The next day, as expected, Francisco, Catalina, his servants, and the new addition from the Spanish Empire were all ready to depart.The boat Ramiro had managed to rent was ordinary—small, even, compared to his usual ship—but considering they only had to cross the Thames and head toward the sea, it was perfectly adequate. The journey was quick, far faster than the long trip from Antioquia to Cartagena. Once again, Francisco found himself learning something new.

He approached the captain, a man from Hamburg who traded between Britain and Hanover.

"So, how close are we to the port of Hanover?" Francisco asked.

The captain gave him a strange look and answered in German, "Well, sir, first we need to move into the Elbe River."

Francisco frowned. "The Elbe River? Aren't we already in the North Sea? Why would we go into a river?"

The captain chuckled softly at the young visitor's confusion—especially since the boy looked German."Excuse me, sir, but before I explain, may I ask where you come from? Your question makes it clear you're not from the German states."

A little embarrassed, Francisco replied, "My mother was from Germany and my father was Spanish. I was born in Spain, but I grew up in the colony of New Granada."

The captain blinked. "And where exactly is this 'New Granada'? Forgive me, but we don't hear much about lands beyond Europe, except for the little that appears in newspapers."

Francisco smiled, pulled out a map—one centered heavily on Spanish territories—and pointed."It's in South America. Here, the northern part of the southern continent."

Surprised, the captain nodded. "Thank you, lad. Since we share a bit of blood, let me explain something—and let me also advise you: in the future, learn about the places you're traveling to before boarding a ship. Someone could take advantage of your innocence—lead you to corsairs, or kidnap you and sell you as a slave."

Francisco frowned. "Slaves? But aren't slaves usually Black people? There are white slaves in the world?"

The captain saw the boy's innocence—and it reminded him of his own son, always full of questions whenever he returned home. His tone softened.

"There are," he said. "Not here in the north—I've never seen it myself—but in the south, in the Mediterranean, they say Ottoman pirates roam the waters. They like to kidnap white people to sell as… toys… to their masters. Those heretics are terrifying."

Francisco, excited by the thought of a new country and misunderstanding the term, asked eagerly,"Heretics? Are they Protestant? No—wait, Hanover and Britain are Protestant. Are they Catholics? Or Jews?"

The captain shook his head, suddenly serious."They're worse. The Turks—savages, some say. There are rumors that their king, the… sultan, I believe, is a demon who cannot live without drinking Christian blood. They say our blood makes them stronger. I even heard from travelers out of Austria that they kidnap Christian infants and grind their bones into gunpowder so they can win against us."

Francisco frowned. Why does this sound familiar?Then he slapped his forehead lightly. Catalina flinched at the sudden movement, so he leaned close and whispered in her ear,"Aren't these the same kinds of rumors the Catholic Church used to tell us about Protestants when we were kids?"

Catalina's eyes widened as she remembered. She nodded."That's right… I remember the priest saying Protestants drowned children to make their heretic churches stronger."

Francisco chuckled, satisfied with the confirmation, and let the matter go for now.

The captain, watching the comfortable closeness between the two, raised an eyebrow and sighed."It's good to see such a loving couple. Are you Spaniards?"

Catalina smiled and answered in excellent German,"Yes, sir. I was raised alongside Francisco, so we can be considered childhood friends."

The old captain brightened."That's good, very good. I wish my son could find a wife as clever as you—already speaking two languages!"

Francisco answered proudly, "She is indeed remarkable. But, captain, could you explain the matter about the river again?"

The old man smacked his own forehead lightly."Right, right—you nearly made me forget. Hanover isn't close to the sea. It's inland, and only a few rivers reach it. Since you're headed to Göttingen, I chose the Elbe River. From there, you'll still need two or three days on the road before you reach the city."

Francisco nodded, finally understanding."I thought the journey ended in Great Britain and from there we'd reach a port… Wait. I heard rumors that the King of Hanover is also the King of Great Britain, right? How can he rule both an island and a landlocked territory?"

