Puntos Comunes [France, Spain]

[Spain]

"My cousin Louis and I are in accord. He wants Milan and so do I."
- Charles V

11 November 1500

The sun hung high in the blue sky, speckled with scatters of white clouds as Antonio leaned over the balcony to admire the landscape of Granada. Though the place was a lot more developed than in the past, rolling hills and plains once dotted with humble homes which the Moors had replaced with their own structures. He had been here many times during his formative years, but there was something about the way it was now that made it seem much more grandiose, emitting a sense of prestige (it was one of the few positive things that the Moors had contributed to his culture, though he would be hesitant to admit it). It had been very warm in this region of Spain in the last few months, though it began to cool down in recent days. As a matter of fact, it had gotten cold enough that he had switched his doublet for one with thicker sleeves to keep himself warm when he was too busy to go outside. The leaves on the trees had even started to change color, swapping their vibrant green coats for those of red, oranges and yellows. He would surely miss the warm weather and running around outside, though with harvest season over, there would not be too much to look at now.

Despite his busy schedule, there are days when he is able to venture out, take trips to tribunals and carry messages, and roaming freely in the land. It was not that he had never been to this city before, but rather, he was pleasantly surprised with how it had grown into over the recent years. Having been a stronghold for the Moors before they were driven out, many of the buildings had been converted into Christian places of worship. Though it could be considered a monument of la Reconquista or merely serve as a reminder of its past to the future, Antonio could not help but embrace that part of his own identity. After all, how long did he have to stay in their house, bearing the name of al-Andalus and try to speak a tongue that felt so foreign to himself? But at this time, he was no longer looking at just the land of León y Castilla or the united kingdom of Castilla y Aragón, but rather at loveliness of a completely unified Reino de España as it truly was.

He truly felt as if he was finally whole, having reconciled the multitudes of cultures that built his identity and finally being free of internal conflicts. It had been eight years since the day when King Fernándo II and Queen Isabel I completed la Reconquista, sealing the series of events with the Treaty of Granada in 1492. He felt as if the event were yesterday, when he finally recognized who he was. And today would be very much like that day as he could feel the excitement building up in him so much, his stomach was doing backflips inside.

However, it had been difficult to maintain order once it had been reestablished. His queen had been working to help him handle that, providing him guidance and establishing the Inquisition. It was for the sake of the people’s salvation, for the kingdom, for him, she told him. True to her word, los Reyes Católicos established a tribunal was established in the kingdom and have been working to ensure his unification, not just physically but spiritually and mentally. He had been traveling to Seville and Cordoba in particular to handle state affairs as of late to observe and report back to the monarchs what he saw. Though the process was slow, he was certain that the entire movement would help unite everyone under one faith. It was a mission that was commissioned to him and so he would carry it out full-heartedly, passionately until it is done.

Plus, having returned from his second trip to the Indies, Antonio could not help but feel as if he was on top of the world.

Sitting at his perch, he could see the towns people wandering back and forth in the square (or at least what he thought it was) as he waited for an announcement of a certain someone. No, it was not a member of the church or another diplomat from Ingraterra or Portugal, after all, he had seen them a few months back, when he went to see the two princesses who had married into the royal families of the two states. Though he missed them terribly (they had spoiled him rotten when he was younger), he knew that he had to stand on his own this time. He had been told to keep an eye out for a representative from the Kingdom of the Franks, or at least that's what he thought he had heard when they ushered him into the throne room today.

In all honesty, Antonio was excited, though he could not help but feel the feeling of anticipation as he craned his neck to look for any sign of someone arriving. Despite the fact that he had been given a number of responsibilities over the years, he had always felt the most excited when greeting visitors as they arrived. They always brought interesting gifts with them and sported the most elaborate clothes they had during the times as if to show their wealth and prestige. After all, when visiting a place such as this particular kingdom, people have been trying to make it a point to look their best when they tried to win the favor of the Spanish monarchs. Granted, with their newfound wealth, who would not be doing such a thing?

Finally, he spotted a procession of people riding down the streets, dressed in clothes that he recognized to be that of a higher station than the average commoner living in this city. Perking up, the Spaniard swung his legs over the ledge and jumped, landing on the ground with a soft thump before he took off running. He ignored the scolding of the governess who was in charge of him. After all, visitors cannot wait and he was eager to see who had arrived. Was it an old guy or a younger person, someone closer to his age? How about someone who was male or female?

“We have visitors!” he announced happily as he ran past the servants, making his way towards the gate.

---

- If you are wondering what event this is, it is the Treaty of Granada.

[France]

Francis and his white faithful white mare were both dressed in their finest as they drew closer to the Spanish town of Granada. France-ever the slave to fashion and good impressions- was wearing his finest, most elegant clothing for the occasion. The dark royal blues of his uniform were accented with real chains of gold and golden thread, and even his slender fingers glittered with golden rings, adorned with blue gems of various shapes and sizes. To look at him, he appeared as though he could have easily belonged to his royal family, an idea that was only supported by what appeared to be his escorts; all of which were also mounted on fine blooded steeds.

In truth, he was not a member of the French royalty, but all his men knew him to be a man of importance. He was always with the king, after all. They did not know him for the embodiment of their nation, but they did know that he was a man of high class and prestige, to be treated as top authority when they were out and about on these missions.

And atop his equally as well groomed mount, he very much looked to be a man of unquestionable authority, despite his youthful appearance. Just that morning, he had had his horse brushed and pampered until her coat shone, and then he had insisted on making an even bigger statement by tying silk ribbons of blue and gold-his national colors- in her long somewhat wavy mane. He couldn’t think of a way to make a better entrance into a foreign city, and he hoped that Espagne, the nation he was to meet with this fine autumn day, was impressed by such displays of power and wealth.

And of course nothing said wealth, power and amicable intentions like gifts to the nation he hoped to form an agreement with. In anticipation of his encounter with Spain, France had brought some of the most splendid gifts that he could bear to part with. Loaded onto some of the finest French horses he could find, were gifts of gold and silver; the typical gift to give in order to highlight ones wealth. Spain already had some of the most impressive horses in the world - France would never admit this openly, but he thought them even superior to the majority of his own equines. The other nation also had a fair amount of wealth already, so even the Frenchman’s gold and silver gifts were probably nothing special this time. They were however a proper gift to give, and worth more than any other French novelty items that Francis might have otherwise went with. His boss had insisted this time that Francis not be inventive with what he gave the other nation as a present.

