PREVIOUSLY.
["It is immense, Margaret," I replied, feeling pride swell in my chest. "It is much larger than London. But do not picture what you already know. There, you will not find castles of gray stone, nor narrow streets cloaked in mud and shadows."
I pointed toward the thicket before us, envisioning the golden domes and crystalline canals that awaited us miles inland.
"Our Central City is woven into nature itself. It is a sea of brilliant green, of pristine aqueducts, of gardens that bloom year-round, and buildings that capture the sunlight... It is a breathing city."
Margaret's large green eyes lit up with a gleam of pure fascination, reflecting the sun's sparkle upon the water, as the warm wind pushed us toward our destiny.]
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Just over 3 months later.
Year 14 of the SuaChie Calendar, Third Month (May 1496).
Dawn City (Santiago de Cuba, Cuba), Caribá Region (FRFI).
Chuta's Office, Stone Manor.
The mid-afternoon sun filtered through the vast windows of my office in Stone Manor, bathing my oak desk in a warm, golden light. I leaned back in my heavy chair, rubbing my tired eyes after hours of reviewing reports, and let the constant, rhythmic murmur of Dawn City soothe me for a moment.
It had been just over three months since that day on the ship when I told the young Princess Margaret about our majestic Central City. Three months since her large green eyes marveled at the immensity of our emerald metropolis.
That week, in which we merged the kingdom's colossal New Year's festival with the celebration of my own birthday, had etched itself into my memory as a whirlwind of lights, drumbeats, and banquets that seemed to have no end.
Central City was not merely an architectural jewel or an urban experiment; for everyone in the kingdom, it already pulsed with the strength, order, and majesty of our true capital.
And yet, amidst all the pomp and splendor of those festivities, my mind continually drifted back to a triumph that was far more personal, simple, and profoundly nostalgic.
The pizza.
Gods, how long I had waited for that moment. Ever since I awoke in this era, the memory of a good slice of pizza, with its steaming, stringy cheese, had tormented me in silence. But it was not until the arrival of the first great shipment of European goods in Year 11 that I finally held the pieces of the puzzle in my hands: high-quality wheat and authentic cheese.
Before departing for England to fetch Margaret, I had met in secret with my finest cooks and assistants. I left them with meticulous instructions, diagrams of stone ovens, and exact proportions for the dough and sauce.
My directive was clear: I wanted hundreds of perfect pizzas for my family's private banquet, and thousands more baking tirelessly for the public in the squares of Central City.
It was a resounding success, a milestone that surpassed all my expectations.
I could still smile recalling the scene in the main hall: my wives laughing as they tried to eat without staining their silk dresses with the red sauce, and little Margaret, her cheeks smeared with flour and tomato, devouring her slice with an enthusiasm that shattered any English royal protocol... It captivated them all.
But the true impact happened on the streets.
The explosion of flavor, the texture of the baked dough, and the richness of the melted cheese drove the citizens wild. For weeks, the people crowded the commercial streets and besieged the cooks at the Hearths of Za, demanding to know how to acquire that "red bread with curdled milk."
The news they received, of course, was like a bucket of cold water: refined wheat flour and cheese were European products that were only just beginning to trickle into our ports, or which our own agricultural and livestock industries were only now attempting to replicate. The scarcity was undeniable, but the product existed.
That revelation unleashed two socioeconomic waves that, honestly, I never saw coming when I penned the recipe.
I glanced at the customs reports piled on my desk.
The first wave was commerce. Thousands of citizens, driven by the desire to taste the pizza once more, had begun to actively trade and seek more lucrative jobs along the river route between the Suaza River and Dawn City.
They were saving, feverishly accumulating capital just to be able to purchase wheat flour and cheese in the official markets or directly from imports. A simple recipe had stimulated the economic flow of the entire central region.
The second wave was cultural. Suddenly, good food had ceased to be mere sustenance, becoming a status symbol, a life goal. The people were beginning to view gastronomy as a formal and highly profitable enterprise.
Dozens of entrepreneurs were opening small establishments, attempting to imitate my techniques or perfect local dishes. We were witnessing the birth of a true Suaza culinary industry.
Just thinking about the crunch of the crust and the aroma of oregano and basil made my stomach let out a dull growl. Hunger ambushed me all at once. I reached for the small bronze bell on my desk, ready to ask the manor's kitchens to prepare something quick.
Before my fingers could even brush the metal, the heavy oak door to my office flew open, bouncing against the wall.
Umza burst into the room, taking small, energetic leaps that made the jewels on her wrists jingle. Her energy was boundless, instantly brightening the somber office.
