A New World

by Lina J. Potter

  The knife touched porcelain skin, making it bloom with scarlet flowers. The roses were everywhere—on the floor, on the clothes, on the walls, on her lips... The scarlet roses of blood.

  The man savored every minute, every second of the experience. He moved swiftly, playing with his knife. The blood on her underwear was scarlet, too. Later, it would grow darker, turning brown, but until then...

  Nobody was going to wash her things anyway; they would simply throw them into the fire.

  "Please! Have mercy!”

  They always begged. It was so dull.

  The knife touched the skin one more time. A stab, then another...

  She was a fiery one. She was still holding on. The man felt better and better. As the girl lost her strength, he became filled with power and energy, absorbing the departing life, satiating himself with it like a leech sucking blood, feasting on every second.

  Finally, she broke. Holed up in the corner, she knew that she would have no mercy. It was time to move in for the kill.

  Broken toys had to be destroyed; there was no other way.

  The man came closer to deal the coup de grace. But suddenly...

  In a sweeping motion, the woman leaped at her opponent. She had bet everything on that attack, and she would have succeeded...but no luck. The man gripped the knife in just the right way, and the stupid bitch impaled herself on it, immediately giving up the ghost.

  Her hand clutched at his handsome purebred face and fell limp.

  Filth. The man could barely restrain his anger. A drop of blood crept out of the scratch on his face... His face! What a bitch!

  The man fell into a frenzy. Swearing himself blue, he kept kicking the lifeless body. Well then.

  That girl had gotten lucky. She fought to the last, reached her enemy, and died in an instant, still believing in her victory.

  Was that enough? Hard to tell.

  The man kicked the body a few more times and proceeded to collect the mementos.

  That fool might have disfigured him.

  Wretch! Scum! Swearing helped, but the scratch still hurt.

  ***

  "Jess, I have something to tell you."

  “Yes, sweetie?"

  Jess pulled his wife closer and embraced her. They were lying side by side, the wind blowing over their naked bodies. Lily threw a shawl over herself to avoid catching a cold.

  "We're going to have a baby."

  For a second, Jess froze.

  Then he turned his head to his wife and slowly touched her lips with his in a long kiss.

  "Are you sure?"

  "I know my body. I'm late, and everything else is the same as last time. I think it's another boy."

  "Lilian!"

  Jess radiated happiness. If she put a lightbulb in his mouth, it would get enough energy to last a year. Lily gave him a smile.

  "I hope you aren't disappointed."

  "I'm happy. You're the best."

  "I think Mirrie will be delighted to get a new brother, and so will Roman, Jacob, and Jyce..."

  "I don't doubt it! I'm so glad, Lilian. You have no idea."

  "I can imagine." Lilian didn't want to mock her husband. "I'm happy, too."

  She stroked her still-flat stomach. Jess bent down and pressed his lips against it.

  "You're a miracle. Lilian, I've read so many books and poems, and I know that I can't express my love to you. There are no words. They haven't been invented yet..."

  "They have. I love you too."

  "No. I don't just love you. I live and breathe you. You're my heart."

  Lily bit her lip and gently palmed her husband's face. She didn't expect such feelings from him, but it happened. She even felt a little bit bad that she couldn't say it with the same degree of certainty.

  "Without you, my life would be completely different, I know that...and I wouldn't want to live in a world without you. You're the best, most wonderful husband a woman might wish for. You're a dream come true."

  Was it a lie? In a way, but Jerisson heard what he wanted to hear. People in love are easy to please. Just don't argue with them.

  But Lily wasn't truly lying. By a quirk of fate, in that world, she became linked to Count Earton, and she didn't regret it.

  Did she love him as she had once loved Alex? No. With Alex, she shared a soul, a mind, a heart. It was as if she was ripped apart, a piece of her left in another world. She would never have anything like that with Jerisson simply because they came from different worlds and eras. But they would have something else.

