In which a dowry is settled upon.

["Amit J. Sabnis" <ajsabnis@stanford.edu>]

This log encompasses quite a bit.  First are some rather amusing
pleasantries, followed by a profound bargain struck between Boris and Pers,
and then an intriguing conversation between Ulricke and Andrei.
Unfortunately, I had to leave in the middle of the last bit...nonetheless,
it's well worth the read. : )  Enjoy!

-Pers

====================================================


Garden of Bitterblooms -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

     The roughly circular outline of the vast embassy garden is hidden
beyond a wild tangle of flowers and plants. A stone path snakes from the
outer walls of the embassy grounds, past a chain of lilyponds and hedges, up
to the doors of the embassy itself. Other footpaths stray deeper into the
garden, amid the white bitterblooms of Giedi Prime that lend the garden its
name. One trail leads the way to a gently sloping hill topped by a folly of
Giedi marble columns. Moss-covered stone steps reach up the hill in a
zig-zag pattern, bordered at every turn by marble statues and plascrete urns
overflowing with inkvine and translucent roses. An artful fountain,
fashioned to resemble a natural brook spilling over smooth stones, is set
into the side of the hill.
     A dense profusion of flora from many worlds creates intimate arbors and
bowers where vines and tree boughs are twined together and harbor small
grassy areas or benches. Elacca trees shade the lilyponds where miniature
alligators swim. A stand of Caladanian dogwoods shelter the bloom of
fragrant black lotus. Topiary hedges form living partitions throughout the
garden. A bridle path for horseback riding follows the curve of the
surrounding wall, provided with a variety of terrains ranging from smooth,
grassy field to steep, rocky slopes. The main building of the embassy is
visible through the foliage from almost everywhere in the garden: a squat,
ponderous structure built of white plascrete, with black ribbed buttresses
supporting the weight of the whole structure.

Players:
 Boris                                              Fahahd
 Ulricke
Exits:
 Bridle Path <NW> leads to Shallow Meadow -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)
 Fanmetal Gate <NE> leads to Traffic Loop -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)
 Burnished Doors <S> leads to Giedi Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Boris darkens a moment. "Sometimes I think I will have to kill that boy
myself, Uli."

The grey lump turns an enquiring eye up at Fahd, as if to ask for
permission - which is granted by a nearly imperceptible flick of the guard's
fingers. That taken care of, he ambles at a dignified pace towards the
baron, like a judge heading for his bench. Fahd remains pointedly silent on
the subject of offing Andrei. Don't you throw me in that briar patch, Brer
Fox.

Boris places a hand on the creature's massive head, one big beast to
another. "There's a good fellow, eh?" he says, grinning, patting the
mastiff's head and giving a scratch behind his floppy ear. "A hunter, this
one, Fahahd. Where did you get him?"

A pair of Harkonnen Guards march through the fanmetal gates, accompanying in
the Viscount Pers, himself trailed by two guards in Alvstad livery. The
Harkonnens pause their march several paces before the Baron, leaving Pers to
walk forward as he is announced. "Boris," the old Admiral says in a
surprisingly casual tone of voice. "Good evening." His eyes boast an odd
twinkle as he offers a simple bend at the waist. "Lady Ulricke, you apear as
stunning as always."

The mastiff, an enormous canine covered in a pelt of thick gray fur, leans
into the caress as if trying to tip the Baron over by force of weight alone.
Fahd watches him warily.

Ulricke offers a more florrid bow. "My Lord Viscount, it is as ever a
pleasure. I have drinks ready in the salon, and dinner waiting in the Dining
Hall, at the pleasure of yourself and the Baron my father."

Boris looks up from stroking the hound. "Viscount!" he cries. "Welcome, old
friend, welcome! I trust you're well?"

<<Boris thinks: And not about to declare kanly on account of that idiot
firstborn of mine?>>

"Quite well," Pers answers, his tone still friendly despite a clipped reply.
"Thank you for your offer of hospitality, m'Lady, but the evening is
pleasant enough that I'd suggest taking advantage of the fading light." He
looks down at the mastiff, his gaze slightly curious. "I would not wish to
take the Baron away from such company," he adds with a cool smile, gesturing
towards the beast. "And how do you fare, cousine?"