"Chuta!" she exclaimed; a radiant smile drawn across her face.
I dropped my hand and looked at her, raising an eyebrow in a gesture of feigned severity.
"Umza, my love," I scolded her affectionately, crossing my arms. "What have we said about knocking before entering? I could be in a State meeting... or worse, sleeping."
As was to be expected, Umza couldn't have cared less about my meager attempt at authority. She ignored my reprimand with a melodic giggle, rounded the desk, and pressed herself against me, wrapping her arms around my neck. Her perfume, a blend of island flowers and spices, enveloped me instantly.
"You never sleep when the sun is up, liar," she whispered, bringing her face close to mine with a comforting familiarity. "Besides, I bring news. Zasaba has done his part. He has gathered all the key and inner members of the Suaza Chamber of Commerce. They are waiting for you in the boardroom."
I sighed, forgetting about the pizza for the moment. The machinery of the kingdom never rested, and that commercial meeting was vital for structuring the new import policies.
I nodded, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek before gently pulling away. "Understood. Tell them I'll be down in a minute. Go on ahead."
Umza released her embrace slowly, trailing her hands down my shoulders. Before crossing the threshold of the door, she spun on her heels. She shot me a deep look, laden with a mischievous coquetry that promised to continue our conversation in a much more private setting come nightfall.
"Don't take too long, Great Leader," she purred, and with one last graceful turn, she vanished down the hallway, closing the door behind her and leaving me alone with my reports and my thoughts.
The soft click of the door closing returned me to the stillness of my office, but Umza's scent of flowers and spices lingered in the air, thick and intoxicating. I stared at the empty threshold for a long moment, feeling the warmth of her embrace still tingling on my shoulders.
Once again, I found myself trapped in that mental crossroads that tormented me in silence. My romantic relationships. My betrothed. My wives.
For the most part, I saw them exactly as they were: the women with whom I shared my life, my burdens, and my kingdom. But there was a small part of my mind—a persistent echo of my former life—that couldn't help but see them as young girls.
It was an absurd and contradictory duality, especially considering that, in this life, I was already fourteen years old, and my role as Great Leader demanded I leave any modern modesty behind.
Already last year I had begun to elevate the level of intimacy with Turey, consolidating our marriage.
However, Turey had always been a docile and timid spirit in such matters; her advances were rarely born of her own initiative, but rather she acted under the meticulous guidance of my mother, or spurred by the constant whispers and advice of her "sisters" in betrothal, Nyia and, above all, Umza.
Umza was a hurricane of a very different nature. The moment she turned sixteen, right after the festivities of the 14th New Year, the dynamic had shifted drastically.
Without a shred of shame and with a determination that left me speechless, Umza had practically dragged me into the bedchamber one night.
Her justification, delivered with a mix of feigned innocence and fierce pragmatism, still echoed in my head: "We have to help the kingdom with our children, Chuta. It is our duty."
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks just remembering it. I shook my head vigorously, casting those thoughts from my mind. It was not the time to lose myself in the labyrinths of matrimony. The kingdom was waiting.
I picked up the thick stack of leather and paper documents I had prepared on my oak desk, aligning them with a couple of sharp taps against the wood. I smoothed out my formal tunic and stepped out of my office.
I walked down the broad corridors of Stone Manor. The sound of my sandals rebounded against the finely carved stone walls, while the sunlight filtered through the tall windows, painting golden rectangles across the polished floor.
Upon arriving before the double mahogany doors of the meeting hall, a pair of guards nodded in silence and opened them for me.
The room smelled of beeswax, fresh ink, and dyed cloth.
Around the immense circular table, the most influential members of the Suaza Chamber of Commerce were already gathered. Seeing me enter, the murmur of their conversations ceased immediately. Everyone, without exception, stood in a synchronized movement and offered me a respectful bow.
I raised a hand, halting the formality before it could prolong itself too much.
"Enough. Take your seats, please," I instructed, gesturing toward their high-backed chairs as I walked to the head of the table.
Once I sat down and arranged my documents in front of me, I swept my gaze over the faces of the merchants and ministers. I greeted them all with an affable gesture, but I hardened the tone of my voice to make the importance of the session clear.
"I hope you have all enjoyed the festivities, but the rest is over," I began, cutting straight to the point. "We are here to discuss this Chamber's participation in our expeditions to the west, beyond the Sunset Ocean."
I unrolled a map across the table, pointing out the naval routes that connected our coasts.
