Interesting. When Emma burst in, I was thinking of a scene from a different movie. The scene starts with the line “aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?”
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Oh, also, I am delighted by the return of Pihla. I love that they told her to just be stubborn. When in doubt, play to your strengths!
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Apologies, I think I'm still at least I've update behind.
Wanted to comment on Elsbieta's message, “Tell her: I can put her on the throne.”
To me this reads, "Tell her I can kill Turo for her." I can't imagine another way, realistically. If you have another solution in mind I look forward to seeing it.
Rensslaer
Wanted to comment on Elsbieta's message, “Tell her: I can put her on the throne.”
To me this reads, "Tell her I can kill Turo for her." I can't imagine another way, realistically. If you have another solution in mind I look forward to seeing it.
Rensslaer
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This is further than I expected to go for an AAR, but I wanted to get into the spirit of things...
(It's not bad? Intense licorice flavor plus salt doesn't SOUND appealing but it somehow is.)
Marja's section is over 60k now. Six scenes left to write, hope to be done with the first draft this time next week. Will be back in a day or two to respond to comments.
(It's not bad? Intense licorice flavor plus salt doesn't SOUND appealing but it somehow is.)
Marja's section is over 60k now. Six scenes left to write, hope to be done with the first draft this time next week. Will be back in a day or two to respond to comments.
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Well, I have been one of your silent readers for some weeks as I had to catch up with almost all of the Marja section. Wanted to leave a comment as my schedule is going to conspire against my reading and writing again. Almost leaving this like a bookmark (yes, I know I can leave an electronic version of those too).
Marja has turned out quite differently from where she started and who I thought she was, so there is definitely a character arc here. For some reason, I thought she might be a villain but that quickly changed. You have some excellent villains and Turo is certainly odious.
Looking forward to the next group of chapters as you conclude what you have set up. However, it may be months before I get to them. We will see. Good luck on finishing and good luck on your new book project too.
Marja has turned out quite differently from where she started and who I thought she was, so there is definitely a character arc here. For some reason, I thought she might be a villain but that quickly changed. You have some excellent villains and Turo is certainly odious.
Yes, glad to see Pihla return in a bit of a guest-starring arrangement. She remains one of my favorites. However, also like how you have rounded out your cast of characters in this section.
Looking forward to the next group of chapters as you conclude what you have set up. However, it may be months before I get to them. We will see. Good luck on finishing and good luck on your new book project too.
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Both my wife and I are introverts...and this need for solitude even in the relationship is important.
Ah, but what he is doing IS rebellion...at least Father will think so...
The thought of trying to explain this to my son, who literally cannot lie without severe emotional distress because of how his brain works...
Oh man. Ziggy has a hard row to hoe here.
I think this is a typo? Fate = Face?
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Truth. Always.
One of the awesome things about Pihla...
And sometimes you get true feelings back...though painful ones...
Indeed, a flaw of Risto...if he were wrong, he would never be brave enough to admit it.
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I hope you take it well when you say that I am sad you only have six scenes left. I will miss your AAR.
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Every man has his breaking point...
...and in a way, the King finally heard the truth he claimed he wanted all those years before...
When the truth is obvious, sometimes words are unnecessary...
:'(
No...
Don't seek vengeance!
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I’m finally back to reading after a while and you keep doing excellent work! Also best of luck with the potential book!
Turo is truly such a horrible person and you’ve done an incredible job showing it. Poor Irene, I hope she manages to have a somewhat happy ending after all this is over.
When thinking about Marja’s marriage and Emma I can’t help but think of Paul Atreides and Chani/Irulan. The state needs its part but perhaps there will be a joint retirement for our ladies when the throne is secured and heirs guaranteed.
I’m very excited to see where this plot will go, the coup could be over before Turo knows what’s happening or it could devolve into a river of blood for Suomi
Turo is truly such a horrible person and you’ve done an incredible job showing it. Poor Irene, I hope she manages to have a somewhat happy ending after all this is over.
When thinking about Marja’s marriage and Emma I can’t help but think of Paul Atreides and Chani/Irulan. The state needs its part but perhaps there will be a joint retirement for our ladies when the throne is secured and heirs guaranteed.
