The Price of Happiness: A Strong Woman in the Middle Ages (A Medieval Tale Book 5)

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The Price of Happiness: A Strong Woman in the Middle Ages (A Medieval Tale Book 5) Page 39

by Lina J. Potter


  She didn’t consider herself better or worse than the rest. She was simply different, like a green man among white people, she was forever doomed to be an amusing alien.

  The depths of her soul would remain with her. One day, she would tell her children fairytales about the other world. Her past reality would turn into a bedtime story for their children. She was expecting Jerisson’s child.

  ***

  “Countess.”

  “Baron.”

  Hans bowed. The courtiers exchanged surprised glances. There were no indifferent faces. He wasn’t a leir anymore. Having received a title for destroying the conspiracy, Hans was full of new projects and ideas. Lily told him about criminology, fingerprints, about a special coal powder, about smells and how to preserve them, and so on. Together with Miranda, he listened to the stories about Sherlock Holmes with careful attention. As a result, Hans was appointed chief of the secret royal service. They gave him the task of establishing the new secret service.

  If he succeeded in this task, the king would make him a count. If he failed, he could die from excess iron in the stomach. He was required to create the second Scotland Yard. After all, this world was full of poisoning and murders. The closest analogy to Hans’ service would have been the squad of Louis XIV in charge of Gabriel Nicolas de la Reynie. It would take time to create something similar from scratch. Yet, he had to start with something.

  If they had properly investigated Prince Edmund’s murder, Amalia would have known that it was her father who had killed him. Perhaps if she had known, she wouldn’t have sought revenge. Perhaps there would have been none of that bloody merry-go-round in the kingdom.

  Thus, Hans worked day and night, employed new people and set up a network of whistleblowers. He created from scratch something that was unreal to create in one year. Yet somebody had to start.

  For this very reason, nobody liked Hans, but everyone respected and feared him. The man himself was indifferent to the haters. He had everything he needed to make his own happiness. He had his favorite trade, and maybe in a thousand years, they would remember him for starting something revolutionary. He had a high title and social status. He wasn’t a simple royal trustee any more, without land and title; he was now a baron. If he did a good job, the king would make him a count, and maybe even a duke.

  Marcia was glowing with happiness, and Hans flourished next to her. He dreamed of having a child with her. He could protect his family. He wanted a lot of sons, at least five or six. Hans firmly believed that passions, quarrels, fights and scandals, jealousy and drama were good with a mistress. The home was a safe haven, a shelter, of comfort and peace.

  People want different things, but he found what he had been looking for. He didn’t care about Marcia’s origin. All he cared about was love, not the titles.

  August Broklend was also going to marry. His chosen one was the widow of Earton. Alicia also glowed with happiness, and the courtiers changed her nickname to a “viperess in love.” The courtiers hissed and effused poison, only nobody cared for it. His Majesty favored the Countess of Earton and gave her his blessing and permission to marry. Jess was happy with his mother. Although those last months hadn’t exactly made them closer, they still began to understand each other better. They now communicated more warmly and freely.

  As for His Majesty, Edward didn’t properly recover from the conspiracy. Looking at him, Lily gave him three or four more years to live. He wouldn’t last longer.

  Lily’s relationship with Richard was difficult. She adored his new bride. The girl was a dark-haired and charming young imp. She was mischievous and crazy, but never evil. Her smile stretched from ear to ear, her hair curled up in little ringlets, her eyes sparked, and her tongue asked around a hundred questions a minute. Her questions could be answered with a smile. Everybody liked her: Angelina, Joliette, and even Richard himself.

  Jerisson didn’t know who stood behind the conspiracy with the Ivelens. The king told Richard everything, so the prince and the countess took great care when talking to each other. Their secret was like a bag of rotten apples that could be overturned at any moment. Neither of them wanted to confront the other, for fear of making a mistake. One wouldn’t be able to take back what had been said.

  Lily’s relationship with the princesses was much easier, for they became regular visitors of the salon Mariella.