It turned out that kisses, flowers and sweets were not really things that his bosses found appropriate to try and offer other powerful nations for presents. Francis himself thought they would surely mean more than simple objects made of precious metals, but who was he to argue with his leaders. It was probably just as well, he wasn’t sure if Spain would accept his kind of presents, and this meeting was too important to mess up.

Making their way across the countryside, the group of Frenchmen finally reached the streets of Granada. It was a rather hilly region, and the roads leading upwards toward the main part of town were just slightly muddy. It was not enough to get in France’s way, and he eagerly urged his horse onwards at a quicker pace.

He wondered if they would be met at the main gate. That made sense, but he was not sure who would meet them, be it a normal man or the other country. It didn’t really matter, and he was prepared to sit straight in the saddle, put on a warm smile and be on best behavior no matter who it was. He knew for sure though that he would eventually be seeing Spain, since they had business to discuss.

Making it to the main gate, France pulled his mare to a stop, waiting patiently for the gatekeeper. He wondered if he should perhaps shout something to draw more attention, but soon enough the gates started to creak open. Reaching out he patted his horse on the neck excitedly, eager to take a better look at the town itself, and meet with the nation of Espagne.
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((As always, let me know if I get any of my facts wrong here. I used a few links to give me an idea of the setting and what it would look like back then. Here is one of them, from a painting that was close to the time:
www.oceansbridge.com/paintings/artists/recently-added/july2008/big/The-Surrender-of-Granada-in-1492-xx-Francisco-Pradilla-y-Ortiz.JPG

Don't know if you had seen it or not before, but I included it just in case.))

[Spain]

Rushed steps hitting the smooth stone steps descending down into the majestic hall of the palace as Antonio hurried down the steps. If the guards were not looking, he would try to take two steps at a time, though the last time he tried that, he almost took a tumble and got a scolding, something about exhibiting grace (and self-control). Despite the fact that he had spent a great amount of time in the Spanish court now, even witnessing the secret marriage between King Fernándo and Queen Isabel, there were times when it hard hard for the youth to uphold the expectations of behavior befitting that of the representation of Reino de España. Rather, having been around commoners when he was travelling on Cristobal Colón's ship, some of the manners and reservation long ingrained into him by his caretakers gradually chiseled off and was tossed overboard.

When he finally reached the ground floor, the Spaniard initially briskly made his way towards the closest open door, only to pause because he realized that he was headed for the courtyard (in his defense, this was only the second time he had been in this palace since the bloodless surrender of Granada). After getting his bearings, he made a beeline for the massive hallways, making his way towards the gate. A couple of the servants saw him and lowered their heads in respect, to which he merely nodded and smiled at them as he passed them. Right now, his interest was more in greeting the guests that were quickly approaching them. Rounding the corner, Antonio took a quick peek over his shoulder before grinning as he took off down the hall, ignoring the heavy weight of the crucifix as it swung about his neck. After all, he could deal with getting hit in the face so long as it got him to the gate at a timely manner to meet the guests.

Perhaps he should have left his perch on the balcony a lot sooner.

The wind combed the Spaniard's hair, soft gasps for air escaped his lips as he sprinted for the gate. Only when the gentle arch was in site did Antonio slow down. Running his hand through his wind-tossed hair, he then quickly arranged the crucifix against his chest and tried his best to straighten his clothes as he walked the rest of the way. The guards seemed to hear his footsteps as he approached, looking over their shoulders and then turning back around. However, they parted for him when he got closer, allowing him to walk past them with ease as he craned his neck as if getting closer would allow for him to see things a lot clearer.

Though it was still a good distance, Antonio could see that the men were lavishly dressed, even the horses bore the most impressive accessories. High above the approaching train, billowing in the wind, was a banner of royal blue, which served as a background of three golden fleur-de-lis.

Francia, the Spaniard's eyes lit up with recognition as his eyes widened with surprise. Though they had not spoken to each other as frequently as neighbors should, they had definitely fought like such in the past. With the rising power of the French royal family, it was no secret that King Fernándo had worked hard to prevent Francia from gaining too much power. Nothing was more dangerous at this point than getting cut off from the rest of the continent, regardless of whether or not España dominated the seas. After all, they had even gone as far as to marry their third princess to the Habsburg as a temporary political alliance to keep the French at bay.

However, things could be different this time. In any case, Antonio was curious as to how this particular meeting would turn out. Considering that the last war was only a memory that had started to fade from their memories, the fact that they had fought a bitter war over control over the sphere of influence in Italy demonstrated that whatever talk that went on could yield a fragile, but plausible agreement that would benefit both sides. But that was about where Antonio generally stopped thinking about such political matters, domestic and foreign affairs were left up to the control of the kingdom's leaders anyway. He was just here to sit and look pretty and perhaps carry out tasks that would be easier if handled by a country.

When the men had finally gotten close enough for Antonio to recognize their faces, the Spaniard smiled widely when he recognized the Frenchman leading them. "Francis!" he said as he walked towards him, "welcome to the Reino de España, we are honored that you would be willing to travel all the way here to this humble part of Christendom." The urge to embrace the man surged through Antonio, though he refrained from doing so as he waited for Francis's men to dismount their horses.

---

- Yes, I have seen the painting, it's a favorite of mine!
- I almost called Francis "Francisco," but refrained.

[France]

"Francis!"

The sound of his name brought a smile to Francis’ lips as the familiar form of Spain himself approached them. The Spaniard looked just as handsome and dashing as ever. They may not have gotten along all the time, but France was always one to admire beauty-be it in the form of an enemy or a friend. His eyes roved over the other nation, taking in every aspect of his youthful appearance; from his rich brown hair to his exotic, olive complexion, and lastly his bright green eyes.

"welcome to the Reino de España, we are honored that you would be willing to travel all the way here to this humble part of Christendom."

“Bonjour Antonio. Rest assured that we are honored to be here. The travel is well worth it to see such an exquisite country.” Pulling his horse to a complete stop, Francis swung his leg over carefully and dismounted. swinging the reins gently over the mare’s head, he handed them over to one of his men to hold.

Closing the small distance between them, France grabbed Spain into a hug before giving him a quick kiss to either cheek. Pulling back with a smile, the Frenchman released Antonio and adjusted his hat. “It has been awhile hasn’t it, Antonio?” France decided to conveniently leave out their less than amicable interactions of the past. No need to bring up such things when the point of the visit was to secure an ally and perhaps reach an agreement about the situation with Italy. As far as France was concerned, it would be best to sweep all negative interactions and memories under the rug for now.

