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i_read_whatSo last time, Hart reached Solinde and immediately decided to skip out on any kind of orientation to go play a game. Which wouldn't be so bad, maybe, if he didn't decide on the most Solindish tavern in town.
So, we rejoin Hart, who's still laughing. If you recall, he'd drawn the death card. Which means he is supposed to die now. Because he's an idiot who had to gamble with people who hate him and not like literally anywhere else in the country.
On the plus side, it is getting to Dar:
"Did you think I jested?" Dar inquired in an elegantly dangerous tone of voice. "Did you think, when I spoke of your death as the stakes of the game, I meant nothing of what I said?"
"Oh, I know you meant it," Hart answered, smiling.
"I can smell the stink on all of you, this desire for my death." Again he stirred the coins, admiring their patina in the candlelight. Still he smiled a little, but mostly to himself; he preferred not to provoke the Solindishman further, and yet a part of him did not care. He met Dar's eyes and shrugged. "But I have learned that even a life may be purchased—or bought back—when the loser is wealthy enough." He paused. "Or has other means to force it."
I think maybe this gets into the heart of why I find Hart so irritating. It's not necessarily the addiction, though I wish we'd see him at least TRY to deal with it in ways that aren't immediately so fucking stupid. It's that he's so flippant about anything resembling consequence.
I get that these characters are princes. I get that they come from a massive amount of privilege. But Hart just seems to revel in it. He's rich, so he can buy his way out. He's Cheysuli, so he can fly out.
As we see, when Dar tells him there are three men with knives behind him:
Hart shrugged, shaking his head. "It makes no difference. The force I speak of has nothing to do with weapons."
"Mine does." Dar touched the hilt of his knife with a single eloquent finger.
Hart laughed. "Effective against a man, perhaps, but what about a hawk?"
"I think—“ But Dar stopped short, interrupting himself. He looked at Hart in silence a long moment. And then, though his expression did not change, the tone of his voice altered perceptibly. "Cheysuli," he said flatly.
"Aye," Hart agreed.
Obviously I don't think Hart should lose his life over this bullshit, (and really, how stupid ARE these people? They're a conquered nation, with a regent in the capitol, and their conquering nation isn't fighting any other war to occupy them. Niall's a nice guy, but do they really think he'll be fine with them murdering his son?), but has he ever had to face ANY consequence in his life?
Hart asks how they can negotiate his loss and...oh, now this is interesting.
Dar smiled tightly. "It was a loss," he said, "and you knew the stakes. Your life against the stones. Cheysuli, Homanan, it does not matter. The wager stands."
Hart matched his tone, "I have only to summon my lir"
"Do it." Dar laughed as Hart frowned his incomprehension. "Do it, shapechanger—or should I say, try."
His glance went past Hart to another man. "Even I know that a Cheysuli has no power before an Ihlini."
You're in fucking SOLINDE, you moron.
And, for the first time, Hart starts to sweat:
For the first time since entering the tavern. Hart went into the link to contact Rael. And instantly felt the blankness that signaled Ihlini presence and canceled out the link.
Oh, gods—oh, lir, what have I done now?
"Now," Dar said gently, "shall we speak again of the wager?"
Oh, gods, where is Brennan when I need him?
Pretty sure he's been handed over to Strahan by his rapist at this point, dude. So...I guess that's a sign that things can always get worse?
Hart starts to try to bribe his way out, but Dar isn't really having it. He also seems to be doubting Hart's heritage here:
"Worthless," Dar said distinctly. "This is Solinde, Homanan; do you think your coin has value here? I have seen how you look at our red Solindish gold; how you covet it with your eyes." His own narrowed. "Eyes which, I might add, are blue instead of yellow. Cheysuli? I think not. I think you are a liar who lives on the legends of other men."
The earring is not convincing apparently.
Hart gritted his teeth. "Then give me leave to show you other adornment."
Dar laughed. "If you wish. But if you mean to show us your weapon, Homanan, recall there are women present."