I’m very excited to see where this plot will go, the coup could be over before Turo knows what’s happening or it could devolve into a river of blood for Suomi
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The first draft of Marja's story is done! Tops out at just over sixty-six thousand words. It feels very weird (good weird, but weird) to have finished a story this long.
And like I was saying to @Sirdramaticus below--I do keep getting ideas for Asep's story. So stayed tuned, it's not over yet.
There is a character in the next book that would agree with you heartily.
A decent summary of Zygmunt's whole arc, imo.
Wait, is that from that 70s movie by the guy who did THX-1138? I haven't seen it* but I hear good things.
*kidding
It just tickled me to imagine this poor servant trying to explain the reality of the situation to a woman who is totally unwilling to understand.
I think that's what Elsbieta means, certainly. Marja may have a different view on matters.
I'm glad that you're still reading; and have no fear, the AAR will be here when you get back.
That was inspired by the first couple of months that my wife and I were living together, and we had to negotiate the same thing.
Absolutely a typo. Thanks for the heads up.
It's true
I appreciate that! I find that I really want to write Asep's story too, so I'm at least going to start and see how it goes. I wouldn't be surprised if we jumped into part 4 without a break and I worked on the other project on the side. In any case, there are eleven more chapters of Marja left to go.
It's true. He could do a lot of things but given the culture of the time I thought swearing a false oath would be a hard line for him.
That's an interesting comparison. I think that could work but it would require 'Irulan' (Marja's husband) to be comfortable in a role that traditionally men are not expected to be. And of course, Emma is not officially Marja's concubine even now...
And like I was saying to @Sirdramaticus below--I do keep getting ideas for Asep's story. So stayed tuned, it's not over yet.
There is a character in the next book that would agree with you heartily.
A decent summary of Zygmunt's whole arc, imo.
Wait, is that from that 70s movie by the guy who did THX-1138? I haven't seen it* but I hear good things.
*kidding
It just tickled me to imagine this poor servant trying to explain the reality of the situation to a woman who is totally unwilling to understand.
I think that's what Elsbieta means, certainly. Marja may have a different view on matters.
I'm glad that you're still reading; and have no fear, the AAR will be here when you get back.
That was inspired by the first couple of months that my wife and I were living together, and we had to negotiate the same thing.
Absolutely a typo. Thanks for the heads up.
It's true
I appreciate that! I find that I really want to write Asep's story too, so I'm at least going to start and see how it goes. I wouldn't be surprised if we jumped into part 4 without a break and I worked on the other project on the side. In any case, there are eleven more chapters of Marja left to go.
It's true. He could do a lot of things but given the culture of the time I thought swearing a false oath would be a hard line for him.
That's an interesting comparison. I think that could work but it would require 'Irulan' (Marja's husband) to be comfortable in a role that traditionally men are not expected to be. And of course, Emma is not officially Marja's concubine even now...
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This is such a badass scene...but also an immensely sad one.
Well done, in that the juxtaposition of the feelings worked in a way I didn't think they would.
Now THIS is courage...
And again...courage to be true to himself.
Ziggy is grown up.
Oh...nasty bit of justice here.
One can only imagine the horrors the Inquisition might unleash upon Risto...
A central tenant of Christian theology there...it does indeed take a miracle!
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Ulvila, Suomi
September - October, 1180
September - October, 1180
The court began to stir as Elzbieta and Marja walked in, with Irene walking closely behind. Emma shadowed them all, her eyes never leaving the Greek princess. She had watched over Irene this past week with the intensity of a mother bear, and it made Marja love her all the more fiercely.
Otso rose from his throne as they entered, a thunderstruck expression on his face. On the king’s right, Agafana was nervously fiddling with his symbol of Ukko. Duke Ulinninks stood on the other side of him, stony-faced.
The salt merchant Paavo of Haapsalu was standing in the center of the court, but at the king’s reaction he meekly cast a glance behind him. From the look of things, Father had been in the middle of dealing with the question of crooked scales on the riverfront again. It’s a mistake that this takes up so much of the king’s time. Somebody should convince the guildsmen to take this more seriously. Of course, there would be time to consider that after this affair was over.