France’s men looked to him questioningly and for a moment the blonde had to wonder if Antonio planned on having their little chat in the palace itself, or somewhere else. It made sense that it would be in the palace, but he thought it best not to presume anything in cases like these. It would be very rude and assumptive on his part. “You have a place where we can rest our horses, mon ami? As you’ve said, we’ve had quite the travel and I fear that if the poor beasts are not seen to soon, they’ll bee in a sorry state.”

In reality the journey was not nearly so far as it could have been. He and Spain were neighbors after all, and France had certainly traveled greater distances before on his trusty mare. Still, the horses would undoubtedly be happy for the rest, and his men would be happy at the chance to get out of the saddle and perhaps see some of the foreign sights that the city had to offer. The other Frenchmen dismounted their horses and stood at the ready for any further instructions from France.

France’s bright blue eyes suddenly seemed to light up as he remembered something important. “Ah, Antonio, that reminds me. I have something for you.” After a few quick orders, a small group of young looking men approached leading the fine French stallions that were carrying the gold and silver; a testament to Francis' wealth and good intentions. “I brought gifts for you and your king.” His eyes shifted to the white horses, all tied up with elegant bows and ribbons and saddled with their precious cargo. As generic of a gift as it was, he hoped it would be to Spain and his leader’s liking. Anything to highlight his good intentions could only help their little meeting, right?

Ever a slave to appearances, the vain Frenchman smoothed his royal blue outfit down and gave his neighbor country a warm smile. “Well then my friend. We have much to discuss, so I’ll let you lead the way.”
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((The French can be very wordy in literature, so I kind of made France himself that way as well. The man likes to talk. XD And no worries, I almost typed Antonio as "Antonion" several times. And... I have no idea why.))

[Spain]

Pulled into Francis’s embrace, Antonio smiled as he wrapped his arms around him before returning the affection. Unlike some of the other countries that he had encountered, he felt relieved that there was someone who was also as quick to express their affections (he would not dare try to hug England, let alone give him a quick peck on the cheek). “Oh, it’s so good to see you, Francis!” he chirped, grinning wifely. He ignored the fact that some of his men looked at him strangely, taken back from the fact that they were accustomed to seeing the Spaniard holding back when he was in court (it was a huge struggle for him to remain stoic and diplomatic every day). After planting a kiss on each cheek, the Spaniard gave Francis a look over as he let the Frenchman go.

As he had expected, Francis had always looked so put together, so fashionable. He could tell that the Kingdom of the Franks was doing well, judging from the rich colors from Francis’s lavish outfits and the appearance of the guards. His masters had married off their children to both the Portuguese and Habsburg royalty to deter their ambitious neighbors from trying to incorporate Antonio into their household. However, it did prevent the Spaniard from being comfortable with someone he had known for so long. After all, though diplomatic ties were delicate and easily snapped, Antonio firmly believed that deep bonds between countries overruled any obstacles created by something so effervescent.

Besides, he had always enjoyed the conversations and company of his French neighbor.

“Oh, wow, thank you for the gift, Francis!” Antonio said as he laid eyes on the gifts, keeping himself from gaping (too much). “This is wonderful, I am sure that His Highness would be pleased!”

“Hm, now that you brought it up, it has been a while, hasn’t it?” Antonio’s eyes wandered towards the sky as he lost himself in his thoughts, “I would say a couple years to be exact.” Though he did not mention it (which was rare), he did not remember interacting with Francis since the struggle they went through in Italy. Sure, they did not exactly see things eye to eye, but there was not much that could be helped. Though he had not officially met the other Italian representative, Antonio felt that Italy was precious, too precious to allow to fall into the hands of the French.

He was sure that Francis understood, deep down inside.

“You have a place where we can rest our horses, mon ami? As you’ve said, we’ve had quite the travel and I fear that if the poor beasts are not seen to soon, they’ll bee in a sorry state.”

At the mention of a resting place, the Spaniard smiled sheepishly; it had slipped his mind in all the excitement. “Los sientos,” he started, smiling sheepishly, “let me personally show you your room!” With that, he threw an arm around Francis and casually led him into the palace. To hell with formalities and court procedures, it was not as if they were in a formal discussion. Turning around and giving his men orders to take care of the horses and help carry the baggage, Antonio then proceeded to make his way through the hallways towards the rooms where the guests usually stayed. The sunshine shone through the natural windows, illuminating the geometric designs on the walls as they walked past.

Olive eyes sweeping over the designs in quick admiration, Antonio looked over at Francis to see if he was looking. “As you can see,” he said as he pointed at the patterns, “this use to be a mosque back when Granada was under the rule of the Moors, but we converted it to a palace because we couldn’t bear tearing this down… after all, despite the fact that they are heretics, they taught us so much!” The tone in Antonio’s voice was casual, void of hate or malice when he had mentioned his former captives. Aside from some bad childhood memories that grew faint over time, he could not really bring himself to hate the Moors since they had treated him kindly.

Also, if it were not for them, chances were a lot of ancient texts would have been lost already. It was just that his masters thought that they were a threat to Antonio as he was going through such an important stage in solidifying his identity. Yes, it was all for me, he told himself, to prevent future conflict and to ensure that our kingdom's salvation.

When they had finally approached the chambers that the French country would stay, Antonio opened the door, admiring the layout of the room and the way the sunshine came through the windows. “This is where you’ll be staying,” the Spaniard said as he walked over to the window, “I’m sure that you are tired from your journey, so perhaps when you are well rested, meet me in the library. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about, no?”

---

Notes:
- I'm not exactly sure what kind of a past you wanted to give them two, so I purposely left it vague, though perhaps if we want to throw in little details... hit me up!
- Ajaja... young Spain is so different to play. xD;
- Sorry it took so long to get this up, I was stumped with what to have Antonio do without making this boring.
- Antonio is also happy to see a fellow affectionate country. <3

[France]

Francis was happy that his Spaniard companion was so welcoming. Even though he had been the one required to bring gifts since he was a visitor, Spain was still treating him as a king. All the warm welcoming and thanks put a smile on the blonde’s face. Of course he expected no less from Antonio, who was very much like Francis as far as physical greetings and displaying affections were concerned. Some countries could be very stubborn and stuck in their non-affectionate ways, but not Spain.

“let me personally show you your room!”

Francis gave an overly eager nod as the Spaniard threw his arm around him and began to lead him to the palace. Such casual displays were to his liking, even if his boss might frown at them. Francis was very much driven by emotion and passion, something that his bosses- with their formality concerning other nations- just couldn’t understand. He himself could be very formal if he felt he needed to. He had been forced to do so in the past on several occasions with dealings with much less laid back nations. He didn’t prefer it however; It was far easier for him to express himself informally. He also thought it easier to sway others to his way of thinking when he did not have formalities getting in the way.