<<Pers thinks: Beasts of one type or another, isn't it, Baron?>>

Boris tells the Captain, "Fahahd, I think he quite likes me. And I can
certainly feed him better than you can. I'll give you five thousand solaris
for him." To Pers he replies, "I'm well enough, thanks, old friend." He
adds, mock-conspiriatorially, "But my daughter's gone to some trouble to
make you welcome, and I'd suggest you not disappoint her, eh? Never get on
Uli's bad side."

Fahahd just goggles at Boris for a moment. "THat is certainly true, my
lord," he offers, quickly. "But I trained him, and I'm not sure he would
prosper in anyone else's care."

Ulricke interjects, "If the Viscount prefers the crispiness of outdoors, I
certainly can't blame him."

Pers's smile twists into something a bit more rigorous. "Of course, dear
Baron...I'm quite aware of the folly implicit in such actions..." He turns
to Ulricke, raising an eyebrow as he further observes, "...and the fates of
those who take them." His gaze shifts to Fahahd. "Ten thousand solaris says
the creature belongs to the Baron now. Surely such a beast is hardy enough
to prosper under adverse conditions..."

The mastiff takes this opportunity to firmly plant himself on the Baron's
boot, and lean in insistently. Pet me. Love me, or I'll drool all over that
snappy uniform and eat your expensive carpets.

Fahahd says, "My lord, for that amount I could train up several litters to
be keyed to you, personally. Tyr's not worth that much."

Fahahd adds, under his breath, "I'd not be worth that much on the open
market."

"First law of economics," Pers announces loudly, in the tone of someone who
might just launch into a lecture, "is that value is entirely in the eye of
the purchaser." Mercifully, he lets the observation stand alone.

<<Pers thinks: Now let us consider, Baron...do you purchase Caeciliah? Or do
I purchase Andrei?>>

Boris leans forward over the beast. "Oh, come now, Fahahd, you're just being
sentimental. And look! He's quite decided for you where he'd rather be." He
chuckles and gives the animal an affectionate ruffle off his ears. "And
Viscount, your money's no good here, sir."

Ulricke looks between the two older men from her spot, and then quite
serenely whistles, a sweet, beckoning series of soft sounds.

As if he understood Galach, the dog in question gives Boris an affectionate
slobber on the trousers, then heaves himself up to wander over to Uli. Fahd
looks dismayed. He's not supposed to do anything like that without his
handler's express permission.

"Stuff and nonsense, cousine," Pers responds casually. "If my money was no
good here we'd be sharing a stiff drink and discussing the latest idiocies
of the Imperial Court. Instead," some quick footwork places Pers outside of
the hound's path, "...we are about to enjoy the delightful repast the Lady
Ulricke has arranged for."

Ulricke kneels down and begins to pet the dog, expression the epitome of
innocence. Which for Uli, is quite a feat.
Somehow the dog manages to look smug, as he practices his leaning on Uli.
Hah, fooled you all. Fahd is still looking rather stunned, though by now
it's faded into an amused annoyance.

Boris exclaims, "Repast! Of course, of course!" The most dangerous place to
be in all the Universe, worse than Salusa Secundud, worse than storied
Arrakis...is between Boris Harkonnen and his next meal.

He extends an elbow to Ulricke. "Shall we?"

Boris walks to the south and passes through the Burnished Doors.
Boris has left.

You walk through the Burnished Doors.

(...several rooms later...)

Dining Hall -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

     The Dining Hall is large enough to accomodate twenty-five guests
comfortably. The walls are covered with polished pink marble streaked with
black veins where oddly human figures perch on the ornamental cornices:
small gargoyles of carved marble, each grasping a stone kindjal and a
glowglobe. On either side of the grand doors stand white marble pillars.
They are tall, decorative, and exactly alike in every respect, but mirror
images of one another.
     The centerpiece of the dining hall is an immense rectangular table made
of highly burnished black mahogany and ornately carved in a distinctive
motif. High-backed, metal suspensor chairs surround the table. Chandeliers
hang low from rosewood cross-pieces that square off the lofty ceiling. These
three immense fixtures of ornate design cast a flickering light from a
hundred tiny glowglobes.
     Situated in the center of the east wall, a huge oval metaglass window
offers a view of House Harkonnen's private arena.

Players:
 Boris
Exits:
 Metaglass Window leads to Arena -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)
 Embellished Portal <N> leads to Salon -- Harkonnen Embassy (Kaitain)

Fahahd walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.
Fahahd has arrived.
Ulricke walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.
Ulricke has arrived.

The dog's claws click along the glossy marbles of the flooring, as he
patters along behind Ulricke....though he pauses to offer the doorjamb one
of those grave sniffs and nearly trips Fahd in the process.

