"This is ridiculous..."
Republican lawmakers looked sullen, their faces shadowed with frustration. For two hours, dozens of lawmakers attacked the crown prince's proposals, but the 15-year-old prince refuted each argument with a sharp tongue and unshakable confidence.
"You're weaker than I thought," the crown prince said, his voice laced with subtle derision. "When I debated Agustín I, it took me four hours to win against him."
Though his remark held a touch of humor, it was laced with cold reality. He had once held his ground against divine beings, after all. These lawmakers were amateurs by comparison.
"In the first place," he continued, "you're opposing for the sake of opposing. There's no solid foundation to your arguments." His tone was decisive, cutting through the room like a knife.
Caught off guard by the sheer audacity and composure of the young crown prince, the Republican lawmakers faltered. His surprise attack had left them scrambling, and the balance of power in the room tilted heavily in his favor.
After a long and awkward silence, Agustín I finally spoke, his commanding presence further silencing the room.
"I don't think there's anything more to say," he said. "We've heard enough."
Conservative lawmakers, who had remained passive spectators, seized the moment to voice their agreement.
"Yes, that's right," one of them declared. "We shouldn't waste any more time. Let's vote."
"Exactly. These baseless interruptions have gone on long enough," another chimed in.
The crown prince watched their sudden show of loyalty with a faint smirk. Tsk. They've been silent this entire time, and now they're scrambling to curry favor.
Despite his distaste for these opportunists, Agustín I capitalized on their support. His sharp gaze locked onto Rafael Manhino, the head of parliament, who was visibly trembling under the emperor's intense scrutiny.
"Chairman Rafael Manhino," Agustín I began, his tone like iron, "call the vote immediately. If you allow any more pointless accusations, I will be forced to question your intentions. A member of Congress obstructing the will of the people for political greed is no small matter."
Caught between the emperor's demand and the crown prince's unwavering authority, Chairman Rafael finally relented.
"...We will vote now," he muttered, his voice barely audible.
***
The vote passed with overwhelming support. Trapped between the emperor's influence and the overwhelming will of the people, the Republican lawmakers had no choice but to comply.
As soon as the outcome was declared, Agustín I and the crown prince left the parliament chamber. They quickly reviewed the property inventories compiled by their loyal retinues.
"Twenty percent of Mexico's land? Is this accurate?" the crown prince asked, scanning the documents with a furrowed brow.
Major General Fernando nodded. "Yes, Your Highness. This figure excludes unexplored territories and the wastelands of the north. It's a sharp decline from the original estimate. Initially, peninsulares owned approximately 40% of Mexico's land. But during the War of Independence, fearing for their safety and uncertain about the outcome, many sold off their properties at bargain prices. Their holdings dropped to around 20%."
The crown prince's eyes narrowed. "I see. So, even those who held vast estates had no choice but to flee or sell."
"Exactly," Major General Fernando replied. "However, the Puebla region still holds a significant concentration of these properties. Many landowners refused to sell their estates at a loss, even as the political landscape shifted beneath them."
Agustín I, standing nearby, chuckled. "Of course. The lands in Puebla are some of the best in Mexico. Parting with them must have felt like cutting off a limb."
The crown prince's expression hardened with determination. "Father, I'm going to Puebla."
Agustín I raised an eyebrow. "You?"
"Yes," the prince replied firmly. "The wealth concentrated in Puebla is well-known. With so many displaced landowners, it's inevitable that opportunists—military commanders, regional elites, and corrupt officials—will try to seize what they can. Someone with sufficient authority must oversee the operation and ensure order is maintained."
Agustín I frowned. "It's too dangerous. I can send Fernando."
"Fernando is capable," the prince admitted, "but Puebla is a wealthy and volatile region. Many of the commanders there outrank a major general. I'll bring troops with me. It won't be too dangerous."
The emperor hesitated, torn between his protective instincts and the undeniable logic of his son's argument. Finally, he relented.
"Fine. But if there's any sign of armed conflict, you must evacuate immediately."
"Understood," the prince replied with a resolute nod.