The captain chuckled."You're not wrong. They share the same king, yes—but Hanover is practically independent these days. They may have the same monarch, but beyond their position in the Electorate, the territories govern themselves."

Francisco frowned thoughtfully."Autonomy within a larger realm… that's an interesting concept."

He wrote that down among his notes and discoveries.

Throughout the trip, he and the captain developed a surprisingly deep friendship—much to Francisco's delight. It was rare for him to find someone willing to explain everything about the place he was heading toward.

Once they reached Hamburg, Francisco pressed a few extra pesos into the old boatman's hand as thanks for the conversation. With that done, he and Catalina stepped off the boat. Catalina smiled and said,"I'm surprised you didn't know about the Ottomans. They taught us about them in history—Carlos even emphasized the fall of Constantinople and the Crusades."

Francisco chuckled."Honestly, I didn't think that country still existed. So for me, it's like discovering a new one."

Catalina nodded."That's true. And most of what he told us was vague anyway—more rumor than fact."

Francisco shook his head and said seriously,"He still told us two useful things. First, the Ottomans have pirates operating in the Mediterranean. Since one of the routes back to New Granada would take us through Austria and into the Mediterranean, I can already cross that option off. Second, they're at least strong enough to inspire fear across Europe."

Catalina considered this."How big are they?"

Francisco shrugged."I'm not sure. The maps they used to teach us were focused on Spain and its colonies. But it must be a large territory."

After entering Hamburg properly, Francisco went off in search of carriages that could take them toward the city of Hanover. While he searched, he overheard several things that surprised him:

"Hurrah! The French are tearing down the tyranny of their monarchy. Our brothers are doing good work!"

"Some people say we should form our own government too—free from the Empire. A republic of our own!"

Everywhere he went, he heard voices celebrating the French Revolution—an attitude completely different from Great Britain or Portugal, where people spoke only with outrage, contempt, or cautious astonishment. Here, even the newspapers insulted the King of France openly.

Francisco frowned at the contrast, then turned to his companions."You two go look for carriages. Meet me at that inn."

He pointed to a crowded establishment filled with people eating and drinking. The servants nodded and headed off.

Once inside, Francisco ordered some food and signaled a waiter."Excuse me," he said politely, "sorry to bother you, but I'm new to Hamburg. Could I ask you a few questions?"

The waiter looked ready to snap at him—until he noticed the pesos in Francisco's hand. His expression shifted immediately. Hesitating, he sat down at the edge of the bench and muttered,"You can ask—but make it quick. As you can see, I'm busy."

Francisco nodded and handed him the coin. The young man bit it, nodded in approval, and tucked it away."It's like this," Francisco began. "We come from a country that's… wary of the French Revolution. So it surprised us to see people here cheering it, even newspapers insulting the King of France. Why is that?"

Inez, who had followed Francisco through all of Hamburg, frowned deeply. She whispered under her breath, "Barbarians," clearly worried someone might hear her and beat her to death for it.

The waiter gave a small nod."I understand. A lot of outsiders feel the same when they first arrive. You see, Hamburg is a free imperial city—no king rules here. You might call it a republic, though not exactly. We're governed by a senate, or council, mostly made up of our wealthy merchant families. The head of state, the representative to the Holy Roman Empire, is elected by that senate."

Francisco blinked in surprise."So… an oligarchy?"

"That's the word," the waiter said with a half-smile.

Francisco leaned in."I understand the senate part. But… can people really say whatever they want without punishment?"

The waiter's smile widened."That's right. We have something called free press. It lets us write and say whatever we please."

Inez muttered, "This is the cradle of traitors…"

Francisco ignored her. He thanked the waiter and began to eat, though his thoughts were already racing. He was eager—almost desperate—to get away from the Spanish servant so he could write everything down. The last few months had taught him more about government than all his previous years combined, and the excitement of it made his hands tremble slightly over his meal.

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