Boris sits down at the Dining Table.
You sit in one of the iron chairs at the Dining Table.

Boris seats himself at the head of the table, rubbing his hands and eyeing
the carts the slaves are wheeling forth.

Boris tells Pers, "So, my lord. You've spoken with Lord Helmsgillar and he's
given his full blessing for this union, eh?"

"Indeed," Pers replies, his own attention turning for a few moments to the
meal that is about to be presented. Now doubt all this talk of money has
given the good Viscount quite an appetite. "He also agreed that I should
handle negotiations on the matter of dowry given the particular importance
the proposed marriage has." He looks back towards Boris, hands resting
businessman-like on the table in front of him. "Thus, both Alvstad and
Helmsgillar assets are in consideration for this matter."

Boris says expansively, "The benefits to both our houses are considerable,
old friend."

Ulricke maintains polite silence, listening to the conversation.

Pers nods thoughtfully. "I must agree whole-heartedly. As strong as any past
alliance may have been, this marriage will provide substantial
infrastructure. Given the present political atmosphere...this is extremely
desireable."

Fahahd is simply part of the decor, as Tyr flops down at Ulricke's feet with
an aggrieved sigh.

Boris waves a hand. "The present political atmosphere, indeed. It's like a
haze has settled over Kaitain, what with the new LHC lording it about!"

Boris says, "Bloody turnip farmers, and of course the Ginaz and Moritani
liplocked together. Why, in our day, they fought like proper enemies!"

"A disturbing turn of events to be sure," Pers echoes in a stern voice.
"Though what disturbs me most is that two of those Houses are already
bedding the Imperial Family, and Moritani has long done so in all but name."
Well, we certainly know which rumors Pers chooses to believe. "The present
situation is inherently instable...the question at hand is who will engender
its collapse. And, of course, who will pick up the pieces."

Boris lifts his wine goblet. "There are two kinds of people in this galaxy!
The haves and the have-nots. And I, for one, do not plan to be one of the
have-nots! Isn't that right, Uli?

Ulricke murmurs, "Quite right, Father." She seems content to be quiet in
this conversation.

Pers raises his own goblet to the Baron's declaration, calling a hearty,
"Hear hear!" before taking a healthy gulp of it. As expected, Giedi Red.
"Let us then proceed with business, cousine. It is traditional on both our
homeworlds to arrange for a dowry, and given the particular benefits of this
proposal...House Alvstad is prepared to offer a substantial bonus above and
beyond the traditionally set amount. Although...if I may be so bold, I wish
to place a condition upon this exchange."

Boris is about to clink his glass with Pers', but pauses. "Condition?" he
asks, suspiciously.

Ulricke perks just a little. She hasn't heard about this.

"The original purpose of a dowry on Alvsgaard," Pers says by way of answer,
"was to ensure that neither party would be 'out in the cold' should the
marriage come to premature termination. The death rate on our homeworld is,
after all, substantial." He pauses to take another sip of his wine. "In
those cases where the bride was employed in particularly dangerous
circumstances, her Family was granted a provision should her death follow
rapidly on the heels of her marriage. The provision was simple: the groom's
Family chose to either return the dowry, or make a gift of their son to the
(late) bride's Family."

Pers sets his goblet down with a quiet clink. "I have been given reason to
believe that the Lady Caeciliah will be 'employed' in dangerous
circumstances; consquently, I propose the Alvst provision be agreed to in
advance."

Boris glances towards Ulricke, exchanging looks with her.

(OOC) Pers exchanges looks with the parrot on his shoulder. Arrr.

Ulricke's expression remains placid. This isn't her marriage, after all.

Boris makes a show of considering this. "A prudent provision, my lord, but
your people are nothing if not prudent. We'll choose the latter, eh?"

Pers's expression changes little as he accepts this with a fluid nod. "Heard
and witnessed, Baron...that agreed upon, I am fully ready to state the dowry
we are prepared to offer." Casually, he lets drop a figure that would make
poor Siridar-Count Johnston's legs shake with glee, and might even warrant a
salivating stare from the Marquis Ginaz. "To be paid half in solaris, half
in more tangible assets...soostones, melange, the usual assortment."

Andrei walks in from Salon through the Embellished Portal.
Andrei has arrived.

Boris hoists his goblet to Pers' own. "Done!" he cries, as Andrei enters.

Ulricke smiles lowly and raises her goblet, then sips from it demurely.

