"You want to talk about the past? I can talk about the past!
Don't shush me woman, you've been doing that for thirty years! It's about time we got this dirty laundry out in the open!
This family is built on a lie! With lie upon lie built upon it! That man in the painting, our illustrious monarch, the noble trader who built this outpost by himself for ten years! Well it's high time we admit the truth, that he was-"
The word died on his lips, as the 'heart attack' took him as he 'fell' onto my dinner knife.
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