Even Oma laughed, eyeing Hart with derisive amusement. Heat coursed through his body and stung his armpits, but he rose slowly and unbuckled his belt with careful deliberation. He dropped it and the heavy nife on the table, then stripped out of the rich blue tunic. It left him aglitter in silver mail, and he saw a flash of irritation in Dar's eyes as well as envy in the eyes of others.
I'm honestly not sure what the point of this is, but eventually he strips down enough to show his armbands. This causes "grudging acknowledgment" in Dar's eyes. And this leads to something very unsurprising: Dar suggests he can pay with Cheysuli gold.
Hart balks, of course, but he has something else to offer. Something SOLINDISH.
Oh, you gloriously stupid moron.
Lazily Dar reached out and took up the leather pouch, upending it. He shook it; a ring fell out onto the table. It rattled, rolled, stopped. It was solid gold, red Solindish gold, and large enough to hide half of Hart's forefinger when he wore it. But he had never worn it.
And now I never will.
Oma bent close to look; Dar's rigid hand thrust her rudely away from the table. In the light from the fat wax candle, the heavy ring glowed.
"The Third Seal," he said in disbelief.
"Part of the Trey," Hart agreed. "Enough, do you think, to purchase the life of the Prince of Solinde?"
You fucking MORON.
I'm not sure if Hart realizes what he's offering here. The narrative seems to though:
"There is no Prince of Solinde—has been none for eighty years or more, ever since Bellam's son Ellic was killed by Shaine the Mujhar." But Dar's tone was dulled by shock and comprehension. Slowly he reached out and took up the ring, turning it so the light fell fully on the incised pattern that formed the Third Seal of Solinde, and the key to almost limitless power.
Okay, so, it does sound like maybe these guys weren't aware that they were about to murder Niall's son. Which makes them seem a lot less stupid. Hart on the other hand:
"No prince," he said distinctly, "until the Lady Ilsa weds and bears a son." He looked at Hart in dawning recognition. "There was a man, she said—a Cheysuli warrior, who carried the Third Seal ... a man she nearly killed."
So, her name is Ilsa. Hart smiled crookedly and pulled hair aside, baring swollen brow and ugly scrape. "Nearly. But not, quite."
Dar tipped the ring into his palm and rolled it back and forth. "With this, a man could rule Solinde."
Priorities, Hart. (But yes, now we learn Ilsa's name. And this does seem to be proof that she's royal.)
The tone of things changes here, considerably. And it's pretty clear that, for all of Hart's boasts about being able to read men, he is full of shit.
Dar looked at him thoughtfully. "Niall is your father."
"Aye. My jehan. Mujhar of Homana." He glanced at Oma and the others, marking how attentively they watched him. The hostility had altered significantly to shock and wonder. He found he preferred the latter. "I did not come of my own accord," he said, for their benefit as much as for Dar's, who held his life. "I was sent, I am to learn to rule Solinde . . . and I want it no more than you do."
Dar looked at him sharply. "You do not?"
Hart shrugged. "Not now. Later, aye—I have been bred and raised for it, and have no intention of turning my back on my tahlmorra—but as for now, my interest lies in other directions." He looked at the ring in Dar's hand. "Is it enough?"
"To buy back your life?" Dar's tone was incredulous.
"This is worth much more than you can imagine, my Homanan-Cheysuli princeling. This is worth a woman."
Hart frowned as Dar began to laugh. "A woman?"
Still laughing, the Solindishman shook his head. "Ah, shapechanger, how you amuse me with your ignorance. Obviously you have no aptitude for ruling, else you would have steeped yourself in the politics of Solinde. And I refuse to be your tutor." He grinned. "Your life is duly bought. Take your borrowed clothing and your hawk and all your worthless Homanan coin and get yourself back to the palace."
No prince, "until Lady Ilsa weds and bears a son". You just gave a Solindish national the fucking symbol of rulership. Even if it's only one part of three, it could probably still fuel another fucking rebellion!
Ilsa is apparently close enough to this Solindish National to tell him of the encounter in the woods!
