The Fall of Portugal: The House of Braganza

Total destruction. All of Miguel's plans were for naught. His armies were defeated, his capital destroyed, his uncle captured, his generals executed. Now, finally, it was his turn. He hadn't made an attempt to resist, when the liberals had finally closed in. Though his mind had been tinctured with the spirit of absolutism, it didn't take a genius to realize that such a mindset was no longer feasible. He'd call for a council of his finest generals. The liberals would close in tomorrow, but he hoped to at least let some people live today.

"You cannot do this! I forbid you to!"

Many of the people at the council could barely understand the procession of events that had just occurred. In thought, one of them, a General Roux, would cup his head in his hands. This would only result in a glare from the rest of the assemblage. Finally, Miguel would speak.

"It is the only way."

All of them had taken a lot in the past few years. Miguel, himself, no longer maintained the beauty of his youth, his face instead coriaceous and tired from the war. His uncle, too, was a coward - he hardly led the Carlists, instead choosing to hide. A real man wouldn't hide. A real man would be on the constant attack. Unfortunately, a real man would die.

The next day, Miguel I of Portugal was shot and killed. The liberals had won.

I had surgery, unfortunately. I'll probably be able to update soon, though.

I'm off bed rest, now.
Expect the next two days to be either a huge succession of updates, or, alternatively, me quitting entirely.

Thanks.
Anyway, yeah, I'm dropping out.