Lilian Earton would have sneered at that, saying, "When the time for action comes, stop thinking and go in.” But that world had no Napoleon, and that quote never became known to the public.
***
Lady Irida Seinel was basking in a warm bath. It felt so good, so wonderful...
She leaned against a small, embroidered pillow and stared dreamily at the ceiling. She was in Ativerna. In the evening, a seamstress would come to take her measurements, and in a day or two, she would visit the Mariella salon to find herself a truly unique dress. After all, she had money, and society was hard on those who looked worse than others. Over the recent years, Ativerna became the trendsetter, and Laveri, the mecca of fashionistas from all over the world. Mariella had something for everyone.
Oh, and Irida would need a few lacy undergarments. That looked...exciting. Whom would she demonstrate them to? Oh, she would find someone. Definitely not Lofrayne, though.
A cloud came over Lady Seinel's pretty face. Yes, Baron Lofrayne...
She had met her match. Unfortunately, her charms didn't seem to work on the baron. True, he didn't mind taking her into his bed, and was quite good at it, too, but that was all. No gifts, no confessions, no praises—nothing. Lady Irida realized that none of that would come later, either.
Anthony would avail himself of her body, but taking her seriously? Marrying her? Even giving her an expensive present?
That was not an option. The baron was too self-involved for that. He thought that access to his body was a reward in itself, and any woman who fell into his bed was supposed to duly appreciate that fact. If she hadn't, well... He would find another instead of that fool.
Irida wondered if he would find success in Ativerna.
On second thought, however, it didn't matter. She felt insulted and wished for him to get a sound punishment. Maybe the countess' husband could teach him a lesson.
A true woman scorned, Irida wasn't going to forgive and forget, even if the "perpetrator" wasn't really guilty of anything in the first place. He had never forced himself on her, and as for her not getting what she wanted... Worse things happened.
Tony, by the way, didn't think that he had offended her in any way. Really, what was it he had done? He hadn't promised her anything or sworn that he loved her. They simply made each other happy and parted ways; that was all. Lady Seinel was no innocent maiden; she knew what she wanted, and she got it.
Alas, that wasn't enough for Irida. Too bad, she would have to dedicate all of her efforts to Count Earton in Ativerna. Otherwise, she might have found herself a good match, why not?
But the will of His Majesty Entor was paramount. Or...was it?
Irida thought some more. On the one hand, the king's will was law for all of his subjects. On the other, what was stopping her? If she found a man interested in her, rich and noble enough and not too old...why not try? She might have her cake and eat it.
That wouldn't be a betrayal, not really. Just insurance, in case something happened.
Irida stretched her long leg out of the bath and admired it. What a beauty! She was gorgeous, and nobody was immune to her.
As for Lofrayne... Well, what about him? She simply hadn't had the time to go all-in on him. If she truly wanted, Lofrayne would fall at her feet. She just had to find a key to his heart.
Irida threw her head back and closed her eyes. She was dreaming of a bright and prosperous future.
***
The funeral of the late king and the coronation of the new one, were far from intimate events. Those were ceremonies with a strict set of rules.
A merchant or a carpenter might be able to bury their loved ones in private, grieve together with their families, and never show their feelings to anyone, but the king had no such opportunity.
He was a sovereign. All he did was for the good of his country. The kings who thought differently never stayed on the throne for long. The king had no personal life, only politics. Getting married, falling in love, living, dying—all of that happened according to protocol, the international one.
Politics was a nasty beast. It bit, barked, tore your soul to pieces, but you had to toe the line and please everyone, especially your own subjects.
And thus, His Majesty Edward's funeral became a spectacle. His coffin was carried through the streets so that the people could say their goodbyes to him. Richard and Maria were the first in line behind the coffin, followed by the princesses. Jerisson Earton and his wife came next—an unprecedented honor—and were trailed by dukes, counts, barons...
Nobody seemed to be jealous of Jerisson. Everyone knew that it was Lilian Earton who had summoned the famous healer that gifted His Majesty with a few more years of his life. They also heard about the alliance with the Virmans, about the trading house, about her inventions... Truly, the countess was a useful person all around. There was no point in crossing her. As for the truth—that Richard was simply giving a son the chance to say the final farewell to his father—Jess didn't know that. He might have a hunch, but he never voiced it.
Alicia and August were walking in their own places befitting the dowager Countess Earton and Baron Brocklend. They still weren't married, despite the protests of Pastor Vopler, who still hoped to steer them in the right path. How could they live in sin? Aldonai didn't approve of that!
The guards escorted the coffin on both sides, hoping to prevent people from diving under the feet of the procession or the horses while throwing generous piles of coins everywhere: copper, silver, even some gold.
People weren't fighting over the coins, not even picking them up until the cortege left.
Edward was loved. During his reign, there had been no wars, only peace and calm. No hunger, no disease...what else would commoners want? Nothing, really, aside from low taxes, although Edward had never raised them, either. He even abolished a few, while salt dropped in price, which was as good a cause as any to love the old king. Nobody was sure what would happen after Richard's ascension.
