The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the testing grounds. The air still carried the acrid smell of gunpowder smoke, mixed with the sweet scent of damp earth and trampled grass. As Carlos and Tassi gathered the materials used in the demonstration—the empty cloth cartridges, the ramrods, and the cleaning tools—Quixotina and Nia watched, talking quietly near the destroyed wooden targets.

  Nia looked at Carlos, who was trying to clean the soot off the musket, and couldn't hold back a muffled laugh.

  "You know what? I accept being your fifth wife, your highness," she said, giving an exaggerated bow. "I just hope you don't die of fear of Specter before then!"

  Immediately, she and Quixotina burst into contagious laughter. Tassi, who was next to Carlos, also let out a guffaw, covering her mouth with her hand.

  Carlos rolled his eyes, feeling heat rise in his face.

  Of course I was scared shitless! The guy is twice my size, he's a general, and he serves the king. I bet in a European court, I would have been beheaded on the spot. Good thing they're more lenient here...

  Quixotina gradually managed to control her laughter. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and spoke in a more serious tone:

  "Seriously now, I was really surprised that you became a noble. In my land, you could be considered a duke, perhaps. I was impressed with how you proclaimed your loyalty. You looked like a real knight... even if your commoner manners still need some polishing."

  "Very funny," Carlos replied dryly. "By the way, what did you come here for? I don't remember inviting you. This quilombo really is very liberal."

  "How could a knight like me miss the chance to see these magnificent weapons?" Quixotina retorted, lifting her chin. "And, answering your second question, Lady Aqua, the former chief of the mocambo, grants me certain... liberties."

  "Former chief, that's right," Carlos corrected, crossing his arms. "And, as the new chief, I think I'll be reviewing all those 'liberties' you have."

  Quixotina was momentarily speechless, but Tassi joined the conversation, her face still lit by a mischievous smile.

  "I was also very surprised by your appointment. But you... you didn't even blink. That little speech came out so naturally, it seemed like you had rehearsed it."

  Carlos saw a chance to turn the tables and stop being the butt of the jokes. A confident smile appeared on his lips.

  "It's because I was, in fact, prepared for something like this. Of course, I didn't expect it to happen so soon."

  Nia's eyes widened, genuinely astonished.

  "What do you mean? You were expecting this?"

  "Yes," Carlos affirmed, stopping his cleaning of the weapon. "Just think. Look at the weapons I helped create. The gunpowder, the musket, the grenade... There's no denying my usefulness to them."

  Tassi interrupted him, her tone growing more serious.

  "Usefulness isn't everything. Loyalty is needed. In my kingdom, a foreigner like you would only get that recognition after years of proven service."

  "But I am loyal," he countered, looking at each of them. "The first thing I did was hand over my weapons. I helped defend them. I answered all the questions they asked me. I kept no secrets, except for my books, which I even lent out. I think I've demonstrated more than enough loyalty."

  Tassi was silent for a moment, absorbing his words.

  From the very beginning... he was already planning to establish himself, to gain influence. He's not just a survivor, he's a strategist.

  Her respect for Carlos increased considerably. In a move that was half-joke, half-serious, she imitated the gesture he had made for Ganga Zala: she knelt, placed one hand on her knee, and bowed her head.

  "I, Tassi Hangbé, promise to be your loyal warrior, servant, worker, and whatever else you need, until the end!" she declared, before bursting into laughter again, pulling Quixotina and Nia into the same hilarity.

  As the laughter subsided, Nia took a deep breath, looking towards the mocambo.

  "Unfortunately, I have to go. The workshop never stops, and now I have even more work. Oh, and I want more apprentices, little chief," she said with a wink.

  She turned to leave, but not without giving an exaggerated sway of her hips and throwing a provocative look over her shoulder to see if Carlos was watching.

  He was.

  She has four husbands and still wants another one? And from what Specter said, that's normal... Well, I won't complain about having a view like that from time to time.