The intense autumn sun was filtering in through the windows, casting its warmth and light all through the hallways. Francis eyed the corridor over, in silent amazement at the interesting designs on the walls. Spain began to speak, and France listened closely, following the other man’s hand with his eyes as he pointed to the wall designs. The francophone raised an eyebrow slightly at the utter lack of negativity in Antonio’s voice as he mentioned his previous captors. He was not quite sure how he was expecting Antonio to refer to the Moors, but to hear them spoken of with no malice coloring his words was slightly unexpected.

“Ah, but I would be glad that they didn’t tear it down despite it’s history, mon ami. This is a really beautiful palace, and it would be a shame to have lost it I imagine.” He studied the Spaniard’s face for a moment before turning his gaze back to his surroundings. The designs looked even more elegant and appealing highlighted by the rays of the sun, and even Francis-who had some gorgeous architect in his own homelands- was impressed. “I have some beautiful buildings in my borders as well.” he informed Antonio. “I know if they were torn down I would be devastated, no matter what they might have formerly stood for. Beauty is beauty, non?”

They walked in silence for a bit, and France used the time to relax and merely gaze at all the beauty that the corridors had to offer, his eyes flittering occasionally to the sunny scene outside. It was so bright. With the sun, it didn’t look as though it should be so chilly. But that’s the way weather was in the autumn season. Gorgeous, but with a hint of winter in the air.

They approached a room, and when Antonio opened the door, Francis made his way inside and examined the chamber in full. The layout was certainly to his liking, as was the lavish décor. The bedspread was a rich red color, with golden trim, and the bedcurtains were a matching shade. The sunlight streaming in from the large window illuminated the whole space, giving the room a happy sort of glow. Francis joined Antonio by the window, peering out for a moment at the scene outside.

“I’m sure that you are tired from your journey, so perhaps when you are well rested, meet me in the library. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about, no?”

Feeling rather pleased with the setup, Francis studied Spain. “I’m not too tired to simply join you in the library Antonio. This is a beautiful chamber, but I would rather rest up in the company of a friend, wouldn’t you? Perhaps we could catch up over some wine too, if it’s not too much to ask.” Reaching out he patted the other nation on the shoulder affectionately.

“By all means, lead the way and we’ll talk in the library.” Wrapping an arm around the other man, he prepared to allow himself to be led off to the palace library. He figured it would be better this way anyways, since he had not been in the palace before, and was not in the mood to hunt for the library or have a servant lead him there.
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((I could not hold off posting this until Sunday like I had planned, because I might not be home then. So just don't feel the need to reply right away. ~))

[Spain]

During the momentary silence, Antonio watched Francis seemed to be taking in all the decor of the room, from the elegantly designed chest to the carefully laid out linens. recently, they had been investing heavily in decorating the internior of thecastles and dressing the servants in a manner that would befit the Spanish royalty. It was not as if he could complain about the lavish decorations to begin with, after all, it just made his cities look that much more rich! During his life on the Spanish court, he had learned that though diplomacy could help maintain relationships with others, none established itself better than the phyiscal appearance.

"I’m not too tired to simply join you in the library Antonio. This is a beautiful chamber, but I would rather rest up in the company of a friend, wouldn’t you? Perhaps we could catch up over some wine too, if it’s not too much to ask."

Antonio turned to look at Francis, a questioning expression on his face before he tilted his head, his olive eyes fixed on the Frenchman's face the whole time. Tugging on the curtain and allowing some more sunlight to travel into the room, the Spaniard nodded before he let it fall again. "Well, if that's the case," he started as he folded his arms, resting the majority of the weight of his body on one leg, "I guess I can show you al the books that we have!" He paused for a moment to see if Francis was going to follow him before he headed towards the door. As they walked on down the hallway, he could not help but feel like Francis was like a stranger in a strange land. Though it was not to say that Francis did not belong in Spain, but to see a Christrian strolling leisurely through the halls of a building lavishly invested in by their Muslim rivals seemed ironic to him. Granted, he would imagine that it was how the knights of vrious orders looked like when they travelled to Jerusalem, fighting to reclaim the land of their Lord and Savior from those heretics. After all, with their fair features, they were certain to stick out a lot more than he would. Amused, Antonio continued to walk on, smiling to himself until he decided to strike up conversation.

"So you have anything that you're interested in seeing? Oh yeah, there's some stuff that's really old, like, from Greece!" he chirped happily as he smiled, "I think that you'll like them, you were always kind of big on these things, yeah?" Or at least, he thought he was. If there was one legacy that the Moors left behind when they were driven out of Spain, it would be the immense richness of knowledge that they had collected from their conquered states, which had brought this part of Christendom out of the darkness that came after the collapse of the Roman Empire.

The room that they had entered was rather humble in appearance, though decorated with geometrical patterns as the rest. The books, a large collection of rolled parchment and loosely binded pages, were stacked up amongst the shelves. Walking into the room, Antonio opened up a chest that was set up there and pulled out a jug of wine. "Would you like some?" he offered as he pulled out a goblet and started to fill it, making assumptions that Francis would probably not turn down the offer.

When he was finished, Antonio set everything on a flat surface and walked up to a shelf. "Feel free to take a look around, there's some pretty neat stuff here -- though some of it's in arabic... wouldn't do you much good there... but otherwise, everything else would be fair game." Then with that, he pulled out a book and handed it to Francis, "you might find this interesting though!"Then with that, he walked over and leaned against one of the shelves. Folding his arms neatly across his chest, he looked at Francis.

"So, what brings you here? I'm sure that it's probably more than books, right?" He had decided not to waste too much time dancing around the topic. It was rare to see Francis come over, at least, bearing peace at least.

---

Notes:
- I'll leave the book choice to you. Just... don't make it something dirty, though it'd be funny.

[France]

Arm around Antonio’s shoulder, Francis followed his lead off down the ornate halls. His heels echoing on the stone floors, the blonde let his eyes wander back to all the interesting bits of décor around them. It was in his nature to take in as much detail as he possibly could when it came to aesthetics. Even though he had seen the geometric patterns coming in, he was more than content to stare long and hard at them once more, drinking in all of their foreign beauty. Francis was definitely the type to be easily distracted by beauty of any kind; a trait that both served him well and hindered him depending on the situation.

