Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken
Outwardly Elia was unruffled, but inside she burned.
The remaining hours of the day, after the jousting had concluded. The day that followed, to end the tourney and see all visitors off to the road. The days on the road to Maidenpool. The day on ship. For all of it Elia acted largely as she would have had nothing at all occurred.
But the truth was that she was frustrated and upset and angry, no, she was not just angry, she was livid.
Moons of careful planning, destroyed in seconds, in one thoughtless moment. Just thinking back to it threatened to overwhelm her again. The moment had replayed itself in her mind over and over again. That damned garland of roses landing in the Stark girl's lap, the atmosphere in the stands rapidly plummeting, and the implications of what had just occurred forcing their way to the forefront.
Oberyn had raged and spat obscenities and insults in the privacy of her solar, but she was more like Doran than him, and less inclined to be controlled by her temper. But she had been pushed to her very limit, nonetheless.
Even controlled as Elia tried to be, her patience had nearly completely disappeared. Every little inconvenience and annoyance threatened to make her boil over, to unload all her frustrations on the nearest target. Ashara's pining, which should have amused her, nearly blinded her with hate.
She had seen the two of them together, on the last day of the tourney, seen that tender little moment at the end. For a moment Elia thought she would have accepted a marriage proposal from the worst of criminals, if only to get some black satisfaction from ruining something good herself.
But she was better than that. Lashing out wildly was beneath her. She was a Princess of Dorne and the realm, a daughter of House Nymeros Martell. Only one person deserved to be the target of her ire.
When they arrived on Dragonstone, the handmaids and wet-nurse were already waiting for her. And for a few minutes she did not think of princes and Great Councils and the state of her marriage. Rhaenys had grown well and gurgled happily when Elia took her in her arms. It had only been weeks, but it seemed to her that her daughter had become near unrecognizable in that short time, with all the growing that had taken place.
In the privacy of her own mind Elia was grateful that there was so little of Rhaegar in their daughter. Rhaenys looked like a scion of House Martell. This at least would not be taken from her.
She could only put things off for so long, however. The confrontation had been brewing for more than a week now.
Handing her daughter to the wet-nurse again Elia began walking the hallways of the old Targaryen stronghold. She did not have to walk far. Her own chambers and Rhaegar's were both located in the Stone Drum, the massive tower serving as Dragonstone's central keep.
Ser Jonothor Darry and Ser Arthur Dayne stood guard outside the solar. Her uncle Prince Lewyn had been summoned to King's Landing with King Aerys, depriving Elia of her one true ally among the white cloaks. Arthur may be Ashara's brother, but he was Rhaegar closest friend as well. She would not count on support from that direction, though at least both were allies to Rhaegar' cause. They would keep servants away, allowing them to talk freely.
"Princess. The prince is waiting for you," Arthur nodded at her, and opened the dark wooden door, a dragon breathing flame carved into the surface.
Rhaegar was sitting near one of the tall windows clad in a black doublet, the red three-headed dragon of his house embroidered on his chest. His gaze was locked on the sea, and he did not turn at her entrance, though Elia was sure he had noticed. His silver harp was within arm's reach, carefully placed on a small table on his left next to a piece of parchment. No doubt he had been playing not long ago.
She waited but Rhaegar did not acknowledge her presence, simply sitting with his back to her. That did nothing but stoke the fire inside her even further.
Her eyes narrowed, and she had to make an effort to keep her teeth from grinding.
"Have your senses taken leave of you? Truly?" she said, trying and failing to not let her anger show.
He turned to her, still sitting and still silent. Then he waited, as if she was the one that had to explain herself. Rhaegar just sat, silent and sad and beautiful. Perfect Rhaegar, always thoughtful, always melancholic, always calm, just sat there, with not an ounce of shame. It made her want to strangle him.
"Tell me, did you spare a single thought for the consequences of your actions? Just one? For what this would do to you, to me, to our efforts and cause?"
His cause, in truth. She had advocated a different approach, harsher perhaps, but quick and with a far smaller chance of an ensuing war. But she had acquiesced. Even if Rhaegar would not be involved directly, it would happen on his orders all the same. Kinslaying, even if no one could prove it.
Nothing.
