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July, 1960 - Madrid, Spain
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"I am to what...?" His Royal Majesty Juan Carlos I felt anything but majestic as he sat timidly in his chair before the oak monolith of a desk Grand Viceroy Delgado occupied. If clothes made the man than the King should have been on the other side of the desk. He wore the latest suit from France and fine Italian shoes. Delgado by comparison wore his simple soldiers uniform that always seemed to make him so much more terrifying.

"To marry." Delgado said patiently as if talking to an idiot. "To a woman, of course." 

"Oh thank goodness I at least get to marry a woman." Carlos snapped irritably. "What the hell makes you think I'll marry anyone you chose for me? You know what, fuck you. I'm already your puppet in all but name but I sure as shit won't be letting you pick my wife." He was angry now and felt good to finally swear at the man who had ruined his life.

Delgado looked at him across the desk for a long moment before leaning forward, his elbows resting on the wood as he steepled his fingers in front of his face. Carlos was immediately reminded of a wolf watching a deer as Delgado's eyes bore into him, the craggy features and several scars reminding Carlos of just how dangerous this man was. It was an unsettling feeling and he instantly regretted his outburst. The warm day suddenly seemed rather cool indeed and he felt a shiver go through him.

"Because, your Majesty, I will kill everyone you have ever cared about if you don't." There was no smile. No tone as he said the words. Just a simple promise. "But never you, your Majesty, never you. You will watch your friends die one by one knowing that you could have saved them."

Carlos opened his mouth to speak but then slumped back into his chair. He knew Delgado meant it. The man was utterly ruthless. A small part of Carlos wanted to launch himself over the desk and strangle his tormentor but knew what a futile gesture that would be. The man hadn't commanded the Cazadores because he was a poor soldier and everyone knew how strenuous his fitness routine was.

"In the end, you should be thanking me." Delgado continued as if the threat hadn't even been uttered. He pulled a small folder from his drawer and placed it on the edge of the desk where Carlos could reach it. "I found you a beautiful wife to continue your family line. More importantly, she comes with the Portuguese Crown."

Carlos looked up sharply at that statement, then down at the manila folder that rested on the edge of the desk. "The Portuguese Royal Family is in name only, worse off even than me. The National Assembly only allowed them to return in the last couple of years. We have never met due to our social situations being so different."

Delgado raised an eyebrow at Carlos. "I am honestly surprised you know any history at all." Carlos wanted to hit him again but swallowed the urge. "As we speak Spanish air and naval assets are inviting Portugal to rejoin Spain as one nation. We will cement this new relationship with the happy marriage of our King to their grieving Princess."

"Wait... What?" Carlos's head was spinning as he tried to digest what he had just heard. "You mean, let me get this right, you mean we're at war with Portugal?"

"As of about fourteen minutes ago, give or take a few minutes." Delgado replied without even glancing at his watch. 

"But... We've been at peace for years. I mean, what, fuck..." Carlos could barely speak. In less than two weeks he had lost his Crown, Spain has almost invaded France, and now they were moving on Portugal. "Fuck." He said the word again.

"Yes, indeed." Delgado replied. He leaned forward again and tapped the envelope. "The Portuguese will not doubt be upset but the Princess Mariana Braganza has become a crowd favourite in the past few years and her marriage to our dear King will go a long way to assuaging Portuguese pride."

Princess Mariana Braganza. Carlos had seen exactly two photos of her, and both of them from when she was in exile with her family, down in Brazil. She had seemed to be a short, plump girl, but to be fair, she had been about seven years younger if he remembered the reports correctly. He was starting to realize just how little he knew about anything in his own country, let alone outside of it.

As if reading his mind, Delgado smiled slightly. "I think you will find being a King under my heel much more work than it was to be an actual King."

For the briefest of moments Carlos wondered if Delgado had a point. As a King, Carlos had showed little to no interest in actually governing. The Royal Council had done that, but always in their own interest. He thrust the thought away with a surge of anger and grumpily yanked the envelope from under Delgado's finger to tear it open. 

The first page was an information sheet on the Princess. Where she had attended school, Harvard in the United States. Where she had grown up, Rio de Janeiro. How old she was, 26, so older than he was by a couple of years. There was a whole host of other items on the page making it clear that Delgado's agents had been hard at work. Carlos actually chuckled when he found the Princesses favourite gelato and colour listed on the page. 

Then he pulled out the second page which turned out to be a photo and his heart almost stopped. The face staring out at him from the paper was not what he had expected. The photo was more or less a head shot, though it showed the swell of the Princesses breasts below a face that seemed to glow with life. She had soft brown eyes framed by shoulder length brown hair that curled beneath her sharp chin on either side, full lips, and high cheek bones. She was possibly the most beautiful woman Carlos had ever seen. 

"This is her?" Carlos looked up in amazement at Delgado. The Viceroy only nodded, a very small sly smile playing the corners of his mouth.

"Does she know?"

"No. But she will by this time tomorrow if the Portuguese surrender, as I suspect they will." Delgado had leaned back in his chair and was watching the King carefully as they spoke.

"What if she says no?" Carlos asked. Again Delgado didn't speak but instead spread his hands slightly, raised both eyebrows and pursed his lips. "Never mind." Carlos said quickly. "I think I'm detecting a pattern in your method of operation."

"I am so glad you're coming to understand how things are done around here now. I will expect you at the military air terminal tomorrow at 07:00 hours. You can keep the picture. Dismissed."

Carlos was still staring at the picture and was so engrossed by the eyes that stared back at him that he didn't even feel anger at being dismissed. He stood and left the room, pushing open the door and stepping into the long hallway that led him outside. Civilians stopped to bow as he passed, soldiers ignored him, and the Cazadores openly despised him, but he saw none of it. 

Behind him, still leaning back in his chair, Delgado was staring vacantly at the wall as his mind continued to race. Keeping the King happy with a pretty wife was one thing but actually forcing Portugal to surrender without a shot being fired was another. He had no doubt they would surrender in the end but he truly wanted to avoid bloodshed.  

He was startled out of his reverie as the red phone on his desk rang loudly, the sound seemingly echoing in the marble office he had claimed inside the Royal Palace of Madrid. He let it ring a second time and then picked up the receiver.  

"Viceroy." He said in a flat tone, hiding the anxiety he felt as his heart pounded in his chest.

"Viceroyal, the German Duke in Malaga is demanding we release him." The voice was that of a Cazadore Lieutenant who was in charge of security at Delgado's chosen home, the Alcazaba in Malaga.

"Oh, yes, of course. I thought we released him days ago."

"We did, Viceroyal, but he has remained behind to wait for his son. The boy Wilhelm who has been with the King." It took Delgado a moment to remember who the German was. He had been a minor distraction in the scheme of things and not important to the moment. 

"Ah, yes. I quite forgot about him. Release Wilhelm. But his girlfriend, Maria, is to remain in Spain. Her father would be most distressed if she were to be out his sight."

"Yes Viceroyal." The line went dead and Delgado replaced the receiver. No sooner had he set it down then the phone rang again. This time he waited for three rings before reaching out to pick up the phone. 

"Viceroy." Delgado kept his tone neutral again but the hammering in his chest was even worse as he did so.

"Viceroyal. Admiral-General Martín Fernández de Navarrete reporting that the Portuguese Navy has surrendered after warning shots were fired. No casualties."

"Very good. Carry on with the operation and secure the port batteries."

"Yes Viceroyal." The line went dead again. The invasion had begun.