Antonio is angry. That’s all he ever seems to be, lately. Maybe it was the stress, what with the thirty years war still raging on and on, and England constantly hindering his plans and stealing more than just gold from him, it seems. The Spaniard was always on edge... and now this. Another fight about Diogo wanting to leave. Many servants are gathered in the courtyard, watching helplessly.
Grasping the other’s collar roughly, the Spaniard throws Diogo against a courtyard column, knocking debris and dust down from the awning above them. Then, he draws the saber sheathed at his side and points it directly at Diogo, something he had never done before. “Quit saying that! There’s no reason you shouldn’t be happy! Aren’t you grateful for what I’ve done for you?!”
Sword pointed at Diogo’s throat, his loud words continue to be filled with a fiery rage. Anger, bitterness, jealousy, desperation, all are present in his expression, a violent scowl, making him look perhaps a bit deranged. “You just miss your precious Arthur, don’t you? What lies does he write in those letters he sends you? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?!” His head tilts to the side now, faking an understanding look. “How you smile when you read them. So cute!” The younger brunette moves forward quickly to strike the other across the face with his hand, like a snake, then the sword comes right back.
How did it end up like this? Things had been quite nice at the start of their union in 1580, up until Philip II of Portugal died. Now the current Spanish King demands resources and aid from Portugal... and Diogo wants out. Antonio can’t lose him. He won’t.