A New World

by Lina J. Potter

  And so, Lilian wasn't going to place any restrictions on her daughter's behavior. Mirrie was a kind and smart woman; she could figure it out.

  And so, the meeting between Miranda Earton and Anthony Lofrayne was only a matter of time.

  Miranda wasn't even surprised to get an invitation to dance. She hadn't planned on paying the baron any attention, but wasn't dancing a ball's whole purpose? She could grant one dance even to an Avesterian.

  “Viscountess?”

  He bowed, looking at her with his green eyes under thick eyelashes.

  How could she refuse?

  Miranda didn't intend to, anyway. Let her friends be jealous. She put her slender fingers into the baron's palm and floated to the sound of music, enchanting in her dress the color of a pigeon's wing. Her lacy fan folded and unfolded back.

  "You're a wonderful dancer, Viscountess."

  Thankfully, the dance allowed a conversation.

  Miranda gave him a sweet smile.

  "Thank you, Baron Lofrayne."

  "Have you ever been told that your eyes look like a stormy sea? A man could drown in them," the baron said, going in for the attack.

  He wasn't going to exert himself—she was just a brat. A few minutes would be enough for her to swoon at an adult man's attention, and then he could invite her for a walk in the garden, ask her about her mother...

  The baron knew one thing for sure: women loved talking about themselves. Indulge them, listen, and you could learn everything and more about the woman, her affairs, and her family, even the things she didn't want to tell anyone.

  Words were traitors. The choice of them, the emotions in them—all of that often gave people away completely.

  Miranda was supposed to be an easy mark.

  But her blue eyes betrayed nothing.

  "I have."

  "It's no wonder. A beauty like you should be surrounded by admirers..."

  "You're mistaken, Baron." For some reason, Miranda's eyes radiated humor. Unfortunately, Anthony didn't pay any attention to her expression.

  "Could it be that young men in Ativerna have no eyes?"

  "They have brains," Miranda retorted and stepped back in a complicated dance move.

  Anthony watched her spin around to the music, her arm raised, and his thoughts took a different turn.

  Miranda...he could seduce her, too. Why not?

  She was a beautiful girl, grown up in all the right places.

  It could also become leverage for pressuring Lilian Earton. She wouldn't want her husband to know about such a blunder, would she?

  The couples converged again, and Anthony continued.

  "I cannot believe in the intelligence of men who would leave such a pretty girl alone."

  "Oh, you should." Miranda's lovely lips curved into a sneer.

  "If I were your father, I would be scared someone would abduct you."

  "Thankfully, you aren't my father," Miranda shot back.

  "Oh, I think it's quite fortunate, too. You're so charming..."

  Miranda barely stifled a yawn.

  Alas, Anthony had chosen the wrong tactic of seduction. Miranda had no need to assert herself—her family already took care of that. She was loved, respected, and her opinion was held in high esteem.

  She didn't have to complain to others about her fate—she didn't mind it.

  As for compliments...

  Have mercy!

  She had heard a great share of them, although they weren't given to her but rather Their Highnesses.

  Each and every foppish courtier had thought it his duty to hit on the princesses, hoping that it would be he who would become the king's brother-in-law.

  But those dreams never turned into reality.

  Still, Miranda had heard enough sweet words to be nauseated by them. It was so much easier for her with Amir.

  Yes, he occasionally had similar fits of eloquence, simply because such was the Khangan tradition. Flowery words, gorgeous expressions, poems and hymns, those were everywhere. But Amir had moved beyond that.

  He accepted Lilian Earton as equal and later, although with an effort, did the same for Miranda. Aldonai only knew how hard it was for him.

  In the Khanganat, women weren't simply considered unequal to men—nobody saw them as even capable of thinking. Miranda appreciated that Amir treated her like a person. Lilian opened her eyes to that. She helped Miranda realize the importance of that step. The girl couldn't say that she was head over heels in love with her fiancé, not yet, but there was a certain understanding, mutual respect, and interest on both sides, both personal and political. Was that a bad start for a relationship?

