The Red Lioness of Holland

Sorry for the insane delay. I've been working 7 days a week lately (ugh), and I've also been trying to get some work in on my book for NaNoWriMo. But hey, this is writing too, right? I unexpectedly got half a day off today so I managed a post! Hopefully the next one will be MUCH quicker.

A note before I do reader responses and then an update. I've been inconsistent about the anglicization of names (John/Jean, Anthony/Antoine). I've been mostly going with whatever felt right at the time, but its getting worse as introduce new characters. I guess since Jacqueline's name is anglicized, (the proper Dutch would be Jacobine [yah-ko-BEE-ne]), I'll go back and fix the previous chapters at some point. When I first introduce a character, I'll put the ethnic version of their name in parenthesis for reference, but use the anglicized version for the rest of the story.

Ashantai said:

Awesome that you got it mostly the same though. Looking forward to more!

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Thanks It wasn't easy.

JKNUBZ said:

Really glad to hear that this is going to continue.

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Me too ^_^

Chris Taylor said:

Great writing! I am thoroughly enjoying the account of Jacqueline's reign, and look forward to the continuation.

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Hope the next installment pleases you similarly. I'm loving your AAR as well, by the way. Another reader referenced me to it above, you'll see.

Cthulufaic said:

This is an amazing AAR! You deserve to get awesome stuff happen, like a united Italy or a united Scandinavia. I will definitely follow this. Good luck!

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I don't want to spoil anything, but you're getting close with the thought about Scandinavia...

bananafishtoday said:

Just discovered this AAR; absolutely riveting. Couldn't help but grin when Jacqueline announced she'd lead the charge. I'll be following closely.

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Hah, that seems to be everyone's favorite part. It does give a fun mental image, doesn't it?

It would soon later come out that Antoine requested to be brought to Paris, presumably hoping he would find better treatment with the Armagnacs than with his own brother. But his carriage, guarded by Hollander men at arms, had scarcely left the borders of Holland when it came under attack from an unknown party. Antoine was found slain, along with dozens of her own men.

The assassination infuriated Jacqueline. She would not shed a tear for her once betrothed, but she had ordered his release as a show of mercy, hoping the Brabantian nobility would not see her as a tyrant. Now with many people suspecting her of having secretly ordered the killing, her situation worsened dramatically, and the slanderous rumors were only encouraged by Austrian diplomats across Europe. Only with the utmost diplomatic skill would Jacqueline avoid a general Brabantian uprising.

Seeking legitimacy and a way to silence her critics, Jacqueline began a diplomatic offensive. She threw lavish parties for dignitaries, used honeyed words, and if that failed to seal the deal, she turned to her late father's favorite tactic... outright bribery. Even after the ruinous expenses of the War for Hollander Independence, her coffers were still brimming, and trade remained brisk and quite profitable. Gold has a way of adding weight to one's protestations of innocence, and thankfully Jacqueline found herself vindicated in the court of public opinion in the places she needed most.

By 1418, Jacqueline was crowned Duchess of Holland in a ceremony attended by her two most powerful allies, John the Fearless of Burgundy, and Erik VII Gryf, also known as Erik of Pomerania, King of Denmark, Norway and Sweden. Also in attendance were envoys of the regent council for England, after Henry V had died and left his throne to a three year old boy. Austria and several smaller German states issued several insulting letters and protests, citing the fact that Holland had no claim to Brabant's lands, much less to being a Duchy. But Vienna was still being rebuilt after the vicious sacking by the Hungarians, and Armagnacs in Paris remained strangely silent, so no one in Europe seemed likely to challenge the bloc of powers that Jacqueline had engineered to back her claims.

Ruling Brabant proved challenging. In the end, she had been forced to concede on several points, including elevating three Brabantian nobles to her five man council, in an effort to prove her sincerity in integrating them into the duchy rather than ruling over them. She maintained Ser Jan as Captain of the Guard, and she knew her Minister of Finance and Trade must be a Hollander, as the Brabantian nobility was inherently hostile towards the burgers and free trade principles that made Holland so powerful. That left the positions of Spy Master, Minister of Foreign Affairs, and Archbishop all in the hands of her once betrothed's countrymen. A precarious situation indeed.


The events in Friesland also bear some mention at this point. Friesland was theoretically under the control of Holland after the army of John I of Holland (1284 - 1299) defeated the Frieslanders in 1297. But over the 120 years interim, the control had waxed and waned. Jacqueline's father had proven reluctant to intervene in the Friesland Civil War, which only emboldened the eventual victors. By the time Jacqueline reigned in her own name, the Frieslanders didn't even bother to give lip service to Hollander control over their territory.