His gaze left the walls and decorations to rest once more on Spain’s features. He really was such a handsome nation. Of course all nations tended to be well above average in looks, but there was something especially appealing to Francis about the exotic tint to Antonio’s skin, and his dark hair. The happy expression on his face only added to his exotic appeal. If only it were warmer and he could see more of the Spaniard’s physique…

"So you have anything that you're interested in seeing?…”

For a moment the rest of Antonio’s sentence was missed by the French nation, who was so very tempted to tell Antonio just what he had been thinking about wanting to see before he spoke up. Oui, mon ami I can think of a lot of other things I am interested in seeing… France had a feeling that-as affectionate as Antonio was- he might not go for giving him a strip tease. Since this was a business trip, he didn’t want to risk upsetting the other nation either, so he kept quiet for the time being. Wine had a way of heating the body anyways, so maybe after enough of it, Antonio would show off more of his physique anyways. It was a silly thought, but France was hopeful.

"I think that you'll like them, you were always kind of big on these things, yeah?"

“Oui.” Francis agreed, realizing that Spain was talking about things from Greece. “Greece has such fascinating literature. And of course, the art has always appealed to me as well.” It was true, Francis adored classical Greek art. The freedom of the poses, and the beautiful detail that each sculpture possessed. Plus the fact that they were usually nude always appealed to him. Heracles’ mother had some really talented artists, that was for sure. In fact, France had a large collection of Greek statues and art in his own home.

They entered another room that was decorated very much like the halls only with books and parchments stacked against the wall on shelves. The Frenchman wandered over to stand by the shelves, his eyes flitting over some of the parchment with interest.

"Would you like some?"

He turned his head and gave Antonio a nod and a smile. “But of course.” Walking over to stand by his host, he graciously accepted the goblet. Always one to enjoy wine, France swirled the drink in his goblet for a moment to fully release the flavor before taking a long drink. The liquid was heavenly. Not as good as his own wines he fancied, but still very flavorful. It certainly wasn’t cheap by the taste of it.

Suddenly he was being handed a book, and he accepted it with his free hand, flipping it over to examine the cover. The graceful, well defined painted image of a woman greeted his eyes, followed by a title in Greek. “Ah, indeed.” He confirmed his interest, setting the goblet down on a shelf to flip through some of the pages and look at the illustrations. He could read Greek fairly well. He was no expert in it, but he could read well enough to entertain himself with such a book.

"So, what brings you here? I'm sure that it's probably more than books, right?"

With all the hospitality, France was quiet for a moment as he tried to recall why he was there. His bosses orders returned to him, and he set the book down, picking the wine up again. “Yes, it was more than books and gorgeous architecture than brought me to your home, Antonio. Sad as that is.” he took a swig of the wine before continuing on. “I’m here to discuss Naples and the possibility of a partition. It’s not a topic I want to bring up of course, but you know how these things are.” He paused, emptying his goblet of wine. “Personally, I would much rather discuss more pleasurable things, mon ami, but I suppose we would need to discuss Naples sooner or later anyways.”

Moving over to the table, he set his goblet down and grabbed the wine jug. “More wine Antonio?” he offered, holding out his hand to receive his partner’s goblet and re-fill it. He was convinced that more wine would make for better and more smooth negotiations.

[Spain]

Antonio had been watching as Francis swirled the wine in his glass, admiring it before he sipped it. When the Frenchman' was done, the Spaniard was pleased to see a satisfaction on his face, a clear indication that the wine was good. Pouring himself a goblet, Antonio wafted the smell, taking in the smoky tones of the wine before he drank it. The mere thought of that caused him to puff his chest out, clearly proud of the fact that despite the dry climate, the fruits of his land were so delicious!

Slowly savoring the wine, he watched as the Frenchmen went through the book, studying his expression. Olive green eyes sweeping over the Adonis-like features, Antonio could not help but wonder how someone who was so friendly and open be someone that he needed to watch closely. After all, if he would dare say, the man who stood before him was a representation of not only France, but most of Christendom. After all, his fair features remained untouched by the Moorish blood, which had mingled with that of Antonio’s people, and he was Catholic (which he considered one of the more important facts). It was not that he was particularly self-conscious of his own appearance, if anything, he was proud of every part that made up Reino de Espana. But at the same time, he was very well aware of the fact that he had grown to look less like his ancestors over the years.

“Yes, it was more than books and gorgeous architecture than brought me to your home, Antonio. Sad as that is. I’m here to discuss Naples and the possibility of a partition. It’s not a topic I want to bring up of course, but you know how these things are. Personally, I would much rather discuss more pleasurable things, mon ami, but I suppose we would need to discuss Naples sooner or later anyways.”

Naples. The name of the southern Italian city-state caught Antonio’s attention, causing him to perk as he listened with interest. He had been there long ago, passing through as King Fernando sailed to Sicily to claim his stake on its crown. Though he would never admit it, he fell in love with the warm climate and lush lands – it was like his own, sunny, and beautiful. He was certain that whoever was the representation of these lands was probably very cute! However, he had been very quiet about his urge to claim the land for his own, though he was pleased to hear that his king’s ambitions had toyed with the idea of incorporating the land into the Spanish kingdom.

“Hm?” he said in response as he met Francis’s eyes before quickly looking back down at his goblet. It was empty.

“Oh sure,” he said as he held his goblet out, “though you didn’t have to do this for me, you know?” Unaware of any potential ulterior motive that the Frenchman had, he allowed Francis to pour as much as he wanted into the cup before he brought it to his lips. After taking a sip, he placed the goblet on the table, crossing his arms as he looked at Francis. “The partition of Naples?” he said inquisitively, cocking his head to the side, curiosity aroused at the mention of sharing the land with France. Part of him was a bit confused, not quite sure as to why Francis would want control of the Italian state. After all, he had his own ports in the Mediterranean and he was certain that the French could project their powers from one of their ports if they wanted to do so.

But he had remembered what he was told in regards to meeting with France and for once, decided to keep his mouth shut in regards to his own plans for Naples. France wants Naples all to himself? What would happen to the representative? How much influence would he have? Though he could not help but feel the tension that was knotting in his chest as he tried to contain himself from immediately asking questions.

“Well, we can still talk about pleasant thing, yeah?” he said, not quite understanding why Francis seemed to think that Naples was such an unpleasant topic, “well either way, so what is this about Naples? It is pretty lovely, dontcha think?” Then with that, he grinned and continued to drink his wine, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach.

---

Notes:
- Er... unintentional hints of Spamano, it's just Spain just really wants to control Italy. Um... I'm going off a headcanon that they still have not met yet.
- Um... Antonio doesn't tend to notice things, so yeah.
- I laughed while reading your post, it is quite different to play out this period, indeed! It's a nice post.

[France]

“Oh sure.”