"I suppose not, or you would have had the decency to warn me or any of the others. I do not imagine even Lord Varys could have more effectively destroyed our preparations in a single stroke. I must congratulate you," Elia mocked, only growing angrier with every word she spoke and with every second Rhaegar did not react.
She had never regretted their marriage before, content with her position and with Rhaegar as her husband. But this?
The humiliation was the least of it. That alone she could have gotten over. It was not his gaze on another woman, though that rankled her as well. A mistress she might have abided, discreet and hidden away. Even whores she would have closed an eye to. The Gods knew that there had been far worse Targaryens in that regard.
No, the real problem was another. Not only was Lyanna Stark the daughter of a Great Lord, but she was already betrothed to another, and not even a woman grown. There was not another woman in the realm Rhaegar could have chosen to ruin everything as he had done.
The Starks would not forget it, the Baratheons would not forget it, and with the marriages that were in place and the situation as it was, the Riverlands may follow right along.
Lord Whent's involvement in the tourney had been a matter of convenience for them. It had been Harrenhal they needed, not a small noble house.
Yet there were consequences to that choice all the same.
Hoster Tully was as proud as any Great Lord, yet he could not depend on millennia of lordship to underscore his legitimacy as overlord, as the Starks or Lannisters could. No, Lord Tully was very well aware that the position of his House could quickly change, just as Mace Tyrell was. But no noble house in the Reach had been granted such significant attention by the Prince and King. House Whent had.
Before, that consequence had been regrettable but still manageable. Now? They would need to make amends, significant ones at that, to Houses Tully, Stark, and Baratheon all. Disaster, there was no getting around that.
"Well? No explanations, no reasons? Can you not even muster some excuse? Some futile attempt at convincing me that everything will work out in the end?" Elia could feel exhaustion creeping up on her, as her anger was being met with no resistance, but she did her best to ignore it. She had not been able to enjoy restful sleep the last few nights.
Rhaegar remained silent.
"Nothing? At all? Everything is as it seems? Do you know what that even is, I wonder? What it looks like? To the realm? What they whisper? There will be songs of it soon, no doubt. The prince as Mad as the King," she finished with a derisive sneer.
The slightest downturn of his lips.
"Careful, Elia." His brow drew down, a spark of discontent in his indigo eyes, yet his voice was calm. "He is my father, still."
Silence reigned for a moment, and he continued.
"What the singers say I cannot know. I honoured Lady Lyanna, as was her due. As for the North." He tapped the small parchment next to his harp, a raven scroll, ready to make the trip to Winterfell. "It has been handled. Rhaenys will wed the firstborn son of Brandon Stark and Catelyn Tully once he comes of age."
Elia knew then that this had been completely futile. Rhaegar clearly did not care. About her, about their marriage, about Rhaenys, about anything but himself. Hot anger evaporated like water in the Dornish desert, replaced by a colder, quieter fury. He turned his back on her, looking out at the water again.
There was an advantage to courtesy and decorum, one she greatly appreciated in that moment.
"I will leave for Sunspear in three days' time. So Rhaenys may visit her family," Elia said, letting none of her feelings be heard. He did not deserve them.
She turned to leave the room.
"Ser Jonothor will guard you for the duration of your trip," Rhaegar said, gaze still fixed on the water.
Trapped, she knew. Ser Jonothor was his good friend and ally, and would not be inattentive in his duties. A Kingsguard was not so easily thwarted.
Elia left the room without another word.
The Water Gardens were a quiet, peaceful place, filled with the laughter of splashing children. Rhaenys looked on happily and gurgled nonsense syllables as Elia rocked her in her lap, unaware of her mother's troubled thoughts.
"How are you feeling?" Doran asked, his voice quiet, and sat down next to her. Only his Norvoshi guardsman, Areo Hotah, stood close by, neither Martell nor Targaryen guards allowed in the immediate vicinity.
Doran was the Lord of a Great House and did not need to suffer even the prince's men, but a white cloak was a different matter. Fortunately, Ser Jonothor was only one man, and had need for rest eventually, giving them a few hours every day.
"Exhausted, mostly," Elia answered. Their voyage had been swift and unbothered, yet even that had taken its toll on her, after sleepless nights and frustration. But there was no reason to trouble Doran with her physical ails when he had to wrestle with ones of his own. He did not like to show it, much less talk of it, but her older brother did not handle exertion as he had even a few years before.
