Petunia listlessly directed her eyes at the ceiling, marveling at and disdaining everything around her. She had been distracted recently, understandably so, too preoccupied with dragging herself out of the depressing trench of loss and worrying about her Queen's health to let the surroundings sink in. Now, essentially alone and without any tasks to occupy her attention, Petunia finally had the opportunity to think, to absorb.
She was here, in the Sanctum, within the embrace of the Great Csillacra. No longer was she bound by that smothering environment, the constant aura of death and exhaustion that always seemed to sink into her skin had disappeared. In its place was a light and revitalizing energy. That energy wasn't going to get her to excited, it would never be enough to make her jump or run just for the sake of doing so, but it was so different from what she had considered to be normal that she wasn't quite sure what she should do. Where and how should this energy, this newfound power, be focused?
Aiding Titanyana was the obvious answer, but that still left her wanting for specifics. Cooking and cleaning weren't enough, the Sanctum's staff were already handling the majority of that work. She couldn't exactly teach her anything worth knowing either. Setting aside the fact that Petunia had already taught Titanyana most of what she knew before she left for the academy, what Petunia knew wasn't congruous with the knowledge and customs of the galaxy outside their dying home.
To give an example, the ceiling she found to be the focus of her attention looked nothing like what she was expecting. On the surface it was incredibly basic, an almost featureless series of wooden panels that spanned the entire room. That veneer was stripped away the instant any sort of focus was given to it. A series of patterns were inscribed there, none of them deeper than a strand of hair is thick, sprawled every which way. Petunia couldn't make anything out of them, she didn't expect to, but she still found them beautiful.
That beauty was also the source of her anger.
There was no question in her mind that those inscriptions cost a fortune to make. Those riches could have helped save a few Nekh, and yet they were relegated to mere ceiling panels. That sort of thoughtless resource allocation infuriated her, someone who had no choice to carefully consider the merits and demerits of disposing the skins of vegetables. Even the maids here, people who would normally be considered among the lower classes, had the opportunity to eat more varied and luxurious foods than the Titanyana and her father had. The de facto rulers of an entire planet had lived in squalor when compared to those barely in charge of the broom closet!
Of course, Petunia had a problem when it came to her negative emotions. Namely, she had no outlet. No justified outlet. Try as she might to blame the Sanctum for their extravagance in the face of suffering, she understood that there was little they could have actually done about it. For one, they had been completely clueless about the plight of the Nekh until recently. They couldn't solve problems they didn't know existed, and unfortunately the relative obscurity of the Nekh meant no news had reached them.
There was also the problem of their unique diplomatic position. Petunia didn't know much about the details, she didn't have the mind for politics and foreign relations, but it would be difficult to convince the Sanctum to supply the type of aid they needed. With the policy position of absolute neutrality, aiding them to any significant degree now would mean that the Sanctum would have to provide similar levels of support to those who 'needed' it in the future. Not only would assistance set a precedent, it would break precedent, implying that all previous denials of aid in the past were wrong on account of the Arboreal Maiden recognizing this cause as 'worthy'.
Supposedly the Sanctum was going to provide some help through a sort of back channel, the Terrans, as the Sanctum 'owed' them. This was still taking place in secret, probably for a similarly political motivation, and it didn't seem to amount to much. Any help was appreciated, Petunia only lamented the fact that no more could be supplied. That sentiment held the same for the Holifanians. Thankful for their assistance, but disappointed by how little they could muster.
All of this gratitude and disappointment only made her more skeptical as to how the Terrans, all two of them, planned to transport people on the scale of millions. She had plenty of reason to doubt the assertions of the Holifanians, yet she found she couldn't. Sure, it was preposterous to believe that two people could be capable of transporting millions, but there really wasn't anything she could identify to suggest that they couldn't.