Francis smiled almost deviously as Antonio offered his goblet to him. If there was one thing that Francis adored, it was being in charge of how much wine he and his companions had. Negotiations were always so much smoother and more interesting after a perhaps unhealthy amount of wine consumption. He was not sure as to how tense the topic of Naples would be, but he wanted to drown any concerns the Spanish nation may have had as soon as possible.

“though you didn’t have to do this for me, you know?”

“Ah, but it’s only polite mon ami.” he responded dismissively. Tilting the jug, he filled Antonio’s goblet as much as he could without having it spill at the slightest movement. Pouring himself half as much, he set the wine back down and turned his blue eyes onto the other nation once more. Drink up, Antonio. You know you can’t take more than just a sip of this stuff. He stared hopefully at the goblet that the other had set down, silently willing him to pick it up and down it.

“The partition of Naples?”

He shook his head in agreement. “Oui. The partition of Naples.” He took time to sip on his own goblet of wine, encouraged by the other man’s curious yet non-defensive manner. Though there was no reason that Francis could see for Spain to be on edge about the subject, it was best to air on the side of caution with these things. All too often the bouncy blonde Frenchman had been left trying to discuss partitions and similar things with nations that were not completely in agreement with what he wanted. France was very selfish by nature, and although he understood that he had to sweeten the deals in some cases when he wanted something, he didn’t like having to give too much. As it was, he would thoroughly enjoy it if Spain and his boss just handed him the entirety of Naples no questions asked. Of course that would not happen, and he was smart enough o realize that to be an impossible dream.

“Well, we can still talk about pleasant things, yeah?”

Drinking the wine and staring at Spain’s chest almost intently, he nearly missed the rest of what the Spaniard had said. The wine was warming him up nicely already, and he swirled the liquid in his goblet contentedly. “Hmmm? Oh yes, it’s very lovely. Such a beautiful and warm place.” He bit back his urge to add that those were some of the very reasons he wanted all of it if he could have had things his way. “I have not yet met it’s representative, have you Antonio?” He questioned curiously, setting his goblet down for a moment and looking into the other man’s handsome features.

Of course the spirit representative was besides the point. One way or another Naples would be his. He vaguely wondered what would happen to the nation that represented the land? If they split Naples like his boss had been talking about, what would happen to the representative? Would he die from such a thing? Francis shivered at the thought. As much as he wanted the land and as much as he was set on taking it regardless, he didn’t want to help kill another of their kind. He hoped that the partitions would just mean that the other would fall under his command. Like what happened when their kind overtook and conquered another nation.

“In any case, I would love your help in the coming invasion of Naples, Spain. I believe we both share a common interest, non?”

[Spain]

Chuckling at Francis’s insistence, Antonio watched as the wine flowed, crimson liquid velvet running as the elements of floral scents escaped from the bottle. When the Frenchmen finished and started to pour his own, Antonio took a large sip from it, savoring it as he swallowed. He continued to watch as Francis placed the jug back on the table before going back to drinking, smiling as he did so. “Muchas gracias, amigo,” he said cheerfully, “though I’m surprised that you didn’t pour yourself as much?” Though the Spaniard had not realized that this may have been a sly tactic on the Frenchmen’s part, he was a little disheartened by the fact that Francis did not seem to want as much as he did.

It would be another few minutes before Antonio could feel the effects of the wine kick in, though it was not as potent as some of the other aged wines, but enough to leave him drifting somewhere between content and loosely grounded. Setting the goblet down for a moment, he scratched his head lazily before sitting down in a chair, grinning. He failed to notice the fact that Francis had been focused very intently on specific parts of his body, lazily undoing the first couple buttons of his doublet to reveal the undershirt underneath. He honestly felt uncomfortable sitting in these clothes, but all things considered, if it was necessary to project the status of his well-being, he could only make do with airing himself a little before he sank in his seat.

“I have not yet met its representative, have you Antonio?”

The question caused Antonio to quirk an eyebrow, a bit curious to the fact that Francis had not met whoever represented Naples. Given, they had both met the representative of the northern Italian states, assuming that he is the northern states because he rarely ventured down past Rome on the peninsula. That said, it was assumed that there was someone living in the vast land, someone like them – he presumed that whoever it was would most likely be cute, if they looked anything like their brother. Antonio could not help but hope that the person would be a female, it would be a breath of fresh air. “Well no,” he answered, tilting his head thoughtfully as he looked at Francis, “Though I heard that the representative is most likely a child, from what My Lord had told me before you arrived.”

Just then, a feeling arose in Antonio, one that he was not quite familiar – whatever Francis had asked aroused a feeling of urgency in him, causing him to feel like he had to somehow beat him to meeting whoever this person was. The discomfort continued to sit on his chest, suffocating him as he found himself disliking the fact that Francis would creep upon his sphere of influence, that he would dare to challenge the balance of power that his Lord had set up and try to take away the throne of Sicily, even though it was rightfully claimed by King Fernando.

“In any case, I would love your help in the coming invasion of Naples, Spain. I believe we both share a common interest, non?”

Violently shoving the thoughts to the side, the Spaniard smiled at Francis, almost as if to find whatever dark thought was there before. “You want my help in invading Naples?” Antonio repeated dumbly, confused about the sudden request, “don’t you have enough forces to campaign through all of the Italian states by yourself? It would be easy since they don’t seem that unified, don’t you think?”

It was not that the Spaniard wanted to stay out of war, he was well aware of the fact that some were a bit harder to avoid than others. But given the fact that Sicily was practically in his hands and Naples had approached them for a long standing alliance, he knew that it would be idiotic to openly declare that he was siding with the French. It would be like crowning a gypsy girl queen on his throne. Fernándo would never allow for it and Isabel would rather die than to agree to such an alliance.

Frowning again as he held the wine in his hand, Antonio swirled it around in its cup as he looked at Francis intently.

[France]

The Frenchman had stared with the intensity of a hawk looking at prey as Antonio had undone the buttons on his doublet. He had only hoped that his predatory grin did not give away any of his more sinful intentions. But Spain had not noticed, so all had been going well so far.

“Well no, Though I heard that the representative is most likely a child, from what My Lord had told me before you arrived.”

A child? But of course that made perfect sense. He had meet the representation of the northern Italian states already, and he had been a petit thing. All nations started out small, even if they did not always stay that way for long. Francis had the impression that the representative of Naples would be a rather adorable thing, if he was anything like his northern brother. Just the thought of claiming him as his own little brother was exciting. Francis loved children, and all the more when they were young impressionable nations, just waiting for his brotherly guidance. He suddenly was all the more hopeful that he would not have to bring about the small nation’s death by conquering him and splitting him and possibly having to split him with Spain.