For common people, it was all very distant. The king was on his throne, but their turnip was right there and needed to be sown and harvested, while bread had to be reaped and ground. Everyday work was much more important than any king whom they might never get to see in their life, and even if they did, they might not like it.
On the other hand, who knew what would happen? The country froze on the edge like a coin on its ridge, but where would it land? Heads? Tails? Even Richard himself had no idea. He wanted to be a just, peaceful, and wise ruler, but everyone knew where a road paved with good intentions led. Richard, at least, did. He had been told.
The green ribbon wound around the houses until reaching the temple. Aldon Roman was already waiting to start the service. Later, Edward's body would be lowered into the dungeon into the tomb shared by all kings of Ativerna from the very first one.
Such was the custom, and it would continue while the country itself existed.
***
Lily wept, not hiding her tears. They ran down her face, soaking her lacy handkerchief. Jess held her up, which was quite convenient for both of them. It comforted Lily and allowed him to distract himself with caring about his wife. After all, she was a woman, weak and fragile, prone to tearing up...
Lily could have said a lot to her husband, such as about women carrying enough on their backs to kill a horse or about "female hysterics." She could, but she didn't. Such were the rules of the game in that world, and she couldn't truly break them all by herself.
Her husband did know very well what to expect from her, their marriage being as equal as possible, basically a partnership. They respected and appreciated each other; what else could she want?
It didn't really matter what they pretended to be in public. The people saw Count Earton supporting his wife, so what if, in reality, Lilian allowed herself to crack to keep her husband from breaking apart? That was par for the course. Who cared about that?
Lily surveyed the temple from behind the veil attached to a coquettish green hat with a white ribbon.
A funeral was a good excuse as any to watch people, after all. His Majesty would have approved of that, too. The dead had only their graves, but those still alive needed to know about traps set for them by others. If there was a way to foresee or escape them, they should do it.
Act, Your Grace!
Lily examined the courtiers, noticing every little nuance of their behavior: the way they stood, the way they listened, the fact that some were waiting for the ceremony to end while others kept shifting from foot to foot...
A good doctorus knew people well and knew how to talk to them. How else would you get the anamnesis? How else would you establish the right diagnosis? Such was her job. After all, the prototype for Sherlock Holmes was a doctor.
Richard was genuine in his grief, just like Lily's own husband. Maria supported him, although her expression was harder than Lilian's. It made sense. The queen had to be her husband's pillar of strength. Richard was the sword and the shield, and Maria, the tent and the plate of hot food. A warrior wouldn't last long on pretty words. Anyone needed rest, protection, and peace of mind. So far, the young queen was good at providing it.
All right, she was still a princess. She would become queen a few hours later after the coronation.
Yes, it would take place the very same day, even at the same place. After His Majesty Edward's body was lowered into the grave, the aldon would hold the second ritual. Such was the Ativernan tradition. The country couldn't go without a king for longer than necessary—a day and a night, not a minute more.
Angelina cried tears of sadness, and Bran held her by the elbow, replacing the wet handkerchiefs. Angelina didn't even notice it, but Lily knew that the girl was in good hands. Men like the head of Clan Gardren rarely fell in love. Even white ravens and black sheep were rarer. But if it happened...
Lily wasn't worried about the princess. She would be all right. Even if she didn't know everything about herself, Bran would, and he wouldn't let a hair fall from her head.
Might their love fade away? Disappear? Not really. A man like Gardren wouldn't lose a treasure that had fallen into his hands. They would be fine.
Joliette, however... Duke Leroix was standing so straight as if he had something stuck where the sun didn't shine. His face was inscrutable. He was a conundrum, a man in a mask, and nobody knew what the real one was like. The duke wasn't touching his wife, who was frozen like a statue. The princess's face, however, was twisted in a grimace of genuine pain. She had truly loved her father.
At last, the body vanished under the lid of the coffin. The final words were delivered, the servitors pushed the stone slab aside, and the coffin was lowered into the tomb to the sound of music.
Lily once again regretted not knowing physics. Otherwise, she might have built a winding machine or something.
Too bad, really. It just wasn't her thing. Now, medicine, biology, chemistry—she knew them all well enough to answer a question even if woken up in the middle of the night. She was versed in arithmetic, too, although not advanced math. Why would a doctor need integrals?
Physics, however, had always been beyond her.
***
The coronation. Richard and Maria, anointed with consecrated oil. The crowns put on their heads, one dark-haired and one blond. The aldon's blessing. It was all beautiful, bright, and majestic.
Green was the color of mourning, but it was also the color of life, and life went on no matter what. The procession left the temple.
They walked back into the palace on foot, too, without any carriages or horses. The people, however, didn't complain. Being a part of an event like that was an honor. Richard had even removed several persons from the list for various reasons.
Lily once again praised herself for wearing comfortable shoes and took her place next to her husband. What a day... Too bad, she couldn't eat anything. It had been so stupid of her, not even putting a sandwich or a piece of cheese into her pocket! Or maybe a handful of nuts, like in the old times. In college, she used to buy peanuts and pour them into her pocket so she could eat them in class when she got hungry. College students, after all, were generally pretty poor, even if her parents tried to help. Peanuts were cheap, nutritious, and didn't damage teeth.