Pers clangs his goblet noisily against Boris's, a small amount of wine
properly slopping over the sides. "A felicitious day this is, my friend..."
He turns to observe Andrei's arrival, greeting the na-Baron with a sly tip
of his head.

Boris says, "Ah, good evening, lad, good evening. We were just settling the
issue of your dowry!"

Andrei looks around as if he hadn't expected visitors, but noticing Pers he
straightens and bows. "Father....lord Eskilsen..." he walks and gives
ulricke a kiss on the cheek before looking arond for a vacant chair and
soomething to drink. "I'm not interrupting am I?" he asks not in the least
intending to leave if he is.

Boris says, "No, not at all. But you did miss the fun. The Alvst have a bit
of a tradition--seems that if Caeciliah comes to an untimely end, then
you'll have a new home on Alvsgaard. Isn't that quaint, lad?"

Ulricke's eyes watch everyone from over the rim of her cup. She looks
vaguely amused, though remains quiet.

Pers turns his head to catch Andrei's reaction. Perhaps he is a bit too
eager, as a lock or two of his flaxen hair dips before his eyes from the
sudden movement, and he must reach up and push them aside.

Andrei quirks a brow and doesn't look forward to that at all. "I see..." he
manages diplomatically. "But um...In such a case, doesn't the groom'
traditions take precedence?" he asks giving his siter a sidelong glance.

Boris snaps, "This is a business arrangement, lad! Don't get all
sentimental!"

Pers keeps his own council, although the direction of Andrei's glance has
renewed his interest in Ulricke's response to all of this. Amazing how well
she can blend into the background for someone usually so...vivid.

Ulricke notes quietly, "They've already given word-bond to each other,
Andrei. I saw them."

Andrei turns cooly towards his father. "Father...business or not...forms
must be obeyed and i for one will not affront the faufreluches because of
something that is more..profitable..." he retorts. "And I'll go before the
emperor with this if I must...You know his fondness for house Alvstad right
now...and his fondness for our noble family..." slowly he crosses his arms,
glaring at his sister.

Ulricke gives him a helpless look. What's she supposed to do about it?

"Perhaps," Pers says, his cadence and tone even, "the na-Baron should take
leave of his beloved father and sister. Presently." He turns his gray-green
eyes towards Boris, meaning clear: he is not amused by this, and there shall
be consequences.

Boris scoffs, grinning. "The Emperor? You threaten me? He'll have exactly
ten seconds to listen to -your- temper tantrum, boy. Then he'll put your
head on a spike on the Cannon Green. And I'll pack a lunch and have a picnic
there!" He shakes his head as he glances at Pers, darkening. "This -is- the
forms obeyed. The benefits to both our Houses are immeasurable."

Andrei simply stands up from the table, bows towards Pers with the minimum
of respect requested by the forms stating. "In such cae I am afraid that I
will not cooperate in such a match...However if the union and /profit/..."
he makes it sound like gangreen..."is so beneficial for both houes, I am
sure my younger brother will be more than willing to jump at a chance to
finally get out of my shadow and take this union upon himself."

Boris glances towards Pers. "You're sure you couldn't take him -now-, as a
down payment?" he asks, hopefully.

"No precedent, I'm afraid," Pers replies darkly. "At least, not so long as
he is your recognized heir."

Boris hmphs. "Cousine, let's repair to my study to discuss this further,
eh?" he proposes to Pers.

Ulricke eyes Andrei now as if he were quite mad. "You do realize," she
hisses under her breath, "That if Father orders you to marry her, you'll
have no choice? Why are you making it worse for yourself? It's not as if
anything's going to happen to Caeciliah."

Pers nods his head towards the Baron, once and slowly. "A wise suggestion,
Lord Boris," he replies, jaw slightly cocked. "I do believe that stiff drink
we had discussed earlier is in order."

Boris spares a silent glower for Andrei as he rises. Then he shows his teeth
to Pers. "I've a crate of Arrakeen cigars, my friend, rich with this
season's melange," he says, as he leads the Viscount from the hall.

Andrei turns to Ulricke. "I do not mind marrying her one bit...hells..I look
forward to it!" he shoots back at his sister. "But I'm not going to be bound
by some silly rule that binds me to a waterlogged dirtball or get tied down
by Alvstad customs and forsaking our own!" It seems his anger right now has
reached a the old usual levels again before he actually changed for the
better. "Worse! I find it /disgusting/ we would sacrifice all we stand for
for some measly solari."