  ***

  “Everything here is so wonderful!” Angelina was almost an adult. How quickly the children had grown up.

  “Your Highness, you look brilliant today.”

  “Thank you! Do you know that Father has already started the talks?”

  “What talks?”

  “The King of Ivernea has a lot of sons. He wants us to marry one of them.”

  Lily smiled.

  “And what is your personal opinion about it, Your Majesty?”

  “I don’t know! It must be exciting there. Will you visit the palace tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good! I want to listen to more stories about Lord Holmes. We have written down everything, the only thing left is to proofread and send it for printing.”

  “I promise to come over. By the way, have you seen that we also sell books here? Do you want to have a look?”

  “Where?”

  “On the second floor, there is an exhibition of books in the small hall. Do you want me to show you the way?”

  “I can find it myself, thank you!”

  Angelina slipped away. Lilian watched her leave with sadness. The children had grown up. The girls would probably be given in marriage to Ivernea, to strengthen ties. The Avesterras weren’t happy about it, but couldn’t do anything about it either. After the conspiracy, they had their snout in the fluff.

  Lydia frequently wrote to Lily. It’s funny, her new look made her extremely popular with gentlemen of the court. Reading her letters made Lily smile heartedly, and she decided to visit Wellster. After all, Gardwig had invited her himself.

  Life and everything in it was gradually falling into place. Lily learned to find a compromise with her husband, played with the children, worked, dined with the family in the evenings, and listened to the lecturing of Pastor Vopler.

  Secretly, Lilian dreamed of going beyond the horizon, toward the rising sun and to the break of dawn.

  The America of this world must be so different from the one I knew before!

  ***

  “Ingrid, I congratulate you on a girl.”

  The Virmaness smiled at Lilian Earton.

  “It’s really a girl?”

  “Yes. She’s most beautiful. What would you call her?”

  “Lilian.”

  “Yes?”

  “No, you don’t understand. I wish to call her Lilian.”

  “It will create confusion!”

  “So what? I want her to have your name.”

  Over the last two years, the woman had changed a lot—not in appearance, but in character. She was still charming like a princess from a fairytale. As time went by, it became clearer how and why that shy, domesticated girl had decided to marry a stranger and run away with him. During her independent life outside of Virma, her personality had developed and become more prominent. One couldn’t call Ingrid a shrew—she entwined herself around Leif like ivy— but she made the servants respect and fear her even without raising her voice.

  Lilian hadn’t changed much, except she had lost a little more weight. The mirror reflected a very nice-looking woman with a gorgeous form, who knew how to compliment her beauty with clothes. The double chin disappeared once and for all. The fat was replaced by muscle, and giving birth only helped. It evened out her hormones, and Lily was now happily smiling at her reflection in the mirror.

  Jess admired her beauty every day. He couldn't wait to take her to bed once the post-pregnancy recovery passed. She had given birth to the boy around a year ago. They named him Jyce Alexis Earton, the Viscount of Earton. Except for green eyes, he was the spitting image of Jerisson. T
he child was healthy and active. He could already speak, he learned fast and developed ahead of his age. He played with Roman and Jacob, pulled the dogs by their tails, and loudly yelled when his teeth were pushing through. To say that Lily adored her son was to say nothing.

  The first time she picked up that warm, desperately crying lump of life, she felt her child as an extension of herself. She was ready to sacrifice anything for his happiness. Jess’s attitude was a little calmer. It wasn’t his first child. He had Miranda. He didn’t know how to treat small creatures. Ingrid began educating Lily’s son from almost the first day. She had just weaned her firstborn, Sigurd, and offered to look after both children. As a result, for the most part, Lily’s love and affection toward her son went past him, which was to his advantage. Lily would happily stay with her child day and night, but her other responsibilities couldn't wait. Her husband, her other children, her friends, all of them demanded her attention.