Also, given the shift in tone, you PROBABLY could have gotten out without offering the ring, since these people likely won't want Niall to send his ARMY in before they take power! Maybe it wouldn't have worked, admittedly, but I'd have a lot more respect for you if you'd fucking TRIED.
Oh well, Hart is a fucking moron.
He had never been dismissed so arrantly by anyone, even his father, who had more right. And yet he dared not vent his anger on Dar or any of the Solindish; in a way, he acknowledged their right to treat him as they did. He knew nothing of them at all, or their realm, and yet he came expecting to rule them, whether he wanted to or not.
Oh, NOW, you want to show cultural sensitivity, you fucking idiot?
One thing I will give credit for is that Hart immediately goes to Tarron the next morning, telling him what happened the night before. He wants to know more about Ilsa. He apparently expects Tarron to be relieved at his escape and compliment him on his resolution...that involved giving away the symbol of rank and his power. Yeah, I'm sure that's what will happen.
Tarron did not wait for him to finish. "I think you have placed all my work in jeopardy . . . possibly even the entire succession." He shook his head in disbelief.
"The Mujhar warned me—he said you required watching until you learned the importance of your role. But I thought surely he exaggerated—" He shut his eyes. "By the gods, you have given over the Third Seal into the hands of those who would wrest this throne from your father . . . from those who would gladly see you dead so they can crown their own candidate Prince of Solinde. . . ."
"Tarron—"
"Be silent!" The regent sat upright in the chair and glared at Hart, who gazed back in astonishment. "Hold your tongue, my lord, while I try to think of a way to make certain you may keep the head that wags it!"
Hart scowled. "May I remind you—"
"May I remind you?" Tarron snapped. Then, more quietly, "Listen to me, my lord, and perhaps you will see that I am less concerned for your rank and personal pleasure than for your life."
So this is maybe even worse than it sounds.
Tarron elaborates:
Tarron sighed a little. "To put it as succinctly as possible: you understand, of course, that Solinde is an occupied land in vassalage to your father. All judgments concerning the welfare of this realm are made by him, and him alone, although he encourages and acts on advice from me as well as other Homanans he has placed to administer the governing of Solinde."
"Of course."
The regent nodded. "It is a necessary practice that documents requiring triple seals—the Trey of Solinde—must be sent to Mujhara for the Mujhar's acknowledgment. For all the days of his rule, Niall the Mujhar has held the First and Third Seals of Solinde, while I held the Second. Nothing in Solindish law can be done without the Trey, the complete Trey. No orders can be carried out, no armies paid, no judgments rendered to the petitioners who gather at court for such things. Without the Trey, the wheel stops turning." Tarron drew in a calming breath.
This seems remarkably inefficient, considering how long travel takes between the two capitols. But anyway, Hart had been given the Third Seal so that he can have an active role in governing the realm.
And, okay, I think this time maybe Niall's at fault here:
Hart sat upright. "Do you mean he intends to give me sole responsibility? But—I thought I would rule in his name . . ." He frowned. "I thought things would continue mostly as they are."
The regent's smile was bleak. "How many times has he told you Solinde would one day be yours?"
Hart shrugged. "As long as I can remember, but—"
"But nothing," Tarron said flatly. "On the day of his death, you will become king in your own right. Solinde will be yours, my lord. Yours. To do with as you will."
I wondered about how the power dynamic was supposed to work. It sounds like Hart was interpreting his role to be something like a "Prince of Wales" sort of thing. It sounds like Niall meant it quite literally instead.
It makes some sense, given the inefficiency of the current ruling model.
But...maybe, dude, you should have made sure your son actually UNDERSTOOD his role in all this???
Hart asks: what if he decides to give Solinde back to the Solindish:
"So be it." To his credit, Tarron did not flinch. "Although you may have done that already."
Dar, apparently, is one of the men most likely to order Hart's death. (You read him so well, Hart. Really.) Hart points out that Dar let him live. Tarron says that this is because of Ilsa.