  She would live with Jess, give him children, love them all, and keep protecting her family—against the whole world if need be. She would die for them and still be happy. Was that enough?

  For Lilian, it was. She would rather leave the pretty words to poets; that was their job.

  “Jess..."

  “Lilian...”

  A long kiss, followed by a short trip taken by their hands.

  "Can we still do it?"

  "Yes, but slowly and sadly."

  Jess smiled, made a dramatic face, and sprang into action...while they still could.

  ***

  The library doubled as the study. It had a large desk, a small paper table next to it, bookshelves placed against the walls, an armchair by the window, and a small stand for bottles and cups by its side.

  Tony was leaning on the big table with Lady Seinel standing across from him. He hadn't offered her a seat, but sitting while a lady was standing was a faux pas, too. Therefore, both of them remained on their feet. They had a hard conversation ahead of them.

  Lady Irida lowered her eyes.

  She had just given Anthony the report on her visit to Count Earton. She threw her hands up.

  "It's no use. I've done everything short of throwing myself on him..."

  "Maybe you should have?" Anthony asked, narrowing his eyes.

  Lady Irida recalled everything she had tried and sighed—but didn't blush. She shook her head.

  "It's pointless. For any other man, half of what I've done would have been enough to take me right there, but not him."

  Tony squinted.

  "You didn't try hard enough, Lady Seinel. And I—"

  "Will you risk telling this to His Majesty?" Irida said, narrowing her eyes. She wasn't going to become a scapegoat.

  Tony gave her a nasty chuckle.

  "Why not? You could have seduced Count Earton, allowing me to inform his wife, and the rest would be history."

  "And you could have seduced Countess Earton. Did you succeed?" the lady retorted.

  Tony frowned.

  "You didn't," Lady Seinel triumphantly concluded. "And you'll never succeed. Neither of us can. And if you try to pin it on me, I'll do the same!"

  Anthony looked at his lover, realized that she would absolutely go through with it, and backpedaled.

  “Fine. Both of us are on edge... Is it true that he can't be seduced?"

  "I could just as well try seducing a statue of Aldonai," Lady Seinel snapped.

  "Lady..."

  "Count Earton doesn't need me. Now, say, if his wife were pregnant and he wouldn't have a woman for several months...maybe then. But now, it's pointless."

  Anthony sighed. He sat down by the window and rubbed his temples with his fingers.

  “Fine. Go, Lady Seinel. I'll stay here and think some more."

  The lady immediately took his permission and disappeared. Tony poured himself some wine and started slowly savoring it, staring out the window.

  He had to face it—he was failing his mission. He had been sent to Ativerna to peacefully get Countess Earton out of the country. He couldn't pit her against her husband, tempt her or her husband to cheat, or even manipulate her stepdaughter.

  The children were out of the question—the estate was full of Virmans. Thank Aldonai, the boy he had hired to plant the poisoned meat was unable to tell them anything, not knowing his employer's face. They might suspect Tony, but they had no proof.

  Did he have
any other leverage? No. The only possible solution was dealing with her by force.

  Tony sighed, spent twenty more minutes going through any possible options, and went to Alden. If he wanted to leave Ativerna with a bang, he would have to adjust his plans first—and to align them, of course.

  Although Tony was sure that Alden wouldn't like them anyway. He didn't like them himself, but what else could he do?

  Lilian Earton left him no other choice.

  ***

  "Anthony, you're out of your mind."

  Tony shrugged, throwing the ambassador an expressive glance.

  Horatio Alden was grim and frowning, and he had a good reason to. Still, Tony had the requisite authority, and winners were not to be judged.

  "Horatio, I have no choice."

  "You? I'd rather you tell me you haven't made enough effort."

  Tony winced.

  "Horatio, I've been here for three months. I swear, I've never chased after one woman for so long."

  Alden snorted.

  Inwardly, he was snickering at the pretty boy who had unexpectedly suffered such a rebuff. He deserved it, too.