“Your highness, perhaps we might discuss this in chambers,” Agafana stammered out in a reedy voice.
“There will be no need,” Marja said in a loud voice, designed to carry to the entire room. “My father offers justice to all, regardless of station. He has nothing to hide.” She then met her father’s gaze, quietly daring him to say otherwise. She did not like challenging her father in this way. Based on how he had been silent about Turo’s cruelty thus far, it seemed like the only option.
It was hard to say who Otso was more furious with, her or Elzbieta. He stared daggers at them both for a long moment, before finally sitting back down and stiffly raising a hand to proceed. Unfortunately, Paavo took this as his cue to launch back into his usual tale of woe. The timid little Viro got perhaps three sentences further before the king snapped at him. “Louhi’s frozen teat, man. I will give you thirty gold marks to shut your damned mouth.”
Paavo yelped like a frightened animal and hurried his way out of the court, bowing over and over again as he did so. Otso did not spare him a second glance, turning his glare to the rebellious women in front of him.
Marja might have expected Irene to quail before her father’s look, but she did not. She looked as sharp and implacable as tempered steel as she strode forward and bent down on one knee. “Your majesty,” she said simply, “I have come to petition you for divorce from Prince Turo Virtanen.”
“On what grounds do you seek the dissolution of this marriage?” Otso’s voice was laced with icy formality.
“Deliberate and prolonged cruelty, your majesty.” Irene might have been on one knee, but she spoke as if she were the judge and the king was the accused.
There was a furore among the courtiers after Irene spoke, but Otso raised a fist for silence and the whispers melted away like spring before the sun. Still, Marja could see a few quietly excusing themselves, no doubt spies going to whisper the news to their patrons. Somebody was no doubt here for Turo as well. Good. Let him hear how his crimes have been exposed.
“I would hear your evidence,” the king said.
Irene’s tale was long, and she recited it in exhaustive, painstaking detail. She had dates and time at the ready; and while Elzbieta had worked with her to polish her testimony, most of this came from Irene herself. She had spent the past five years prowling along the edges of her cage, and she knew each inch of it.
The courtiers had generally looked at Irene with skepticism when she began. Most Suomi, male and female alike, believed that a man had the right to chastise his wife, including using a reasonable amount of force. Marja could see their exchanged glances, however, when Irene mentioned how Turo had pushed her down a flight of stairs. By the time she mentioned the choking, the men of the court looked ready to tear Turo limb from limb.
Marja herself was largely silent, but there were a couple of points that she wanted to make sure that her father remembered. “Your highness,” she said as softly as possible, “when my brother pushed you down the stairs, that was just before the winter solstice, yes? Do you remember which year it was?”
Irene nodded. “That’s right. Two weeks before Joulu, I think. The thirty-fifth year of his majesty’s reign, I believe 1176 in the Christian reckoning.”
Marja said nothing else, knowing her father could not fail to grasp the implication. That was the year that they were planning the attack on Västerbotten. Turo had been unwilling to call upon his father-in-law for support during the conflict. Did he put the kingdom at risk because he feared that Theodoros would learn of Irene’s suffering?
The court was still when Irene had finished her story. Otso’s eyes still sparked with fury, but, it seemed, no longer at his daughter. Everybody watched in silence as the king ground his teeth, at a loss for words. As Marja stood there, she began to wonder if perhaps she should have mentioned her belief about Ulavi’s death. And yet, there was so little that she could offer to her father as proof, surely it would only weaken what they did have.
Suddenly, to her astonishment, Duke Ulinninks stepped forward and knelt before the throne. “Your majesty,” he said softly, “I believe that I have knowledge that is relevant to this matter.”
Otso regarded his steward warily, but he could not very well decline to hear the duke’s testimony. “Go on, your grace.”
“Some two years past,” the duke said, his voice holding a slight quaver, “it was reported to me that his highness the Prince was responsible for the death of a young woman, Gyla Ivarsdóttir of Espoo.”
“It was reported?” Her father’s words were hesitant.
“By her father, called Ivar Butcher. He had it from several witnesses.” The duke’s voice was thick with guilt, and it seemed to Marja that he wished that he would crawl out of his own skin and escape into the sea. “I paid this Ivar the weregeld, your majesty, and told no one. It was… an error of judgment.”
