernando."
"But, darling, Fernando Ortiz is an excellent match for you. Wouldn't you agree, Eugenia?"she asked her niece, the count's sister.
"Um, of course. Yes. Of course, tia."
"No. I will not marry Fernando Ortiz."
"I have spoken to Prisco, and he agrees. He shall see that el Capitan Ortiz proposes to you, and comes to ask for your hand in marriage as soon as possible. I do not want you to become a solterona."
"Well, I want to choose whom I marry."
"Absolutely not! How can a simple girl like yourself choose between a good man and a scoundrel. You will marry whomever I say is best for you. And that's all there is to it!"she said, stamping her cane, to emphasize her words.
Fernanda was about to open her mouth, but changed her mind. Her mother had her head bowed, her uncle, sipping his wine, Javier, looking at her, and her aunt, pretending nothing had happened.
"They can't make me marry anyone. Unless they drag me in, and put a gun to my head, and perhaps not even then will they get me to accept. Only perhaps killing me."
"You know they just might do that."Javier told her.
"Then let them! We'll see if they have the nerve!"