***
The journey to Puebla was grueling. Though it appeared close on the map, the region lay over 100 kilometers away, a distance that felt insurmountable when traveling on horseback.
"I'm going to die," the crown prince muttered under his breath, adjusting his uncomfortable ceremonial attire. Despite the urgency of the operation, protocol demanded he maintain a regal appearance, even on the road.
After three days of marching, the prince and his entourage finally arrived at their first target: the sprawling estate of Don Sebastián.
Don Sebastián's property was a testament to the immense wealth once held by the peninsulares. Spanning 50,000 hectares, the plantation produced wheat, corn, sugarcane, and wine. It even boasted a silver mine.
"Fifty thousand hectares," the prince mused as he surveyed the estate from a distance. "Even a man as wealthy as Sebastián couldn't withstand the tide of political upheaval."
Accompanied by 500 soldiers, the prince and Major General Fernando approached the estate. Though their force was small, it represented a significant portion of Mexico's central army, which numbered less than 20,000 men at the time.
Their first destination was the warehouse district, but as they drew closer, the prince's sharp eyes noticed something unusual.
"There's activity up ahead," Major General Fernando remarked. "It's an army."
True to his words, soldiers in uniform were busily moving in the distance.
"Damn," the prince muttered. "They're already here."
As they approached, the opposing force's commander stepped forward. A stern-looking man with a grizzled beard, he identified himself as Lieutenant General Javier Paredes, commander of Puebla's defense forces.
"I'll take charge of this property and send its contents to Mexico City," Paredes declared. "You're free to move on to another estate."
Major General Fernando's expression darkened. "This property is being confiscated under direct orders from His Majesty the Emperor. We're not leaving."
Tension crackled in the air as the two commanders faced off. Seeing the escalating conflict, the crown prince stepped forward.
"I am Agustín Geronimo Iturbide, Crown Prince of Mexico," he announced loudly, ensuring all soldiers could hear. "Disarm your men immediately and surrender."
Lieutenant General Javier's face twisted with fury. "Your Highness cannot interfere in military operations!"
"This is not a military operation," the prince countered. "You're acting without orders, leading an army to plunder this estate for personal gain. That's treason. Surrender now."
But Javier was not a man of reason. With a growl, he shouted, "Fire!"
Chaos erupted as both sides exchanged volleys of musket fire. The prince, caught off guard, quickly sought cover behind a cart. Soldiers on both sides fell, the air thick with smoke and the acrid stench of gunpowder.
"Your Highness, retreat to the rear!" Major General Fernando shouted, shielding the prince as they moved to safety.
The situation was dire. Though better armed, the prince's forces were outnumbered, and casualties were mounting.
Then the prince remembered the cannons they had brought. Spotting the bronze artillery pieces in the rear, he hurried over.
"Lieutenant Manuel!" he called out. "Bring the cannons forward!"
Together, they positioned the artillery on a nearby hill, carefully aligning the barrels to target the enemy command post.
"Fire!" the prince commanded.
With a deafening roar, the cannonballs hurtled through the air, striking the enemy command center with devastating precision. Lieutenant General Javier was killed instantly, his body reduced to a mangled heap.
The sight of their commander's death shattered the morale of Javier's troops. Within moments, the enemy forces surrendered.
***
The aftermath of the battle was grim. Thirty of the prince's soldiers had been killed, with another seventy wounded. The opposing side fared far worse, with over ninety dead and 140 wounded.
Despite the heavy losses, the prince wasted no time. The confiscation of Don Sebastián's property began immediately.
The warehouses were a treasure trove of resources: grain, silver ore, fine wine, and more. However, the sheer scale of the estate posed logistical challenges. There weren't enough carts or horses to transport everything. Soldiers had to construct makeshift carts on-site and even pull some by hand.
"Leave the farm equipment and seeds behind," the prince instructed. "The government will need them to keep these farms operational."
For three days, the prince worked tirelessly to oversee the recovery operation. By the time they prepared to return to Mexico City, he had not only secured vast amounts of wealth but also cemented his reputation as a decisive and capable leader—one who could wield both authority and strategy in equal measure.