He had earned his spurs more than a decade past, but combat was more hazard to him now than it already was for everyone else.
They spent a few minutes just watching the children play in the pools. Maron Martell had commanded this palace built for his beloved wife, Daenerys Targaryen, who had hosted children from all over Dorne here in her time. Back then, it had served as a symbol of unification, of the joining of Dorne with the Iron Throne, of Houses Martell and Targaryen. Now, that meaning was largely lost, though the traditions begun then had survived undamaged.
Elia had grown up playing in these pools and gardens as well, with Oberyn and hundreds of other children regardless of birth. All of them had splashed and tumbled and pushed each other, and old feuds or differences in status had been unimportant, forgotten at the palace gate.
She wondered for a moment how her predecessor would have reacted to Rhaegar's actions. Myriah Martell, sister to Maron, had married Daeron II a hundred years ago, bringing Dorne into the fold at last.
For more than a century they had resisted conquest, for in Dorne even dragons bowed to the sun, but the bonds of marriage had accomplished what warring could not.
A Dornish Princess for the Targaryen Prince and heir to the Iron Throne, then as now, but she knew of no comparable events to the one at Harrenhal, the histories dominated by the Blackfyre Rebellions and the misdeeds of Aegon the Unworthy.
Would a Maester write of the events at Harrenhal a hundred years from now? Or would it simply be ignored or forgotten, considered unimportant next to the tale of a Great Council, successful or not?
Perhaps it was simply foolishness to wonder at the unknowable. However Myriah might have reacted had no bearing on her actions now. Elia had to decide for herself how she would act going forward.
Rhaenys got Elia's attention then, as she began to fuss in her grip. She focused on soothing her daughter for a moment, rocking her gently and stroking her back, until Rhaenys calmed again and settled down in her lap.
"I am grateful Arianne is past that phase," Doran said lightly from next to her. His firstborn daughter was splashing in the pools as well, much preferring her play to spending time with her young cousin. Arianne had been impatient even while holding Rhaenys for a short time, before taking the first opportunity to run off to exhaust the near boundless energy of a four-year-old.
"I do not blame you for that," Elia replied with a small smile. Usually, she did not have to handle them herself, as she did now, but after Harrenhal spending time with her daughter helped to keep her focused, and sometimes, it seemed, sane.
She would not, could not, forget what had happened, but it was no longer only herself she had to worry about. Even if Rhaegar seemed to disregard their daughter in his actions, she would not. Rhaenys was a Princess of not just Dorne but the entire Seven Kingdoms, and for now Rhaegar's heir should he ascend the Iron Throne.
"Elia," Doran said without looking her way. He had always been the calmer of her two brothers, willing to wait where other rushed into action, but she heard the quiet anger in his voice now. "Dorne stands with you. No matter what you decide."
She accepted the words and all their implications with a nod and smoothed back Rhaenys growing dark locks. It lifted a weight from her shoulders, to have it confirmed, even if she did not yet know just what it was that she would do.
They spoke no more of it from then on, simply passing the time watching the delighted play of children in the pools and gardens but her thoughts did not rest as her tongue did.
This trip to Dorne had brought her a few weeks of separation but Elia knew she could not remain here. Her return to Dragonstone and Rhaegar's side was inevitable, as was a conclusion to their disrupted efforts to depose his father as King.
He clearly still intended to go through with them, considering his proposal for the North, but she was not informed on his plans for the other Great Lords. Tywin Lannister was simple enough to appease by releasing his firstborn son Jaime from his Kingsguard vows, but others presented larger problems, especially after Harrenhal.
Robert Baratheon had two younger brothers, Hoster Tully an unpromised son, and Jon Arryn's heir Elbert was unmarried as well. All of them presented opportunities, as did Mace Tyrell's young son Willas, yet the question, as always, was how they were to be exploited.
Since Harrenhal she had disregarded any efforts of her own, considering Rhaegar's flagrant destruction of all of them, but she could not simply sit and wait, not if she intended to have any say in the future of her life, her children's lives, and the realm at large.
Elia knew that the others would know more, staying informed and ready even during the last weeks, but she also knew that she needed to make a decision first. Her heart and head did not agree on what to do, on how to act.
Could she forgive what had happened and simply move on? No, she could not. But her forgiveness was irrelevant in the end.