By 1418, the conflict had more or less petered out. Of the two factions, the Vetkopers, had scattered but not fully defeated their opponents, the Schieringers. They crowned one of the prominent nobles, Sjoerd Wyarda, as their ruler, naming him Count of Friesland, and his wife Claire (Claer) was elevated to the status of Countess. Sjoerd died barely more than a year later, leaving his lands to his only son Conrad (Koenraad), who was only fifteen. The Schieringers began to stir, and armed conflict was threatening to bubble up once more, but in 1420, an uneasy peace still reigned.


November 25th, 1420

Jacqueline walked briskly towards the council chamber, her royal guards flanking her to either side. Time had filled out her girlish frame, and though she was still not tall, her age of nineteen years saw her develop the features of a woman and a monarch.

"Ah, my Duchess... back from Friesland so soon?"

She was surprised to see one of her councilors heading the opposite direction. "Gaspar..." she said by way of greeting, giving the Spymaster a nod.

"How did the negotiations go with the Frieslanders?"

"I'm surprised you haven't heard already," she teased lightly.

He had the grace to give her a mockingly ashamed look. "I would never spy on you, my lady."

A bald faced lie. She spotted the Brabantian man's agents on her heels the entire trip. There was nothing inherently sinister about him keeping tabs on her during the trip... but the Spymaster was something of an enigma to her. She had chosen him because he was the most cunning and trustworthy of a bad lot, yet even after three years, she had not decided how far she could trust him. He was competent enough at his job as far as it went in advancing the Duchy’s interests, but she was confident he held secrets back from her when it suited his needs.

"In any event, Gasper, I'm pleased to report that my mission was successful. Lady Claire was quite accommodating, and has agreed to my marriage proposal with her son, Count Conrad."

She was more than pleased to see the look of genuine shock on her Spy Minister's face. "You said you were going to negotiate a trade agreement..."

"I did, but the subject of marriage came up, and we ended up coming to an accord." It was difficult to prevent an unkind smirk from surfacing.

"Lord van Swieten will... not be pleased." Gaspar looked troubled.

Jacqueline looked like she had tasted sour wine. "Luckily for me then that I am Duchess, and not him."

The short minister's eyes flickered rapidly back and forth at the ground. "Well then, my lady, I must beg your leave. I have no desire to be here when you break that morsel of news, and I am expected in Brussels."

"Another conspiracy against me?" she sighed.

"Men are always faithless, and thusly your loyal Spymaster's work is never done."

"Be gone with you then," she said, not unkindly. "I expect you'll return for the marriage? It will within the month, before the Mass of Christ."

"I shall endeavor," he replied with a tight smile.

He shuffled away in that odd way of his, and Jacqueline made her way into the council chamber with a shake of her head.


"You did WHAT?"

She could feel Ser Jan, at her left, bristle at the outburst. She gazed levelly at the man across the table who had shouted. Lord Roeland van Swieten was not an attractive man. Intimidating once, perhaps, but the years had added many pounds of weight to the once general's frame, and his red face and many chins were little improved by his churlish personality. Jacqueline had brought him onto the council because he had been one of the first Brabantian lords to have openly declared for her, during the closing days of the war. But she had quickly realized his opportunism did not translate into loyalty.

Still, he was far too influential and dangerous to offend by withdrawing the offer of a seat on the council. Reasoning that it was better to keep her enemies close, she had struggled to find a place for him. He had angled to get Ser Jan's job, Master of the Guard, but when she had point blank refused him, he had settled for Minister of Foreign Affairs. The position had been chosen for him by virtue of elimination... there had been only two remaining open seats on the council, and he was only marginally less qualified to be a Spymaster. The man was by no means a diplomat either, though, and Jacqueline frequently went over his head and conducted negotiations by herself, leaving only the most mundane tasks. This was one of those times.

"I agreed with Lady Claire of Friesland that I would marry her son, Count Conrad," she repeated.

He turned so red, she half hoped he would have an aneurysm right there. "Did you hear none of my council regarding your marriage?"

"On the contrary, I heard every word. You believe I need to ensure our protection by marrying the son of a ruler of a strong nation, such as the Burgundians, England, France, Bavaria, or Denmark. Failing that, you wished me to marry a Brabantian noble, to show my sincerity in the joining of our two lands. Someone like... you, perhaps?" She failed to erase all of the disdain from her voice.