"As you all know, at the end of Year 13, our first solo expedition arrived victorious on the shores of Sunset Edge City. And more importantly: immense volumes of foreign goods have already crossed our territory through the roads and canals of the Suaza Isthmus, ultimately flooding the waters of the Caribá Sea."
One of the veteran members of the Chamber, a man with a weathered face and dark silk garments, leaned forward.
"It is true, Great Leader. We have seen the cargo manifests," he intervened, his tone analytical. "They have brought invaluable pieces of art, books in incomprehensible languages, rolls of that soft fabric they call silk, ceramics of the finest porcelain, and, of course, seeds of exotic crops, including the highly sought-after rice."
I nodded in agreement, as Chesua, seated to my right, raised a hand to supplement the information.
"And let us not forget the solid weight, gentlemen," Chesua added in a gravelly voice. "Commander Bachuaga also brought back gold. Quite a lot of it, in fact."
I nodded again, resting my elbows on the table.
"Exactly. But listen closely: all that massive cargo is only what half the expedition brought back. The other part of the fleet should be docking in Sunset Edge City this very month, or the next at the latest."
I took a strategic pause, letting the scale of the operation settle in their minds before dropping the real news.
"And we haven't stopped there. The second solo expedition already set sail in the eighth month of last year. The third expedition left the docks of Sunset Edge City at the beginning of this year. And I have scheduled a fourth expedition to set sail next month, in the fourth month."
The silence that followed my words was absolute, but the body language of those present spoke volumes. They looked at one another, eyes wide and brows furrowed. They were genuinely surprised, yes, but also unsettled. The frequency with which I was sending ships into the unknown bewildered them.
I knew exactly what they were thinking.
Even though everyone knew that from the second solo expedition onward we only sent a maximum of two ships per voyage to reduce costs, they were still journeys of brutal risk.
In the eyes of the Chamber's pragmatic merchants, crossing the largest ocean in the world to bring back old books, rare animals, and exotic crops was a whim of mine; a colossal effort with very little real merit for an already prosperous kingdom.
I had already noticed it before, in private conversations in the corridors, and I was seeing it right now.
The reaction to the gold Chesua had mentioned? Null. Absolutely apathetic.
In our kingdom, gold already flowed in abundance, and the obsession with it was not the same as the one the Europeans suffered from. For them, risking ships, men, and capital to bring back things they considered simple cultural curiosities did not justify the frenetic pace of the voyages.
I leaned back in my chair, interlacing my fingers over my stomach, and looked at them one by one, letting my authority fill the empty space the silence had left behind.
"I see the doubt on your faces, gentlemen. And I see your lack of interest in the gold and the silk," I told them, my voice adopting a deep, almost prophetic tone. "You believe these voyages are a mere whim of your leader to collect art and plants from distant lands. But you are mistaken. The trade with these western kingdoms and the routes we are establishing will grant us far more power and influence than any of you can possibly imagine."
I let the echo of my words settle in the dense air of the room. I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the polished table, and shifted my tone to one much more grounded and conversational.
"Let us do an exercise in imagination," I proposed, breaking the tension in the room. "Think about what has happened these past few months in Central City and Dawn City. Think about the pizza."
A couple of merchants blinked, thrown off by the sudden change of topic, but I saw several nodding slowly; some even offered a knowing smile. I knew that the majority of those present in this room had not only tasted it, but likely had their personal cooks trying to replicate it in their own manors.
"That simple dish," I continued, raising a finger, "made with wheat, cheese, and local produce, has unleashed a commercial fever along the Suaza River. It has forged new routes, it has driven hundreds of citizens to seek better jobs to afford those ingredients, and it has spawned dozens of new businesses. All of that, for a single product that we are only just learning to cultivate and mass-produce."
I swept my gaze across the table. I now had their full attention.
"Now, apply that same logic on a global scale. Think about the scarce oriental spices: pepper, cinnamon, cloves. Until now, they reached us in miserable quantities and at exorbitant prices via European ships, after passing through countless middlemen. But now, thanks to our western expeditions, those same spices, along with fine silks and porcelains that the kings of Europe would kill to have, will arrive in massive quantities directly to our shores. If a little cheese and wheat sparked a revolution in our local market... I ask you to imagine what will happen when we flood the kingdom with the treasures of the East."
The shift in the room was almost palpable. The skepticism that had clouded their faces moments before evaporated, replaced by an unmistakable gleam. I could see the ambition burning in their eyes. The minds of those men, calculating and swift, were already tallying figures, picturing fleets of ships loaded to the brim and incalculable commercial monopolies.