Even the thought of her husband's actions, at Harrenhal and Dragonstone afterwards, still frustrated her, and she had no intention of forgetting them for his sake. But she remembered his father's reaction as well, to being presented with Rhaenys shortly after the birth. Despite all her exhaustion and her body's weakness she had undertaken the journey to King's Landing and come before him.
The only thing Elia had wanted was to sleep, for days and days on end, but willpower had kept her awake as long as possible, had kept her conscious while Queen Rhaella had tried to hand her grandchild over to the King, only for Aerys to refuse to hold her, to even touch her. Instead, he had turned up his nose in derision, claiming her beautiful daughter to "smell dornish", the insult he intended heard loud and clear.
What reservations she had ever harboured against forcefully removing Aerys from the Iron Throne had died a swift death that day.
No matter her feelings regarding the son, the father was by far the greater evil.
By the time she spoke Rhaenys had long been taking for a nap, and Ser Jonothor stood near her shoulder again, rested and prepared to guard. Other children splashed in the pools in front of her now, and Doran and her had enjoyed a few blood oranges as they watched in silence.
"Despite everything, we continue as we have."
"You have decided on this, Elia?" Oberyn asked her, pacing around the room.
"There is no choice. Rhaenys is the Crown Princess, and should I bear a son he will be king someday. For now, Rhaegar is our best and only option, and so he has our support," Elia said, already growing tired, of explaining this and in general.
Maester Caleotte had told her to pay attention to any further changes in her body over the next days and weeks, but in her heart she already knew. Her last pregnancy was still fresh in her mind, as was its aftermath and the toll both had taken on her.
Elia was unsure whether she should feel grateful, for a reason to keep Rhaegar from her bed when she had returned to Dragonstone, or defeated. Even if she had made her decision, it seemed that the Gods would have their way no matter what.
"But-"
"No, there is no but. Aerys will never accept my children on the Iron Throne and Viserys is a child. We have no other choice, Oberyn!" She did not often quarrel with her brothers, and she loved both of them dearly, but right now Oberyn's stubborn venom was only cause for additional frustration on her part.
He had returned to Sunspear only that same day, after making his way from Harrenhal by horse and stopping along the way to indulge himself. With her about to leave for Dragonstone again soon, a confrontation had been inevitable.
"You mean for things to return to normal, as if nothing had ever happened?" he replied, far from being cowed or convinced. There was a lazy edge to Oberyn's tone, one she had never heard directed at herself before.
"No, I do not," she insisted forcefully. "I have no intention of forgetting or forgiving Harrenhal. Rhaegar chose his actions, and now I am choosing mine. What do you want? For Dorne to rise in rebellion? For me to beg the High Septon for an annulment he will never grant?"
Oberyn stopped in place and leaned down to eye level with her seated form. "I want you to be angry at his insult, of you and Dorne."
"I AM angry!" Elia shouted, finally losing her patience. "At Rhaegar, at the damn Stark girl, at Ser Barristan, and Arthur, and the King, and mother, and all of them!" She had shot up from the chair in her anger, making Oberyn lean back slightly. A wave of nausea stopped her cold for a moment, making her balance herself on the arm of the chair in response.
Pressing the other hand against her forehead Elia took a deep breath, shoulders sagging. She hated being angry and frustrated.
"Better?" Oberyn smirked knowingly, and she understood.
"You…. Have I told you that I hate you, lately?" Elia asked and her brother barked out a sharp laugh in response.
"No, but I imagine you have thought it in great detail," he said, smiling, and pulled her into a hug she desperately needed.
It brought her back, to a time before her marriage, when her concerns had been only Dorne and herself, and not all the Seven Kingdoms. When things had been simpler or had at least seemed that way to her.
Years spent playing in the Water Gardens with other children and riding out from Sunspear, up the coast towards the Broken Arm or down the coast to Lemonwood and the Greenblood. Lessons with the Septa and her Lady Mother. Playing cyvasse as the evening waned. Stealing a skin of wine with Oberyn only to be discovered by Doran and scrambling to convince him not to tell.
Easy, happy times. But they were the past.
"Your ship leaves tomorrow?" Oberyn asked after a few minutes had passed in silence.
Elia nodded against his chest, unwilling to let go. Unwilling to let this fleeting moment of uncharacteristic support fade.
"I will be leaving Sunspear as well, in a week's time."