  Passion, tenderness—all of that would come later. Miranda wasn't old enough yet...although, for Ativerna, she was almost of age. Girls as young as her were sometimes married off, and sometimes, those marriages were even consummated, resulting in a pregnancy. But Lilian gave her daughter a chance to stay a child for a little bit longer, and Miranda appreciated that.

  At that moment, flirting with Lofrayne felt boring. His smiles were laden with mold. Miranda might be young, but she was no fool.

  Meanwhile, the baron kept droning on about her pink lips and wonderful smile.

  Once again, she suppressed the desire to yawn and permitted him to escort her back.

  "May I bring you refreshments?"

  "Thank you, but there's no need," she replied politely.

  "Still..."

  The baron took a cup from a servant's tray and gave it to Miranda. Out of courtesy, she touched its edge with her lips and smelled alcohol. She didn't even take a sip of it.

  Alcohol was to be drunk only at home with people you could trust.

  It was said that wine made a man foolish and a woman loose. Lilian repeated it often and also pointed out all cases of drunk behavior, so Miranda wasn't going to take any risks. Lofrayne, however, didn't know that and gave her an anticipating gaze. And now, the silly girl will get drunk, and then...

  Then she was supposed to become pliant and easily controlled, as the wine was strong. She was hardly used to such drinks.

  "How about a cupcake?"

  "No, thank you," Miranda said firmly.

  "Maybe you'd like to take a walk in the garden? Such a beautiful night out there, and the weather is amazing, too..."

  Miranda was sick and tired of that.

  As if she was going to take a drink from a stranger's hands! Ridiculous!

  Lily would rip her head off for doing something like that and tell everyone that's how she had been born: headless!

  Lilian had done her best to teach her daughter how to be safe, just like her own parents had once done to her.

  Never take anything from strangers, never go anywhere with them, never trust a word. If anything happens, call your parents. Well, Miranda couldn't exactly do the latter at a ball, but she was quite sure she could manage without them.

  And if she couldn't, there was a special man tasked with watching over her in the same room. She knew that she wouldn't stay unattended. Still, why escalate things? Why worry her parents?

  No need.

  "Baron, what do you think about leopards?"

  Anthony blinked, dumbfounded.

  "They're all right, I guess...but Viscountess..."

  "You probably know that I'm betrothed."

  Anthony gave her a patronizing smile. As if a betrothal would scare him! That was so childish, so naive!

  "I’m aware of that. But how can that be an obstacle? Viscountess, to give a northern flower to a barbarian would be—"

  At last, Miranda grew angry. She didn't show it, however. Her expression became deliberately calm, and a sheet of ice fell over her blue eyes.

  "I like leopards too, Baron. That's why I'm warning you: you have talked long enough. In the Khanganat, they would set leopards on you for such behavior, and they would be right to."

  "But, we're not in the Khanganat."

  "Of course. That's why I'm not siccing any leopards on you," Miranda
said, her eyes narrow. "But I urge you to leave me alone and never approach me again."

  "You're so scared of your fiancé?"

  "I respect him, and I don't want to cast a show on his name."

  Anthony almost gasped in surprise. He hadn't expected anything like that. Curious, he decided to push her a little further.

  "And how deep is your loyalty to your fiancé, Viscountess?"

  "Deep enough, Baron."

  "Viscountess, would you summon your parents to moralize to me?"

  Lofrayne wasn't going to escalate things any further and would have stepped back after that question, but for Miranda, that was the last straw.

  "No, Baron. I'm quite capable of dealing with you myself without dragging my family into this. Therefore, I strongly urge you to leave me alone, once and forever."

  That did it. The baron wasn't going to take any threats.

  How arrogant! And from whom? This girl? What a heroine!

  "And what exactly are you going to do to me, Viscountess?"

  Miranda narrowed her eyes.

  "Last warning, Baron."

  Anthony should have taken her seriously.