He didn't bother to deny it. "You are young yet, and a woman." He complained, as if that was all the explanation needed. "You need a man's strong hand for guidance. I don't deny that I would be a good candidate."

"Strange..." she pondered, tiring of their word games.”I admit I am a woman, but I seemed to do alright without your wisdom when I conquered Brabant out from under you."

The young duchess hadn't thought he could turn a brighter shade of red, yet he did, and looked to throw his wine at her, but the priest in elaborate robes to van Swieten's right raised his hand. "Now now..." Archbishop Fredrick rasped. He was the third of the three Brabantian councilors. An ancient man, nearly eighty, his voice was like dry paper. "We gain nothing by fighting amongst ourselves."

Lord Roeland's eyes shot daggers at the priest. "What do we gain by this marriage?"

The man of the cloth steepled his fingers. "Conrad has no other siblings, so by the grace of God, Lady Jacqueline's and his children will inherit Friesland and add its lands into the Duchy..."

The lord waved his pudgy fingers. "A few docks and a giant marsh filled with frogs and flies. She's traded her chastity away for a beggar’s price."

It took all her restraint not to chuck her own wine at him. "Perhaps, my lord, but it is mine to pledge, and pledge it I have," she said with a resigned finality. "Are there any other issues you wish to discuss?"

He leaned back in his seat heavily. "No. Suddenly I am struck by a great weariness. Will you grant me leave to retire for the evening?"

"Of course."

She watched him struggle out of his chair and waddle away, her heart heavy.

Ashanti, Arakhor, Seek75... thank you each for your kind words. But really, three posts within nine minutes? Spread it out more so I stay up at the top ^_^

I'm kidding, I'll take any comments I can get

bananafishtoday said:

"Perhaps, my lord, but it is mine to pledge, and pledge it I have. Are there any other issues you wish to discuss?"

"No. Suddenly I am struck by a sick burn."

Ooo I love her more every post.

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I have to admit she's one of my favorite characters to write for...

Lastly, a note. Sorry for the lack of pictures. I do prefer to concentrate on the narrative, but I know that huge blocks of text tend to turn people off. Unfortunately, I'm not sure where to locate pictures other than google image search, and that is rarely helpful for my purposes. How some more talented AARers than I turn out the visual masterpieces that they do is beyond me. But we should at least be getting some more gameplay screenshots in the upcoming posts.

Jacqueline had pressed a hard bargain when forging the marriage agreement, knowing that Lady Claire needed Holland's money and troops to retain her seat in Friesland against the building discontent of the Schieringer faction. She had managed to convince Lady Claire that the children of Conrad and her union would retain the von Wittlesbach name. Such agreements were rare, especially since it would mean the extinction of the Wyarda line, but the Wyarda family had only risen to the rank of Count a few years earlier. The von Wittlesbach name carried much greater prestige, and so Lady Claire was convinced at length. It was also agreed that Conrad would live with Jacqueline in Amsterdam until the marriage ceremony.

The next morning was spent giving her betrothed a full tour of Amsterdam. Jacqueline had tried to keep the venture low key, but word spread quickly, and the commoners flocked to see the new royal couple. Conrad was a bookish young man rather than a warrior, his sandy blonde hair denoting his mixed German heritage, but the Hollanders loved him and quickly embraced him as their own. The embarrassed young man smiled and waved to his future subjects as they cheered the royal procession. He even snuck in a chaste peck against Jacqueline's cheek, much to her surprise, and the crowd roared in approval. Nothing was as romantic as a young couple in love.

It was not a love match, in truth, but that wasn't to say that Jacqueline didn't have some feelings for Conrad. She believed that in time, it was possible she could come to love him. He was a calm and pious boy, his features elegant and not displeasing, and he was not given to drinking or brawling. But in her heart of hearts, Jacqueline knew the reason main she had chosen him was that she knew he wouldn't try to rule over her. He preferred books to swords and prayer to politics, so she was confident she would more or less be left to rule Holland her own way.

Still, she smiled easily when she saw him, something she would scarcely believed herself capable of towards a man even a year ago. Something about him set her at ease, even after the horrible experiences with her previous betrothed. It was a good feeling.


But whatever good humor the morning had given her was quickly banished by the note slipped under her door before dinner.

Be careful, my Duchess. Your wedding plans have stirred up the hornets' nest. The lives of your husband to be and yourself are in great danger.

The script was ordinary and nondescript, the paper likewise untelling. She turned it over several times, mulling the possibilities. The method of delivery struck her as strange. Only a few people had access to the wing of the palace where her quarters were, yet the guards reported seeing no one strange.