"As for the gold..." I added, downplaying it with a wave of my hand. "We know we don't need it for our own survival. We extract it from our mines or obtain it through the lucrative trade with Guanza Quyca. However, to the Europeans, gold is God. And we will use it as a tool. That gold our expeditions bring back will serve to drain Europe of its finest products: their technology, their tools, and, above all, their invaluable draft animals that we so desperately need to expand our agriculture and logistics."
The veteran in dark silk robes, who had earlier mentioned the manifests, cleared his throat. Caution still marked his posture.
"Your vision is undeniable, Great Leader," he conceded, frowning. "But if you will permit my insolence... why the urgency? Why quicken the pace so drastically and send so many fleets right now, assuming such massive risks?"
I offered a cold smile. It was the exact question I needed them to ask.
"Because time is running against us," I replied, my voice laden with a severity that made the room fall silent once more. "I foresee that the balance in this destination we've just secured—the West, which to the Europeans is the Far East—is going to change drastically in a couple of years."
"Are you referring to the Europeans?" the same member inquired, his eyes narrowing.
I nodded gravely, sliding my fingers over the edge of the still-unrolled map.
"Our navy has been keeping watch. We have noticed continuous advancements of European ships sailing south across the Dawn Ocean. Specifically, they are heading east, skirting the south of Guanza Quyca. They are searching for their own route."
Chesua, at my side, tensed. His strategic mind, always sharpened for military and logistical matters, grasped the implication immediately. He turned to me with an expression of genuine alarm.
"Great Leader... do you mean that if they manage to round the south of Guanza Quyca, they could reach the same place through that route? Could they reach Xiefiba Quyca before we dominate the trade?"
"I have yet to confirm it with my own eyes," I admitted, maintaining my composure, "but that is exactly what Captain Sogeking presumes after analyzing the currents and the stellar maps from his latest voyages."
The room plunged into a thick, suffocating silence. The mere thought that the European kingdoms, with their insatiable thirst for conquest and aggressive tactics, could reach the same source of wealth was a direct threat to the prosperity of the Suaza kingdom. Ambition suddenly merged with a sense of urgency and survival.
Chesua broke the silence, tapping his knuckles lightly against the table.
"Then, how can the Chamber help in all this? What do you need us to do?"
I relaxed a little in my chair, satisfied to have led them exactly to the point I wanted.
"I could order the crown and the central government to finance and control every ship, every route, and every ounce of spice that crosses the ocean. The kingdom has the resources to do it on its own," I told them, looking them straight in the eye. "But you know me. You know I despise managing every aspect of trade, because every discovery, every new frontier, belongs to the people and the gods, not solely to me."
Hearing this, several of the members nodded in profound understanding.
Since the founding of the kingdom, I had granted them unprecedented commercial freedom, supporting private enterprise so that development would not depend solely on state bureaucracy. That same freedom had made them immensely wealthy and loyal.
I stood up slowly and began to roll up the large leather map, sealing the conversation. The rough scrape of the material filled the silence of the room.
"Remember this before returning to your offices," I said, tying the map's cord firmly. "The Europeans, primarily the English, will continue to use the Suaza Isthmus, and the preferential treatment the kingdom offered them in the past still stands... You will have competition. What this Chamber achieves commercially, the fleets you build, and the alliances you forge with the West... depend entirely on you. The door is open, gentlemen. You had best walk through it before others shut it."
I tucked the map under my arm, bowed my head slightly in farewell, and, without waiting for another word, turned on my heel and left the hall, leaving behind a dozen of the most powerful men in the kingdom with the fire of urgency burning in their chests.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
Thank you all for your support.
First, I have to be honest, imagining Chuta at 14 speaking so romantically makes me laugh, but that's because I picture him as a teenager today.
Second, I was researching the expeditions launched by Spain, Portugal, and England, and I realized that the timeframes were much longer, I mean the periods between expeditions or periods of preparation.
However, I should clarify that I'm talking about exploration expeditions, not necessarily the commercial voyages that took place after the conquest of the first territories.
Furthermore, the circumstances when large-scale expeditions began (1515-1600) were very different from those of the novel's current period (1496).
This is why Chuta proposes these commercial expeditions financed with private funds. Although we must remember that Chuta introduced share ownership, and he is part-owner of some businesses.
So far, the most well-known, or rather the only ones mentioned, are: Za's Home, Chewa's Trading and Shipping Company, and an agricultural production company or farm, which is indirectly mentioned in the first few chapters.
By the way, have you noticed that we're almost at 200 chapters?
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Read my other novels.
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#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 34) (ON HOLD)
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You can find them on my profile.]