After all, what did she know? She was just the maid of a decaying kingdom, one with little contact with the outside world. There was much she didn't know about this place, so it felt completely reasonable for there to be some key aspect or detail that she had no knowledge of. Donovan and Diana were exemplars of her lack of knowledge, many of the clothes Diana wore and the tools they used were completely foreign to her, both in terms of material and use. What else did they have? What other secrets were they hiding? They may have lost their people and planet, but maybe they had been able to take something along with them. A fleet perhaps? Maybe a technique to move faster? Those would both increase the amount of people they could transport, though she wondered if it would make that much of a difference.
Her vision shifting to the overly gaudy chandelier hanging in the center of the room, Petunia grumbled. Honestly, she felt that it did not fit the subdued tone of the room, ruining the lax atmosphere that would otherwise exist in its absence. There might be other expensive pieces in the room, but they were not expensive for the sake of being expensive. They were pieces designed and constructed to fill a purpose, to make the room look and feel nice. The chandelier was meant to stand out.
The epitomization of her frustrations, the general nobility, could be thought of like that chandelier. They fought tooth and nail for the attention of others, placing themselves above all others as the centerpiece of the room. The resources they wasted would be better suited to other endeavors, such as the salvation of the Nekh, and yet they burn it away. That burning did one good thing though, it shone a light on just how unnecessary their extravagance was. To outsiders, it seemed obvious just how much was being thrown away.
More than just wasting its own potential, it ruined the beauty of that which surrounded it.
"How are you faring?" Gretts took a seat next to Petunia. She started to move her arm in order to hold Petunia's hand, but evidently there was something that made her withdraw. "We can handle some of the chores you have taken if the stress and fatigue is still too great."
"No." Petunia found the staff here to be quite pleasant. She held no grudges about how they lived in relative luxury to her, it wouldn't do anything to help. "I'll be fine."
Petunia could feel Gretts staring into the side of her face, her focus shifting around between her cheek, eye, and ears. Petunia had judged Gretts to be a decent person, though she definitely fell on the scarier side of 'nice'. She reminded Petunia of her predecessor, the head maid she worked under, in terms of both demeanor and wisdom. She couldn't help but wonder, if she had been given more time to learn from her mentor, would she perhaps also have developed to be such a person? Slowly letting go of a deep breath, she purged the notion from her mind. Thinking of home, of the people she had lost, was the last thing she wanted to be doing right now.
"I do not mean to be condescending when I say this, but I truly do not believe the current you to be in a proper state to care for Lady Strapper's needs." Gretts stood up and turned, shuffling a little bit before resuming a seated position on the table. Was it proper? Most certainly not. Gretts just wanted to be in a position where she could look Petunia in the eyes. "You are damaged - physically for sure and most probably mentally - to the point where I believe an extended period of rest to be necessary for your recovery."
Petunia did not respond, though she did maintain eye contact.
"Have you been eating enough?" Petunia nodded. ". . . don't lie to me. Try as you might, I can tell how thin you are even through those clothes. I can understand that you might be used to eating smaller portion sizes, but I will not permit you to starve yourself in solidarity with your kin. If you want to be of assistance to your charge, then you will need to have enough energy stamina to work long hours, that means food."
". . . eating more than I have been makes me sick."
"Does it make you sick, or does it make you uncomfortable?" Gretts crossed her arms, her eyes prying into Petunia's own. "That is an important distinction."
". . . uncomfortable." Petunia decided that while the sensation of a properly filled stomach made her a little dizzy, it didn't really make her want to puke. "I . . . I just can't handle eating that much."
"If what the kitchen staff tells me is true, you eat less in a day than most people eat in a meal. I don't think I need to elaborate on why I find that to be unacceptable, do I?"
Once more Petunia gave her the silent treatment, diverting her eyes from the prosecuting gaze this time around.
"Is there anything specific you would like to eat? If the taste would help you get over the uncomfortable feeling of a full stomach, would you eat? Lady Strapper has made her preference for fish quite apparent."