Ilsa is the great-granddaughter of Bellam's youngest sister. So yep, Solindish royalty. And whoever she marries will be the Consort, and any son will be named Prince of Solinde. And thus, a threat to Hart. She apparently has a lot of suitors, though Dar has a better chance than most.
Hart...has an interesting interpretation of this:
Hart scowled at the regent. "I know the solution as well as you, Tarron. You intend to tell me that I should wed her, if only to keep her out of Solindish hands."
Tarron says no, actually. For all he knows, Hart might want a Cheysuli woman (An actual, fully Cheysuli woman? In this series? One that actually looks Cheysuli? I fucking doubt it, man.) But he thinks that Hart needs to keep an eye on Ilsa, who is very aware of her impact on Solindish politics.
Tarron wants him to get the ring from Dar. If Dar has the ring, then he has a better chance of winning Ilsa. If he has both, Hart's time in Solinde is done.
Hart swore beneath his breath. He was of no mind to wed, not even for the sake of a realm. Let Brennan make the sacrifice with Aileen of Erinn, and Keely with the girl's brother, Sean. His choice would be his own, and the timing of it.
This bit is actually interesting. I'd interpreted Hart's "So you're telling me to marry her" thing as a Carillon-esque "I'm just looking for a reason to marry this person that I'm obsessed with" thing. But maybe Hart isn't quite THAT bad off. Here's hoping. I might find him frustratingly stupid, but I'd rather he not be a rapist.
The Third Seal— Abruptly he brightened. "There is a way I might be able to get it back, and without bloodshed. But it will require something from you."
Tarron did not hesitate. "Anything, my lord."
Hart smiled warmly. "Change my Homanan gold for Solindish."
You are so fucking stupid.
So, we rejoin Hart, who's still laughing. If you recall, he'd drawn the death card. Which means he is supposed to die now. Because he's an idiot who had to gamble with people who hate him and not like literally anywhere else in the country.
On the plus side, it is getting to Dar:
"Did you think I jested?" Dar inquired in an elegantly dangerous tone of voice. "Did you think, when I spoke of your death as the stakes of the game, I meant nothing of what I said?"
"Oh, I know you meant it," Hart answered, smiling.
"I can smell the stink on all of you, this desire for my death." Again he stirred the coins, admiring their patina in the candlelight. Still he smiled a little, but mostly to himself; he preferred not to provoke the Solindishman further, and yet a part of him did not care. He met Dar's eyes and shrugged. "But I have learned that even a life may be purchased—or bought back—when the loser is wealthy enough." He paused. "Or has other means to force it."
I think maybe this gets into the heart of why I find Hart so irritating. It's not necessarily the addiction, though I wish we'd see him at least TRY to deal with it in ways that aren't immediately so fucking stupid. It's that he's so flippant about anything resembling consequence.
I get that these characters are princes. I get that they come from a massive amount of privilege. But Hart just seems to revel in it. He's rich, so he can buy his way out. He's Cheysuli, so he can fly out.
As we see, when Dar tells him there are three men with knives behind him:
Hart shrugged, shaking his head. "It makes no difference. The force I speak of has nothing to do with weapons."
"Mine does." Dar touched the hilt of his knife with a single eloquent finger.
Hart laughed. "Effective against a man, perhaps, but what about a hawk?"
"I think—“ But Dar stopped short, interrupting himself. He looked at Hart in silence a long moment. And then, though his expression did not change, the tone of his voice altered perceptibly. "Cheysuli," he said flatly.
"Aye," Hart agreed.
Obviously I don't think Hart should lose his life over this bullshit, (and really, how stupid ARE these people? They're a conquered nation, with a regent in the capitol, and their conquering nation isn't fighting any other war to occupy them. Niall's a nice guy, but do they really think he'll be fine with them murdering his son?), but has he ever had to face ANY consequence in his life?
Hart asks how they can negotiate his loss and...oh, now this is interesting.
Dar smiled tightly. "It was a loss," he said, "and you knew the stakes. Your life against the stones. Cheysuli, Homanan, it does not matter. The wager stands."