"An excellent place to start," Pers answers in an almost acidic tone of
voice, quite ignoring the discussion between Ulricke and Andrei as he
follows Boris outside.

Boris looks back at his progeny with a father's 'We'll-Settle-This-LATER'
look. Then the double doors close behind the two Siridars.

[[At this point, Pers and Boris adjourned to the Baron's Study; meanwhile,
Ulricke and Andrei continued their heart-to-heart.]]

Ulricke sinks her hand to her forehead. "Andrei. Stop it." The /now/ part is
added silently.

Ulricke looks across at him. "You're going to marry her." she says in a tone
of steel. "And you're going to agree to the conditions. And I'll tell you
why."

Andrei grumbles and fumes as he finds himself the most potent bottle of
alcohol he can find. Not bothering with a glass he sinks into a chair and
uncorks it with an icepick like dagger. He rolls his eyes as Ulricke starts
again. "Oh please sister dearest, enlighten me why we should bow to those
spineles traders..." he says in a most mocking of tones. "I'm sure you can
without a doubt ../enlighten/ me,"

Ulricke looks at him, eyes gone flat grey. "Because for one thing, in case
you haven't learned on your thirty-something years as a nobleman of the
Landsraad, money is power. Dont' try to make our House into something more
then it is - we are plain dealing villains - we suit action to word, and
word to action. It -is- within the forms, and frankly, if nothing else, it's
a sacrifice you make for your House. I make choices /every day/, Andrei -
not for myself, but for the good of the House. I sacrifice...I let go of
things, things that are important to me that you have no idea of and you
never will - for the good of the house. And if you're so pathetic that you
can't make a sacrifice for the benefit of the House, a sacrifice so
superificial and conditional it's laughable, then you /don't/ act in the
best interests of the House and Father will start reconsidering your
position as heir. And we all know how /that/ will go, don't we?" she then
adds icily, "The truth is, the condition is irrelevant as long as Caeciliah
is alive. So it wouldn't upset you quite so much if you didn't think such a
thing was an inevitability. Planning to kill her, are you? You couldn't have
made /that/ fact crystal clear to the Viscount. And oh by the way, thank you
/ever/ so much for alienating our allies. -Again-."

Andrei rolls his eyes again taking a long swig of the bottle. "Oh Pah-lease
don't bring up that Venhei incident again." he groans. "It was handled and
at the time it wouldn't have mattered what had happened. That pathetic fool
of a Setzer would've found a way to hurt us just because his slut liked me
better than him.

Ulricke says, "Oh, no. Let's not forget the Venhei incident. And the Ginaz
incident. Oh, and let's not forget the times you've alienated the Moritani.
Why don't we just blow aside the fact that diplomatically speaking, you're a
walking disaster that will leave us supportless by the end of the year?"

Ulricke says, "And you're sidestepping."

Andrei quietly puts the bottle on the table. "Ginaz? You mean /I/ get blamed
for that bubblebrain trying to prove she can keep pace with a Harkonnen?" he
shakes his head. "when all she had to do was slap or whip her, but no..she
had to gut the poor child without any coercing or coaxing from any of
us...Ask your precious little Fahahd...he noticed it all." Crossing his arms
firmly he sulks in his chair. "As for being a disaster in diplomacy...face
it sis..if I could jiggle my tits in everyone's face and screw their minds
into knots they didn't even know i existed my successrecord would probably
equal yours...."

"All that matters," she points out, "Is that I /am/ a success,
diplomatically speaking. And you aren't." she narrows her eyes. "Pull
yourself out of your stupid, selfish desires and do what needs to be done
for the good of the House. Put whatever foolish little plot to assassinate
Caeciliah you had out of your mind, take her to wife, and be Baron when
Father passes on. Assuming your antics don't run it to the ground by then."

Andrei blinks. "Assassinating Cae? My god how much semuta have you been
ingesting prior to this meeting?!" he gasps. "Are you out of your skull? I'm
not going to kill off the best thing Alvstad has to offer!" he shakes his
head in disbelief. "Vermillion hells, this marriage didn't come to fruition
because we needed a match but because I asked her to become my wife...If she
were only for fun you really think I would've done that? Don't be daft
Uli...I might be considered spoiled and heartless by some but even /I/ have
my limits."

Going for the bottle again he takes another swig. "But in case you haven't
noticed there was no mention of her demise being at my hand so given the
enemies I have accumulated these last years any lucky shot can banish me to
barfsgaard...or what if she proves weak of health? I bet father forgot about
all those little things having solari on his mind....as usual..."