And why deliver the message to her, rather than her spy master? Unless the message bearer suspected Gaspar himself to be involved...

That night was the first state dinner with her betrothed. It was a lavish affair, but rather than focusing on events at hand, her mind was consumed with plots and counterplots all dinner. She saw several concerned glances thrown her way by both Conrad and Ser Jan, and managed only a few tight smiles in their direction before returning to her brooding.

That evening she summoned them both, and showed them the note. The old knight's reaction was only a grim scowl, but Conrad's eyes went wide with fear. "Who would want to kill us?"

"Possibly someone who wishes to prevent the unification of our lands. Or a person who simply has a grudge against me," the duchess sighed. "There are enough of them. After yesterday, I might have to count Lord van Swieten amongst them." She paused, suddenly worried. "Speaking of him, I didn't spot him at dinner tonight. It’s unlike him to miss a meal."

Ser Jan looked uncomfortable. "He... departed for Breda this morning. A messenger arrived informing him that his wife has fallen ill."

Jacqueline's eyes narrowed. "Why was I not told?"

"It didn't seem of particular import, at least until now," the guard captain confessed. "I fear there is more. I received information from Lord Gaspar that soldiers from Utrecht are raiding our borders."

"Utrecht?" Jacqueline reacted with surprise. "Archbishop Henrick is a close friend and an ally. Why would he..."

"It’s possible that he has lost control of his men. Or not. In any event, I gave General Dirk dispensation to mobilize six of our twelve regiments and guard our borders. They set off this afternoon. I thought haste was best, and since you were indisposed..." He frowned helplessly. "But I fear now that I may have made a grave error."

She chewed her lower lip in a most unlady-like fashion. "No, you did as you thought was best." Gaspar, von Swieten, and now Henrick. Which ones were moving against her? All of them? None of them? She had never felt so helpless and blind.

Her gaze switched between Ser Jan and Conrad. "Ser Jan, make our remaining six regiments ready to march at a moment's notice. Dispense a sizeable bonus to the commanders, in reward for their undying loyalty." In Holland, gold was cheap, and she didn't want to risk any of the commanders being bought off by one of the conspirators. It always helped to remind them who held the purse strings.

"Of course, my lady." He looked uncertain. "Will that be all?"

"Yes. I need a minute with my betrothed, alone."

Ser Jan looked uncertain, but then nodded and departed.

Conrad's eyes were still wide. She felt sympathy for him, to tell the truth. His mother had relentlessly shielded him from the worst parts of the war in Friesland, leaving him poorly equipped for life in tumultuous Amsterdam. This was an ugly baptism into politics.

"Why would they want to kill us?" he asked, shocked. "What are we going to do?"

Jacqueline closed her eyes, remembering her father's lessons. When you cannot decipher the enemy's plans, the best thing to do is something unexpected that will throw them off balance.

She pursed her lips, then gave him a smile. "I think we should get married... tomorrow."

His eyes grew wider yet. "Tomorrow? But... Mother will be furious. The ceremony isn't for another month. We can't..."

Jacqueline had learned to play many roles during her training with her father, but seductive temptress was not one of them. With only her honest feelings and her instincts to guide her, she pulled Conrad in close, pressing her lips against his.

Despite their mutual inexperience, the contact was electric for them both. When Jacqueline finally broke away for air, they were both gasping. Finally, she managed to speak. "Someone wants to prevent us from marrying. What better way to defeat them than to marry before they can put their plans into place?" She batted her eyelashes at him. "Plus, I don't know if I can wait a whole month for us to be together."

Bookish and pious he might be, but Conrad was still a young man, and wise enough to discern her meaning. His blush spread across his cheeks until his face turned bright as a tomato, but he nodded at length, temptation overriding propriety. "Then we won't. I'll find a way to explain it to Mother. Somehow..."

Was hoping for 3 updates in three days, but this one is going to take another night to finish up.

And... (SPOILERS!) for what it's worth Rifal, there is both a wedding AND a war in the next update

UGH! I get a three day weekend to actually get a bunch of writing done, and what do they do? Release Skyrim! So... there goes a huge chunk of time. But don't fear, we have an update!

I know that this post, and the two previous, have been all narrative and no gameplay or war. Never fear! The war begins in our next update!

