Time to build stuff. I decide we can save time and money by not building any houses with the fourth wall and instead using only three per building. From all I've gathered, that particular wall has never been of any use in my family history anyway.
The peasants are not happy with my decision. They say they are freezing and that thinking of warm things isn't helping anymore.
Good for me that the English army is on its way to somewhere and passes by the rebel camp. I can concentrate on wasting the tax money instead of worrying about its payers.
In the South, things look fairly sane. England has consolidated its rule in Ireland and isn't in the middle of a civil war for a change.
But in the North, things are a little more wacky. Something smells rotten in there, and it's not (just) the eggs.
My map staring is interrupted by some neverheard Duke wanting to marry my relative Lucinetta. Since that will by the law send her out of my court, I decide to accept just in case. One less relative to plot my downfall.
Things become peaceful indeed and nothing happens for a while. The only amusement around here is seeing the serfs causing pain to each other, so who am I to argue when Riaged asks for my noble permission to beat his rivals up. Maybe I can even sell tickets...
Being the dear leader that I am, I also show grace to my subjects by personally killing an army of bandits, saving the damsel in distress and returning the holy chalice. After that I hit 50 hole-in-ones on my routine golf session and invent gunpowder.
The stupid priests object, saying that's not how it went. I'll have the Bishop discipline them. I have more important matters to attend.
Namely my dear brother who is still ruining my garden by digging holes around my front yard and covering them with sticks. It's time to take care of this the traditional way.
And it turns out...
That throwing hats into dog poo all the time...
Is a really effective way...
...Of making enemies. Abbondio's days are numbered.
Excellent. My machiavellian plan is coming together. Asking my dear brother to come see a dead bird in the sky, his servant Hermessent prepares to give him a flight lesson.
Unfortunately the imbecile thought he really saw a dead bird in the sky and started pointing at it with his hands. There of course was no dead bird in the sky, but soon there was half dead Hermessent on the ground.
After Hermessent has recovered from having 78 % of her body suddenly crushed, I convince her we should try that trick again. What? Of course she accepts. You have to be a little simple to serve a dolt like my brother.
But just as Hermessent was about to push Abbondio over the edge, the moron ducked to admire a ladybug on the ground. By the sound of the splat, I think Hermessent now broke about 22 % of herself. Scratch one from the list.
The sudden decrease in the quality of balcony railings has provoked an investigation of the authorities. I think we should help the officer to understand that he didn't see or hear anything and if he did, he was sleeping.
I can't believe that Hermessent is still alive, let alone willing to try for the third time. But there she is, brandishing a poisonous viper (are there any other kind?) in front of me and hissing through her now toothless mouth and twisted nose: "Hee, hee, plan!"
Abbondio has always been too fond of animals, and specifically their excrements. It finally bit him in the ass. Literally.