By December 1813, Napoleon's wars were not going as well as the Emperor had imagined they would, and Spain had turned out to be unconquerable. Realizing his only choice at that point was to reinstate the Spanish king, the Emperor agreed to return Ferdinand to his throne.

Yet, as he arrived back in Madrid at the beginning of 1814, the Spanish king found his country in ruins. The colonies were in open rebellion, making shipments of silver and gold scarce, and the economy was all but destroyed. To survive on the throne, he needed resources, yet none of his still-faithful noblemen, few as they were, had what it took to help.

Consequently, he accepted the suggestion of a young Colonel one of his viscounts introduced to him, to start collecting more taxes from the most peaceful of the colonies, appointing him and several of his peers to the task.

"I do know someone who might be able to lend you the money needed, Your Majesty," a tall, white-haired, and white-bearded man wearing the ceremonial clothes of an abbot told the king one Spring day, as Ferdinand was just leaving a bishop he had met in an attempt to ask the Church to help him.

"And who might that be, padre?" Ferdinand demanded to know.

"A young man called Sebastian de Murrieta. He's just returned to Spain, bringing with him a huge fortune. I hear he's set on becoming a nobleman. I am sure he can easily be convinced to support your cause in exchange for becoming a… count, perhaps?."

"And you know this man, padre? You can vouch for him?"

"Indeed, I do."

"In that case, can you arrange for me to meet this young man?"

"I believe I can," the abbot said with a smile.

As he watched the king leave, Emmanuel neared him with two horses. "And?" the young man asked.

"He's willing to meet Señor Sebastian. Unfortunately, he is away at the moment, only to return to Madrid about a week from now."

"Are you sure it's wise to keep a king waiting? What if he finds someone else willing to give him the money he needs?"

"I doubt it. As for waiting, the longer he waits, the easier it will be to convince him to take us up on our offer. Besides, we still need to do some more research."

ZZZ

The meeting was eventually established for a Thursday afternoon at 5 p.m., exactly a week and a day later.

And, just as the clock announced the hour, a young man dressed in the style of the Orient, made his way towards the throne room.

"Don Sebastian de Murrieta!" he announced, and everyone there turned to stare at the tall man towering over everyone else in the room. He wore a short, well-kept black beard and mustache, while long, slightly curly hair reached his shoulders to frame his face. As for his eyes, their blue mesmerized all the women looking at him, none indifferent to the man's good looks.

Making his way self-confidently through the gathered members of the court, he stopped before the throne and bowed to the king, waiting for him to address him.

Ferdinand stared a little at him, then ordered everyone to vacate the premises.

"What I have to talk to you is quite private," he explained as soon as only the two of them were left in the huge hall.

"I understand, Your Majesty," the young man replied.

"Have you been to my palace before?"

"No, Your Majesty."

"Then how did you manage to be here right on time?"

The young man smiled. "I would never have dared to keep my king waiting, Your Majesty."

"I see…" the king smiled his approval, then began walking through the room, signing for the young man to accompany him. "Do you know why there are so many mirrors in this room?" he asked at one point.

"Because kings don't like secrets and by using them you can find out much of what goes on in your court?"

"Yes… Secrets can cause our demise," Ferdinand replied, quite impressed. "So, tell me, Señor, how come your very existence has been a secret to me till not so long ago? How is it that only one person in this town seems to know you?"

"I might have been born here, in Madrid, Your Majesty, but I did spend most of my life away from Spain. I only returned here rather recently."

"And the source of your fortune…"

"A large inheritance from a man to whom I owe more than I could repay in a lifetime…"

Ferdinand nodded his approval. "I see… Well, it is precisely that inheritance of yours I was hoping we could discuss today…"

"I was informed of that, Your Majesty."

"So you know what I am going to ask of you?"

"A very large loan, I assume. 5 million perhaps?"

"That would be, indeed, the sum I need. Are you able to give me such a loan?"

"I am indeed, Your Majesty."

"Excellent!" the king said with enthusiasm. "In exchange, besides a 5% interest on your loan, I am willing to offer you what you most desire: the title of a count. You'll be the equal of most of those in my court and you'll have my undying gratitude."

The young man nodded pensively.

The king seemed puzzled. "Is that not enough?"

"No. Or rather, I believe I can offer you a better deal, Your Majesty."

"A better deal?"

"Yes. I can offer you the money you need, not as a loan but as a gift."