Hart matched his tone, "I have only to summon my lir"
"Do it." Dar laughed as Hart frowned his incomprehension. "Do it, shapechanger—or should I say, try."
His glance went past Hart to another man. "Even I know that a Cheysuli has no power before an Ihlini."
You're in fucking SOLINDE, you moron.
And, for the first time, Hart starts to sweat:
For the first time since entering the tavern. Hart went into the link to contact Rael. And instantly felt the blankness that signaled Ihlini presence and canceled out the link.
Oh, gods—oh, lir, what have I done now?
"Now," Dar said gently, "shall we speak again of the wager?"
Oh, gods, where is Brennan when I need him?
Pretty sure he's been handed over to Strahan by his rapist at this point, dude. So...I guess that's a sign that things can always get worse?
Hart starts to try to bribe his way out, but Dar isn't really having it. He also seems to be doubting Hart's heritage here:
"Worthless," Dar said distinctly. "This is Solinde, Homanan; do you think your coin has value here? I have seen how you look at our red Solindish gold; how you covet it with your eyes." His own narrowed. "Eyes which, I might add, are blue instead of yellow. Cheysuli? I think not. I think you are a liar who lives on the legends of other men."
The earring is not convincing apparently.
Hart gritted his teeth. "Then give me leave to show you other adornment."
Dar laughed. "If you wish. But if you mean to show us your weapon, Homanan, recall there are women present."
Even Oma laughed, eyeing Hart with derisive amusement. Heat coursed through his body and stung his armpits, but he rose slowly and unbuckled his belt with careful deliberation. He dropped it and the heavy nife on the table, then stripped out of the rich blue tunic. It left him aglitter in silver mail, and he saw a flash of irritation in Dar's eyes as well as envy in the eyes of others.
I'm honestly not sure what the point of this is, but eventually he strips down enough to show his armbands. This causes "grudging acknowledgment" in Dar's eyes. And this leads to something very unsurprising: Dar suggests he can pay with Cheysuli gold.
Hart balks, of course, but he has something else to offer. Something SOLINDISH.
Oh, you gloriously stupid moron.
Lazily Dar reached out and took up the leather pouch, upending it. He shook it; a ring fell out onto the table. It rattled, rolled, stopped. It was solid gold, red Solindish gold, and large enough to hide half of Hart's forefinger when he wore it. But he had never worn it.
And now I never will.
Oma bent close to look; Dar's rigid hand thrust her rudely away from the table. In the light from the fat wax candle, the heavy ring glowed.
"The Third Seal," he said in disbelief.
"Part of the Trey," Hart agreed. "Enough, do you think, to purchase the life of the Prince of Solinde?"
You fucking MORON.
I'm not sure if Hart realizes what he's offering here. The narrative seems to though:
"There is no Prince of Solinde—has been none for eighty years or more, ever since Bellam's son Ellic was killed by Shaine the Mujhar." But Dar's tone was dulled by shock and comprehension. Slowly he reached out and took up the ring, turning it so the light fell fully on the incised pattern that formed the Third Seal of Solinde, and the key to almost limitless power.
Okay, so, it does sound like maybe these guys weren't aware that they were about to murder Niall's son. Which makes them seem a lot less stupid. Hart on the other hand:
"No prince," he said distinctly, "until the Lady Ilsa weds and bears a son." He looked at Hart in dawning recognition. "There was a man, she said—a Cheysuli warrior, who carried the Third Seal ... a man she nearly killed."
So, her name is Ilsa. Hart smiled crookedly and pulled hair aside, baring swollen brow and ugly scrape. "Nearly. But not, quite."
Dar tipped the ring into his palm and rolled it back and forth. "With this, a man could rule Solinde."
Priorities, Hart. (But yes, now we learn Ilsa's name. And this does seem to be proof that she's royal.)
The tone of things changes here, considerably. And it's pretty clear that, for all of Hart's boasts about being able to read men, he is full of shit.
Dar looked at him thoughtfully. "Niall is your father."