Ulricke looks at him. "Please," she snarls. "You were overheard plotting to
kill Caeciliah /and/ the Viscount. I'm surprised that he doesn't know about
it, but the fact is, /I/ did. Besides, the agreement states only if her
death is due to unforseen danger. Natural illness will not count, and
frankly, if you can't protect your wife from your enemies, you don't deserve
to be baron."

Andrei blinks. "Overheard plotting their deaths?" he gapes at you. "When?
Who told you?!?" his rage has only increased now. "I /demand/ you tell me
the name of that liar! I swear I'll drag him in front of a truthsayer and
let him repeat those words and after the lie has come out I'll rip his
spleen out with my bare hands and crack his spine in at least 250 different
positions!" he roars. Pounding his fist on the table he demands. "Tell me
his name Uli..NOW!"

"Or you'll what?" she asks softly.

Andrei's eyes turn to slits. "You'll find out sister...You might think me a
bungling fool and feel superior to me, but I warn you not mock me..." He
takes a deep breath, struggling for control of his emotions. "Now...tell me
the name of this liar or dispose of him yourself...if you wish proof drag in
a truthsayer and see if I have ever plotted against my love or her
liegelord...but I assure you I /never/ even considered it, despite the
glorious wealth that would be put at my disposal if I actually would've
gotten away with it..."

Ulricke rolls her eyes. "Please. You can't poison me, I can't poison you,
and we both know who'd win in a physical confrontation." she shrugs. "If
you've never considered it, then you shouldn't care about the stipulation,
should you?"
Long distance to Ulricke: Pers looks back over the email/@mail he received
on the matter. "It was pretty clear. At the conclusion of it, Ravn paged
Andrei and asked for consent to kill him. It was not given, so Ravn had to
content himself with giving me a full report despite Andrei threatening to
kill him if he spoke a word of it."

Andrei seems to have quieted down somewhat. "I tried poisons before...as a
warning sister dearest..and you know back then i succeeded quite nicely..."
Toying with the cork of the bottle he doesn't even look at his sister. "As
for physical..yes..I wondered why you were so protective of the ginaz wench,
but a little pigeon told me what your connection to them was, so
yes...physically I know I couldn't best you....but then...you only mentioned
2 ways in a spectrum of thousands..." he shakes his head. "But this is a
moot point...Fact of the matter. I wish to marry Caeciliah, I do not wish to
kill you, but /not/ at every cost...so if thi i going to take place, then
father better starts putting some more effort in his negotiating..." he
shakes his head again..."me killing Cae...whyif u get the rumourmonger in my
hands..." the rest of the words are drowned out by the bottle.

Ulricke shakes her head. "Yes. You succeeded once. Unlike you, /I/ don't
make the same mistakes twice." she puts a hand on her hip. "Suck it up,
Andrei. Show your willingness to take sacrifice in the name of the House.
Father's given his word-bond on the matter, so as far as he's concerned,
it's marriage under that condition, or no marriage at all. And do not forget
that ultimately, he can order you into the marriage, and you would be
required to obey him. So you might as well do it gracefully and earn
yourself some of Father's rapidly dwindling respect for you back."

Ulricke adds, "It's really no cost to you. If you truely never would dream
of killing Cae, then you have nothing to worry about from the Alvstads
anyway."

Andrei growls and tosses the bottle in a corner, the glass shattering and
sending fragments flying everywhere. the liquid dripping off the walls.
"FINE! Then there will be no wedding!" he all but screams. "I saw his
respect..and his appreciation! I tell you I should've have left him freeze
to death in that cave instead of sending my men into that wilderness to find
him. Did he ever thank me for that? Did he ever say good job Andrei? No..all
is taken for granted...SO /don't/ start on that tone again...I've been on my
best behaviour...I have done my best to grow and improve but what did it buy
me? NOTHING!"

There..the truth finally comes out.

Ulricke looks at him utterly baffled. "Haven't we had this conversation
before, Andrei? You're the /heir/. You're not going to get gold stars and
compliments and pats on the head for doing what you should be doing
/anyway/."

Ulricke then shrugs. "There will be a wedding if he orders it. You'd best
hope he'll indulge your whim... and do not doubt, Andrei - it's a whim.
You're unwilling to make the right choice for your House, don't be surprised
if he strips you of your heirdom."


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