The Second Year-End Settlement
I have been spending my time in a flurry of activity, managing the logistics required for the sowing season and verifying our stockpiles of hay and grain. New talent continues to flow into the company, but among them, there was one individual I found rather difficult to handle.
"Your Excellency, the Marquis! Here it is!"
It was Don Juan Gaspar Enríquez, a young man who had come to serve as my personal page upon Teresa’s recommendation. He is the young cousin of my wife, a hidalgo—a nobleman without a title. Since he is sixteen, and I am now twenty-three—having been sixteen myself when I first arrived in Valladolid in 1621—there is a seven-year gap between us.
"Gaspar. Thank you."
"It is nothing!"
The Church, the Sea, or the Royal Household (Iglesia, o Mar, o Casa Real). In the Spain of this era, these were effectively the only three paths open to a young hidalgo of good birth but meager means. If one were a truly low-ranking hidalgo, one might find work in animal husbandry, law, or administration. But for a scion of a great house like the Enríquez family, who might not even have the coin to buy a single linen shirt, there was simply nowhere to work.
He is a lad who still retains a very boyish air. He isn't particularly tall, his frame is slight, and his eyes have a soft, ethereal quality that noblewomen would likely find charming. He is the type of man who wears a constant, gentle smile—a kind-hearted boy. If the Admiral or Teresa feel like lions or tigers, Gaspar feels like a quokka. It is hard to believe they are even from the same family.
At sixteen, he is considered a full-fledged adult, but his appearance and temperament make me feel as though he is still a child in need of protection. But I like that. In the 21st century, wouldn't he just be a high school student? I hope he grows into a sturdy, upright tree rather than being swept away by the storms of this world.
"So. Have you learned much from Advisor Spinola?"
I am trying to expose him to a variety of educational experiences. I have him learning law and finance from Advisor Spinola, accounting from Leonel, and military affairs from the former Commander-in-Chief, Duke Spinola, but he doesn't seem to show any particular talent in any of these areas.
"Heh...."
"Come now, let's put in the effort."
As I ruffled his bright blonde hair, he gave a sheepish laugh, showing a hint of resistance at being treated like a child. I stopped teasing him and read the documents he had brought. They contained news that the personnel sent to develop the northern settlement had established themselves on the Marquis of Aguilar's estate, were clearing land to grow linen, and were building a pilot farm for hop cultivation. It noted that the Marquis of Aguilar was providing full support, so there was no need to worry. Surprisingly, this 'Conqueror' who knew how to write possessed the ability to draft simple, clear reports.
"Gaspar. How is the preparation for the planned Second Granary District coming along?"
"Ah! Mayor Spinola is managing it personally! He is checking the conditions you mentioned and searching for a site that will avoid flood damage!"
As he said this, he handed me one of the documents he was holding; it was a cost estimate submitted by Mayor Spinola.
General Spinola is currently serving as the mayor of the warehouse city. He is surveying the entire area for the road network and canal routes, designing the 'most efficient road and canal system.' He has even devised a plan to use the northern development site as a water source to supply the area with much-needed water through a major agreement with the Marquis of Aguilar.
There is a reason he is called the God of Siege Warfare; his vision for the world is truly on a different level. His profound insight and strategic planning are things a mere farmer like me wouldn't dare to emulate. In truth, using him as a mere mayor feels a bit like having Napoleon serve as a local district office chief.
"Ah! The Mayor asked me to request that you reconsider the installation of the city walls once more!"
"I told him clearly. We don't need a star fort surrounding the entire city. We have neither the money nor the reason for it. If a large-scale enemy army reaches this far into the interior of Castile, the country has already fallen. It is far more certain to use that money to organize even one more security company to maintain order. Let's be satisfied with a stone wall enclosing the warehouses and a moat that doubles as a drainage system."
"Yes, Your Excellency!"
Seeing Gaspar snap to attention at the mention of the military, I spread out a map and pointed to the garrison locations.
"Only at the bridges and road junctions. It is correct to focus on maintaining security and the road network through concentrated defense and tactically placed garrisons. We don't even have the stone to build embankments and warehouses, so what is this talk of city walls? Gaspar, what did I tell you last time?"
"'War is fought with money! Logistics come first!' is what you said."
"You remember well, Gaspar. Come to think of it, you resemble a young master I know who loves the military."
I adjusted Gaspar's eyes with my fingers to give them a more resolute look. When a face I recognized emerged, I realized that bloodlines truly run deep.
"Mi-military? Which young master are you talking about?"
"Ah, well. He has devoted himself to the faith now. I wonder what he's doing these days?"
I ruffled the hair of the confused, cheetah-like Gaspar. He seemed to dislike me touching his hair, as he shook his head and slipped out of my grasp.
"Tell Mayor Spinola exactly what I said. And make sure to tell him that I am absolutely not ignoring his opinion."
"I will convey that to the Mayor, sir!"
Watching Gaspar run off, I get the feeling that 'this is what youth is.' This must also mean that I am growing older.
María Fernanda de la Concepción Enríquez de la Meseta
My daughter with Teresa ended up with a name that carries a solemn weight, much like my wife. The Bishop of the Valladolid Cathedral came to perform the baptism himself, and I barely managed to talk the bald Olivares out of being the godfather. In the end, I settled for having the most prestigious person in my circle, General Spinola, serve as the godfather to forge a spiritual bond.
Anyway, my daughter, who is now five months old, is very cute.
"Aww, Daddy's here~"
"Da-da!"
Enjoying the babbling of the child in my arms and looking at my cute daughter, I realize how fast time flies. When María starts fussing because she's hungry, Teresa opens her bodice to nurse the child.