". . . I would also like some fish."
"Great, tonight's dinner will be a fish focused dish then. Just keep in mind that I will be having you rest for about a week so that you can build up your strength." Petunia's ears twitched indignantly, but she didn't raise any objections. "I should probably take a trip into town, there isn't that much left. I take it you would prefer some form of saltwater fish?"
Petunia nodded. Fish from rivers and lakes tended to taste worse, though she had no idea if that held true elsewhere.
"Anything else? Perhaps a side dish or ingredient you would like to go alongside it?"
". . . a vegetable soup?"
"That can be arranged." Gretts stood up and made her way to the door, stopping before she exited. As Gretts was to her rear, Petunia couldn't see her. She didn't miss her suppressed muttering about an 'eyesore' though. "They should be returning shortly. Take this time to make yourself presentable, should you feel the need."
Petunia waited for Gretts walk away before moving. She needed the time to think. Petunia didn't believe Gretts to be the type of person to speak ill of someone behind their back, but she couldn't help but think that little comment was somehow directed at her. It wasn't, even Petunia could tell it was addressing the same object she had found to be a disgusting addition to the room, however that did little to stifle the thought that she was an eyesore and a waste of space. Petunia hadn't been acting as one of her station should, and it was causing problems for everyone else.
Petunia didn't like it, but she was going to have to take a break. The very notion threatened to make her faint. Petunia's only purpose left in life was to serve Titanyana. If she could not do that, then she was better off dead. Already she was counting on 'getting better' as her motivation to last this next week.
Finished with her episode of moping, Petunia rose to her feet. Despite her care when doing so, she almost fell over, something which only served to further enforce the encroaching sense of inadequacy in Petunia's mind. Once confident that she would not trip over her own feet, Petunia made for the door. She had grown light headed, a combination of her embarrassment and malnourishment, but she could handle it for now. If push came to shove, she understood Titanyana would permit her to rest.
"Petunia?" Titanyana's voice threatened to throw her off balance once more. She hadn't expected to be beaten to the door. "A-are you alright? You look a little pale."
"I'll be fine. I'm just a little tired." Petunia smiled warmly at the gorgeous figure at the end of the hallway. She might be small, but the mightiest of Nekh bloodlines ran through her veins. She was a Strapper, the Strapper now, the sole hope of her people and the leader they would follow into the darkest abyss. Even the most downtrodden and exhausted Nekh could find within themselves the energy to heed her call, and Petunia was no different. "Madam Gretts has suggested that I take the next week off in order to recover and build up my strength. May I be granted such a luxury?"
"Hm?" Petunia had bowed, so she couldn't quite see the face of her charge, but her years of service to the Princess suggested that she was currently tilting her head to the side. "Of course? Why would you need to ask? It isn't like I urgently need you to do something for me." Petunia could not stop her ears from folding back, Titanyana had just pointed out how little she could actually provide her. "I would much rather you be healthy. It hurts to see you suffering so much. . ."
Petunia wished she could just melt after hearing that. The kindness and generosity with which Titanyana treated did not feel earned, she had been nothing more than a tired wreck that could offer little to improve her spirits. How those Terrans had managed to get her up and moving after such a devastating blow was beyond her.
"Thank you." Petunia wanted to cry, but she didn't have the tears to do so anymore. Those had long since been spent on another.
". . . you're welcome?"
Petunia raised her head, confidently believing that their exchange was finished. Much to her surprise, she found that Titanyana was not alone. It really shouldn't have been that shocking, but Titanyana was someone who had been alone for the vast majority of her life.
"Ah, Lord Strauss. Lady Helmsguard." She bowed twice more. "I hope I haven't been causing you any trouble."
"Oh, no, you've been fine." Diana waved away Petunia's concerns, approaching and inspecting her hand. "Hm, a little clammy. It doesn't look like you have a fever though. Have you been getting enough sleep?"
