Chapter 243: A Daughter’s Company

Seeing her expression, Carlos sighed.

“It is a little more complicated than that,” he said gently.

He thought for a moment, then suddenly his eyes lit up with an idea.

“Let me ask you something,” he continued. “If I were living in Europe, and I became very ill—almost at death’s door—and you heard about it… would you stay away just because there was some risk in traveling to see me?”

Isabella thought seriously for a moment before answering.

“Of course not,” she said confidently.

Then she tilted her head.

“But… that means your father treated you as well as you treated me when you were little, right?”

Krugger almost burst out laughing.

He quickly turned his head, trying to hide his reaction. Though he did not know exactly how the old duke had treated Carlos, he had seen enough of Carlos’s life in New Granada to understand the truth.

The duke had not treated him like a son.

More like a useful subordinate.

Carlos’s face darkened when he heard Isabella’s question.

He had not expected his daughter to be sharp enough to strike him exactly where it hurt the most.

Seeing Krugger struggling to suppress his laughter only made his expression darker.

Finally, Carlos sighed and gently placed his hand on Isabella’s hair.

“Forget about it,” he said softly. “Come. Let’s spend some time together.”

He forced a faint smile.

“I have decided to take the afternoon off.”

Isabella nodded happily, not fully understanding why her words had caused such a reaction. She simply grabbed Carlos’s hand with excitement.

Before leaving, Carlos looked back at Krugger.

“I am going to take a walk,” he said. “I heard your conversation.”

Krugger raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Send a letter to Francisco. I want to know what is happening in Spain. Ask him if traveling there would be realistic right now.”

Carlos paused for a moment before continuing.

“If not… ask him to go in my place.”

He looked thoughtful.

“If my father truly has softened because of illness, then a grandson might be enough.”

Then his tone became more serious.

“But tell him to be careful. I do not want him falling into any trap from my brother or my father.”

He frowned slightly.

“My brother’s reputation is not bad… but he is still the future duke. The manipulation tactics our father taught him were more than enough to make him dangerous.”

With that, Carlos began walking toward the exit of the mansion with Isabella.

Around them, several bureaucrats moved through the corridors carrying papers. Others stood in small groups, discussing matters of administration and trade.

Krugger watched Carlos’s back as he left and sighed with quiet relief.

Carlos had made a decision—but Krugger was not entirely sure it was the right one.

Asking Francisco was only a way to reduce the guilt in his heart.

Just like Krugger himself, who still carried the weight of losing his wife and daughter because of his work, Carlos had his own unresolved conflict with his father.

Krugger shook his head slowly.

Perhaps the old duke had seen that conflict long ago.

Perhaps that was why he had treated his bastard son relatively well compared to how other noble houses treated theirs.

Outside, the air felt incredibly fresh.

Verdant trees covered the hills, and the mountains in the distance formed a beautiful landscape—something worthy of a painting.

“Come,” Carlos said. “Let’s eat first, and then we can walk toward the river.”

He looked toward the valley.

“I want to see for myself if the river is becoming as polluted as people claim.”

He had heard many complaints in Medellín about the factories and how they were affecting the water.

Soon they found a small tavern and sat down to eat.

The owner immediately recognized Carlos and greeted him warmly. Carlos was a regular customer and always paid fairly, which made the tavern owner happy to see him.

“Señor Carlos!” the man said with a smile. “Here to eat again?”

Then he looked curiously at the young girl beside him.

“And this must be the daughter you talk about all the time.”

He smiled warmly at Isabella.

Carlos chuckled.

“That’s right,” he said to the tavern owner. “But don’t praise her too much, or she will become arrogant.”

Isabella rolled her eyes immediately.

“I’m not arrogant,” she replied proudly. “I’m exceptional. Grandfather Krugger says so.”

Carlos laughed and shook his head.

Knowing that Isabella had been training with the soldiers, he still found it hard to understand how someone who behaved so spoiled at times could endure Krugger’s brutal training.

Part of him wondered if Krugger was simply being soft on her because she was his granddaughter.

Of course, if Isabella could hear his thoughts, she would be furious.

Krugger treated her even harsher than the soldiers.