Viking_Manstein said:

Congratulations! Your AAR has been chosen as this week's "weekly AAR showcase" http://forum.paradoxplaza.com/forum/showthread.php?187634-Weekly-AAR-Showcase-Defiant-untill-death-a-Breton-AAR/page201#post13078043

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Wooo, thank you! I'm really glad to have made an impact on you enough to be your selection. To be honest, I didn't even know that thread existed... now I'm going to have to go through my pile of favorite AARs and compare it to past winners and see who to pass it off to.

Tufto said:

This... is truly excellent stuff. Subscribed.

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Yay! I like the dramatic pause... I was worried you were going to say you hated it ^_^

Avindian said:

Just discovered this thanks to the weekly AAR showcase; nice work on the award, and I like the AAR so far!

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Haha... my publicity is working already!

I'm ashamed to say that although I've been devouring your Tuscany AAR, I haven't posted in the thread yet. I usually wait until I'm done with the whole thing before posting, but I keep getting distracted before getting to the end! I'm loving it though.

Archbishop Fredrick protested strenuously against the impromptu wedding. He pointed out (correctly) that it would be viewed as a huge insult to Archbishop Henrick, who had been invited to officiate the ceremony as a gesture of friendship between Utrecht and Holland. When that failed to dissuade Jacqueline, he complained about the lack of time to prepare, the impropriety of such a short and modest celebration for such an important union, and anything else his elderly mind could think of to complain about. Only upon an outright threat to replace him did he at last concede to marry the young couple.

Organizing the logistics of the ceremony on such short notice consumed the rest of Jacqueline's day, so by the time the evening came about, she was already exhausted and overwhelmed. Perhaps it was for the better, because it didn't give her the chance to grow apprehensive about what was to come.

The ceremony itself was a whirlwind, over all too soon. Only a few hundred managed to arrive in time to attend, mostly the nobility that lived in Amsterdam and its environs, but the ceremony was still dazzling and romantic, the feast afterwards was filled with revelry and cheer. The nobles of Amsterdam grew raucous, proposing over a dozen toasts to their newly wed Duchess and Duke. The celebrations went late into the night, and finally the couple retired from the celebrations with the party still in full swing behind them.


The late morning sun was pouring through the window when Jacqueline finally awoke. Her husband's crop of sandy blond hair rested on the pillow beside her, tickling her nose, and she ruffled it gently without waking him.

She sat up with a wince. The soreness reminded her that the previous night had not been a dream. In truth, her wedding night was nowhere near as painful or scary as she had dreaded. She let her fingers play against her bare stomach, wondering.

The newlywed duchess stood, donning a light gown as she rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes. Breakfast... or perhaps it would be lunch at this hour... was in order.

When the servant arrived to answer her summons, Jacqueline could see fear in her eyes. "My lady..." the young girl started, "the Archbishop is demanding to see you."

"Friedrich?" she replied, barely suppressing a yawn. "Tell him whatever his concerns are, it can wait until we hold council in an hour."

"No, my Lady. Archbishop Henrick."

Jacqueline blasphemed under her breath, her mood spoiled. She knew she had to deal with this sooner or later. "Henrick? He wants to meet here, in my quarters?"

"Yes... he says it is quite urgent."

She sighed. It was terribly improper, but she didn't want to give him further cause to offense by refusing him. "Give me a few minutes to dress, then let him in."


Jacqueline was barely modest, much less dressed to meet a foreign head of state, when the Archbishop came into the room. Conrad was still buttoning up the last few buttons on his shirt, and looked up in surprise.

"You really know how to ruin people's plans, you know that?"

Jacqueline blinked in confusion at him, but Conrad swallowed guiltily at the man's words. "I... I am sorry if we've offended you, Father," he replied diplomatically. "We didn't realize you were so close. Did you have business here in Holland, that you could arrive so quickly?"

"I wasn't close. I've ridden from Utrecht non-stop since I got word of this foolishness. I was hoping that I could prevent it, but..." He deliberately barred the door with a frown, then stalked over alongside Conrad, looming over him imposingly. "Now that you've consummated your marriage, I'm afraid my task becomes much more difficult."

The boy paled, the displeasure of a religious authority having its intended effects. "I'm so sorry, Father. I didn't think that..."

"What... task?" Jacqueline interrupted, her eyes narrowed. Something about his words made it clear that his anger ran deeper than any slight he might have perceived over him not getting to officiate the wedding. "Why was it that your men spotted raiding across our borders?" The man of the cloth's silence was telling as he stared at her levelly. "You wanted to draw my forces away from the capital? Why?"

He let out a breath. "You had it all nearly figured out, didn't you? This is why I had to stop your marriage. You're really quite precocious. You've already grown far stronger than I could allow."