“You want my help in invading Naples?”

Francis looked up from the other nation’s chest, bright blue eyes suddenly staring at him in confusion as he processed those words. He had been spacing off, lost in his own thoughts concerning the child nation of Naples, and had almost forgotten where their conversation had been going. Spain looked happy enough though on the outside, and picking up his wine goblet, Francis quickly regained his bearings. Leaning up against the bookshelf, he waited for Antonio to finish his next sentence before answering.

“don’t you have enough forces to campaign through all of the Italian states by yourself? It would be easy since they don’t seem that unified, don’t you think?”

“Ah, mon ami, you are right in that regard. They don’t seem unified do they?” He gave the Spaniard a bright smile as he raised his goblet to his lips and took a sip of the red liquid. Staring intently at his companion, he considered the best way to word his reply. He would of course love it if Spain would help in the invasion, but if he wouldn’t, then just getting him to stay out of his way while he invaded might be enough. That was certainly all his boss was hoping for, he suspected. Naples was allied with Spain, and whereas he was certain he could deal with Naples easy enough, he did not want to be trying to deal with Spain as well. No. For things to work, Antonio needed to be convinced to either join the French cause, or stay out altogether.

“Of course I realize you are allied with Naples, and that you probably would not want to help me with any of my plans in such a manner. However, I think that we might both be able to benefit here in some way.” Pouring himself a little more wine, he made to add even more to Antonio’s glass. “You have such delicious wine, by the way my friend.”

Francis moved around Antonio, coming up behind him and resting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s like this, I want Naples. I need Naples. It’s very important to me, Antonio. I have enough force to take Naples too, if the situation is right.” He gave the other man’s shoulder a slight friendly squeeze. Spain was a hard nation to predict, since he did not know a lot about him personally. He was unsure as to how he would react to his words, and was trying to be as friendly as he could with his wording. There was only so amicable the blonde could sound though while talking about conquest. He suspicioned that Spain would not be as in favor of him taking Naples, since it would upset the power balance the two of them had going on in the Italian states.

“It’s as you said, they are not unified, and therefore shall be easier to claim. I do have a problem though, that I would love your help with.” Starting to feel heated up from the wine, Francis removed his hand from Spain’s shoulder to loosen his own outfit a bit. It had been a bit chilly before the drinks, but now he felt the warmth and comfort of the alcohol setting in.

“I don’t want us to be enemies, Spain. And I know you are Naples’ ally. If you don’t want to help me invade and conquer Naples outright, I would be thrilled if we could reach some sort of agreement that would allow me to carry out my plans without Spanish intervention against me.” The blonde gave his host a hopeful look.

[Spain]

Missing the awkward silence that followed, Antonio happily leaned his head against the back of the chair as the discussion continued. “Well, blood does run thicker than water, though it doesn’t help my cause that your king is also the cousin of mine,” he said bemusedly at the situation as he looked up at Francis, “but it would be pretty horrible of me if I abandoned Naples when he needs a friend the most, you know?” Then as though he had intentionally meant to put Francis on the edge of his seat, he smiled smugly as he swirled his wine slowly, letting it settle before placing it on a small table next to him. He had been drinking a larger quantity in a shorter amount of time, a situation which could be dangerous if he let it get out of hand.

Despite the fact that he had only seen the ruler of Naples a couple of times, he had a sense that the alliance between him and Naples was a strategically more favorable than anything that the French could offer him. After all, he had not seen any fault with the alliance to this point, barring the fact that there was the issue that the relationship could easily change if a new ruler came into power… especially one that saw another kingdom to be more beneficial. And while it would be easy to say, “Let’s be friends for a long time,” for a kingdom like Spain that was on the edge of the continent, it was more important to have a stronger position where he could actively trade with others.

Yet while he said that, there was a notion that was stirring inside of Antonio, one that was not necessarily that of conquest, but perhaps that of possession. Fernándo had long since wanted Naples to fall under his sphere of influence… and with the Church located by Rome, it was in their best interest that Naples remained under his influence. After all, it would be troubling if he did not have the support of the Church, such as when he had the territory dispute with Portugal. But at the same time, he knew that Francis would be deeply interested in doing the same thing. After all, the memory of entering into a war with Francis for the Italian states last time was still very fresh in his memory. But that time, he could remember the frustration in fighting Francis, the desire to run him through to make him go away.

The offer to split up Naples, though not the most ideal arrangement, was still a welcome option to Antonio. It would have to do as a temporary arrangement until he was in a better position to do something about it. Though Antonio hated going back on his word, he could see there was an advantage to agreeing to the deal. After all, Francis was going to attack the Italian states regardless of whether or not he was on board with the plan and so he might as well secure a part of a piece of Italy in case he was not in the position to do anything else. After all, if anything, he could always just change his mind things became favorable to do so. At least that would be what his king would tell him to do – Fernándo never seemed hesitant to swindle the French when the timing was perfect. Yes, that would be to his advantage if he was able to stay out of any conflict for the time being – he was too busy establishing a foothold overseas to really have the time to take on something here.

And somewhere along the train of thought that Antonio’s slightly intoxicated mind went through, he decided that it would be a good idea to just go along with it. The Spaniard rested his head against his left hand, perpetual smile on his lips as he nodded.

“Well, Francis,” he said lazily, shifting in his seat so that he was more comfortable, “I guess we can make it work, yeah.” During that time, he failed to notice Francis filling up his wine glass some more, as he took another sip of the wine. “Though how do you think we should split things up? I can see that getting a bit messy!”

---

Notes:
- This was kind of hard to write... and I eh, well, it'll have to do.

[France]

“Well, blood does run thicker than water, though it doesn’t help my cause that your king is also the cousin of mine.”

The blonde studied Spain with almost baited breath, listening intently and trying to think of ways to use the Spaniard's own words to support his ideas. He wanted to say something to the effect of family should side with one another, but decided against it for the time being. Cousins, brothers.... their leaders’ relations really did not matter in the grand scheme of things. Francis had learned that long ago. How often had brothers killed their own brothers to get ahead? Too often to count in his experience. If there was one lesson to be learned from all of these murders and disagreements of family, it was that family ties would not get in the way when someone wanted something bad enough.

“but it would be pretty horrible of me if I abandoned Naples when he needs a friend the most, you know?”

The Frenchman fought back the frown that threatened to tug at his lips. Antonio looked so amicable and thoughtful though as he swirled his wine and stared out at Francis. Though his words were less than what he had been hoping for, perhaps Antonio would still come around to his way of thinking yet. All was surely not lost just now. Not while they were still calm and on good terms and there was a supply of wine to help warm the other man up to the idea.