Otso’s face was still, but he must have been relieved that Ulinninks decided to take the full weight of the matter upon himself. A king’s man to the last, Marja mused. She would need to keep him close, if–when?–she sat the throne.
The king slumped back upon his throne, lost in thought for what felt like an age. Finally he stood up and looked at Irene.
“Your highness, the throne owes you a great debt. I hereby dissolve your marriage to Turo Virtanen, and offer you free passage back to your father’s lands or anywhere else you might go.” He paused, and then added regretfully, “If there is aught else you require of me, highness…”
Irene’s eyes flashed. “Your majesty, there is nothing you have that I want.”
Otso nodded, absorbing the rebuke, and silently gave her leave to go. She strode out as proudly as she had come in, apparently not wishing to spend one more day in the cold northern lands.
The king waited for her to leave before he continued. “My good duke of Uppland, your penance shall be to bring justice for the woman Gyla Ivarsdóttir. Send men to Espoo to seek out these witnesses, and together we shall hear the truths that they have to offer.” Red-faced, the duke nodded.
Finally, the king looked up and selected a half dozen guardsmen. “You will ride down to Uusimaa with this message. The prince Turo Virtanen is ordered to come before the throne. He will answer these accusations, if he can.”
*****
The prince’s party was making camp by the road along the Dnieper when suddenly one of Turo’s body-servants made a cry of alarm. Bandits, Turo thought immediately, but surely no bandit was not so mad as to attack a half dozen guards armed-and-armored. He walked over to the alarmed servant, but recoiled when he saw the toothless human skull staring lifelessly back at him. For a moment, it almost looked like Ulavi. Miss me, brother?
Turo chastised himself. This was an old battleground, he knew, from back when the first king Otso was pressing his way south from Suomi proper to the Slavic lands. Whoever this dead man was, he perished a hundred years before and could hold no grudge against anybody living. “It’s just a skull,” he said contemptuously, and returned to his conversation with Mielus.
Five minutes later, however, Turo was interrupted a second time by a cry, this time by a pair of guards. “Ukko’s balls, we’re not changing camps.” he snapped, “I don’t care how haunted this wood is.”
“Your highness,” Mielus said in an urgent whisper, “look.”
Turo looked down the road where the duke was pointing, and saw a half dozen spearmen in mail riding south along the river road. As they got closer, he could make the yellow/red flame of the Virtanen insignia. With doubt twisting his stomach, he stepped forward to address them. “What news, goodmen?”
Two of the spearmen exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Finally, one of them spoke reluctantly. “His majesty commands that you appear before him to…”
The man who spoke trailed off, prompting his neighbor to chime in. “To answer a charge of murder, your highness.”
It was all that Turo could do not to send a worried look to Mielus. How had Marja managed to unravel the plot against Ulavi? They had been so careful, so few people were told who had ordered it or even what the whole scheme was. That witch, we should have poisoned her too. He had only hesitated because it would have looked too obvious.
Mielus clamped an urgent hand on Turo’s arm. “Your highness,” he whispered insistently, “we must resist. We cannot allow you to fall into your sister’s power under any circumstances.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Turo hissed. They were evenly matched on paper, but Father’s men were ahorse and his on foot. The risk was too great. Better to roll the dice on his father. Marja might have suspicions, but she can hardly have sufficient proof.
The prince took a step forward. “I will accompany you to see my father,” he said, liking how his voice rang out with authority in the dark woods. “I look forward to demonstrating my innocence before gods and men alike.” Duke Mielus looked at him like he was mad, and then he spat and took a step back.
It was a long and punishing ride back to Ulvila. The royal guard had stripped him of his weapons, giving in return only apologies. Two guards watched him at all times, as if he had some notion to flee into the woods unarmed with winter so close. The guard stopped to sleep only reluctantly, and more for the horses’ sake than his own; and before dawn, Turo would be roused to start the ride once more. It did not escape Turo’s notice that they treated him as a criminal more than a prince.
Turo was truly weary when they arrived back in Ulvila some days later, but any hopes he had of rest were quickly stripped away. In less than a hour, he was deposited, fatigued and saddle-sore, in the council chambers before Father and his council.