  Tassi, seeing the scene, snorted with disdain.

  "Men..."

  Quixotina didn't let it slide either.

  "Not very chivalrous of you, sir."

  Carlos, caught red-handed, shrugged with a disconcerted smile.

  "Well, isn't being a knight also about appreciating beauty from a distance? I'm just doing that. And Nia made a point of being appreciated. Looking away would be an insult to her... her performance, don't you agree?"

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  Tassi sighed, deeply disappointed.

  "You had just earned a bit of my respect, and you've already lost it." She closed her eyes for a second and then fixed them on Quixotina. "But, putting that aside, there's something more important I want to know. Something that concerns our knight friend."

  Quixotina, hearing that, turned on her heel and began to quickly walk away towards the mocambo.

  "You can come back here, Quixotina!" Carlos called, his voice echoing in the empty field. "I also remember your promise very well. You said you would tell me your real name after seeing the firearm in action. I intended to show you the firearms another time, but since you came snooping here..."

  Quixotina stopped, her shoulders sinking. She turned slowly and returned, dragging her feet.

  "You know... 'firearm' is a terrible name," she said, trying to change the subject. "I think 'Steel Thunder' would be better. And 'black powder'? Boring. How about 'Death Dust'? And the grenade... it should be called 'Explosive Iron Orange'. Don't you think?"

  "Making up horrible names won't get you out of this," Carlos replied, still smiling. "You can tell us, miss."

  Seeing there was no escape, Quixotina assumed a solemn posture. She repeated the kneeling gesture, but with a grace and nobility that the previous attempts had lacked. She knelt, one hand on her knee, her head slightly bowed.

  "I, Luíza Esterhazy de Viseu," she declared, her voice clear and firm, without a trace of jest, "promise to be your faithful knight and will fight for you until the end."

  Then, she stood up with the same elegance, and a sad smile touched her lips.

  "Luíza Esterhazy de Viseu. That is my name. And for a knight, a promise is a debt of honor. Here I am, settling mine." She stared at the horizon. "Know that since I arrived in the new world, I left that name behind."

  Tassi, curious, approached.

  "Why would you do that? It's such a beautiful name..."

  Luíza looked at her own hands, as if seeking answers in the lines of her palm. She remained silent for what seemed an eternity, until she sighed lightly.

  "It's a long story..." she whispered.

  "That's okay," Carlos encouraged, his tone now soft. "You can tell us."

  She sighed once more, this time more deeply. Without a word, she began to walk slowly towards a large, smooth stone in the shade of a strangler fig tree at the edge of the forest. She sat on it and waited for Carlos and Tassi to approach and settle on the ground in front of her. The song of thrushes filled the silence as she gathered her memories.

  Finally, she began to speak, her voice low and distant.

  "For as long as I can remember, I knew what my only two duties in life were. My family never let me forget. The first duty was to marry Duke Afonso de Viseu, a man twenty years my senior. My entire existence boiled down to that: an arranged marriage to strengthen ties between two powerful families. The second duty, as a woman, was to bear an heir. Preferably one who could use the Gems of Strength and Light. My whole life was meticulously planned for these ends."

  She paused, closing her eyes for a moment.

  "As soon as the engagement was settled, I began training in Portuguese etiquette. Even my baptismal name was changed. I wasn't originally named Luíza, but the Duke found my original name 'difficult to pronounce' and demanded it be changed."

  Carlos felt a wave of disgust and anger run through him. Tassi, though more accustomed to the harsh realities of that world, also seemed disturbed.

  "And... what was your name?" Tassi asked hesitantly.

  Luíza shook her head, her eyes somewhat glazed.

  "I don't know. I was so young when they changed it... I don't even remember anymore."

  The revelation fell like a stone. Tassi and Carlos exchanged a look of disbelief and pity. How could someone steal a child's very name?

  Quixotina—or Luíza—wiped a stubborn tear with the back of her hand and continued.