"Aye. My jehan. Mujhar of Homana." He glanced at Oma and the others, marking how attentively they watched him. The hostility had altered significantly to shock and wonder. He found he preferred the latter. "I did not come of my own accord," he said, for their benefit as much as for Dar's, who held his life. "I was sent, I am to learn to rule Solinde . . . and I want it no more than you do."
Dar looked at him sharply. "You do not?"
Hart shrugged. "Not now. Later, aye—I have been bred and raised for it, and have no intention of turning my back on my tahlmorra—but as for now, my interest lies in other directions." He looked at the ring in Dar's hand. "Is it enough?"
"To buy back your life?" Dar's tone was incredulous.
"This is worth much more than you can imagine, my Homanan-Cheysuli princeling. This is worth a woman."
Hart frowned as Dar began to laugh. "A woman?"
Still laughing, the Solindishman shook his head. "Ah, shapechanger, how you amuse me with your ignorance. Obviously you have no aptitude for ruling, else you would have steeped yourself in the politics of Solinde. And I refuse to be your tutor." He grinned. "Your life is duly bought. Take your borrowed clothing and your hawk and all your worthless Homanan coin and get yourself back to the palace."
No prince, "until Lady Ilsa weds and bears a son". You just gave a Solindish national the fucking symbol of rulership. Even if it's only one part of three, it could probably still fuel another fucking rebellion!
Ilsa is apparently close enough to this Solindish National to tell him of the encounter in the woods!
Also, given the shift in tone, you PROBABLY could have gotten out without offering the ring, since these people likely won't want Niall to send his ARMY in before they take power! Maybe it wouldn't have worked, admittedly, but I'd have a lot more respect for you if you'd fucking TRIED.
Oh well, Hart is a fucking moron.
He had never been dismissed so arrantly by anyone, even his father, who had more right. And yet he dared not vent his anger on Dar or any of the Solindish; in a way, he acknowledged their right to treat him as they did. He knew nothing of them at all, or their realm, and yet he came expecting to rule them, whether he wanted to or not.
Oh, NOW, you want to show cultural sensitivity, you fucking idiot?
One thing I will give credit for is that Hart immediately goes to Tarron the next morning, telling him what happened the night before. He wants to know more about Ilsa. He apparently expects Tarron to be relieved at his escape and compliment him on his resolution...that involved giving away the symbol of rank and his power. Yeah, I'm sure that's what will happen.
Tarron did not wait for him to finish. "I think you have placed all my work in jeopardy . . . possibly even the entire succession." He shook his head in disbelief.
"The Mujhar warned me—he said you required watching until you learned the importance of your role. But I thought surely he exaggerated—" He shut his eyes. "By the gods, you have given over the Third Seal into the hands of those who would wrest this throne from your father . . . from those who would gladly see you dead so they can crown their own candidate Prince of Solinde. . . ."
"Tarron—"
"Be silent!" The regent sat upright in the chair and glared at Hart, who gazed back in astonishment. "Hold your tongue, my lord, while I try to think of a way to make certain you may keep the head that wags it!"
Hart scowled. "May I remind you—"
"May I remind you?" Tarron snapped. Then, more quietly, "Listen to me, my lord, and perhaps you will see that I am less concerned for your rank and personal pleasure than for your life."
So this is maybe even worse than it sounds.
Tarron elaborates:
Tarron sighed a little. "To put it as succinctly as possible: you understand, of course, that Solinde is an occupied land in vassalage to your father. All judgments concerning the welfare of this realm are made by him, and him alone, although he encourages and acts on advice from me as well as other Homanans he has placed to administer the governing of Solinde."
"Of course."
The regent nodded. "It is a necessary practice that documents requiring triple seals—the Trey of Solinde—must be sent to Mujhara for the Mujhar's acknowledgment. For all the days of his rule, Niall the Mujhar has held the First and Third Seals of Solinde, while I held the Second. Nothing in Solindish law can be done without the Trey, the complete Trey. No orders can be carried out, no armies paid, no judgments rendered to the petitioners who gather at court for such things. Without the Trey, the wheel stops turning." Tarron drew in a calming breath.