  So you're used to all the ladies being at your beck and call? The joke's on you! There's at least one woman for whom you're but dust under her feet. Even if you dance attendance on her, she won't even deign to notice you, other than to keep her husband away from you.

  “That’s right. His Majesty has already admonished me for your...ahem...zeal."

  Tony ground his teeth.

  His zeal? The flowers were sent back to the embassy, and so was the jewelry. The Ativernans openly scorned his efforts, and after the antics of the little brat, the countess' stepdaughter, the whispers behind his back grew twice as loud. Nobody said anything to his face, but it didn't make it any easier.

  The only thing Tony could do was clench his teeth. He couldn't even challenge Count Earton to a duel—Richard had expressly forbidden that, and not because Jerisson was a coward, either—the count was clearly just as surprised by that as Tony.

  His wife, however... She was a smart bitch; Tony couldn't call her anything but that. At times, he dreamed of being in the same bed as Lilian Earton and making that haughty viper pliant like clay, and sometimes, he wanted to snap her neck.

  Alas, either dream was unattainable. There was only one solution.

  "Alden, I wouldn't have asked for anything like this, but I have no choice. If I don't bring her, His Majesty will be furious."

  "And if you bring her in chains? Will that make him happy?"

  "Well...at least, his task will be done. Convincing Lilian Earton to cooperate shouldn't be hard. After all, she's a woman. Here, she's being protected by her husband and the king. Alone, she will panic and get scared..."

  The ambassador looked doubtful. He had lived in Ativerna for some time and remembered Lilian Earton's first appearance at court. He knew what gifts she gave to the king and the princesses, knew the gist of the events in Wellster... Panic? Get scared? She wasn't someone who would do that.

  But Alden had no choice. He wasn't exactly in the king's good graces, and if Lofrayne wrote to His Majesty that the ambassador had been a spanner in his works...

  "Lofrayne, am I correct to understand this? You need to rent a ship: not from Avester, so nobody could connect us to it, but a reliable one. You also need to find a mercenary group to abduct Countess Earton for you. During this, at least a third of the group will get killed or captured, as the countess' guards are all Virmans, who have no idea how to give up. We'll need to cover the tracks leading to you and give you time to escape. Am I right?"

  "Your wording is as precise as ever, Alden."

  "Do you realize that it could start a war?"

  Anthony sighed.

  "Then, we need to avoid any suspicions."

  "This is madness."

  "Alden, I have no choice, and neither do you."

  Alden paused.

  "Give me time, Lofrayne. At least a month."

  "I'm afraid we don't have a month. The countess mentioned that she wanted to depart for Earton."

  "Won't it be easier to abduct her from there?'

  "No. Earton's teeming with Virmans, and we'd have to sail up the river Eart... No, I thought about that, and it's useless. It would make so much noise that a war would be inevitable. The king will never forgive that."

  Alden chuckled.

  The worst part was, Lofrayne was right. If he screwed up, both of them would get punished. Alden wondered where the king might send him. Loris?

  Loris would seem like heaven; after all, there were people living there. Entor might simply stick Alden somewhere far away and forbid him from going anywhere.

  What would he do in a situation like that? His own estate wasn't exactly ramshackle and decrepit, but it didn't make enough money. Alden did his best to renovate it, and being an ambassador was good money.

  Therefore, he would have to figure out how to abduct Her Grace. Chartering a ship wasn't going to be a problem, but mercenaries... He had his work cut out for him.

  "We'll have to hire real lowlifes, rabble and scum."

  "We have money."

  "Money's only half the trouble. The thing is, we can't be connected to them. They will cut down the countess' guards, and you'll pick up the woman and run to the ship."

  Tony started thinking.

  "It's possible... See, Alden, Lilian Earton rides to Castle Taral almost every day. We can meet her here," the baron said, pointing at a spot on the map. "It's a small forest far enough away from the castle. We'll set up an ambush, and while the mercenaries fight the Virmans, I'll grab the countess and ride away. If the ship will wait for us there..."