Yet she hadn't thought of that. Well then, go ahead and starve, you idiot! Or wait for the reception. What choice did she have, though?
Lily grimly called it a fasting day and once again wiped tears from her face. She wondered how women wearing "organic" make-up made from soot, beetroot, and ceruse fared. They probably didn't cry, unlike her.
Goodbye, Your Majesty. Farewell.
***
In the palace, everything was ready: the hall where everyone poured into, the throne, the musicians...
Per tradition, the first toast was pledged to the late king, Aldonai take his soul. The second was given to the new one. The third, if it was possible, was to the queen. Afterward, it was a free-for-all.
Lily wasn't going to drink at all, and she had mastered the art of emptying her glass on the sly back in her college years. Oh, those golden days! Who hadn't gotten drunk under the table on a dare? Who hadn't been provoked into drinking at a party, sometimes with hostile intentions? Lily knew her limit well, but drinking on an empty stomach after a whole day on the move? She would have gotten hammered on yogurt!
And so, three rounds of drinks were safely poured under the table, while Lily dedicated her undivided attention to the meat cooked in a complex sauce.
Servants slipped around the tables, bringing food to the noble guests. The musicians played quiet tunes.
Richard and Maria were sitting at the head of the table, as custom dictated. They had to stay there for an hour before they were allowed to leave.
In fact, nobody really needed the king on that day. There were better things to do, like dancing, resting, or eating various delicacies—the cooks had outdone themselves, really. There was even a special coronation menu.
Lily wryly thought that the entire tradition had been designed by a really smart person.
The kingdom wouldn't go bankrupt on festivities, seeing as the funeral was combined with the coronation, while the courtiers, dead on their feet after a hard day, would quickly get drunk, allowing one to figure out their true opinion. After all, a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, and calculating your limit after such a day was quite difficult. Lily could bet her boots on the room having lots of Hans' guys, which she approved of. Who knew what could happen? Any ruler needed blackmail material, and those circumstances were no worse than any other.
As for the next day... In the morning, everything would go on like always, only instead of King Edward, the people would have King Richard, no other difference.
It would be the same for Richard himself, too. He had been taking up his father's affairs for a while already, basically all but ruling the country over the last two years. Alas, medicine wasn't all-powerful, no matter how Lily wished for it to be.
She glanced at her husband and realized that they would have to spend the night at the palace. Jess was already tipsy. A few more glasses and he would be wasted.
No, she wouldn't drag him home, not that night. Thankfully, Richard had given them rooms in the palace. Currently, they contained all of their children, whom Lily had brought to say goodbye to the king. After all, he was their grandfather, even if none of them knew that. Edward would have loved that, too.
Mirrie even sobbed quite sincerely. She loved the king.
Ah, whatever. So what if the children were there? No matter. They had once spent a night in a tent, all seven of them, and survived. Six rooms were quite enough for two adults and four children. That wasn't a problem.
Well, and also dogs and mongooses.
Lily sighed and pulled Jerisson to the dance floor before he poured himself more wine. He really needed a break.
***
Horatio Alden pulled Anthony Lofrayne aside behind a pillar.
"I assume that introducing you right now would be too premature?"
&
nbsp; "Y-yes...is this Countess Earton?"
"Yes. The man with her is the count."
Tony feasted his eyes on the blonde.
Aldonai! Thank you! That woman was definitely worthy of his attention. Tall, well-built, with amazing breasts and a figure barely hidden by the luxurious dress, golden locks, and a lovely, even if tear-stricken, face...
Well, the last thing made sense. His Majesty had died, and nobody was sure about the new broom. The count was supposed to be friends with Richard, but what if he wasn't? Tony had to make some inquiries.
What else could he say about Lilian Earton? Her green dress fit her ridiculously well, as did her hairdo and the small hat on her head. Her emerald jewelry showed off her wealth. A lacy veil, a lacy ribbon in her hair...
The count was right next to her. Tony took a closer look. How about that? Her Grace was seemingly chaperoning His Grace, holding him by the elbow and watching his movements. She wasn't stopping him from grieving and getting drunk, wasn't pushing her sympathy down his throat—she was just there for him. Interesting.
"You were right. It's not the time or the place for introductions."
"Yes. Later."
Alden disappeared, and Tony kept watching her. He liked the countess, although something about her bothered him: maybe the way she turned her head, or gazed from under her long eyelashes, or maybe...no, he couldn't quite figure it out. Still, it was going to be a thrilling hunt with a worthy prey. What else did he need?
Nothing. Let us begin!
As if sensing a close stare, Lilian shifted her shoulders, fending off an invisible fly, and Tony almost gasped in admiration. Her bosom was something else, indeed. A woman with such breasts could be forgiven a lot. The baron's fingers twitched as if sensing a supple warmth. Gorgeous...
He wondered what she was like in bed. Was she quiet or a screamer? A huntress or prey? He would love to find it out. What a rare opportunity—being paid and given the king's favor while receiving pleasure.
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