"I believe so."
"Hmm, it must be stress then. I think it would be best if you took this break of yours seriously."
"O-of course."
"Good." Diana released her, continuing past her before stopping once more. "Oh! That's right! Donovan, we had some things we wanted to discuss with Petunia, didn't we? Should we go to the projector room?"
"If you feel that now is a good time." Donovan looked to Petunia, he wasn't addressing Diana.
"Um, I have nothing better to do for the moment."
"Great!" Diana took her arm and led her along. It was subtle, but Petunia didn't miss the fact that she was helping to support her body weight. "We'll get you caught up to speed. Before that we have some questions though."
"H-how convenient." Petunia's silent question to Titanyana was met with a shrug. "I have a few questions of my own."
cakeonfrosting Almost two weeks now since the last chapter, yikes. I'm still working on the 10k favorites gift, give me a bit of time, but the slow uploads might continue for another week or so as I get moved back into college. It's a shame that the mega-campaign didn't really pan out -CK3 kept crashing after I got to about 1.5k alive dynasty members, which meant I was constantly in feuds with about 3 other dynasties at a time. I controlled almost all of Catholic Europe by about the year 1050, which would have made me a little OP for EU4, so I just started my EU4 run as a custom England and console commanded Personal Unions with Portugal, Spain (when it formed I gave it Naples cuz it got the PU event for that), and Brandenburg once I (somehow) became the Holy Roman Emperor. I managed to get the Burgundian Inheritance and ate France in the Angevin Claim on the Throne mission. Thus far I have managed to naturally get unions on Austria-Hungary, The Scandinavian Countries through Denmark, Bohemia, and Russia. I am halfway through the age of Absolutism and own almost all of the new world + Australia, but the game is once again starting to lag hardcore and I have run out of ways to spend my money (1.5k ducats a month). Vic2 is going to be a nightmare with all of these different cultures, even with a 6 diplo monarch and a level 5 diplo advisor I can't culture convert every province.
Petunia listlessly directed her eyes at the ceiling, marveling at and disdaining everything around her. She had been distracted recently, understandably so, too preoccupied with dragging herself out of the depressing trench of loss and worrying about her Queen's health to let the surroundings sink in. Now, essentially alone and without any tasks to occupy her attention, Petunia finally had the opportunity to think, to absorb.
She was here, in the Sanctum, within the embrace of the Great Csillacra. No longer was she bound by that smothering environment, the constant aura of death and exhaustion that always seemed to sink into her skin had disappeared. In its place was a light and revitalizing energy. That energy wasn't going to get her to excited, it would never be enough to make her jump or run just for the sake of doing so, but it was so different from what she had considered to be normal that she wasn't quite sure what she should do. Where and how should this energy, this newfound power, be focused?
Aiding Titanyana was the obvious answer, but that still left her wanting for specifics. Cooking and cleaning weren't enough, the Sanctum's staff were already handling the majority of that work. She couldn't exactly teach her anything worth knowing either. Setting aside the fact that Petunia had already taught Titanyana most of what she knew before she left for the academy, what Petunia knew wasn't congruous with the knowledge and customs of the galaxy outside their dying home.
To give an example, the ceiling she found to be the focus of her attention looked nothing like what she was expecting. On the surface it was incredibly basic, an almost featureless series of wooden panels that spanned the entire room. That veneer was stripped away the instant any sort of focus was given to it. A series of patterns were inscribed there, none of them deeper than a strand of hair is thick, sprawled every which way. Petunia couldn't make anything out of them, she didn't expect to, but she still found them beautiful.
That beauty was also the source of her anger.
There was no question in her mind that those inscriptions cost a fortune to make. Those riches could have helped save a few Nekh, and yet they were relegated to mere ceiling panels. That sort of thoughtless resource allocation infuriated her, someone who had no choice to carefully consider the merits and demerits of disposing the skins of vegetables. Even the maids here, people who would normally be considered among the lower classes, had the opportunity to eat more varied and luxurious foods than the Titanyana and her father had. The de facto rulers of an entire planet had lived in squalor when compared to those barely in charge of the broom closet!