  "It can be done," Alden said, looking at the map.

  "Let's get to it, then."

  Horatio Alden sighed and made the final attempt.

  "Tony, think. Maybe you might get her drunk, set her up somehow..."

  "It would have been much simpler if she didn't refuse to eat or drink anything outside of her home."

  Actually, there was a different reason for Lily's refusal to eat. Morning sickness made sure that she wanted nothing.

  Last time, she had barely eaten during the first two months, simply having no desire to do so. Pickled cucumbers worked well, though. Too bad that the palace kitchen had none of them.

  Wine was out of the question; she didn't want any other food, and what was left? Nothing, really.

  Tony didn't know that, though, and even if he did, it would have no impact, alas.

  "Really? Nothing at all?

  "Absolutely. You can check if you'd like."

  Horatio chuckled, recalled a few things, and made the wrong conclusion.

  "Maybe. A few years ago, Count Earton was poisoned. Tahir din Dashar was barely able to save him, but lightning doesn't strike twice."

  "You think she's afraid of that?"

  "With women, who knows."

  "Makes sense. So, the mercenaries..."

  And the men started to plan the abduction. They had a few days of hard work ahead of them.

  Stealing a woman wasn't that hard. But doing it without leaving tracks and starting a war was something else. That was a real problem, and like all problems, it demanded a solution.

  ***

  Bran Gardren coldly looked at his sister-in-law.

  On the outside, the duchess was charming. She had blond hair, just like Angelina, grey eyes, same as his wife's...actually, the girls had a remarkable resemblance. Their eyes, their noses, their hair...even their figures.

  Still, Bran thought that only a blind man could mistake one for the other. His Angie was bright, sunny, genuine, and full of passion. Joliette, on the other hand... Bran's senses felt that something was off about her. He wasn't sure what exactly, but as a priest of Holosh and a consummate predator, he knew that she felt wrong.

  He didn't like that woman.

  Angelina's copy? Who could ever mix them up? They were completely different. Even her pink dress d
idn't make Joliette any better. In it, she looked gentle, naive, fragile, and delicate, like a spring rose. Bran didn't care, though.

  Was he a Beast repulsed by a Beauty? Next to the duchess, Bran looked like an ugly smudge in his plain black suit, but Angelina was beautiful, too.

  No, it was something else. Something different.

  "Duchess."

  "Count..."

  She let out a slight smile.

  Joliette was emphasizing that Bran wasn't her equal. Bran, however, thought the same, only inversely. He was a priest of Holosh and the chief of his clan. Who was that girl compared to him, even if she was a princess? Of the two of them, who was the strongest? Clearly, it was he.

  Joliette must have realized that, as her smile became even more arrogant. But Bran didn't give her the chance to sting him.

  "Duchess, you upset my wife."

  Her thin eyebrows shot up.

  “I did?”

  "You did. After you left, Angelina was distressed. This is unacceptable."

  “Really?”

  Bran remained unfazed by her irony. He had met predators much scarier than her.

  "If it continues, I will have to restrict your visits. They will have to proceed in my presence."

  "What?"

  Joliette jumped up, almost turning the chair upside down.

  "What do you think you're doing, Virman?"

  Bran didn't flinch, still sitting calmly in his place, but his smile didn't promise anything good to any potential attackers, whether armed with words or deeds.

  "I'm protecting my family. Angie is my wife. She has recently given birth, and I don't want her to be worried. Is this clear, Duchess?"

  "Angelina is my sister!"

  "That's why I'm not forbidding you to come, Your Excellency. But I'm asking you again," Bran said, emphasizing that word to make it clear that it was an order rather than a request, "to rein in your complaints and preachifying."

  Joliette narrowed her eyes.

  "How can you know what we talk about?"

  "Angie told me everything."

  "I don't believe you! You've been eavesdropping, haven't you?"

  Bran shook his head. He held no love for his sister-in-law, but to throw out a duchess and his wife's sister to boot...