Leaning back Elia looked up at her brother in curiosity. Oberyn had no duties in Sunspear itself, as a second son, though he could often be found training with the guards, but he had other ventures of his own in Dorne. His horse breeding, a vineyard or two near Godsgrace, and his fingers in at least a dozen brothels and pleasure houses.
"Where to?"
"Volantis," he answered. "Nymeria is long past the time that she should join her sisters here." Whatever her brother's faults; he accepted the responsibilities incurred by his actions without pause. Little Tyene and not so little Obara already played in the Water Gardens with Arianne and the other children.
Yet just because he accepted them did not mean that he would change his behaviour in any way.
"And should you happen to find port in Lys, with an entirely coincidental elongated stay on account of missing supplies, all will be well?"
Oberyn only smiled, charming and without remorse, as always. Elia chuckled, shaking her head. Oberyn would be Oberyn.
A day later her ship headed slowly out of port, its course set for Dragonstone. With her decisions and plans as they were there was no longer any reason to keep things from Ser Jonothor and dance around his hearing and attention. Of the seven Kingsguard, four were informed of Rhaegar's plans in at least some amount of detail, and of those only Ser Lewyn was in King's Landing with Aerys.
That freedom was fully exploited now, as Elia sat with friends and companions in her cabin, the Darry knight in white guarding their door.
"If the North is handled, the Vale is next. What opportunities do we have?"
"Jon Arryn has no living children of his own, and could still remarry, but his nephew Elbert stands to inherit his titles. Elbert is still unmarried. If neither of those will work, I suppose a Royce or Redfort would do too. Bronze Yohn has three sons, though all are too young for an immediate marriage yet," Alyse Ladybright laid out, pieces of parchment scattered in front of her.
"Elbert is likely not an option," Ashara said, shaking her head. "There has been correspondence between the Eyrie and Riverrun. With Jaime Lannister out of the picture, I do not doubt that he will be betrothed to Lysa Tully within a year."
The marriage would bind Vale and Riverlands together through blood and not just the web of friendships with the North and Stormlands formed by the fostering of Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon under Jon Arryn.
Even without direct confirmation Elia did not doubt Ashara's claim. Their network of informants was barely comparable to that of Lord Varys, but it was all they had and had not led them astray yet.
"One of Yohn Royce's sons, then?" Larra asked.
"The oldest is Andar and is currently squiring at the Eyrie for the captain of the guards, a Ser Vardis Egen," Alyse supplied after riffling through her lists.
"If he is anything like his father, he will be an accomplished tourney knight," Morra Qorgyle said and pushed a grape through her lips. Jeyne Jordayne, the youngest among them, agreed with a nod, silently following the conversation as she usually did.
"Are you offering yourself, Morra?" Elia asked, only half-serious. Who would be offered could be decided at a later date, when they had the opportunity to learn of those efforts Rhaegar had now made by himself.
"Runestone is warmer than Winterfell at least," Larra added flippantly. That elicited a smile from Elia, as it did the others. Even a year of life on Dragonstone or in King's Landing had not made any of them forget the climate of their home. Not even winter managed to conquer the Dornish heat.
She reached for one of the fruit bowls on the small table next to her and picked herself a slice of orange.
"Perhaps there is something other than a betrothal we can offer the Vale," Ashara said with a pensive frown.
"What do you have in mind?" Elia was open to other ideas. Even if a marriage could still be advantageous, she had entertained other options herself. The Vale was rich in marble, but she had no power to commission any project large enough to significantly impact trade.
"The mountain clans in the Vale still discourage trade and travel by way of the mountain passes without armed escorts. What if we offered the support of the crown in efforts to end that problem? Experienced men, and coin to pay for it all."
Elia thought about it for a moment, but one of the wrinkles was clear enough, and caused her to grimace. "No matter the truthfulness of that offer and the idea behind it, it is too similar to those Aerys himself had in his early reign. If we want to prop up Rhaegar as the better King, raising his father's shadow in people's minds will work against us."
Underground canals in Dorne to transform the desert, a new Wall hundreds of miles north of the current one, conquering the Stepstones, Aerys had not lacked for grand ideas, but none had ever come to fruition. Braavos remained uninvaded, King's Landing was still the only city at the Blackwater Rush, and there was no canal through the Riverlands connecting west to east for easier trade.