This seems remarkably inefficient, considering how long travel takes between the two capitols. But anyway, Hart had been given the Third Seal so that he can have an active role in governing the realm.
And, okay, I think this time maybe Niall's at fault here:
Hart sat upright. "Do you mean he intends to give me sole responsibility? But—I thought I would rule in his name . . ." He frowned. "I thought things would continue mostly as they are."
The regent's smile was bleak. "How many times has he told you Solinde would one day be yours?"
Hart shrugged. "As long as I can remember, but—"
"But nothing," Tarron said flatly. "On the day of his death, you will become king in your own right. Solinde will be yours, my lord. Yours. To do with as you will."
I wondered about how the power dynamic was supposed to work. It sounds like Hart was interpreting his role to be something like a "Prince of Wales" sort of thing. It sounds like Niall meant it quite literally instead.
It makes some sense, given the inefficiency of the current ruling model.
But...maybe, dude, you should have made sure your son actually UNDERSTOOD his role in all this???
Hart asks: what if he decides to give Solinde back to the Solindish:
"So be it." To his credit, Tarron did not flinch. "Although you may have done that already."
Dar, apparently, is one of the men most likely to order Hart's death. (You read him so well, Hart. Really.) Hart points out that Dar let him live. Tarron says that this is because of Ilsa.
Ilsa is the great-granddaughter of Bellam's youngest sister. So yep, Solindish royalty. And whoever she marries will be the Consort, and any son will be named Prince of Solinde. And thus, a threat to Hart. She apparently has a lot of suitors, though Dar has a better chance than most.
Hart...has an interesting interpretation of this:
Hart scowled at the regent. "I know the solution as well as you, Tarron. You intend to tell me that I should wed her, if only to keep her out of Solindish hands."
Tarron says no, actually. For all he knows, Hart might want a Cheysuli woman (An actual, fully Cheysuli woman? In this series? One that actually looks Cheysuli? I fucking doubt it, man.) But he thinks that Hart needs to keep an eye on Ilsa, who is very aware of her impact on Solindish politics.
Tarron wants him to get the ring from Dar. If Dar has the ring, then he has a better chance of winning Ilsa. If he has both, Hart's time in Solinde is done.
Hart swore beneath his breath. He was of no mind to wed, not even for the sake of a realm. Let Brennan make the sacrifice with Aileen of Erinn, and Keely with the girl's brother, Sean. His choice would be his own, and the timing of it.
This bit is actually interesting. I'd interpreted Hart's "So you're telling me to marry her" thing as a Carillon-esque "I'm just looking for a reason to marry this person that I'm obsessed with" thing. But maybe Hart isn't quite THAT bad off. Here's hoping. I might find him frustratingly stupid, but I'd rather he not be a rapist.
The Third Seal— Abruptly he brightened. "There is a way I might be able to get it back, and without bloodshed. But it will require something from you."
Tarron did not hesitate. "Anything, my lord."
Hart smiled warmly. "Change my Homanan gold for Solindish."
You are so fucking stupid.
....
Date: 2023-07-19 05:01 pm (UTC)= Multi-Facets.
Re: ....
Date: 2023-07-19 05:06 pm (UTC)Yeah, I got nothing.
But don't worry, I'm SURE Hart will be able to get it back...through gambling...because that's worked amazingly well so far.
(And yeah, this really does make Niall look stupider, doesn't it? I know this is your kid, dude, but you'd have been better off putting Maeve or Keely on this throne, even taking the universe's sexism into account.)
Re: ....
Date: 2023-07-21 01:44 am (UTC)= Multi-Facets.
Re: ....
Date: 2023-07-21 05:20 am (UTC)Re: ....
Date: 2023-07-22 04:12 pm (UTC)= Multi-Facets.
