"All children are like that. In time, he will look better. Are you thinking about having your own?"
"No," Joliette said, wincing. "After that, I probably won't."
Ivar Edward Gardren opened his tiny mouth to let out an incomprehensible grunt. Lily deftly snatched the bundle and gave it to Angelina.
"Nurse him, Mommy."
Angelina obediently untied her robe. The smacking was energetic enough to remind Lily of a vacuum pump, although she was the only one who could understand that comparison. Even Lily herself was starting to forget things like that, really. It was only a passing thought. Meanwhile, she watched Joliette.
The girl had disgust written on her face, although that was understandable. When Angelina had returned from Virma a couple of years ago, it was only thanks to His Majesty that everything had gone peacefully. Still, the nobles were furious. They had it all figured out—the marriages, the dowries, new acquisitions. It was a real insult!
Bran Gardren turned out to have sharp teeth, too. Lily had known a guy like that back in her own world. He had spent forty years serving in the KGB. Times changed, and so did countries and organizations, but such people were the same: smart, cruel, with cold piercing stares capable of dissecting you into atoms and taking their time to put them back together.
Would she risk going against a man like that? God forbid! Instead, Lily chose to extend him a friendly hand and pushed her husband to do the same. Go visit the new estate, invite him to go hunting, look at the wharf and the ships, get him chatting with August... Bran appreciated the gesture, and the Gardrens and the Eartons became fast friends.
As for the nobles who dared to bare their teeth... Lily had only her suspicions. Nobody would probably know the truth, but after two accidents, everyone fell quiet. The countess didn't doubt that Bran had something on many other people at court. Blackmail always worked, whether in the Middle Ages or the Twenty-first Century.
Angelina was happy, but the dogs still needed their bone, and Joliette became it. The second princess had to be married as well, and she was—to Duke Leroix. Alas, there was no love in that marriage. The duke was almost thirty years her senior; even his youngest son was older than Joliette. Yet such was politics. If Edward still retained his authority or if Richard had already established his, they would have reined the nobles in, but the timing was unfortunate. The first one hadn't stepped down yet, and the second still wasn't in power; it was better to avoid rocking the boat. And really, was that so bad, being married? It happened to everyone, especially princesses, sooner or later, for the sake of their country. Such was their fate.
So it was a loveless match? Too bad, really. Few princesses got to marry for love, so few that one could stuff them and put them up for exhibition. Lily genuinely suspected that if not for the mutiny on Virma and the Ativerna-Virma alliance, Angelina might have become a widow in a few months and gotten another match.
After returning from Virma, Richard was lost. Once, he and Jerisson got blackout drunk, and Lily—something that she would never confess to her husband—eavesdropped on the conversation. She felt sorry for him. Poor Richard. Poor Tira.
What was better, to love and to lose or to have never loved at all? Writers and poets had agonized over that question for centuries, minstrels and playwrights couldn't solve it, but it still hurt in both cases.
Maybe that's what made Richard fight for his sister and her love tooth and nail. He had lost his, yes, but at least she would be happy for both of them.
As for Joliette... Lily knew that the second princess wasn't in love, and if so, why not marry? She was a princess; she would always be respected, appreciated, and cherished. What else did she need? Love? In arranged marriages, one usually looked for it on the side. In any case, she didn't have anyone yet; if she did, that would have been an issue. Lily knew all about double standards and saw the cruelty, but what could she do? Who would have listened to her? Nobody had asked her, after all. Take your husband and make your peace, like it or not. It wasn't that bad, either: at least, Joliette was given a choice, and she picked her husband out of several other men.
Who knows what kind of hopes she had held, but either she wasn't strong enough, or he wasn't wise enough, as it was clear that the girl wasn't happy. She didn't love her husband and had no desire to bear him children. What could happen next? If anyone knew, it wasn't Lilian Earton.