“Ah, surely Naples isn’t as good of a friend as I could be, Antonio.” Francis tried, a playful note to his voice. “Naples as an ally will only get you so far. I can be a much better and more productive ally.” Making his way around the table to stand right in front once more, France poured himself a bit more wine and gave his ally hopeful a smile.

If there was one thing the bouncy blonde did not want, it was to have Spain interfere in his plans to claim more land. The Spaniard had already proven that he could be a serious thorn in the side from their last encounters concerning the battle for the Italian states, and he did not want a repeat of that. He wanted to at least get his former enemy to agree to be neutral and not help Naples. Was that too much to ask for?

Of course even if Antonio did not agree to his proposals, and the visit turned out to be a wasted effort, France was still deadest on claiming Naples. If he had to fight Spain again, then so be it. Though the other had proven to be a formidable foe, he was by no means afraid of him, and was ready to attempt his goals regardless of Spanish compliance. That little representation of the southern Italian states would be his soon enough. No matter what was decided here.

Gazing at the man opposite of himself with the intensity of a hunting hawk, Francis noticed as the Spaniard then nodded, smile on his lips. Instantly, France’s spirits rose. This was good. He was in agreement with the plans if he was nodding and smiling.

“Well, Francis.”

The Frenchman downed the rest of his own wine as he focused on the dark-haired nation. Sneakily, he reached over and filled the Spaniard’s glass before adding a tiny bit more to his own out of politeness. Nobody liked to drink alone, right?

“Though how do you think we should split things up? I can see that getting a bit messy!”

“Come now, mon cher.” He laughed slightly as he watched Spain take another sip. His eyes shifted to the buttons on the man’s doublet, as though willing Antonio to remove more of them. Less clothing and more wine for his Spanish companion sounded good for this next decision to be made. “We are both reasonable countries, non? Things can’t get too messy with calm, intelligent and completely reasonably minded nations such as ourselves deciding on these things.”

He was silent for a moment, waiting for Antonio to perhaps drink up some more of the wonderful, rich alcohol. He knew how he would personally want to split things, but he doubted Antonio would settle with only getting ten percent of the spoils, so he quickly decided against even bringing up his ideal split. When having to split things, less for the partner involved was normally good, but the problem was the fact that then the partner would usually never agree to something unless they knew they were getting a fair share. It was a double edged sword in a way. Offer more to the partner and he would be expected to give that amount of land and influence to Antonio. If he offered less than what he was to get, there was a chance Spain would decide against agreeing to such a deal.

Taking his own outer coat off and setting it aside, the Frenchman studied his companion. “How about this, Antonio. How about we split it half and half? That sounds fair, doesn’t it? You get half the spoils, and I get half the spoils.”

[Spain]

Though he would hate to admit that there were times where it would take him a lot longer to understand the situation, Antonio could see the ambition ooze from Francis's pores. Not to mention, being a neighbor of the Italian states, it was not only natural to desire to expand control over such lush and fertile lands, but to hold the Church and its influence has its advantages as well. Though it felt very wrong to use the servant of God to advance one's political advances (which Isabel adamantly agreed with), it was easy to see how much sway the commands of the Church had on other kingdoms. He had seen it when they set up a tribune in Spain to monitor the conversos, and again when he carved out his claim on the unknown lands. But then again, perhaps having control would not necessarily mean attempts to usurp the power of the Almighty, but being as anything that happened on earth is a reflection of the Father's will, it would only be natural that it would happen as such.

There was also the feeling that had been weighing heavily on his heart, the sense that just like with his own lands, he had to stand and defend the church. He insisted that the sense of duty came to him as a divine will, untainted by greed and ambition.

Or however he managed to convince himself. Ferdinand had always told him that he should learn to find some place quiet and undisturbed to meditate and think about his actions before carrying them out. But His Majesty had always been more logical, approaching all things with cold reason, even when he felt the burning passion of conquest and the urgency of correcting heretics. And even with such a trait, Antonio could not deny what he had done for the Kingdom of Castilla and how he had managed the Kingdom of Aragón, especially given the fact that he had all but been forced to give up the crown he inherited in order to gain the influence of the most influential kingdom in the lands of España.

As his wine glass continued to be filled, the Spaniard finally set aside the goblet, sitting up straight as he looked at Francis. As the way things stood right now, he had not quite expected the man to offer to split Naples with him quite so evenly. For goodness sake, it was only a couple years when they were fighting with all they could, Antonio looking to protect the interests of Naples while Francis sought to possess it. Granted, there was something to be said about how quickly someone could change over time. But even so, he found himself recalling His Majesty's words when they were sitting in the study, discussing the future of the kingdom. "Beware of France and his ambitions, Tonio," he warned, his expression thoughtful as if to recall his own experiences, "be good friends as you may, but it would only be a matter of time when he smothers you in your sleep."

It would be a mere few days when the Prince of Asturias and the Infanta were both married to members of the Hapsburg family in order as a means to solidify the power of the royal family and keep France in check. After all, no sane person would willing jump into a potential two front war by disturbing such a powerful political alliance, though there were a few that still dared.

But those were fools. France must have at least learned from their last spat.

"Half does not sound bad," Antonio said cheerfully, "not a bad deal considering the fact that I would be jumping on board a bit late. Say, you have been standing for so long, please sit down!" He smiled again in reassurance and patted the chair next to him, after all, he always liked when people reassured him that they were in agreement with him. Yet given how Francis acted in the past, Antonio could not help but feel slightly concerned. After all, how would he know that France, no, his king, would willingly concede half the lands to them? The seed of doubt planted in his head, the Spaniard found himself uneasy as he imagined himself putting effort in carrying out the war with the small war chest, full of hope of obtaining recognition for, only to have the wonderful vision pulled out from under him.

Looking up at Francis, his olive green eyes fixed upon the others as he spoke, reached over and placed a hand on Francis's arm. "Say, there is quite a few Italian States to go through until you reach Rome, how about I give you a hand and send my own army as well, coming out of Sicilia?" Antonio suggested thoughtfull. Not only would it help put him on good terms with his neighbor, but it would also help him keep close tabs on Francis as well.

"Oh come on now, Francis, why don't we celebrate this decision? Please drink up," Antonio said with a lopsided grin, holding his cup once more and raising it before downing it all.

---

Notes:
- Sorry it took so long.
- Spain originally agrees to taking over the Italian states when the plan was proposed.
- This thread goes off the basic assumption that Spain does not meet Romano for a while.