  "My life was already written. A script with a perfectly demarcated beginning, middle, and end. My whole family worked to ensure I played my part..."

  Her voice faltered for a moment.

  "But there was one person who was the exception. My uncle, Frederico. A true nobleman, who had fought in campaigns in North Africa. He was respected by many, but my family despised him. He was the light in my darkness. Whenever he could, he would come to play with me, or tell me stories of his adventures. He taught me things 'useless' for a future duchess, like reading and writing. My only truly happy memories from that time are of me sitting on his lap, listening to stories of knights fighting dragons and rescuing maidens."

  "One day, after one of these stories, full of courage and dreams, I looked at him and said, 'Uncle, I want to be a knight! I want to have heroic adventures!'."

  Luíza's voice cracked. "His face transformed. The expression of joy dissolved into a sadness so deep that he... he cried. I had never seen him cry before. He left my room without a word, and I stayed there, thinking it was my fault, that my dream was something wrong and ugly."

  "The next day, he and my parents had a terrible fight. I heard the shouts echoing through the corridors, and my name being spoken with anger. At the time, I thought they were angry with me. It was only years later that I understood my uncle was fighting for me, trying to give me a chance to be more than an instrument. When the shouting ended, he came to my room. I was curled up on the bed, crying. 'I'm sorry, uncle,' I whimpered, 'sorry for wanting to be a knight.' He hugged me with a strength that almost broke me in half and whispered in my ear, 'Never, ever, apologize for dreaming, my little Luíza.'"

  "He never told me I could be a knight, but after that day, he dedicated even more time to me. He gave me a wooden sword and began teaching me the fundamentals of fencing. He said I needed to defend myself from 'monsters.' I was the happiest person in the world during those lessons, even under the disapproving gazes of the rest of the family."

  "That was my life, until I became an 'adult' at twelve years of age." She spat the word with contempt. "The whole house was in an uproar. Finally, I could fulfill my 'supreme duty.' Everyone was euphoric. Everyone, except my uncle Frederico, who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders."

  "On the day of my departure, he was nowhere to be found. I was devastated, sure I would never see him again. But, just as I was getting into the carriage, he appeared. My parents were livid, but a single look from him made them retreat. His eyes were red and swollen. So were mine. He was holding a book. Before I could say anything, he pulled me into a tight hug. 'Luíza,' he whispered, and I felt his tears wetting my hair, 'unfortunately, I cannot tell you that you can be whatever you want. But listen: you can keep dreaming. And on the day you feel you can't anymore, I want you to read this.' He then handed me the book. On the cover, it read: 'Don Quixote de La Mancha, by Miguel de Cervantes.'"

  "I got into the carriage, and the long journey to my 'new home' began. The trip was a blur. I spent days in carriages and then on a ship, looking at the infinite sea, trying to convince myself that this was a great adventure. When we finally arrived at the duchy and I got out of the carriage, the first person I saw was my husband." She closed her eyes, as if to block the image. "The portraits they showed me were of a young, elegant man. The man in front of me... was not. His skin was marked, his features coarse, and he had a belly that hung over his belt. He smiled when he saw me, and everyone around him smiled too. The wedding ceremony was held that same day. Everything was prepared. He seemed to be in a hurry... a desperate one. At the time, I didn't understand why. Today, I know."

  Quixotina—Luíza—sighed deeply. A mask of pure anguish covered her face, and she seemed to shrink upon the stone. Carlos and Tassi remained silent, their own hearts tight, anticipating what was to come. The air around them seemed to grow heavier, colder.

  "After the wedding," she continued, her voice now little more than a hoarse whisper, "I was left alone with him in his chambers. The candles flickered, casting dancing shadows that couldn't illuminate the darkness of the place... nor the one growing inside me. And there... in that bed... I had to fulfill my 'duty' as a wife." She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. "I hated. Every. Single. Second. Of it."