"Angie," Bran said, coming into the room, and Lilian once again realized that at least those two were a good match. The Virman's blue eyes lit up at the sight of his wife, her putting the baby aside after nursing, and her smiling at her stepson and stepdaughter. Bran's children lived with him and Angelina, and she was doing everything to become a friend to them, if not a mother. It had worked with the boy almost right away—at first, Ian was wary toward his stepmother but quickly started to treat her like an elder sister. As for Hilda, she hadn't known any other mother, and she wouldn't, either. She had called Angelina Mama and treated her as such.
When the three of them had presented Angelina with a gorgeous set of jewelry—blue topazes in gold, incidentally, designed by Master Helke Leitz—love surrounded them like a cloud. Lily wasn't jealous. She had everything, too: Jess loved her as much as he could, and she loved her husband just as much and wished for nobody else.
Joliette, however... Lily made a mental note to discuss it with Jess, or, even better, a certain other person.
Really, that was a much better idea.
***
She only got the chance to talk to Bran Gardren a few days later. He came to Taral to order a baptism robe for the child—made of lace, of course.
Lily received him in person, discussed the order, suggested a few more articles...and slowly drew him into the study. There, while drinking honeyed tea, she got the opportunity to talk about what truly bothered her.
"I think Joliette is jealous of her sister."
Bran narrowed his eyes.
"I haven't talked to the duchess much. She doesn't see me as equal and tends to leave before my arrival."
Lily nodded.
"I haven't mentioned it to anyone yet, only to you. Still, jealousy is a beast that can eat away at everyone."
Bran slowly nodded.
"I'll keep an eye on her, I promise."
"Who knows what might get whispered to Angelina's ear or what she might be urged to do..." Lily mused. "As a doctorus, I can say that after giving birth, women sometimes have a very...particular way of thinking."
Bran chuckled.
"I see what you mean."
It was hard not to.
"Somehow, I'm worried. I'm not even sure why," Lily said, shrugging. "I hope I'm wrong, but..."
"I will take care of it. Thank you for the warning. I've omitted that issue," Bran replied, sipping his tea.
Lily had offered her herbal brew to many people, but Bran was the only one who liked it and was currently enjoying the fragrant drink. Even Jess preferred berry juice, but tea...
They exchanged understanding looks.
It might be a woman's intuition or paranoia, but as they say, just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you. It was better to worry first than get hurt later.
After the conversation, Lily banished the issue from her mind. Bran, however, never forgot anything, ever. As a rule, priests of Kholosh had good memories, just like their god did. Such was their faith and their service.
Chapter 2
The sea.
Lady Irida Seinel was happy and content, and she a good reason to be.
First, His Majesty himself had need of her. It was some task, but it was the king's will! If she did everything right, she would get the royal blessing, which meant a lot. Specifically, she would get honor, probably a nice husband, an estate, and most likely a hefty amount of money.
Second, she was leaving the court. At some point, she had become a little bit careless in her choice of men, and word spread around Avester. A gossip here, a rumor there, and not much was left of
her reputation.
Of course, a woman could take quite a lot of liberties if she was a widow, but there was one thing that she could ill afford. She could never become a slut. A courtesan, a mistress, a confidant, maybe even a whore, in certain circumstances, but never a slut, and Lady Irida had crossed the line just a little too far. She needed time for everyone to forget about her blunder, but how would she arrange that interlude? Leave for the wilderness? Forget about entertainment, men, and getting enough money to live decently?
Irida hadn't devised a plan yet, thinking mostly about finding a lover and convincing him to go away for a few months, but the solution fell right into her lap. She was offered the chance to leave for another court, where nobody knew her, where she could make a new start, where...where she would have to carry out His Majesty Entor's order.
Still, it's not like she was forbidden from taking care of herself, was she?
His Majesty had already lent her a helping hand in the form of a new wardrobe and a certain sum of money, and as for jewelry... Wasn't there a generous man around willing to gift a pretty girl with a trinket or two?
