Republic Reborn: Against the Stars and Stripes-Chapter 83: Merciless

"What do we do?"

Señora Alcantara’s face was impossible to draw. She was a pretty lady, and she had proudly flaunted that—wearing thick makeup and the finest dresses of the time. But that day, all of that façade had been torn down. She hadn’t changed her clothes from the day before. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and snot and drool stained her face. She looked like a wounded, wet pup.

I could only imagine how terrible she felt.

At first, she had thought her daughter to be a terrible villain—someone who, out of pettiness, had lightly accused a man of a crime punishable by death.

Now, she must have felt like a terrible mother. Not only had she failed to keep her young daughter away from dishonor, but she had also disregarded the possibility that the girl might have had a reason to behave so outrageously. The false accusation of rape was far from justified... but, to some degree, understandable.

I sat down on the couch beside her and gestured for Dimalanta and Sargento Tolentino to leave the room.

"I don’t know what to feel. I pity the lad... but my daughter... she... she was wronged as well, Heneral," she groaned. "Am I a terrible mother?"

Maybe. But all of this wasn’t entirely her fault.

I scooted closer and hugged her. She leaned into me. She didn’t smell nice.

"My husband... he’ll be terribly angry with me... I don’t know what I’ll tell him," she continued to mumble, her body trembling as she cried.

Then she pulled away and stared at me with wide, fearful eyes. "Don Contreras... if he finds out, he’ll kill us. Do we need to escape? Can you arrange it, Heneral?"

"Calm down, Señora," I said, rubbing her back. "I’ll find a way to deal with Don Contreras. As for your husband... I’m afraid you’ll have to deal with him yourself."

She studied my face, and perhaps, concluding that I meant what I said, she nodded and wiped her eyes.

"But Señora... make sure you speak to no one else about this. I’ll have my men keep their lips sealed."

---

The sun was already high in the sky when I exited the Alcantara residence.

I could still hear whispers about the controversy. More eyes than usual followed me, and neighbors and passersby spontaneously formed gossip rings near the Casa Real.

But peace had been upheld. The town carried on with its daily activities.

That was partly thanks to the strong presence of soldiers posted at every corner. I also had Dimalanta continue training the recruits in the plaza, to give the appearance of bolstered numbers.

When I returned to the Casa Real, the platoon from Balagasan had just come back, further increasing the armed presence.

Colonel Abad greeted me with a salute as I entered.

"Have you been properly briefed about the situation?" I asked, scanning the reception hall for Vicente. Only Mario Nepomucena was present. Vicente was likely with Isabel, continuing her instruction—or in the cell, keeping watch over Severino. "The Contreras lad was caught. Unfortunately, the people of Tabigue got too excited."

Colonel Abad nodded, his expression dark. "Yes, Heneral. I’ve been informed."

He pointed toward the conference room with his chin. "And so has Don Contreras."

I had never felt so unprepared for a confrontation. In truth, I had no idea what to say or do. I’d hoped for at least a few hours to collect my thoughts in peace.

On top of that, I hadn’t had enough sleep. I was so physically and mentally exhausted I felt I might collapse. But heavy is the head that wears the crown. This, too, was part of my duty.

I forced my unwilling legs to move toward the conference room.

The moment the doors opened, I saw his figure. Don Contreras stood with his back turned, seemingly studying the maps I’d mounted beside the chalkboard. No one else was with him, but outside, I recognized the capataz of his sugarcane farm. He had likely come in haste—perhaps even alongside Colonel Abad.

"Have you seen the state of my grandson?" Don Contreras asked before I could even announce myself. Either he had eyes at the back of his head, or I had a distinctive smell—he didn’t even turn away from the maps.

"A regrettable thing, Don Contreras. But you don’t need to worry—Señor Soriano has examined him. He’ll recover," I replied.

His shoulders shook, and I thought he was laughing.

"And if he does recover? What’s the use? You’re going to kill him anyway!" he snapped as he turned around.

I had never seen him cry. I’d always known him as a strong, hard man. But there he was, sniveling, wiping the tears that freely streamed down his cheeks. He looked nearly as distraught as Señora Alcantara. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

It was so unexpected, I didn’t know how to react. Oddly, I found myself slightly afraid of the bizarre sight.

"Kill him? He hasn’t even been tried—"

"But you will kill him," he spat, pointing an accusing finger at me. "He’ll be tried in a tribunal where you will preside, and you won’t give him a fair trial. You’ll condemn him to death because I’m a thorn in your side."

"I wouldn’t be surprised if you manufactured all of this to break me."

He continued shaking his head, then paced around, roughly scratching at his hair. Then he stopped.

"Well, you win, Don Lardizabal," he said, throwing his hands in the air. "Name your price... just let my little Severino go."

Telling him about the señorita’s confession would have been the right thing to do—or at least to remind him that he was getting ahead of himself, getting too frantic. All I had done so far was pressure the principalia into submission, and it must have finally taken its toll on him.

His pitiful state almost urged me to come clean. We were both old men, and I understood his love for his grandson. Here in rural Marinduque, even the toughest and meanest had a soft side for their family.

Or I could do the opposite. Stay quiet about what I heard in the señorita’s room. If it would serve a higher purpose, what was one more sin on my already full list? It would be merciless—especially to the lad—but I had done worse in my past life.

I walked to the table and leaned against the edge, directly staring down at the old man on the other side.

"This is more serious than you think. Your grandson isn’t just accused of assaulting some mere young woman. I don’t know if you’re aware, but Señor Alcantara is the commander of our fledgling navy and captains a gunboat," I said, tapping a finger on the table—the untrimmed nail making a loud clack. "And... Señora Alcantara’s father owns a shipping line in Batangas."

I wasn’t actually sure about the latter. Alcantara had once mentioned he’d married up, and that his father-in-law gifted him the steamship. He hadn’t said the man owned a shipping line—but it was possible. And in the chaos of war, it would be hard to confirm or deny.

"Is there nothing you can do?" Don Contreras asked, seeming to believe me.

"It’ll be difficult, Don Contreras. But there might be something I can try," I said after a pause. "But what are you willing to do for me?"