I imagine death is anticlimactic for most people. Maybe even more so for kings. There you are, with your whole life’s confusion and doubt and pain cooming to a head, everyone turning against you for unclear reasons, all your efforts accumulated at last, and you still just sort of… stop. After that, all you get is an image of a mildly sad, grey face, and a sentence or two saying you blew it.
But what happened to everything you’d been working on? How did the people around you cope? Did anyone really notice? I don’t suppose any of that matters. At least King Eryk is given a reason, I suppose. Eryk is you, by the way, assuming you’re playing Yes, Your Grace like I have been. And he probably has more reason to complain than I do.
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