Turo scanned the faces of his inquisitors, quickly realizing that he did not have a friend among them. Marja was a treacherous whore, of course, and Elzbieta scarcely better. Agafana was a timid little catamite and Ulinninks an oaf who did whatever Father wished of him. Behind them, his father was prowling around like a restless wolf, his eyes hard and his knuckles white with tension.
“Mielus should be here,” Turo said at last, nodding at the empty chair that the royal marshal usually occupied. He doubted that it would do much good to have a lone voice on his behalf, but it would be easier than this hostile array.
“The guards say that his grace declined to come,” Marja said smoothly. “Is that not correct?” She raised her eyebrows in a show of curiosity, although they both knew the answer.
“Silence,” Father said at last. “Turo Virtanen, you have been accused of the murder of Gyla Ivarsdóttir. Do you have anything to say before we begin to hear from witnesses?”
“Who?”
“You beat the poor thing so hard that her father could scarcely recognize her,” Marja said sharply. “I’m not surprised you can’t remember her, though. You’ve beaten so many women, after all.”
Turo blinked, thinking. A sudden memory came to him: the haze of excessive drink, the bruises on his knuckles, somebody saying, “Your highness, we must get you out of here.” Her? He sat down abruptly, confused. Why was she saying nothing about Ulavi, unless… Unless she couldn’t. Unless she had nothing. She’s riding into battle without a sword, he realized abruptly.
As solemnly as he could, Turo looked up and met his father’s gaze. “You don’t need to call witnesses, Father. I admit it.”
Agafana and Ulinninks shared an uncertain look. Marja’s eyes widened in surprise. It made him want to laugh, but of course now would be the worst time for that.
Otso gave him an uncertain look. “Are you sure about this?”
“I am, Father. I should be responsible for my mistakes. I will happily pay the weregeld in this matter. How much do I owe?” Turo directed an inquiring look at Agafana. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Marja flushed with helpless fury. Choke on it, cunt.
“The weregeld in this case would be… fifteen gold marks,” the tietäjä said after a moment’s thought. The fine for a death was not static, but varied by the rank of the victim–and the rank of the attacker. When a prince killed a whore, it scarcely amounted to anything at all.
“I should have that in my purse,” Turo said amiably. “Is there anything else you need, Father?”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say? Sorry, I killed her, here’s some coin for your trouble?” Marja said suddenly, her face flushed with rage.
“It’s the law,” Turo said to his sister, as evenly as he could. “The law doesn’t change just because you get angry.”
Marja rose half out of her chair as she spoke. “And the others? Ulvhild, Richeza–there were dozens, Turo. And those are just the ones that we know about.”
“I am a man, Marja. With a man’s appetite, a man’s passions.” The rage was gathering within Turo now. He knew he should not speak further, but he could not help himself. “You could never understand. No matter what you do or pretend to do with your plump little milkmaid, you will never understand.”
“Say that again,” Marja said heatedly. “Say that again, and I will geld you, I swear on all the gods I will.”
Don’t you dare tell me what to do, you whore. Turo met his sister’s gaze without fear, and made his lips curl up with a wicked smirk. “Agafana, what’s the weregeld for a fat German healer? I’ve got an itch that needs scratching.”
Otso suddenly stepped forward and struck him in the face, hard enough that Turo could see stars. When the prince looked up again, his father was looming over him.
“You are a wretch,” the king said quietly, with an air of menace. “A wild beast, a cruel and petty thing. For years, I thought you might reform, might become something more than an animal. How wrong I was.
“I remember my grandfather in his darkest days, and you are worse than he by far. You are a stain on the Virtanen name, a disgrace to your mother who bore you. It is my shame that I sired you, my shame that I permitted you to become… this. My shame that I did not see you for what you are. Until now.
“Turo Virtanen, I pronounce you attainted. You, and your children, and your children’s children. You will be stripped of your properties and incomes, stripped of all claims and rights that you might now enjoy. An armed escort will take you to Uusimaa, where you will be permitted to gather your household together. Where you go from there, I care not–but it will not be my kingdom. You have no home in Suomi, not any more.”