Inconceivable!
Irida had the greatest faith in her charms, and incidentally, fate gave her just the opportunity to try them. Baron Lofrayne came out on the deck, and Irida's attention turned toward him. They hadn't arrived at Ativerna yet, so all bets were off. The baron was young, handsome, and, most importantly, unmarried. He was also rich and owned a lot of land and a good fortune. Not enough to compete with dukes and counts but more than enough to provide for a young wife. Why not try her luck? Not to mention that in bed, a man like that was bound to be capable of more than croaking, Irida was sure of that. And if so...
She adjusted her cleavage and stepped forward. The voyage promised to be interesting.
"Baron Lofrayne?" A curtsey showed off her breasts.
"Lady Seinel." A bow in turn and a look aimed right where she wanted.
"Unfortunately, we weren't introduced..."
The game had begun.
Ativerna.
His Majesty Edward was dying. Lily could tell how many days he had left: one, two at most. Any good healer could see it, the stamp of death right on his face. The king never got out of bed and barely talked, spending most of his day in reverie.
The court was quiet. The king is dead, long live the king was what everyone was expected to say, tears for the former and rejoicing for the latter, but the truth was different. Any shift in power caused upheaval. A new broom, so to speak. Some of the officials would be replaced; the ranks would get purged; new assignments would be made... They all knew Richard and could predict most of his actions, but even despite that, people were anxious. Nobody was sure what would happen.
Jess and Lilian all but relocated to the palace, as did August and Alicia. Angelina and Joliette never left their father's side, and Richard stayed with him day and night.
Still, nothing could last forever. Lily knew that if not for her, Edward's life would have been over five years before during the mutiny when he had sentenced his own daughter and grandchildren. She managed to thwart Death's efforts, but the Grim Reaper never left for long. In his current state, Edward couldn't be saved even in the Twenty-first Century's hospitals. After all, death couldn't be cured.
Edward kept slipping into his dreams and going back. Sometimes, he talked in his sleep, calling for Jyce and Jessie,
talking to Edmund, Imogene, trying to explain something to them...but he never mentioned Amalia, cutting her off for good, as if she had never been his daughter. As if he had never passed that sentence. Maybe it was easier for him that way. It allowed him to live on.
Lily was by the king's bedside, watching him. She couldn't entrust that to anyone else. If Edward wasn't delirious, she could have called a servant, but in a state like this, His Majesty might say too much. No stranger should get the chance to overhear that. The throne had too much dirt, secrets, pain, passions, and doubts.
"Jess...my son..."
Lily held the king's hand in her palms.
How many years had she spent in this world? How many threads connected her to Ativerna? There were good and bad days, but His Majesty was a good man, even if he was king first and foremost. But he was a good king, too.
“Lilian?”
Edward snapped out of his delirium and watched her with a solemn look.
"Your Majesty."
"How long have you been here?"
"A while," Lily replied, nodding.
Edward smiled.
"You're a good girl, Lilian. Don't leave him, please."
Lily slowly inclined her head.
"I'll stay by his side as long as I live."
"Thank you. Thank you for my son."
They knew the truth, both of them, but they couldn't say anything aloud. Those weren't the secrets to be voiced.
"My son is lucky, just as I am."
Edward closed his eyes again. Lily sighed. It was more than a confession; it was acceptance. For Edward, she was as much his daughter as Jess was his son, and it meant a lot.
She stroked his withered hand wrapped in parched skin, yellow with age.
"I won't leave him. I won't leave any of them. As long as I'm alive, I will keep my family safe and protect them. I swear."
Edward couldn't hear her anymore. He was back in his own world where he was young, dancing with Jessie Earton at a ball, her blue eyes sparkling right next to him, and happiness seemed so close, no pain or dirt in sight...
Lily sat and watched the candles burn, unable to notice the tears rolling down her cheeks.
