After the deep talk with Karl, Francisco went back and apologized to Inez. Though he did it a bit unwillingly, he knew she wasn't truly a villain. He was still upset about her threat, but in the end, reason prevailed.

A few days later Francisco entered college. For his first semester, he decided to take Higher Algebra and Analytical Geometry under Professor Abraham Gotthelf Kästner, Logic and Critique of Knowledge under Christoph Meiners, and Introduction to History under August Ludwig von Schlözer. Francisco had to find each professor and pay them directly for the right to attend their lectures. For him, learning mathematics and some history was a good first step toward improving his hometown—though, clearly, he hadn't thought things through very well. Five classes were absolutely titanic at the time, not only because of the cost but because the professors expected the very best from their students. This meant constant hard work.

Francisco's days quickly became limited to studying, completing the professors' personal assignments in the library, and going home to sleep. As a consequence, Catalina became somewhat overwhelmed as well. She had to deal with the creation of new industries in Hanover and, at the same time, look after the sick in the training camp Krugger had left behind. This forced the group to hire more medical specialists; otherwise Catalina wouldn't be able to keep running back and forth between Göttingen, the Harz region, and Hameln.

During this time, Director Christian's opinion of Catalina grew considerably. Seeing her work so hard everywhere, while also demonstrating her expertise in managing factories, convinced him she deserved more. He even wanted her to take a course in Statistics and Cameral Sciences. But this was opposed by Professor August Ludwig von Schlözer, who believed women should only be educated in domestic affairs and culture, not in hard subjects. Christian argued constantly with him, but without success, leaving poor Catalina helpless.

Another important event during this period was the first major battle between the French Republic and the Spanish Empire at Ceret. General Antonio Ricardos crossed the border and launched a swift offensive, defeating the French and pushing them out of Roussillon. Though not a massive battle, it was significant. Spain secured an important strategic position, raising Spanish confidence while lowering the morale of those who wanted to declare independence in New Granada.

This put enormous pressure on Carlos, who was at the center of the brewing conflict. After all, it was almost an open secret that the Gómez family was preparing to declare independence.

Deep inside the Gómez estate, in the middle of May, Carlos—his mood low—threw some decorations against the wall, his expression furious. His aide, standing behind him, remained silent. The tension in the mansion was so high that even the servants were frightened after hearing about the Spanish victory. Many feared that by tomorrow the mainland would send troops to besiege the Gómez estate and kill them all. If not for the good treatment Carlos had always given them—and the growing influence of the Gómez family in Antioquia thanks to the schools and industries they had built—the local barracks would probably have already sent soldiers, and the citizens would simply look the other way.

"What did Francisco say about the German troops?" Carlos asked.

The aide replied solemnly, "They left Germany in April, so they should reach the gulf between June and July—assuming no problems occur on the ocean."

Carlos nodded, slightly more relaxed. "We need to hire more men. The viceroy's troops must be kept in check. With how this war is developing, Spain may gain more victories. If the excitement in those barracks grows too much, they might attack us."

The aide hesitated. "But… they have no evidence of what you're planning, sir. It shouldn't be easy for them to kill you, right?"

Carlos frowned. "I'm not sure. But the viceroy's suspicions have grown steadily. And now that we've spoken with so many leaders, it wouldn't be hard for someone to twist the truth—or outright lie—to gain a pardon or win favor. Ironically, those who were the most enthusiastic about a new nation are the ones most likely to betray us."

He tossed a document toward the butler. When the butler read it, he froze in shock.

"These blueprints… they look like a warehouse. And judging by the size, probably a royal one. Why do you have these, sir? You're not planning to attack a royal warehouse, are you?"

The aide felt genuine fear. Up until now, his master was simply a man with dangerous ideas. In the worst case, the family could be expelled from New Granada and lose their fortune. But attacking a Spanish installation would be a different level entirely—a capital crime that could doom the entire Gómez family. He had to convince Carlos not to do anything reckless.

Seeing his old friend's expression, Carlos shook his head. "Relax. I'm not planning to attack the warehouse. These blueprints were recovered by a spy sent by our 'allies.' According to them, he died during the mission… though three women came later and told me a different version of events."

The aide's frown deepened. "Did they kill him?"

Carlos shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it's the most likely scenario. If he truly died while obtaining these blueprints, they shouldn't have ended up in the hands of so many families. What worries me is that despite having them for at least a month, no one has done anything with them. Everyone is silent—acting as if they know nothing. That means their desire is fading, or their fear outweighs their ambition. And that is dangerous for us. We must avoid a situation where we become isolated."

The aide nodded seriously before speaking. "We should keep a low profile for now. Once the German troops and General Krugger arrive, we'll finally be able to defend ourselves from the Spanish Empire. And who knows—this war may still take a different turn for Spain."

Carlos nodded and let out a tired sigh. "I hope so… Do you know how Grandma María is doing? Last I heard, she was in pain."

The aide smiled. "Don't worry. Ogundele and your little girl, Isabella, have been with her all this time. She seems to recover faster whenever Isabella is around."

Carlos chuckled. "Who would have thought my little girl would grow so much, especially after a year without her big brother…"Remembering Francisco's absence, his expression dimmed. His aide, seeing this, gently added:

"That's why you're fighting, isn't it, sir? So you can welcome your son back to a place that's safe for him."

Carlos's mood brightened slightly, and he smiled. "You're right. I must not forget that the viceroy almost killed my son. And if Francisco returns with all the knowledge he's gaining in Hanover, the Empire may take an even more radical stance against him. How are the factory profits?"

The aide's smile widened. "Very good, sir. Thanks to your father, the profits continue to grow. Though… there is something that worries me."

Carlos frowned. "Did something happen in the Lerma household?"Though Carlos had chosen his own path because he never got along with the Lerma family, he still cared. After all, the Duke was his father—and the one who had at least taken responsibility for his education.

The aide hesitated. "There are two things. First, the Duke is ill—bedridden. It seems he might not have much time left."

Carlos lowered his eyes but remained silent.

"But the second issue," the aide continued, "is far more concerning. Some Iberians have been lobbying the viceroy to move your factories to Spain."

Carlos's expression hardened. "Do you think it's my brother?"

The aide shrugged. "I'm not sure, sir. But it does look like your family is preparing to sever ties with you. Right now, what's stopping them is your grandfather… and the factories themselves. They don't have good alternatives yet. But with the money they've already made, it's not impossible for them to stop buying from us entirely. They almost have a monopoly over the alcohol market in Spain now."

Carlos mumbled with clear dissatisfaction, "My dear brother… it seems you truly intend to cut ties with me the moment the old man dies. I wonder how he would react if he knew."Then, suddenly, his eyes lit up. "That's it. There is a way to keep the viceroy from watching us."

The aide leaned forward, curious. "You have a plan, sir?"

Carlos nodded. "We'll wait until Francisco's grandfather arrives in New Granada. Once he's here, I'll travel to Spain—publicly—as a son wishing to see his dying father one last time. That alone will lower the viceroy's suspicions. After all, if I'm away from the colonies, it will seem impossible for us to be plotting anything."

The aide considered it, then nodded firmly. "Very well, sir. I'll begin preparations for the journey."

He bowed slightly and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Carlos exhaled deeply, the weight on his chest refusing to lift. The pressure from the viceroy, the uncertainty in Spain, the fragile alliances within New Granada—none of it made breathing easy. But at least, for now, he had a plan.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.