A sense of dread grew. "Conrad, come here..." she beckoned, wanting him away from Henrick.

The boy took a step forward, confused, before Henrick grabbed him. There was a flash of metal, and a blade was out of its sheath. Jacqueline reached forward, a scream on her lips, but the edge had already dug into her husbands neck. His lips made a small gasp of surprise as the metal opened his throat from ear to ear, and brilliant red blood blossomed out of the wound.

Released, Conrad fell like a puppet with its strings cut. The duchess felt a sob leave her as she went to her knees along side him, her fingers futily trying to cover the terrible wound that his lifeblood spilled from. His eyes locked with hers, filled with fear, and the sounds of him vainly trying to draw breath as he drowned in his own blood made his fate plain.

At length, his eyes went glassy, and his arms slumped to the floor. She made no effort at resisting as she felt the Archbishop's hand grabbing her by the hair, hauling her to her feet. "I want you to know..." he intoned quietly, his voice filled with genuine guilt, "that I didn't want things to end up this way. It really is your own fault."

Jacqueline stared at the sanguine stains that coated her hands helplessly before looking up into Henrick's eyes. She blinked away her tears, looking down to see the bloody blade held loosely in his other hand, threatening. "You'll never get away with this."

"No? My men have already put a corpse in the stables outside, a bloody blade in his pocket, and his coin purse filled with a thousand Austrian ducats. I will explain how I found you and your new husband here dying, but was regretfully unable to save either of you. My men will sorrowfully but triumphantly present the assassin's body to your Captain of the Guard within the hour."

Her own breath raged in her chest. "Why are you doing this?"

"God forgive me. It started so simply. I couldn't let Holland and Brabant unify. It was such an easy thing, to set you and Anthony at each other's throats. I thought you'd fight each other to exhaustion... never did I dream that you could triumph over Austria and Brabant so quickly and so thoroughly. Then I hoped to win your trust by betraying Anthony and saving your life. Yet you spurned every attempt that van Swieten and I made to arrange a marriage between you and someone who could control you. And now with your wedding to Conrad, you would surround Utrecht on three sides."

"I would never..."

"Perhaps not..." he cut her off, "But you've already proven your ambition, and your sons may not feel so generous. Lord van Swieten has already demanded Brabant as his price, so that is lost to me, but when the rulers of Holland and Friesland die without an heir, they will look for a strong leader... me, perhaps." He gave her a tight smile. "Please understand. I merely want to restore things to their natural order that you upset. Now lands will return to the Church, and to the Empire. I do not hate you, Jacqueline, but you are too dangerous to let live. Goodbye, my lady."

The Archbishop was not a warrior by trade. His thrust with the knife towards Jacqueline's heart was artless, the effort of a novice. It was also the exact type of attack that her martial training had taught her how to counter so long ago. Muscle memory and desperation fueled her efforts, and her arm parried his attack, clutching at his wrist and trying to tear the weapon away.

The pair fell in a tumble, and the knife bit deeply into Jacqueline's hand as she struggled to keep it away from her chest. Freeflowing blood made it slick, and when she at last freed it from the man's grasp, he lunged at her and landed on her heavily with a grunt.

His attempts to overpower her ceased. Jacqueline was frozen, more or less pinned, but her opponent did not seek to press his advantage. A short period of silence reigned, and he eventually rolled over, the dagger buried in his gut up to its hilt.

The duchess stared at him for a long while, watching him leak crimson fluid in slowing pulses. She crawled over to her assailant, gently pulling the blade from him. Her hands were badly cut, and her fine clothes and the rich carpet were covered in a mixture of blood from Conrad, Henrick and herself.

His words echoed in her ears. It was such an easy thing, to set you and Anthony at each other's throats. Her sense of reality reeled, and her voice sounded so soft and small. "You were the one who ordered the death of my parents."

He closed his eyes, his hands clutched over his stomach wound. His voice was peaceful as he quoted Romans 3:23. "For everyone has sinned. We all fall short of God's glorious standard." The Archbishop let out his last breath. "God forgive me. I am sorry."

For Jacqueline, the world went red.


In the end, it was Ser Jan himself who managed to batter down her barred door. The servants had called for him after hearing her screams. Later, Jacqueline herself would prove unable to remember much of the events of that fateful morning, but Ser Jan found her catatonic, laying over the body of the Archbishop, the knife clutched tightly in her hands. His body was found to have over a dozen stab wounds inflicted over his chest and face.