Of course, Petunia had a problem when it came to her negative emotions. Namely, she had no outlet. No justified outlet. Try as she might to blame the Sanctum for their extravagance in the face of suffering, she understood that there was little they could have actually done about it. For one, they had been completely clueless about the plight of the Nekh until recently. They couldn't solve problems they didn't know existed, and unfortunately the relative obscurity of the Nekh meant no news had reached them.
There was also the problem of their unique diplomatic position. Petunia didn't know much about the details, she didn't have the mind for politics and foreign relations, but it would be difficult to convince the Sanctum to supply the type of aid they needed. With the policy position of absolute neutrality, aiding them to any significant degree now would mean that the Sanctum would have to provide similar levels of support to those who 'needed' it in the future. Not only would assistance set a precedent, it would break precedent, implying that all previous denials of aid in the past were wrong on account of the Arboreal Maiden recognizing this cause as 'worthy'.
Supposedly the Sanctum was going to provide some help through a sort of back channel, the Terrans, as the Sanctum 'owed' them. This was still taking place in secret, probably for a similarly political motivation, and it didn't seem to amount to much. Any help was appreciated, Petunia only lamented the fact that no more could be supplied. That sentiment held the same for the Holifanians. Thankful for their assistance, but disappointed by how little they could muster.
All of this gratitude and disappointment only made her more skeptical as to how the Terrans, all two of them, planned to transport people on the scale of millions. She had plenty of reason to doubt the assertions of the Holifanians, yet she found she couldn't. Sure, it was preposterous to believe that two people could be capable of transporting millions, but there really wasn't anything she could identify to suggest that they couldn't.
After all, what did she know? She was just the maid of a decaying kingdom, one with little contact with the outside world. There was much she didn't know about this place, so it felt completely reasonable for there to be some key aspect or detail that she had no knowledge of. Donovan and Diana were exemplars of her lack of knowledge, many of the clothes Diana wore and the tools they used were completely foreign to her, both in terms of material and use. What else did they have? What other secrets were they hiding? They may have lost their people and planet, but maybe they had been able to take something along with them. A fleet perhaps? Maybe a technique to move faster? Those would both increase the amount of people they could transport, though she wondered if it would make that much of a difference.
Her vision shifting to the overly gaudy chandelier hanging in the center of the room, Petunia grumbled. Honestly, she felt that it did not fit the subdued tone of the room, ruining the lax atmosphere that would otherwise exist in its absence. There might be other expensive pieces in the room, but they were not expensive for the sake of being expensive. They were pieces designed and constructed to fill a purpose, to make the room look and feel nice. The chandelier was meant to stand out.
The epitomization of her frustrations, the general nobility, could be thought of like that chandelier. They fought tooth and nail for the attention of others, placing themselves above all others as the centerpiece of the room. The resources they wasted would be better suited to other endeavors, such as the salvation of the Nekh, and yet they burn it away. That burning did one good thing though, it shone a light on just how unnecessary their extravagance was. To outsiders, it seemed obvious just how much was being thrown away.
More than just wasting its own potential, it ruined the beauty of that which surrounded it.
"How are you faring?" Gretts took a seat next to Petunia. She started to move her arm in order to hold Petunia's hand, but evidently there was something that made her withdraw. "We can handle some of the chores you have taken if the stress and fatigue is still too great."
"No." Petunia found the staff here to be quite pleasant. She held no grudges about how they lived in relative luxury to her, it wouldn't do anything to help. "I'll be fine."
