monarch

Late at night on July [-]th, the porter of the residence of the Duke of Alba in Madrid was awakened by the sound of horses' hooves.He groaned twice, rolled on the bed, and was about to fall asleep again, but he heard a loud knock on the wrought iron door outside the porter's room.

Sleepily, the porter got up from the bed, lit a lantern, put on his nightgown and went out.He saw a carriage and some horses waiting outside the gate.

"Your Excellency is back." The leading guard on the horse put down his cloak, showed his face to the porter, "quickly open the door."

The porter hastily pulled the latch of the door and opened it.The two horses pulling the cart took small steps, walked half a circle along the gravel road surrounding the fountain, and stopped firmly in front of the mansion.

Duke Alva pushed open the car door and got out of the car, and walked into the mansion. After about 5 minutes, a light yellow candle light lit up in the window of a house on the second floor, and about a quarter of an hour passed. , the candlelight went out, and the whole mansion fell into darkness again.

After lunch the next day, yesterday's carriage drove out of the Duke's gate again.The whole city is quiet, and it is the time of Siesta (siesta), which is sacred to the Spaniards, and no one can be seen on the street.The scorching sun shone down on the dusty road, and there was not even a breath of wind in the air except for the draft caused by the passing carriage.The trees on both sides of the road hung their heads, their leaves trembling weakly in the hot air.

The mansion of the Duke of Alva is not too far from the Royal Castle, and a team of guards standing guard at the gate of the palace is passing through the square in front of the palace sparsely.Sweat trickled down their dusty brows, leaving tawny furrows behind them.A few flies were hovering in the air, and as soon as the carriage stopped in front of the gate of the palace, these pests couldn't wait to land on the roof of the carriage, staring at the passengers getting off the carriage, as if the Duke of Alva was a huge piece of hair. Smells like carrion.

The sad-faced steward of the court greeted Duke Alva in the hall. Compared with the appearance the Duke remembered, the hair on the top of the head of the steward was even thinner.

"You are finally here!" The steward took a step forward and took the Duke's hand, "His Majesty always asks about your situation every time he wakes up."

"I don't want too many people to see it." Duke Alva said cryptically.

"Then let's take the small stairs." The manager nodded knowingly.

When the two climbed up the stairs, Duke Alva slightly tilted his head in the direction of the steward, "How is your Majesty doing?"

The steward looked around cautiously, "It's not very good... Your Majesty's body has already been hollowed out, and the Armada incident dealt him a huge blow, and the doctors seem helpless."

The duke's face became a little ugly, but he didn't look very surprised. He was obviously mentally prepared for the current situation.

The door of Philip II's room was always crowded with nobles and officials who tried to let the king see them. The only ones who saw Duke Alva enter the room were the two guards who had been standing guard at the door.

The King of Spain was lying on his back on the bed, and when he heard the footsteps of Duke Alva coming in, he slowly opened his eyes.The Duke noticed the king's blue-gray face and shaggy beard. The king looked like an ascetic on weekdays, but now he had almost turned into Jesus Christ who had been hanging on the cross for three days.

"How are you...Your Excellency?" Philip II supported the bed with his arms and tried to sit up. Duke Alva quickly ran a few steps to support the king's back.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, I am fine." The Duke put a pillow on the king's back, let Philip II lean on it, and then saluted the king.

"But I'm not well." The voice from the king's throat was like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing against each other, "That's why I have to trouble you to come here all the way from the Netherlands."

"Serving His Majesty is my bounden duty. I believe that God bless Your Majesty, and Your Majesty will be able to turn bad luck into good fortune." Duke Alva said with relief.

The King did his signature move again, making the sign of the cross across his chest.

"If I hadn't been fully sure of my situation, I wouldn't have called you back from the Netherlands at this time." Philip II bit the dry dead skin on his lips, "If I'm not mistaken If not, the situation there is over."

"It can be supported." Duke Alva pondered for a moment, and finally decided not to tell the cruel truth to the king, but how could the situation in the Netherlands be summed up by the four understatement words "can still support"!

Since the fall of the Armada, the Spanish army has retreated in great strides several times. The Breda Fortress in the North Netherlands that has been besieged has been withdrawn. The port of Antwerp, which was originally used as a base for invading Britain, was abandoned. Now the British flag Already flying above the remnants of the City Hall, which had been destroyed in the fire. An army of 15 gathered in the narrow area between Brussels and Liege, trying to protect themselves. Although the Dutch were not yet capable of confronting the Flanders Army, the British expeditionary force had already landed. If King Edward really decides to help the Netherlands recover the remaining half of the country, then the Flanders Legion may not have much chance of winning.