As I watch that lovely sight, Teresa says firmly.
"Not now."
"Ugh!"
I felt a sharp pang of guilt at Teresa's seemingly disdainful words.
"You must leave the milk for the child."
Because there were maids nearby, Teresa whispered to me very softly. Unlike typical noblewomen, she had been nursing the child herself from the start.
Nobles of this era tend to wean their children quickly to conceive the next one as soon as possible. However, I had asked her if she wouldn't mind nursing for at least a year.
When Enrique's relatives found out that Teresa was nursing herself, they said it 'lowered the dignity of the family,' but she didn't care at all.
Teresa produced as much milk as those fertile hills of hers, and María, drinking it all up, had become a baby with rolls of fat like a Michelin tire.
After nursing, María falls asleep quickly. In Spain, the cradle in which a child sleeps has many religious and customary meanings, created for three purposes: the authority of the family, the protection of the child, and the invocation of heavenly protection.
This cradle, sent by the Marquis of Aguilar, was made from walnut wood grown in the mountains of his estate, Aguilar de Campo.
The frame was crafted from the finest walnut, and the top was intricately carved with figures of guardian angels watching over the child. It was painted with the gold and blue shield representing my family's symbol—the golden wheat fields and the blue sky—along with three stalks of wheat. The phrase under the crest read, "PANIS ET ORDO"—Bread and Order. The Aguilar family crest was also engraved, symbolizing the bond between the two houses.
I laid the sleeping child down and left her in the care of an elderly maid. Afterward, I went to the living room with Teresa, and she said,
"Marital relations contaminate breast milk and will eventually make the child sick. Please, bear with it a little longer. I am bearing with it as well."
I wondered if this was really true, but at the mention that it could have a negative effect on the child, I decided to endure it for now.
"About six months left."
"I can feel your anticipation, Juan."
She said this while touching my cheek. I revealed the truth in response to her words and took her finger into my mouth. Feeling the slightly salty taste on my tongue and the scent of milk entering through my nose, I teased her finger with the tip of my tongue.
"I always find myself anticipating when I look at my woman, don't I?"
As I spoke to Teresa, I teased her soft white skin with my fingers, and she grabbed my hand and said,
"Do you not know that I, too, am always anticipating whenever I look at my man?"
"Please, bear with the hunt for a little while, Teresa."
Her eyes turned like a lion's, so I took my leave.
December. The cold winter arrived, and the season for slaughtering pigs and making processed meat products returned. I headed to Madrid from the beginning of December to be home before Christmas.
"Lope. If you have a cold, why don't you rest in a village and return with us later?"
Unlike last year, I was heading to Madrid leading an armed escort, including Lope, on horseback. However, Lope, who was in charge of close protection, did not look well at all.
"No! I am not! A Basque man does not just collapse because it is a little cold!"
"I'm saying this because you look like you're about to collapse, Lope."
He really looked in bad shape, and I wanted to let him rest.
"I, Lope! On the honor of a Basque man, absolutely not!"
-Thump.
"Lope! Lope!"
I hired someone to have him stay in a village and nurse him back to health. When I gave them a grain storage certificate, they accepted it with joy. Even here in Arévalo, exactly halfway between Madrid and Valladolid, the grain storage certificates from my warehouse were in circulation.
December 8th, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception (Inmaculada Concepción). The 'Concepción' that is in my daughter's name also comes from here.
The Empire is a country that is earnest about the doctrine that 'the Virgin Mary was conceived without original sin.' Pressuring the Pope to recognize this as an official dogma was an annual event, and riots caused by debates over this doctrine were roughly the 'XXXth Debating Riot' in history.
"That bastard! Look! What did that wretch who deserves to be torn limb from limb say!? That the Holy Mother had original sin? All you pious citizens of Valladolid, come out! Is this! Is this even a sensible thing to say?"
Even in Valladolid, where I have influence, a riot broke out among outraged citizens after a Dominican friar preached that 'the Holy Mother had original sin.' It wouldn't calm down at all, so I eventually had to step in to settle it.
On top of this, King Felipe certified it, saying, "This is correct. This doctrine is the official protective dogma of the Spanish Empire." Thus, the religion, the King, and the people formed a trinity. I heard from Felipe that it was just to turn public sentiment, but from where I stood, it looked like Felipe was doing it because he liked it.
Anyway, having this in a name means, "Our family is extremely pious and is a sincerely loyal noble house that actively participates in the King's policies." It means something like that. I didn't particularly want to do this, but since the times are as they are, what could I do? In the 21st century, giving a name like 'Byeon Ssang-seop,' 'Kwae Heung-tae,' or 'Hwang Geun-chul' would be abuse, but in this age of romance, those are masculine and cool names.
December 8th, my second year-end settlement. At this gathering, which is now more appropriately called a 'shareholders' meeting,' are Felipe, Olivares, Admiral Enríquez, Marshal Velasco, and an old man representing the Genoese financial circles.
Dressed in a flashy yet restrained black velvet outfit, he is slowly reading the documents with magnifying glasses that he only uses when reviewing papers.
The wizard of accounting. The magician of credit. The king of finance. The one who puts a price on every right in this world.
He is none other than the head of the Pallavicino family, one of the four great Genoese financial families and the official financier to the Royal Household, Nicolò Pallavicino.
Author's Note
Thank you to nizoo and sesangui-saengmul for the donations. If you do this, I really can't stop! 'Not one, not two, not three.' I'm going for a 4-chapter release.
The new character Don Juan Gaspar Enríquez is not a real historical figure.