Chapter 3
Oen and Karen Bravia were sitting at home enjoying a dinner and arguing, as they had done a lot recently. Oen had become less and less of a real man recently, and Karen wondered if something was up.
�Can�t you just trust me?� Oen asked.
�Why should I?� Karen said. �Remember, trust must be earned, it cannot be given away to the undeserving.�
�Why do you consider me undeserving?� Oen snapped.
�Need I go through this again?� Karen replied. �You are an unfaithful husband, a coward, and a murderer.�
�How dare you call me such things,� Oen said. �You are my wife, you should obey me.�
�And you are my husband, you should love and cherish and respect me. Yet you do none of those things,� Karen said. �Those who preach morality should live by morality themselves or show themselves condemned by their own standards.�
�Standards are for me to proclaim and others to obey,� Oen said.
�You act as if all women are to accept your force majeure as legitimate and to accept your every word as divine fiat,� Karen said. �Lest you forget, women are human beings too.�
�I still do not understand why you are upset at me,� Oen said.
�You still do not see what you have done wrong?� Karen said in disbelief. �You openly flaunt your dissatisfaction with your marriage by carrying on with floozies in all sorts of bizarre and kinky sex that has become common knowledge in the streets. You are constantly drunk, though you say that no matter how much you drink that you are still sober. You plan killings with the Lues and yet you do not accept responsibility for your actions, thinking that your title of Duke absolves you of any burden of the law. Do you not know that the law is harsher for those who rule than for those who rule?�
�Whose law do you speak of,� Oen said.
�God�s law,� Karen said.
�And when have I killed anyone?� Oen asked smoothly.
�You dissemble well,� Karen said. �I know all about your hits on the local barons who disagreed with your policy of claiming that all baronies without sons or daughters to inherit became a part of the local ducal house, or, in the case of Paz, reverted to viceregal control. And we need not say anything about the case of Miss Meadow Moore.�
�I�ve never killed a soul,� Oen said.
�To order and pay for a hit is the same as pulling the trigger,� Karen said. �Your hands are bloody all the same.�
�Will you let your distrust for me destroy our marriage?� Oen asked.
�What marriage do we have anyway?� Karen asked. �A marriage, like anything else, must be cared for, but you have destroyed ours through your deceit and neglect. Atoms or systems into ruin hurled, and now a bubble burst-and now a world.�
�So what are you proposing,� Oen said. �I believe we should separate. I do not know if I can remain married to someone who only desires marriage to preserve a public face,� Karen said. �I cannot live a lie.� �You are not a politician then,� Oen said.
�Must you blame your lying on politics?� Karen exclaimed. �You are not a liar because you are a politician, you are a politician because you are a liar. You could have been an honest politician, and not had so many estates gotten by ill means, but because you have overweening ambition you cannot accept anyone who gets in your way.�
�You want to separate from me? You are nothing without my support,� Oen said.
�Spare me. I can easily get half of your estates and wealth for my own if I wanted my lawyers to rip you apart. And you forget that my brother is the right hand man of the emperor himself, so it�s not like I would lack for resources there either. If you try to off me your own head will be separated from your body.�
�No one flaunts my will,� Oen said.
�Do you forget I have a will of my own?� Karen said.
�You are saying you want to leave me?� Oen asked.
�Yes, I have no lovers to hide, no need to preserve a public image, but I must act so that my own personal life is better. Remember, if you change your ways we can reconcile, but if not I want to be free on my own,� Karen said.
�You think you can make it alone?� Oen scoffed.
�Of course I can,� Karen said. �What makes you think that I cannot make it by myself?�
�But you have no livelihood,� Oen said.
�I am sure that I could be a skilled manager of my estates,� Karen said. �I am no mere trophy wife. I believe that I could ensure a good living based on my ability to manage a household.�
�Where did you learn that?� Oen asked.
�From managing this household,� Karen replied sternly. �You think money grows on trees? You think that accounts balance by themselves? I have always managed the family finances because you had no sense for keeping ledgers.�
�Excuse me?� Oen said.
�You heard me,� Karen said. �I�ve been managing this household ever since I was a fifteen year old girl. You think my parents wanted my brother or I to be ignorant of the affairs of our houses? We were trained from childhood to keep track of our finances. Through the accident of birth, good luck, or through hard work, wealth is gained, but without diligent care, wealth cannot be preserved.�
�How come you never told me that?� Oen said.
�Why couldn�t you figure it out on your own?� Karen said. �After all, Albright means noble and bright, and even though my father Henry was a crook, he wanted us to keep the money and power he worked so hard to gain. Albright doesn�t mean fool or wastrel, as he was quick to remind me as a child.�
�You still plan on leaving me?� Oen said.
�Yes, I do,� Karen said.
�When do you plan on legally separating from me?� Oen asked.
�I plan on leaving you tomorrow,� Karen said. �For now I will claim the Cork estate as my own. You can keep this one in the city. If you set foot on the Cork estate without due cause, you will be removed from the premises. Before you complain about me usurping your prerogative, remember that the property was deemed to be mine after the rebellion.�
�You strike a hard bargain,� Oen said.
�This is only the beginning,� Karen said. �It is time for you pay the piper for all the songs you have heard for free. It�s also time to play the horn players and the string orchestra as well.�
�What are you saying?� Oen asked, puzzled.
�This is going to get you where it hurts you most, your ego, your reputation, and your pocketbook,� Karen said. �I hope you learn your lesson. You could have been a great man, but you let your ambition get in the way of your sense of right and wrong.�
�Are you saying that ambition is wrong?� Oen asked.
�Of course not. We should all be ambitious to some extent. Remember, though, the definition of poison is too much,� Karen said.
�That makes no sense at all,� Oen said. �How can one have too much ambition.�
�Remember, first comes justice and mercy and love, and then come our own desires and the desires of those we have a fiduciary concern to. Do not even lawyers and tax collectors behave this way?� Karen said bitingly.
�If you want to leave, go now,� Oen said. �Before you enrage me more with your attitude.�
�Fine, I will leave as soon as I can pack my things. I�ll just charge you the moving expenses,� Karen said.
�It is worth the money to get the shrew away,� Oen said.
�Be careful before you burn all your bridges,� Karen said.
�The same to you,� Oen said.
Karen went to pack her items and go to the estate in Cork, and Oen drank another fifth of vodka. Karen could never understand her husband�s taste in potato whiskey. After having seen Natonito get drunk during his first semester of college on the vile fire water, and then avoid it thereafter unless it was mixed with something else, she could not understand how someone would want to drink that vile drink straight.
There were many things that Karen did not understand about Oen. He could be an incredibly charming person when he was well, but he hadn�t been well for a while. He was either insufferably smug or despondent, a bipolar disorder that seemed to be aided by alcohol and perhaps other drugs. She dared not ask for fear she did not want to know what poisons he was putting in his body.
She took all of her clothes and put it into various garment bags and took her own personal supplies with her, ordering the servants to box up her books and send them to her. The servants cried and wished her luck, and some of them got to go with her in the huge personal carrier to Cork. She had her own loyal staff of servants to counteract the treachery of her husband. She still loved him, she just knew she couldn�t be around him. Such was the case in families sometimes.
�Goodbye,� Karen said, leaving.
�Goodbye,� Oen said without emotion.
| Jump to: |
Quick Links: Bobby's Stories | Nathan's Stories | Government | Map | Main