Petunia could feel Gretts staring into the side of her face, her focus shifting around between her cheek, eye, and ears. Petunia had judged Gretts to be a decent person, though she definitely fell on the scarier side of 'nice'. She reminded Petunia of her predecessor, the head maid she worked under, in terms of both demeanor and wisdom. She couldn't help but wonder, if she had been given more time to learn from her mentor, would she perhaps also have developed to be such a person? Slowly letting go of a deep breath, she purged the notion from her mind. Thinking of home, of the people she had lost, was the last thing she wanted to be doing right now.
"I do not mean to be condescending when I say this, but I truly do not believe the current you to be in a proper state to care for Lady Strapper's needs." Gretts stood up and turned, shuffling a little bit before resuming a seated position on the table. Was it proper? Most certainly not. Gretts just wanted to be in a position where she could look Petunia in the eyes. "You are damaged - physically for sure and most probably mentally - to the point where I believe an extended period of rest to be necessary for your recovery."
Petunia did not respond, though she did maintain eye contact.
"Have you been eating enough?" Petunia nodded. ". . . don't lie to me. Try as you might, I can tell how thin you are even through those clothes. I can understand that you might be used to eating smaller portion sizes, but I will not permit you to starve yourself in solidarity with your kin. If you want to be of assistance to your charge, then you will need to have enough energy stamina to work long hours, that means food."
". . . eating more than I have been makes me sick."
"Does it make you sick, or does it make you uncomfortable?" Gretts crossed her arms, her eyes prying into Petunia's own. "That is an important distinction."
". . . uncomfortable." Petunia decided that while the sensation of a properly filled stomach made her a little dizzy, it didn't really make her want to puke. "I . . . I just can't handle eating that much."
"If what the kitchen staff tells me is true, you eat less in a day than most people eat in a meal. I don't think I need to elaborate on why I find that to be unacceptable, do I?"
Once more Petunia gave her the silent treatment, diverting her eyes from the prosecuting gaze this time around.
"Is there anything specific you would like to eat? If the taste would help you get over the uncomfortable feeling of a full stomach, would you eat? Lady Strapper has made her preference for fish quite apparent."
". . . I would also like some fish."
"Great, tonight's dinner will be a fish focused dish then. Just keep in mind that I will be having you rest for about a week so that you can build up your strength." Petunia's ears twitched indignantly, but she didn't raise any objections. "I should probably take a trip into town, there isn't that much left. I take it you would prefer some form of saltwater fish?"
Petunia nodded. Fish from rivers and lakes tended to taste worse, though she had no idea if that held true elsewhere.
"Anything else? Perhaps a side dish or ingredient you would like to go alongside it?"
". . . a vegetable soup?"
"That can be arranged." Gretts stood up and made her way to the door, stopping before she exited. As Gretts was to her rear, Petunia couldn't see her. She didn't miss her suppressed muttering about an 'eyesore' though. "They should be returning shortly. Take this time to make yourself presentable, should you feel the need."
Petunia waited for Gretts walk away before moving. She needed the time to think. Petunia didn't believe Gretts to be the type of person to speak ill of someone behind their back, but she couldn't help but think that little comment was somehow directed at her. It wasn't, even Petunia could tell it was addressing the same object she had found to be a disgusting addition to the room, however that did little to stifle the thought that she was an eyesore and a waste of space. Petunia hadn't been acting as one of her station should, and it was causing problems for everyone else.
Petunia didn't like it, but she was going to have to take a break. The very notion threatened to make her faint. Petunia's only purpose left in life was to serve Titanyana. If she could not do that, then she was better off dead. Already she was counting on 'getting better' as her motivation to last this next week.
Finished with her episode of moping, Petunia rose to her feet. Despite her care when doing so, she almost fell over, something which only served to further enforce the encroaching sense of inadequacy in Petunia's mind. Once confident that she would not trip over her own feet, Petunia made for the door. She had grown light headed, a combination of her embarrassment and malnourishment, but she could handle it for now. If push came to shove, she understood Titanyana would permit her to rest.