"You'd just give me 5 million, in gold, without asking for them back?" Ferdinand asked incredulously.

"Indeed, I would."

The king looked puzzled. "I have never met someone to offer money without asking for anything in return. Especially considering the sum."

"And you haven't now, either, Your Majesty." Sebastian said. "I will not ask you for the money back, but there are other ways for you to repay me."

"I see… You want more than a title. Or is it a different title you want?"

"No. Not a different title. What I ask for in exchange for my gift, besides the title you have so kindly offered, is your protection and your signature on some papers I took the precaution of bringing with me," he said, producing a set of documents and handing it to the king.

The older man took them with some puzzlement and started reading them. "This is all?" he asked, baffled, after glancing at some of them.

"Yes."

"These papers..." he wondered at finding three documents written in such a way as to give one power over any official named by the king.

"Call them blank checks… In my travels, I might find myself in need of your aid, but too far away for you to give it to me. That is the reason for those papers."

"And you expect me to sign them? Without knowing how you will use them? You could help my enemies – Napoleon, for all I know – and this will help you do so with no repercussions…"

"I can promise you, Your Majesty, that those papers will only serve to save innocent lives, not to take them, nor to hurt you, or Spain. And I certainly have no interest in seeing Napoleon prevail. In truth, the only reason I need them stems from the corruption in the colonies. I am heading for the Americas, and I would rather have some sort of insurance against the greed and evilness demonstrated by some of the leaders there, most of them named by the Bonapartes or their men."

"Can you give me your word, then? You will not use them to cause me or this country any harm?"

"You have my word, Your Majesty. In exchange, I hope you won't forget you signed them, or my words."

Ferdinand nodded. "In that case and considering your gift, you also have my word that, should the time come for you to require my help, you shall have it," he said before restarting to peruse the papers again. "A land grant, I understand, though I doubt its value will ever be the equivalent of what you're offering… But the amnesties? Who are these people anyway?"

"Men the French punished, some at the command of one of the men you currently trust to represent you abroad."

"You mean my enemies are not just in this palace…"

"I fear not, Your Majesty. Though I doubt you'll have much trouble discovering them when you begin questioning how soon after the French took over those you now deem faithful to you had sided with the invaders."

"I, too, once trusted Napoleon," the king confessed.

"True. You were deceived. Others might have been, as well. But not all of them were involved in the crimes the French committed against your people." Diego uttered.

The king stared at him once again, then took the papers and signed the ones Diego had handed him earlier before heading for a cabinet by his throne, and taking out a rolled paper. "I didn't know what estate you have and none of my men seem to know anything about you. What should it say on your title?" He asked.

"Dragonera. I want to be Count of Dragonera," he replied.

"A strange name for a strange man," the king muttered as he filled in the title. "Use them well, Your Excellency! May they serve to undo some of the wrongs caused by my own blindness," he said as he returned the documents to Diego.

"I will ensure that, Your Majesty."

"Oh… How did you manage to obtain papers bearing the royal watermark?"

A few days earlier Diego had come up with a plan. A rather dangerous one that meant he had to use a disguise in order to sneak into the palace and get the watermarked documents straight from under the king's nose. But, of course, he could hardly confess to it. "I have in my employment some… let's say "resourceful men", Your Majesty. They usually handle certain matters for me. I ask no questions, and they give me no information about their trade. They just deliver what I ask them for," he said instead – not a complete lie, for he did find and hire such people.

"I see… Well, then… If that is done, I expect the gold to be delivered in ten days."

"The gold was already delivered the moment I arrived, Your Majesty. I believe it is already in your coffers," the young man answered with a smile.

The king seemed baffled by that answer, taking a few moments to reply. "How could you know I'd accept your terms?"

"As you, yourself, noticed, I hardly asked for much."

"No… In fact, you were more than reasonable; and did a great service to your country, Señor."

"It was my honor, Your Majesty."

"You are the kind of man I'd rather have by my side than against me, aren't you, Count of Dragonera?"

"I do believe I am, Your Majesty!"

"Then, perhaps, you might consider joining my court. After you return from your trip, perhaps…"

"Honored as I am by your offer, I don't actually intend to return, Your Majesty."

"Shame… I could have used a man like you by my side…" The king said, and allowed the young man to depart, inwardly regretting he couldn't convince him to stay. If there was one thing he needed, it was friends. The kind that didn't switch sides on a whim or simply because the wind had changed direction, and there was something about that young man that told him he was exactly the type of man he was looking for.