  That year, Mariella Fashion House celebrated its second birthday, the institute of book printing was actively developing, and aldons and pastors were mastering the art of etching. Taral Castle was no longer enough to fit the whole of the production, and Lily had to move part of it elsewhere. On top of that, the castle housed the lectures for the first generation of doctors. Tahir and Jamie taught theory, and Lily gave practical lessons.

  They opened the first hospital in Laveri and named it in honor of the Countess Earton. Lily would've never agreed to name the hospital in this way, but His Majesty slammed his fist on the table and issued an order.

  The previous year, Richard of Ativerna had finally married the Wellster princess. It was a luxurious wedding. The charming bride wore white and diamonds. That day, the Royal Hall was full of smiles, flowers, and sheer happiness.

  Lily was relieved. Now that Richard had a wife, he would stop hanging around with Jerisson so often. It would save Lily a lot of nerves. She didn’t like the close friendship between the two cousins. Close friendship with kings was often dangerous. There were many times when Jerisson had been close to death. He nearly died on that ship and from Anna’s poisonous drink. Moreover, Richard was more sharp-sighted than Jess, and Lily couldn't wind him around her little finger as easily as she did with her husband.

  According to Lord Tremain, Jess had finally ended all his relationships with his mistresses and now devoted all his time to his family. He didn’t need any other woman. They were bland compared to Lilian, like cold porridge compared to a hot roast. He wasn’t interested anymore; it wasn’t to his taste. If only he had known from the start that Lilian was so incredible, he would've never sent her to Earton. He would have preferred to take her to Earton himself and have been locked up with her there, away from the world.

  The country was flourishing. They produced salt, amber, cured fish, made knitting and sewing merchandise, and kept peace. Emma didn’t steal, Taris Brok left a smart governor in his place. The villagers considered Lily a saint. They knew no famine or hardship.

  Earton Castle was polished and renewed, with new glass windows in place of the old wooden shutters.

  Cozy and tranquil, how much it differed from the dirty pigsty she had once found herself in when she first saw that world.

  And yet, Lily didn't want to move to Earton…yet. The days merged into weeks and months of peaceful family happiness.

  I can call myself a happy person, thought Lily. I have finally fathomed the meaning of happiness.

  Pour out your poison, and dissolve our fears!

  Its fire so burns our minds, we yearn, it’s true,

  To plunge to the Void’s depths, Heaven or Hell, who cares?

  Into the Unknown’s depths, to find the new.

  Charles Baudelaire, Le Voyage.

  Epilogue

  Lily looked at the list, knitted her brows and signed the paper.

  Yes, our expenses have significantly increased, but how else?

  It’s my 50th birthday!

  She was turning fifty in a month, a milestone birthday. She could see it looming on the horizon. She would have to take the rap.

  On that occasion, Jerisson decided to gather all his friends and relatives in a mansion near Laveri. After all, it was his beloved wife. He took his own birthday much more lightly.

  Fifty years! So much time has passed!

  The woman looked out of the window. She saw her faint reflection against the thickening light. The years had been merciful to the countess. White hair was barely visible. Her light plumpness complimented her age and made her into a charming doughnut rather than a dried apricot. She barely had any wrinkles and had managed to preserve her teeth well, except her wisdom teeth. She joked that wisdom wasn’t her trait.

  Lily considered herself smart, but not wise. Aldonai didn’t endow her with worldly wisdom. She got used to referring to God as Aldonai.

  Lily sat back in her chair, half closed her eyes and turned a golden feather in her fingers. She remembered. Almost a quarter century before, they had uncovered the conspiracy. Since then, the opposition had quieted down, and Richard reigned in peace. Realizing that the service at court had turned into a sinecure, Jess began to devote all his attention to his family. He gave Miranda in marriage, arranged the engagement of Jyce, and gave Lily three more children, two boys and a girl. They were all grown up, some were even married, and Lily was going to become a grandmother once again.