Turo stared at his father incredulously. “Attainted? You can’t do that, Father. You don’t have the right to do that, not for…”
His father just stared down at him, his dark eyes implacable. “Regardless, it is done.”
*****
Marja was bone-weary by the time that she returned to her bedchamber. Emma was already abed when she came in, and gave her a weary smile.
They had word that morning that Turo had taken up residence in Norway, relying on the beneficence of a local count. No doubt there were Christian nobles who planned to make use of his claim to make mischief in Suomi, but she was not worried. Her brother was well accomplished at biting the hand that feeds.
He had been correct in a narrow sense: the legal basis for his disinheritance was thin by the traditions of the Suomi court, even if that reflected poorly on Suomi law in her opinion. Marja had never expected the charge itself to sink him. She had hoped, rather, to anger him, enflame his arrogance, and wait for him to say something horrifying. And he had obliged her.
Emma had asked her, later, what Turo had said that sunk him, but she had not wanted to say. Her love had enough nightmares to contend with. Still, keeping her silence did not entirely sit right with her either. We used to talk about anything and everything. When did we start dancing around each other like this?
The biggest sticking point was, of course, Marja’s upcoming nuptials. Otso and Elzbieta were eager to see her wed, as she had expected, and they even had a person in mind: Azur, son of Valdemar. Lady Aime had perished the previous winter trying to bear a stillborn daughter, and the traitor duke was now unmarried once again. The political logic was strong: Azur held vast lands and could raise thousands of men, a useful club against internal rebellions. He could claim royal blood through the male line, which made him a suitable match for a princess. He was also still obliged to the Virtanens in general, and Marja specifically, which would hopefully keep him in check. Marja even found his company tolerable, which was always a benefit to a marriage.
She could not object to any of that. It was sound political logic. But her stomach was twisted into knots from the falsity of the whole arrangement, the return to lies and pretense. She might have found his conversation enjoyable, but she did not trust him and the notion of sharing his bed repulsed her. Before, with Alyok, she had at least been ignorant of what love truly was. Now she was cursed with knowledge.
She thought of the evening where she had first noticed Azur, and began to suspect that he might be of use to the realm. What a fool she had been. If she had only walked away, perhaps… But it seemed to her now that his moody reflections had been correct: their fates were all weaved together from the beginning, and she must follow her thread as he followed his.
Still, she said nothing of this to Emma. Her love was plagued with her own sadness over the marriage, but it seemed to divide them more than pull them together. Their positions were not equal and so their griefs were not either. Someday they would need to discuss this all, arrange how they would comport themselves once the wedding was done. But there never seemed to be the right day, not when it only ripped open the wounds they both felt. Tomorrow, we can talk about it. Tomorrow, not today.
Marja disrobed quietly and slipped into bed, wrapping one arm around Emma protectively. They held each other close, skin against skin. Eventually Emma murmured, “He’s not going to stop.”
“Turo?”
Emma nodded. She had spent a lot of time with Irene, and doubtless that woman’s suffering had reminded her of her own. “There will be others suffering for his humiliation. As long as he lives, there will be.”
The knot in Marja’s stomach pulled tighter. “If it wasn’t for my father…”
Emma gave her a gentle smile. “Rakas, I’m not trying to rebuke you. I just… I hope that we never have cause to regret that mercy.” They held each other in silence for a time, before she added, “Elzbieta came up to me today, as I was leaving for the hospice.”
Marja raised an eyebrow. “She did?”
Emma nodded. “She gave a little greeting and then she said, Marja’s going to need a loyal spymaster. Just like that. She likes to make these little pronouncements, I’ve noticed.”
“What did you say?”
“I asked her why the kings of Suomi all fuck their spymasters,” Emma said with a small smile.
Marja laughed, and it felt like a small release after the tension of the day. “You did not.”
“Of course I didn’t, your cousin is terrifying.” Emma turned her gaze up to the ceiling. “What do you think?”
Marja studied her lover. “I trust you implicitly, rakas, you know that… but would you want that? Creeping around dark alleys, managing agents and daggers in the dark?”
Emma paused for a long time. “I think I would rather see what’s coming than live in ignorance,” she said finally.
“I can’t argue with that,” Marja said.