"What I'm thinking about now is not the Netherlands, but Spain." Philip II looked at the ceiling in a daze, as if he saw St. Michael, the archangel who came to guide him to heaven.

"You told me before that you don't think my son Don Carlos is a suitable candidate to inherit the Spanish throne." Suddenly, King Philip looked at Duke Alva without warning, and asked a question in a calm tone. A question that made the Duke shudder.

"I did say that." The Duke looked a little nervous, but admitted frankly.

"Do you still think so?" asked the king again.

This time, Duke Alva hesitated longer, "Prince Don Carlos is your only heir."

The king waved his hand, "That's not what I asked."

"I only have one son, but there is always no shortage of heirs to the throne. If you were given a choice, would you support my son to become the king of Spain? Or would you choose someone who in your opinion is more capable in today's turmoil? Someone at the helm of a treacherous situation—such as my illegitimate brother, Don Juan?"

"I have no right to say something like this." Duke Alva bit his head, and his lips were tightly pressed together, as if he was afraid that his mouth would say something uncontrollably that would make him regret it.

"But you must have thought about this question." Philip II did not intend to end the conversation at all, "During the half-month journey here from the Netherlands, at some point, you must have thought about this question...I want to know You think so, this will be a private conversation and will not have any impact on you or your family."

"I have indeed done some hypothetical thinking..." Duke Alva thought for a while, and finally spoke again, "I have never been an admirer of your son, but there are some inviolable principles in this world, among which One is the divine order of succession."

"Since when did you start caring about this?" Philip II laughed dryly.

"If we leave the order of succession today, who knows how many princes and princesses will call themselves kings tomorrow? You can disinherit your son, but many will still see him as a legitimate monarch, That would lead to a civil war." Duke Alva looked straight at the king, "Spain cannot take any risks now."

"You know Don Carlos doesn't like you." The king's eyes lit up with interest.

"If His Highness wishes, I will hand over my letter of resignation to him."

"But I don't want that." Philip II said, "The captain's mind is not sound, so he must be matched with an experienced first mate."

The king coughed a few times, and Duke Alva tried to help him, but the king waved his hand and refused.

"I want you to be the regent of the Kingdom of Spain." Philip II took a few deep breaths to calm his lungs, "until the day when Don Carlos is capable enough to rule the country... If that day never comes, Then find him a suitable wife, give birth to a future heir, and you will teach my future grandson to make him a qualified king of Spain."

Duke Alva was taken aback, "Your Majesty, this may be a bit..."

"Inappropriate?" The king sneered, "There is nothing inappropriate, I am still the king now..."

"If I want to accept this appointment, there are some things that I must explain to Your Majesty in advance." Duke Alva said in a steely and serious tone, "If God really sent a disaster, and I have to bear the responsibility you left If you give me the burden, then I will change many of your policies in the first place... including making peace with enemies at home and abroad at all costs."

"I knew you would," muttered Philip. "So . . . how much are you going to give to the pack of wolves surrounding us?"

"The Britons can get the West Indies and Florida, and Mexico and Central America if they choose, we keep only South America, Portugal gains independence, Duke of Braganza becomes king, protected by Spain, Portugal's All overseas colonies to the Britons."

"We recognize the independence of the North Netherlands, the Protestant-dominated provinces of the South Netherlands can join the newly established Netherlands, and the rights and interests of Catholics in the Netherlands need to be fully protected."

"The Catholic Netherlands is handed over to France, and in return France will recognize our rights in Italy."

"So you are going to abandon the Netherlands to keep Italy?" Philip II murmured, "There seems to be no other good way... What about the Austrians, how can we help our cousins? And The Sultan of Turkey, will he take advantage of the fire?"

"The Austrians are hopeless." Duke Alva said coldly. "We give up Austria in exchange for the neutrality of the Turks in the Mediterranean. This is the only remaining value for the Austrians. Go straight in, as long as they don't enter Italy."

"The Pope will not be pleased."

"Then ask him to deal with the Turks himself." Duke Alva did not hide his contempt. "Maybe God will send a miracle because of the bravery of his good servant."

"The matter has come to this, I have nothing to say, this country is in your hands, try to save her." Philip II sighed, "Now, let's talk about specific things..."

……

The sun was almost setting when Duke Alva walked out of the room.Blood-red sunlight shot into the room from the window, casting a long shadow on the marble floor.