  Miranda, who after all became the beloved wife of Prince Amir and moved to the Khanganat, had already given her seven grandchildren. She would've had more, but Lily was downright threatening. She demanded Mirrie have a gap of at least two years between each pregnancy. Her daughter wasn’t a machine for delivering babies. Amir was slightly annoyed, but he took Lily’s wishes into account. He did have a harem to keep up appearances, and even used it. He was often given concubines, with whom he rewarded his servants. It was a great honor to receive a virgin from the Khangan’s harem. All of the girls were carefully chosen and very beautiful. Although Miranda was slightly jealous, she tried to contain it. She promised to visit Ativerna with Lily’s youngest grandchildren, to give Amir a break from his family.

  Jyce—Lily’s son, her love and her sunshine—was six and a half feet of sheer charm and had been married for four years. His wife was a daughter of Count Laish and ten years his junior. Marion was a nice girl. She was a devoted wife and would go with him through fire and water. Jyce also loved her dearly and never cheated. They already had two children, and Marion was thinking about a third.

  Lily’s younger children weren’t married yet. Her youngest daughter was making active hints. Her chosen one was none other than the son of Lord Tremain. The eldest son of Hans was always a welcome guest in their house, as well as Marcia.

  It had been eight years since the death of Hans Tremain. Although he had been killed, his heir was worthy of his father. His name was Thomas, or Tom, a hereditary baron. He was a zealous successor to his father’s trade. He only lacked a cap and a pipe to resemble the famous Baron Holmes. The tales of Sherlock Holmes spread across the kingdom and became well-known. The people acted them out at fairs, which meant complete recognition. Tom was more of a talented loner than an organizer and manager like his father.

  He and Hans, Lily’s second son, became very close friends. Tom was more talented than Hans, but every Sherlock Holmes needed his Dr. Watson. So they worked together. Lilian’s third son, August Broklend, also a hereditary baron, followed in his grandfather’s footsteps. They used to say among people (at least about the ships) that name determined fate. It was true about August junior, who spent nights and days at the shipyards, nearly constructing spaceships. It’s funny that he also suffered from seasickness, just like his grandfather and his mother.

  Both sons closely resembled Jerisson in appearance.

  Nature had played a joke with genes. How quaint!

  Alina was the youngest daughter. She was a boisterous little girl with little curls and was adored by everyone. A real beauty was sometimes a real pain in th
e neck. She was already courted by many gentlemen of the court. However, the sixteen-year-old twisted and turned them like rings on her fingers but never gave preference to any of them. Lily didn’t arrange for any engagements yet. She realized perfectly well that with such a dowry as theirs, none of her children would remain unsettled. The question of how to weed out the dowry hunters was more relevant.

  Someone tapped on the door and Alina’s curious nose poked inside.

  “Momma, are you very busy?”

  “Awful.”

  “Awfully busy, or it’s awful that I’m here?”

  “Both. So what do you need from an elderly mother?”

  “Mommy, I want to go horse riding. Can I take Lidarh?”

  “No. Take Tashlah and enough of it. I cannot trust you with Lidarh, he’s still too goofy.”

  “But mother!”

  Lily threw a cushion at her daughter. Alina immediately stopped arguing and ran out of the room.

  “For the record, I’m going with Roman Ivelen!” said the voice from behind the closed door.

  “All the same, take Tashlah,” retorted Lily.

  Lily’s Lidarh had died ten years before. Nobody was protected against death. Lily had grieved terribly. At her husband’s request, Amir had sent her a gift—a young foal who was a little copy of her departed friend. Lily was moved to tears. Over the past decades, the Khangans had grown closer with the rest of the countries.

  Fortunately, the twins grew up to be good people. No one ever told them the truth about their parents. The version of the accident was enough.

  Lily looked through some envelopes that were lying on the table. Paper was her gift to that world. White, green, marked with various crests. There were already a couple of papermaking factories in the city. The village dwellers collected and sold them hemp, flax, and nettles, making a good profit or paying taxes with it.

 

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