"Petunia?" Titanyana's voice threatened to throw her off balance once more. She hadn't expected to be beaten to the door. "A-are you alright? You look a little pale."
"I'll be fine. I'm just a little tired." Petunia smiled warmly at the gorgeous figure at the end of the hallway. She might be small, but the mightiest of Nekh bloodlines ran through her veins. She was a Strapper, the Strapper now, the sole hope of her people and the leader they would follow into the darkest abyss. Even the most downtrodden and exhausted Nekh could find within themselves the energy to heed her call, and Petunia was no different. "Madam Gretts has suggested that I take the next week off in order to recover and build up my strength. May I be granted such a luxury?"
"Hm?" Petunia had bowed, so she couldn't quite see the face of her charge, but her years of service to the Princess suggested that she was currently tilting her head to the side. "Of course? Why would you need to ask? It isn't like I urgently need you to do something for me." Petunia could not stop her ears from folding back, Titanyana had just pointed out how little she could actually provide her. "I would much rather you be healthy. It hurts to see you suffering so much. . ."
Petunia wished she could just melt after hearing that. The kindness and generosity with which Titanyana treated did not feel earned, she had been nothing more than a tired wreck that could offer little to improve her spirits. How those Terrans had managed to get her up and moving after such a devastating blow was beyond her.
"Thank you." Petunia wanted to cry, but she didn't have the tears to do so anymore. Those had long since been spent on another.
". . . you're welcome?"
Petunia raised her head, confidently believing that their exchange was finished. Much to her surprise, she found that Titanyana was not alone. It really shouldn't have been that shocking, but Titanyana was someone who had been alone for the vast majority of her life.
"Ah, Lord Strauss. Lady Helmsguard." She bowed twice more. "I hope I haven't been causing you any trouble."
"Oh, no, you've been fine." Diana waved away Petunia's concerns, approaching and inspecting her hand. "Hm, a little clammy. It doesn't look like you have a fever though. Have you been getting enough sleep?"
"I believe so."
"Hmm, it must be stress then. I think it would be best if you took this break of yours seriously."
"O-of course."
"Good." Diana released her, continuing past her before stopping once more. "Oh! That's right! Donovan, we had some things we wanted to discuss with Petunia, didn't we? Should we go to the projector room?"
"If you feel that now is a good time." Donovan looked to Petunia, he wasn't addressing Diana.
"Um, I have nothing better to do for the moment."
"Great!" Diana took her arm and led her along. It was subtle, but Petunia didn't miss the fact that she was helping to support her body weight. "We'll get you caught up to speed. Before that we have some questions though."
"H-how convenient." Petunia's silent question to Titanyana was met with a shrug. "I have a few questions of my own."
cakeonfrosting Almost two weeks now since the last chapter, yikes. I'm still working on the 10k favorites gift, give me a bit of time, but the slow uploads might continue for another week or so as I get moved back into college. It's a shame that the mega-campaign didn't really pan out -CK3 kept crashing after I got to about 1.5k alive dynasty members, which meant I was constantly in feuds with about 3 other dynasties at a time. I controlled almost all of Catholic Europe by about the year 1050, which would have made me a little OP for EU4, so I just started my EU4 run as a custom England and console commanded Personal Unions with Portugal, Spain (when it formed I gave it Naples cuz it got the PU event for that), and Brandenburg once I (somehow) became the Holy Roman Emperor. I managed to get the Burgundian Inheritance and ate France in the Angevin Claim on the Throne mission. Thus far I have managed to naturally get unions on Austria-Hungary, The Scandinavian Countries through Denmark, Bohemia, and Russia. I am halfway through the age of Absolutism and own almost all of the new world + Australia, but the game is once again starting to lag hardcore and I have run out of ways to spend my money (1.5k ducats a month). Vic2 is going to be a nightmare with all of these different cultures, even with a 6 diplo monarch and a level 5 diplo advisor I can't culture convert every province.