  As soon as Lily started raising Miranda, the girl realized one thing: threats were pointless. All one could do was promise, and promises had to be delivered on. Making threats without being able to make good on them was pathetic and helpless.

  No, she made no threats, only promises. Only something she could do.

  "You're so charming when you hiss and protract your claws, Viscountess. Just like a kitten. I'm almost tempted to pet you and put you in my lap..."

  He shouldn't have said that.

  Furious, Miranda used the fact that she was sitting while the baron was standing. One quick gesture...

  That's when the wine came in. Thankfully, it was white rather than red.

  Anthony wasn't quick enough to step back, and even if he was...

  A large wet stain swelled on the baron's light blue velvet pants around his crotch.

  "Baron," Miranda said, not raising her voice, but somehow stressing his title. That resulted in almost theatrical speech, where a person talked not really loud but could be heard across the hall. "I promise you I will talk to din Dashar about your unfortunate malady. Don't worry; they can treat it in the Khanganat..."

  Everyone's eyes fell on Lofrayne.

  The baron, who hadn't yet realized what was going on, moved, looked down...

  And almost cursed out loud.

  You...brat! You say they treat it?

  Three seconds later, half of the ballroom was certain that the baron had a bladder control problem.

  Anthony had never been so humiliated.

  Miranda kept smiling at him behind her unfolded fan. When had she hidden the cup?

  That bitch...

  Crimson with anger, Anthony ran toward the exit.

  No, he had never been in a situation like that before. But what could he do?

  He would have loved to snap that nasty girl's thin neck, but at a ball?

  He couldn't do anything, not yet.

  Miranda pushed the cup further under the chair and feigned confusion. Really, he shouldn't have tried slipping her white wine, especially fortified. He hadn't even asked her what she preferred!

  She wondered what else that slime wanted from her. So he had been sending her mother flowers; was it her turn?

  Miranda stood up, resolute. She had to find her mother and talk to her.

  ***

  Miranda found Lily in Her Majesty Maria's chambers. The queen was in urgent need of advice.

  Alas, becoming a woman didn't always happen like in romance novels. Shyness, worry...there were lots of problems, and Maria really needed to discuss her intimate love with someone. Whom, though? Milia? Her stepmother was too far away. On top of that, even if Maria loved her like her own blood, treating her like an elder sister, she was still the queen of Wellster. Would she really give blackmail material to a queen of another country? One day, their nations were friends, and then they might become enemies. Politics: there was no getting around it.

  But Lilian Earton, she would do, or Angelina Gardren. The latter, however, was at home with her child. Lilian would listen, help, and give suggestions...and she would never tell anyone Her Majesty's problems. Maria was sure of that.

  She would also never use that knowledge for ill.

  "Mama?" Miranda asked, making sure to knock and immediately curtsey. "Your—"

  “Mirrie!"

  Her Majesty, dressed in a charming cream-colored velvet dress, waved her hand. She loved Miranda like a niece and easily forgave her for any blunders. Lily, who wore a bright yellow dress with green trimming, frowned but didn't scold Miranda, noticing her distress. Her child was fine; the rest could wait.

  But the child was clearly perturbed, too. Who dared to wrong her baby? Who had a death wish?

  "Maria, I'm sorry..." Miranda corrected herself.

  "Mirrie?" Lilian asked, frowning.

  "I just can't wait, who knows what might happen with Papa or—"

  "What's wrong with Jerisson?" Lilian got to the point. She grew worried.

  "I..." Miranda hesitated but finally dismissed her doubts and told everything about Lofrayne: their conversation, the dance, even her prank.

  Lily and Maria had a good laugh but eventually stopped and grew serious.

  "Ugh. He clearly wants something from us," Lilian concluded.

  "And we'll hardly like that," Maria agreed.

  "I don't want to involve our men," Lily said with a sigh. "And our relations with Avester are bad enough as it is..."

  "Yes." Maria was of the same mind. On top of everything, the trade route to the Khanganat went past Avester; any controversy was undesirable.