Why was she crying? She didn't know.
Several hours later, she took a closer look at Edward and stood up. It was almost time. She had to tell Richard and the others. They needed to say goodbye.
***
His Majesty departed at dawn.
He opened his eyes, saw daybreak, and smiled a warm and happy smile. The people he hadn't seen for so many years were walking down the first ray of the sun as if it were a road, and they looked just as they used to, young and cheerful, yet to accept the burden of time and worry. His Jessamine, as full of light and joy as at their first meeting at a ball, and Jyce, cocky and brave, ready to take on the whole world to protect his sister.
Edward's heart pounded like crazy. He wanted to touch them, walk up to them, at least call out to them, and he reached out, trying to stand up.
"Jessie! Jyce!"
His beloved and his best friend exchanged glances and reached out to him in turn, together.
"Go to us, Ed! How much longer can we wait?"
Somewhere on the sunbeam, a happy blue-eyed woman threw her arms around the young king, while her brother patted his shoulder, as loyal a friend as ever.
Back in the real world, Edward fell back, his face graying as something elusive left his body behind. Lily touched his hand and sighed.
"His Majesty is dead."
Angelina sobbed on her husband's chest. Joliette stepped back into the shadow, but Lily could see the tears on her face. The princess loved her father, unlike her husband, who wasn't even present.
Richard froze next to the late king's bed, an image of grief.
Maria touched his shoulder, uncertain, but Jess shook his head, took her hand in his, and unceremoniously forced her to squeeze her husband's palm.
"Hold him tight. He shouldn't be alone, not today."
His informality went unnoticed—on the contrary, Maria gave him a grateful look.
Lily walked to Jess and hugged him. He didn't think of Edward as a father, but he loved him anyway, and losing someone close always hurt.
For several seconds, everyone was silent, coming to terms with the idea of Edward no longer being with them. Then Richard straightened his shoulders, as if accustoming himself to the burden of the crown, raised his head, and sighed.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to leave me alone with my father. I will return soon. Jess, please make the arrangements...well, you know."
Jerisson nodded. Everyone stepped out of the room, leaving Richard alone. Maria wanted to linger, but His Majesty...yes, he already was His Majesty...shook his head.
"Don't, Maria. Let me stay for now."
"I'll wait," Maria said, glancing back at Jess and getting a smile of approval. As she closed the door behind her, she stopped.
It didn't bother her to ask someone else for their opinion, even if she had just become the queen. Jess knew Richard for longer than she was alive. He loved His Majesty, appreciated him, and wished only the best for him. He would never give her a bad piece of advice.
In the meantime, Jerisson went on to make arrangements.
The king's death was more than just tragedy. It also meant a funeral and a coronation...a lot of things to be done. If Richard needed a few minutes to pull himself together, he would get them. Tough times were ahead for him—just as for Jerisson himself.
***
Lily had to wait for her husband for a while that evening.
He came late, tired, his eyes sunken, his clothes reeking of wine. Still, Countess Earton didn't scold him, even if she usually discouraged such behavior.
Without a word, she helped him undress and held him close under the sheets, squeezing his hand. Sex was the last thing on her mind. Jess was clearly not in the mood. Her reasons were simpler. Sometimes, a person shouldn't be alone, under any circumstances.
Jerisson was on the verge of a truly hard challenge, and all Lilian could do was to support him: comfort and console him just as her father was currently comforting the "Old Viper" Alicia or Maria was fussing over Richard.
She was a smart girl, that one. Like Jess, Lily had given her a few pointers, and after Wellster, Maria was quick to trust the countess and accept her advice, especially since Lily was acting in her interests.
Richard would never forget Tira; that was impossible. Like his father, he could only love one woman his entire life.
Still, Maria could carve out a place for herself. She could become a wife, a friend, a confidante, an aide. If she did it right, Richard would pay her back with gratitude and appreciation. Was it a bad replacement for love?
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