A birthday present for Anna.
Many thanks to Aragarna for the beta work!
Alejandro had disliked oranges since childhood. More precisely, feasting on the fruits in secret, little Alejito hoped every time that everything would be all right, but the boy suffered retribution in the form of itchy blisters or abdominal pain until he finally came to terms with the fact that the tempting fruits were not for him.
Three years in Madrid had turned Diego into a different person (perhaps all was not lost yet? love and labour could help, but his son did not like to deal with the affairs of the rancho even before he went studying at the university, and local señoritas could not be compared with the capital's beauties), but Diego still had a sense of tact and did not mention las naranjas unless absolutely necessary.
However, while talking about how the scoundrel Monastario pursued Don Nacho, his son mentioned that the Comandante obviously loved oranges. For some reason, Alejandro remembered this detail today. Also, while driving around the property and watching workers collecting orange fruits, inaccessible to him, Alejandro was thinking about his son, who had loved orange sweets since childhood. Diego suddenly needed a book, which, according to his explanation, could only be bought in Monterrey, and he and Bernardo went to the capital that same day. This seemed suspicious to Alejandro, but, firstly, Diego was an adult man and had the right to make his own decisions, and secondly, who knows if there was a love affair behind the story about buying a book? Although Alejandro would prefer to meet his future daughter-in-law in time, so that it would be possible to prevent an unsuitable girl from becoming a member of the de la Vega family.
It should be admitted that Alejandro hoped that Diego had not turned into a complete weakling, and he hurriedly left for Monterrey, knowing that Don Esteban and his daughter would go there too. Alejandro hoped that the Viceroy would have to stay longer in the capital, and if Constancia would give his son a chance... After all, poetry, music and fashionable suits could be useful! God willing, there would never be commandants like Monastario in their pueblo again, and Diego... since he had loved Madrid so much, then maybe he should marry someone with whom he could return to the capital of the Kingdom? Moreover, this mysterious Zorro helped them in the fight against Monastario (and he also chased the outlaws who kidnapped Constancia, according to Sergeant García), and Diego... what could one say! Sometimes Alejandro thought that he should have sent his son to the Army, and not to the university. Yes, the Army was no longer the same, but Diego at least would have learned to wield a weapon and would not disgrace the honor of the de la Vega family. Before Madrid his son was another person!
Cursing the University of Alcalá in a low voice, Alejandro went into the office to drink coffee and do his correspondence (it was customary to do this early in the morning, but Señor de la Vega did not like paperwork, and therefore usually put off sorting mail until noon).
How great was his surprise when, among the letters, he discovered a message from the Viceroy's daughter! Having opened Constancia's letter, Alejandro, not without hope for good news, read the girl's ornate handwriting.
However, the tone chosen by the señorita after a couple of generally accepted phrases seemed too weird to him.
"Don Alejandro, what I intend to tell you must remain between us."
Having finished his coffee in one gulp, Alejandro internally prepared for any surprises. And they were not slow to follow.
"Your son is without a doubt the outlaw El Zorro. Among other things, I know about the awards Diego won in sword competitions. It is sad that the young caballero, whose talents had won the praise of my dear father and brother, is now using them against His Majesty. However, could it be otherwise given that you, Don Alejandro, rebel against the Spanish authorities? Out of respect for your advanced age," Constancia stung the addressee, "I shall not develop this topic. However, know that Captain Monastario, against whom you have taken up arms, became a victim of political games, the details of which I have no right to report. Your son Diego, it seemed to me then, was ready to atone for his guilt. But I was wrong. My suspicion is growing that he had a bad influence on the Captain, otherwise events would have developed differently. It is possible that your son dragged the Captain into one of those dangerous adventures that Zorro loves so much. Diego's penchant for illegal activities is now obvious to me, and, it should be noted, you and he are similar in this. I pray to the Lord that I am wrong in my assumptions."
Having come to his senses, Alejandro ordered servants to pack his things quickly for the trip to Monterrey. He was convinced that the scoundrel Monastario had fooled Constancia and escaped, and Diego, whom the señorita in love had forced to release the former Comandante, was now pursuing this rogue. Zorro, a noble soul, could not leave Constancia in trouble, so time was lost. "A bad influence," ha! Why are some girls so silly? However, Constancia was still right about one thing: the son was just like his father, after all!
Late that morning, Diego de la Vega, spreading orange marmelade on a bun, said thoughtfully, "I don't know what I should write to my father. I can't tell the truth, but I'm tired of lying."
"Sorry, I can't advise you anything," responded Captain Monastario.
Taking a short breath, Diego looked up at his breakfast companion and realized that he had learned to smile like Enrique—without opening his lips. Looking at the face opposite of him, covered with three days stubble, de la Vega was tempted to joke that the role of a bandit had a bad influence on Monastario. Moreover, the Captain had to play it twice, and the second time he was riding Blanco. Diego was chuckling to himself that in his declining years he would have to write his memoirs, which, due to the secrets they contained, should be passed off as novels. "If you cannot clothe yourself in the skin of a lion, put on that of a fox", "The blue-eyed outlaw on the white horse" and so on.
"If you are against it, tell me directly," de la Vega suddenly demanded, returning to the private conversation interrupted by the meal.
"That's not the point," the Captain lowered his voice, although he and Diego were having breakfast, sitting at a table in the corner of the almost empty dining room of the tavern. "I still have little idea of my future. If you can't find the right words for your father, then maybe it's still worth coming back before the bridges are burned?"
"My father," Diego interrupted, "after your arrest once again made it clear to me that he was disappointed with his poet of a son. As he said then... 'Sometimes I think I should have sent you to the Army instead of the damn university!'"
"Even so? You know, anything can happen," Monastario said thoughtfully.
"'Sergeant de la Vega' sounds terrible," Diego laughed, popping the bun into his mouth.
"And a corporal?" Enrique grinned.
De la Vega shook his head.
Monastario flashed a smile; lately he had been fooling around like a boy, and he was starting to enjoy it. No, not enjoying carelessness—but the taste of life. The insolence. The intoxicating feeling of forging his destiny like... Toledo steel.
However, the fun with Diego, of course, was feigned. It hid how the mentioned bridges were burning and collapsing. De la Vega had decided everything for himself long ago, but he had been waiting for an answer. And he had just received it.
As we see, in matter of "bad influence", Doña Constancia turned out to be absolutely right. Only it was mutual.