Eva
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There were few things as satisfying to Eva as the exhaustion suffered from a job well done. She could feel that hard-earned weariness now, in her fingers and her cheeks, mainly. The former from clasping hands with dignitaries, fellow socialites, minor officials, and other silk-clad opportunities; the latter from smiling at this lavish party’s every attendee, servingman, hors d’oeuvre, and dinnerplate.
“Happy feast, Lady So-and-So. Have you met the headmaster of the school I oversee?”
“Why, yes, we are always grateful to steward endowments, Doctor What’s-His-Face. How generous of you to inquire!”
“What’s that, Lord Wild Eyebrows? Yes, I have read that book you recommended—and I went ahead and read the rest of his works on political theory, too. I’m having lunch with him in two weeks. Perhaps you’d like to join us?”
And so on.
The party was going well. Half an hour in, Eva had every reason to expect the purposes she harbored for this evening’s event would be more than fulfilled.
(It’s produced EH-vuh. Not EE-vuh or AY-vuh)
If Scipio is the heartbeat of Fury’s Ashes, Eva is the conscience. She represents a stubborn yearning for justice that all of us would do well to keep alive in ourselves.
We don’t exactly remember when Eva became more than just a side character. She was always going to be in the story from the beginning, but her role grew very quickly as we embarked on our first draft. In fact, it wasn’t long into creating her story that she became the primary POV character in Fury’s Ashes, with her sections appearing before Scipio’s, despite occurring chronologically after.
The seed of Eva’s half of the plot came from a book Tim read as a kid, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s first Sherlock Holmes novel, A Study in Scarlet. In it, the reader starts out with Holmes and Watson, follows their murder investigation up to a critical point, and then suddenly leaps across the Atlantic to Utah. There, the reader follows a brand-new, seemingly random character through his part of the story, until it collides with Holmes’s investigation.
It’s a brilliant, if initially jarring narrative trick, which Tim wanted to emulate with a second POV character, whose outside perspective on Scipio’s quest broadens the world and themes.
Sarah had doubts, however. Why spend so much time endearing the readers to one character just to rip them away when things get interesting?
In the Spring of 2017, Sarah and Tim visited the New York Public Library’s temporary exhibit, “Love in Venice.” There, we experienced a vibrant collection of artworks, letters, garments (and undergarments), fashion trends, and other accoutrements of Venetian libertinism. One letter in particular caught our eye.
If memory serves, it was a note to the composer Franz Liszt, written by his girlfriend, reminding him that she knew precisely when he was due home. The implication was that, if he decided to stop off somewhere and visit any other lady friends, she would know about it.
The exhibit sparked a region of our imagination that, up to then, hadn’t been active in the drafting of our novel.
In the hours afterward, walking around the rest of the New York Public library, Tim and Sarah dreamed up the slimmest outline of what would later become the second half of Fury’s Ashes.
We created Prince Veneti, Eva’s cynical, slutty, urbane best friend, borrowing the Italian name for Venice, Venezia. And we came up with the city of Fiorensus, Eva and Veneti’s hometown, a libertine, artistic metropolis. Many of you will notice that Fiorensus is just a mish-mash of “Firenze” and “Florence,” the Italian and American names for another real-world city.
Also, Tim would be lying if he said the portrayal of Renaissance Italy in Assassin’s Creed II played no part in our conception of Eva and Fiorensus. Did Tim spend a good chunk of his first year of undergraduate playing that game on his MacBook in the back of the classroom? Absolutely.
Not long into drafting the novel, it became clear to both of us that Eva deserved equal weight with Scipio as a POV character. Her world was too fascinating, her aspirations too noble, and her friends too funny to sideline. Moreover, the contrast between her character and Scipio’s, her world and his, gave us license to use a broader palette of emotions and tones throughout the novel.
We’re grateful for Eva’s dogged insistence on the legitimacy and importance of her story and quest for justice.
She has reminded us time and again that, just because no one is listening, doesn’t mean you should stop speaking your truth.
Even if it costs you everything.
T.S. Austen
February, 2023