sebastiaodebraganca:
Guilherme reminded Sebastião of his mother, of Carlos, of less complicated times. It wasn’t a bad thing, he thought. In fact, there was some comfort in it. But he was not here to dwell on that which they had to grieve over. That was not Sebastião ‘s way. “Well that bodes well for me,” he said, amiably. He leaned back in his chair, as though without a care in the world.
His approach to life had been matched by his cousin’s. It was part of why he had felt so affectionate towards his younger kin. Though a man of 30, there was something younger in his way of greeting the world, an idealistic and untarnished optimism that he should have long lost. “A dreary train of thought,” he mused. “But not entirely inaccurate. We are all at His mercy, after all. Kings and paupers alike.” The hand on his shoulder was familiar, comforting, a little like being a child once more. “But why should we speak of that which we cannot change? We are only torturing ourselves.”
Family was Barcelo’s weakness but it was also his strength, and though Sebastião was a nephew, his attitude and behavior had always been so easy to warm up to. His similarities with Carlos were clear, but it was not on the basis of that alone that Guilherme became fond of him. The young man had an optimistic view of life that amused and comforted the Duke in much the same way that his late wife’s faith had done.
In some ways he wished to protect Sebastião while at the same time stepping aside to wait and listen to his changing views later in life and see how different or alike they took shape to his own.
“Very wise nephew. However, you may have to educate me with politeness on what is in our power to change. Unless... tell me Sebastião, are there things you wish to change?”