On a scale from Hart to 10, I wonder how smart the average protagonist is
Date: 2023-07-20 09:29 am (UTC)"Did you think I jested?" Dar inquired in an elegantly dangerous tone of voice. "Did you think, when I spoke of your death as the stakes of the game, I meant nothing of what I said?"
"Oh, I know you meant it," Hart answered, smiling.
"I can smell the stink on all of you, this desire for my death." Again he stirred the coins, admiring their patina in the candlelight. Still he smiled a little, but mostly to himself; he preferred not to provoke the Solindishman further, and yet a part of him did not care. He met Dar's eyes and shrugged. "But I have learned that even a life may be purchased—or bought back—when the loser is wealthy enough." He paused. "Or has other means to force it."
Pan: Hart could become a good starter villain. He is rich and powerful, and so he believes he can always afford being stupid, since he can always get away with everything.
Alix: At least there is a reason he is so reckless. When you are privileged and foolish at the same time, you usually aren't so careful.
Hart shrugged, shaking his head. "It makes no difference. The force I speak of has nothing to do with weapons."
"Mine does." Dar touched the hilt of his knife with a single eloquent finger.
Hart laughed. "Effective against a man, perhaps, but what about a hawk?"
"I think—“ But Dar stopped short, interrupting himself. He looked at Hart in silence a long moment. And then, though his expression did not change, the tone of his voice altered perceptibly. "Cheysuli," he said flatly.
"Aye," Hart agreed.
Alix: As someone who has great Cheysuli powers, I know changing into a hawk, especially in open space, will be more than enough for three thugs with knives, even without any special abilities. Except if you let it get to your head.
For the first time since entering the tavern. Hart went into the link to contact Rael. And instantly felt the blankness that signaled Ihlini presence and canceled out the link.
Oh, gods—oh, lir, what have I done now?
"Now," Dar said gently, "shall we speak again of the wager?"
Alix: And that's why you don't act stupid, thinking your powers will save you by themselves, idiot.
Dar smiled tightly. "It was a loss," he said, "and you knew the stakes. Your life against the stones. Cheysuli, Homanan, it does not matter. The wager stands."
Pan: Speaking of which, you said Solinde hates Hart. Who says Dar didn't rig it with the approval of everyone? The possibility of which makes Hart even dumber.
Hart gritted his teeth. "Then give me leave to show you other adornment."
Dar laughed. "If you wish. But if you mean to show us your weapon, Homanan, recall there are women present."
Alix: Pffft, women are finally respected in this world? Even in the timeline where I never joined Stormwolf?
Well, that makes me a bit optimistic.
Hart sat upright. "Do you mean he intends to give me sole responsibility? But—I thought I would rule in his name . . ." He frowned. "I thought things would continue mostly as they are."
The regent's smile was bleak. "How many times has he told you Solinde would one day be yours?"
Hart shrugged. "As long as I can remember, but—"
"But nothing," Tarron said flatly. "On the day of his death, you will become king in your own right. Solinde will be yours, my lord. Yours. To do with as you will."
Alix: To leave a big responsibility to someone unworthy speaks badly about you yourself, Niall.
Also, considering the lack of supposedly heroic rapists in this place, things are really changing!
This bit is actually interesting. I'd interpreted Hart's "So you're telling me to marry her" thing as a Carillon-esque "I'm just looking for a reason to marry this person that I'm obsessed with" thing. But maybe Hart isn't quite THAT bad off. Here's hoping. I might find him frustratingly stupid, but I'd rather he not be a rapist.
Yeah, idiot is still a massive upgrade from rapist.
Re: On a scale from Hart to 10, I wonder how smart the average protagonist is
Date: 2023-07-20 04:39 pm (UTC)Hart is definitely the hardest sibling to like, in my opinion. There's a bit in the next chapter that, I think, adds a little context to some of his stupidity, but he's still OBNOXIOUSLY short-sighted and doesn't seem remotely inclined to learn from his mistakes.
That said, if Hart were the fourth lead after Carillon and Donal, I'd probably appreciate him a lot more. He just suffers from the juxtaposition against lead characters that I actually like.