  "And if Papa gets angry and challenges this baron..."

  "That's the last thing we need," Lily replied, gritting her teeth.

  She hated duels. A duel might show who was the better fighter. But showing who was right? How was that supposed to work?

  She didn't want to risk her own husband, either. She'd sooner kill Lofrayne herself: slit his throat or maybe poison him...

  ***

  Was being scorned humiliating?

  Of course, especially when the perpetrator was a girl less than fifteen years old. Anthony was fuming, but the baron was smart enough to know that Miranda was untouchable.

  His target was another woman, a completely different one. If he stopped to talk sense into the brat, he would lose any chance to get to Lilian.

  So what would he do? Grin and bear it? Aldonai hadn't blessed the baron with patience and self-control, and so, Anthony started to plot revenge. Soon, he identified Miranda's weak spot.

  Her mutt—the huge beast that always accompanied her mistress—loved her and adored her. Really, whose idea was making a Virman hound into a fur rug, a toy for a spoiled child?

  Although Miranda had worked a lot on Lou-Lou's looks, too. Usually, Virman dogs were huge, powerfully built, and broad-chested. Lilian probably shouldn't have told her daughter stories about poodles, because that's how Lou-Lou ended up looking. She had pompoms, a lion's mane, a huge pink bow on her neck, and well-groomed claws. Her body was decorated with a golden belt. That said, Miranda didn't go overboard: despite the pompoms, the rest of the fur was only trimmed, not shaved off.

  Lily didn't mind. Why not? Let her be a poodle, even if a giant-sized. The girl had a right to enjoy herself. After all, what mattered the most about a dog? Its ability to defend its mistress, and Lou-Lou was quite capable of that. As for the rest...

  She might look funny and harmless; it wouldn't help those caught in her teeth. Actually, the less threatening a dog looked, the better. It gave it an edge.

  That night, the Eartons were woken up by loud barking. Jess looked out of a window.

  "What's going on?"

  Instead, she heard a few obscenities.

  "What's wrong?" Lily had already jumped out of bed and was quickly dressing. S
he never knew what to expect.

  "I'll come down and look. Stay here for now."

  "Pfft," his wife replied and started pulling on shoes. "I'm not going to abandon you here."

  Jess went outside together with his wife, somehow quite satisfied with the outcome.

  It was already quiet, and the dogs had stopped barking.

  "What happened?" Jess asked again.

  "Here," one of the Virmans said, giving a hearty kick to a ragged boy about fifteen years old. "This rat.."

  "Let me gooo!" the urchin whined, not really expecting the armed guards to have mercy on him.

  "Yeah, after I flog your hide, maybe," the Virman said between his teeth. Lily remembered that his name was Elm. "What did you put in the courtyard, scum?"

  "What did he put?" Lily asked, curious.

  Without a word, the Virman pushed something toward Her Grace with his leg.

  Lily bent over, looked closely, and shivered.

  It was meat.

  Back in her childhood, their town had a stray mutt called Buddy.

  He was a shaggy black mongrel but incredibly smart. Some bastards poisoned him, and no matter how doctors and veterinarians tried, they couldn't save him.

  "You..."

  The Virman's humble cursing couldn't hold a candle to Her Grace's violent outburst, and the snarl accompanying those words could have intimidated even the strongest of Khangan leopards.

  The urchin whimpered and crawled back, his pants growing darker in the front.

  "Who gave the order?" Jess didn't waste time swearing, even if he was just as angry as his wife.

  Of course, all of their dogs were trained not to take anything given by a stranger, but if someone tried to poison them...

  "It's not my fault!" the culprit whined. "He gave me a gold coin!"

  "Who was he?" Lily asked, deceptively soft. Still, that softness fooled nobody; she was ready to kill.

  "I don’t know! He was wearing a cloak, a large one!"

  “Hmm.”

  Going by the boy's story, a man approached him on the street, gave him the meat, a coin, and ordered him to throw the meat into the courtyard of a certain estate when everyone was asleep.