"If it was more than just an idea? Actual plans and strategies, with costs laid out beforehand?"
Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth Elia considered the potential of Ashara's idea. How it would be received she could not say but there was merit to it, she had to admit.
"Perhaps. I do not know Jon Arryn or Bronze Yohn well, but we could approach them concerning the idea under the guise of a proposed betrothal. I would not trust that much to a raven," Elia said eventually. "When we have arrived on Dragonstone, you can work on it. Arthur may have some valuable insights as well."
It was military effort in the end, and all their knowledge of supplies and logistics would not suffice without the considerations of manpower and strategy necessary to accomplish anything.
Ashara accepted her words with a nod.
"The Riverlands then?" Alyse asked after making a small note. They continued.
I hope you enjoyed chapter 25. I am about halfway down with 26, but I hope to still get it done for next week.
Our next PoV in Elia Martell begins with the aftereffects of Harrenhal. I don't buy versions of the story that involve Elia just being fine with everything, and even if she was personally, the insult extends to her entire homeland as well.
Personally, I would say anybody is entitled to be furious at the kind of disrespect Rhaegar's actions show towards his wife. Respecting your spouse is like the thing about marriage, and in a modern setting divorce would be the likely consequence, but of course there is no such thing in Westeros. Annulment does exist, as we learn through the Tyrion/Tysha/Sansa marriage situation, but getting one is not easy in any way.
The King can set a marriage aside and the High Septon can annul it, but there is no reason for either, even without taking any biases into account. Elia has done her spousal duty by giving Rhaegar an heir, though not a male one yet, but the return is also true in that sense. Rhaegar after all participated in that process. A consummated marriage is very hard to get rid off.
In the end, no matter her feelings, Elia is kind of stuck in her position and she has her soon-to-be two children to think of. This is my attempt to make Dany's vision of Rhaegar after Aegon's birth make a bit more sense. Of course that could just be an untrue version of events, but this way I can see it happening.
Rhaegar is a man convinced of prophecy and his own hype. By this point he still believes himself to be the Prince that was Promised, until Aegon is born, and he uses that to convince himself to be in the right no matter his actions. To be clear, he found Lyanna at Harrenhal and was impressed with her spirit, crowned her for that because he has songs and stories in his head, and then rationalises everything afterwards.
This Doran and Oberyn are obviously younger than the ones we meet in the books, and without the years of hatred and anger over Elia's murder, but they have each others backs, nontheless. Doran suffers from gout in the books, though he is only about 50, but him being physically impaired even by this point, if only slightly, seemed fitting to me.
Oberyn is a younger brother and very protective of his sister, but also unashamed of who he is. He has not met Ellaria yet, his oldest daughter with her won't be born until about 285/286. In the books his first four daughters all have different mothers. A whore from Oldtown, a Volantene noblewoman, a septa, and a Summer Islander trader captain.
Some of the ideas for this come from the Winds sample chapter where Arianna says she once held her cousin Rhaenys, though she can't remember it. Whether those events will end up being canon if we ever get the book is not set in stone yet, but this way they are.
Ashara's plan/idea is basically war on the mountain clans. Tyrion gets like 3000 of them to fight with the Lannisters and I can't imagine that there are much more than triple that in the whole Mountains of the Moon even counting non-combatants. Their advantage is raiding and the difficulty of navigating mountains as an army, not numbers. (Edit: it is actually only 300 men Tyrion gets to fight for him, gathered from four clans. With ten prominent clans in total, I don't think the stimate in chapter 29 is too far off, though there is some additional bias built in.
Even if it is said that their raids have become less frequent, one of the aunts of Harry the Heir was carried off by Burned Men not too long ago. A noble woman, of Waynwood and Arryn blood, was carried off by them. It is already near unbelievable that the Ironborn still exist but the mountain clans? When Aemma Arryn, wife to Viserys I, was obviously an Arryn and there were still dragons alive then? Daemon married a Royce, even if he despised her, and never thought to make war on them to satisfy his bloodlust?
I wanted to include something like it here to establish these long-reaching ideas for her character. It will be relevant once she and Naruto meet again.
If some of you are unaware the site now requires that you opt into Email notifications on your profile, so that may explain anything like a missing notice for a new chapter.
As always thanks for reading and reviewing, and until next time.