Her training was more demanding—and on top of that, she was expected to study as well.

The tavern owner wiped his hands on a stained apron and leaned slightly over the wooden counter.

“Today we have a rich Olla de Montserrat,” he announced proudly, referring to a thick sancocho made with hen and salted beef. “The broth is heavy with yuca and green plantains.”

He continued enthusiastically.

“We also received some fresh tasajo this morning from the valley. It comes with maize arepas and beans slow-cooked in pork fat.”

Then he glanced at Isabella, who was sitting with her back straighter than many of the soldiers in the room.

“And for the exceptional young lady,” he added with a grin, “I have some mazamorra cooling in the back, with plenty of guava jelly and fresh milk.”

Carlos nodded, though the letter in his pocket weighed on his mind—a sharp contrast to the warm simplicity of the tavern.

“The Olla for both of us,” he said.

“And bring some chocolate for the girl. The dark, bitter kind from the south.”

He smirked slightly.

“She says that since she’s training like a soldier, she should eat like one. Sometimes she even pretends to enjoy it.”

Isabella pouted.

“I really do like dark chocolate.”

Carlos shook his head with a faint smile.

While waiting for their lunch, a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

Amelia.

He took a breath and looked at Isabella.

“Can we talk about Amelia?”

Isabella’s eyebrows twitched slightly at the mention of her name.

Seeing the serious expression on Carlos’s face, she sighed and straightened her posture.

“I knew we were going to talk about it,” she admitted.

Then, like a small soldier reporting to a superior officer, she folded her arms and looked at him seriously.

Carlos could not help but chuckle at the sight.

He found it oddly amusing.

After a moment, he took a deep breath and spoke carefully.

“I’m in a relationship with Amelia,” he said. “And we have been thinking about making it more official.”

He paused before continuing.

“But we both understand something important.”

He looked directly at Isabella.

“That can only happen with the approval of our children.”

His voice softened.

“She wants to become part of this family—not a burden or an intrusion.”

Isabella remained silent for a moment.

Then she hesitated before speaking.

“I already know about your relationship with her.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow.

Although he had suspected that might be the case, he had always wondered how she had found out.

After all, he and Amelia had tried to be discreet.

“How did you know?” he asked curiously. “We thought we were being careful.”

Isabella chuckled.

“For someone who tries to be so discreet,” she said teasingly, “you and Amelia spend a lot of nights in each other’s bedrooms.”

Carlos immediately stiffened.

“And sometimes you’re even bold enough to do it while staying here in the estate,” she continued casually.

She shrugged.

“Of course, when I heard the servants talking about it, I wanted to see if it was true. So one night I hid behind the plants outside your room.”

Carlos slowly turned his head toward her.

“And?” he asked cautiously.

“And I saw you sneaking out,” Isabella said with a grin. “Just like when Francisco used to sneak around in Bogotá and tried not to let you see him.”

Carlos’s face turned completely red.

All this time he had believed he was being careful… yet his own daughter had been watching him.

“Still,” Isabella continued, “the real culprits are the servants.”

She leaned back slightly in her chair.

“Grandma María always said there is nothing more frightening than the tongue of a servant. She told me that if I ever wanted to know what was really happening in the house, I should listen to them.”

She smiled faintly.

“They know everything that happens in the estate.”

“They were the first ones to tell me about you and Amelia.”

Carlos cursed his servants silently in his mind for their loose tongues. For a brief moment he even considered punishing them by cutting their wages.

But then he sighed in resignation.

If he dared to do that, tomorrow even the color of his underwear might become public gossip.

He shook his head and tried to move past the embarrassment.

Then he looked at Isabella again, his expression becoming more serious.

“I heard some of the words you said to Amelia,” he said carefully. “Back when I was wounded and resting in bed.”

Isabella glanced around nervously, a hint of guilt appearing on her face.

Carlos noticed and spoke softly.

“I’m not asking because I want to punish you,” he said. “And I would never do that.”

He paused.

“It’s normal for you to have complicated feelings about this.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“This is just a conversation between us… heart to heart.”

“So we can move forward as a family.”

Isabella looked into her father’s eyes for a moment.

Then she slowly nodded.

Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for the conversation that was about to follow.

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