Ferrante Duway's actions did not meet with much resistance. For Carlos VI, it took less than two months to go from an unfavored chess piece, to king, to a stray dog by the roadside.
Unable to determine whether Cabrera was loyal, and worried about the safety of the Borderlands, Carlos VI chose to flee to the safer north. After all, that was where he had made his start.
Yet when Carlos VI left the mountains, he took almost everyone with him, while the Carlists remaining in the north spent their days stirring up wind and waves, doing nothing decent.
The imagined scene of one call drawing a hundred responses never appeared. Instead, he went from usurper to impostor. On top of that, Carlos VI had usually lived in seclusion, and not many people had seen him.
People had already decided, first impression rooted deep, that Carlos VI was dead, so no matter what evidence he produced, he could not dispel the doubts in their hearts.
Some people lived, yet were already dead; some people died, yet still lived on.
Isabella II, whose reputation had been poor while she reigned, had never dreamed that at this moment, someone would actually raise high the banner of avenging her to fight against the newborn Spanish Republic.
The forces that had originally belonged to Isabella II feared Carlos VI, and feared Ferrante Duway just as much.
The Republicans were still a new thing in Spain, but the Spaniards knew Ferrante Duway.
This provisional president's reputation was hardly good. Even in Isabella II's court, where monsters ran rampant, he counted as a freakish existence.
Heaven knew how this president, who even dared kill a king, would deal with this crowd of traitors. No one wanted to let fate slip from their own hands.
Previously, in