The Duke went downstairs along the stairs he had come from. His pace was fast, and he didn't look back. Naturally, he couldn't see the figure hiding among the pillars in the upstairs corridor.

The duke had just exited the exit downstairs when the shadow immediately moved, passed through the entire Royal Castle, and entered the suite at the other end of the castle, which belonged to Prince Don Carlos.

In contrast to King Philip's room, Prince Don Carlos' room was packed.A group of young nobles were sitting around in the living room, wearing old clothes with obvious provincial characteristics, and the most valuable thing on their body was a saber around their waist.

It's no secret that Prince Don Carlos has a huge entourage.King Philip II responded with blatant contempt for everything the boy had done, and this contempt became the prince's umbrella.Most of his entourage and guards came from noble families in poor provinces, and none of them were the eldest sons, which meant that they had nothing but a horse, a sword and a decent surname.In order to get ahead, they are willing to sell their blood and swords to anyone who is willing to give them wealth and power. Since they always have to find a buyer, is there a more perfect buyer than the crown prince?

The black shadow was one of the princes' personal forces. He nodded towards his companions in the room, and entered the inner room where the crown prince was without notification.

Prince Don Carlos was leaning on a sofa chair, gently sweeping a pot of hydrangeas on the table with a horsewhip in his hand, and the tip of the whip whipped the flower tip, leaving a large pile of broken white petals under the vase.

Seeing the person coming, the prince raised his head, raised his eyebrows, and motioned for the other person to report.

"Duke Alva just left, Your Highness." The young nobleman said respectfully.

"We stayed for almost four hours in total." The prince counted the time and sneered, "My father really trusts him, so trusting that he wants to hand over a country!"

"It seems that His Majesty has already planned to make the Duke of Alva a regent." The young nobleman peeked at the expression of the crown prince from the corner of his eye, "I just don't know the specific content of the regent's edict."

"Regent?" Prince Don Carlos blanched with anger. "I've had enough of this cocky guy riding on my head. Do you remember the way he looked at me? Do you think there was something in that look?" Is there any element of respect?"

"Duke Alva is the commander-in-chief of the army." Although the position is different, the young nobleman still has some respect for Duke Alva. "It is difficult for such a person to be respectful to others. They are used to death, and in the face of death, After all, all people are just mortals.”

"If I can't make him respect me, then at least I have to make him fear me." Prince Don Carlos stood up and waved the horsewhip in his hand. "I want to make him look desperate." Light, at that time, I want to ask him if he regrets not showing me, the legal heir of Spain, a little more respect back then."

"Are you planning to..."

"King Edward of Britain seems to have had a regent when he came to the throne," said Don Carlos with the cruel smile he wore when he threw rabbits and wild cats into the fire and burned them alive. What happened to fate?"

"He was accused of treason and went to the guillotine." The young nobleman whispered, "But King Edward has the Guards in his hands...far more than his enemies can mobilize."

"Don't I have you?" Prince Don Carlos said casually. "I gave you money and promised to give you titles. What do you think this is for?"

"But we only have less than 100 people, and the Flanders Legion has 15 people!"

"The 15 people are in Flanders. Here, the Duke of Alva is the only one." Prince Don Carlos put his hands on the shoulders of the young nobleman, "Caesar has his army, but when he dies No amount of legions could have saved his life when he entered the Senate that day."

"Also, don't forget that the power and titles you and your friends want can only be given by a king...the real king, not the one who is put on the head by a regent." Tang Ka Prince Ross's hissing voice was like a poisonous snake spitting out a message, "Duke Alva has 15 swords, and you don't need the services of these few swords. Only I need you, and only I can give you the corresponding return... Now Answer me, what are you doing with me?"

"If you want, kneel down and kiss my boots." The prince's eyes were filled with unstoppable malice. "The moment your lips touch my shoe uppers, you will be the earl."

The young nobleman's face turned blue and then pale. Suddenly, he knelt on the ground, and his knee hit the floor hard, making a muffled sound like a drum beating.

He sprawled on the ground like a eunuch in an Ottoman court, kissing the prince's moccasin boots.

"I dedicate my life to Your Highness." He raised his head and smiled flatteringly.

Prince Don Carlos raised an eyebrow, "Your Highness?"

"No, no, it's Your Majesty!" The other party reacted immediately and kissed the prince's boots again. "Long live Your Majesty!"

"Go and inform your companion, Mr. Earl." The prince retracted his boots, finally showing a satisfied expression on his face.