Impotence ran through her blood. Seeing his beloved and knowing that her heart was not beating with love, but with hate.

"What must I do to make you love me?" His voice sounded defeated. He, Napoleon Bonaparte, pleading for a solution. "Tell me. Anything you want. I will give it to you and bring it. I will cross the seas if necessary."

Your watery eyes looked at him. Spanish blood ran through your veins, blood spilled by his French soldiers.

"Leave my country alone." You muttered faintly.