After a silence, Emma turned to her. “Tell me about your day, rakas.”
Marja snorted. “Are you sure? It was truly boring.”
Emma smiled back. “Try me.”
Marja laid on her back. “I was talking to Father about revising the system of weights and measures for the kingdom.”
“I thought you said it was boring,” Emma said teasingly.
“Well, there’s a lot of competing concerns. Every port in the kingdom has a different system of weights, and no two agree. Some lord-mayors are quite strict about enforcing honesty, but here in Ulvila things have gotten rather lax and it’s giving the city a reputation that we really can’t afford.”
Emma thought for a second. “And the guilds choose the mayor. It was much the same in Strauwing.”
“Father would rather tangle with an angry she-bear than risk the wrath of the guilds,” Marja said with a laugh.
“I suppose it will fall to you, then,” Emma said thoughtfully.
It would fall to her, Marja realized with a jolt, because of course she was now the heir to the throne. She had known that for days now, but the enormity of it had not hit her until this moment. It was overwhelming to imagine that the fanciful dream she had had as a girl was now real and tangible. She had wanted this more than anything, and yet she would not have gotten it were it not for the death of one brother and the cruelty of another.
Before she realized it, Marja was crying, big wrenching sobs. Emma held her tightly, softly stroking her back. She was weeping tears of joy and tears of grief and hot tears of guilt. She had been named the heir, but the cost–oh gods, the cost.
“Ulavi should be here,” she managed at last. “I should not have taken away his throne.”
“I miss him too,” Emma said softly, “but… can you imagine your brother sitting still for a long discussion of guild politics and weights and measures?”
Marja’s next sob was half a laugh. “He would have hated it.”
“Honor your brother. Grieve for him.” Emma’s voice was warm but firm. “But rakas, never feel guilty for wanting this. Never.”
“I promise,” Marja said hesitantly, before repeating herself, “I promise that I won’t.” It was the first time that she had ever lied to Emma.
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Thanks! I'm glad to hear that.
He really is. He had to face all this to really come into his own.
*whistles innocently*
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Irene divorces Toxic Turo! I like it. The whole chapter was exquisite. The dramatic build up, Turo’s disinheritance, and the fallout as the consequences of the choices made take shape.
Is all of this purely of your mind, or did anything happen in the game to bring this about?
Is all of this purely of your mind, or did anything happen in the game to bring this about?
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Only sympathy for the poor victims...
My father told me that if you listen long enough, people will tell you the truth...
Alcohol helps too...
Ah, but WHAT will he do....and is it what Marja actually wants?
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Knowing Turo, he'll probably get himself killed by the count relatively soon. I give it a year...
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Marja shouldn't overplay her hand. Solid evidence is needed so Turo is thrown out.
Of course his mind instantly goes there. This is both a sign of Turo's privilege as a prince, and reminiscent of what Elzbieta said in an earlier chapter: no one thinks of women as important, as relevant.
All the women Turo has killed he's already forgotten.
Yes!
It's a form of punishment that may not account fully for Ulavi's murder, but this will eat at Turo more...
...same with this. Turo will never have a happy day again.
Unfortunately his children will probably be raised with a grudge and taught that vengeance is the only answer. The cycle of violence continues.
Sort of a bittersweet ending here.
Turo is defeated but still alive. Emma and Marja are together, but also facing many struggles. Marja's coming marriage and rulership is a cloud over everything. Ulavi is dead, and as far as the world is concerned his death was completely natural.
I sense many problems in the times ahead.
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I learned this lesson well in a game in CK2 long ago.
My character's second wife had excellent intrigue...and once she had a son, she then went about assassinating my other son's...and then took advantage of my liege calling me on Crusade to take control of my rich lands in Europe for her son while relegating me to a poor county in the Negev desert...
I wonder if we will ever see how she learned this...
It is useful to remember that victims of evil will rejoice in the sufferings of their tormentors...
Always nice to have a character make a mistake that doesn't have too much of a consequence...also, standing up for family!
Missed getting this comment in before...
:'(
A man like this is going to be followed by destruction wherever he goes.
I assume that his comeuppance will occur in the presence of the Sword of Virtanen...or so the pattern from the first two books seems to indicate...
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