“Do you mean your teacher told you to treat miscarriage by letting a woman’s blood and then giving her emetics and enemas?” She spoke quietly to keep from screaming. Her self-control had abandoned her. It was the satisfied smile on the kid’s face that did her in.
“But you’re alive! I did everything correctly. If…”
Poof!
A pillow hit him in the face and landed on the floor. Another pillow followed, but it hit the foot of the bed and exploded, covering the doctor in a cloud of feathers.
“If you come back here, I’ll have them set the dogs on you! Get out, fool!” Aliya had forgotten all about being cautious and keeping a low profile. To hell with it all! I’ll bury this idiot!
By the time Martha came running in, Aliya had regained her calm demeanor.
“Take that away,” she said, pointing at the feather-covered doctor. “Don’t let him in here again.”
Martha didn’t bother arguing. She simply dragged the doctor out of the room. Ten minutes later, two snickering servant girls came in to clean up the feathers.
Aliya gave them a cannibalistic smile. Still riding high on her bad mood, she issued more orders: wash the windows, take down the curtains and the bed canopy and wash them, dust the shelves and under the bed.
The girls followed her orders to the letter. For a while, she sat back and watched them. She decided that the time had come to get up and go outside. Her nanny didn’t see anything too outrageous in her behavior, and the servant girls obeyed her.
But since her heart was still racing from the doctor’s visit and it looked to be about five in the evening, judging by the sun, and she believed mornings were the best time to start important projects (except for Monday morning), Aliya decided to start her new life the next day.
For the moment, she would put the book back and think about where to begin.
***
Anna Wellster went to the mirror. She fixed her hair and checked the folds of her dress where it stretched across her chest.
“Wait a moment, my dear.” Her elderly lady’s maid pinned up a lock of hair and pushed her toward the door. “Your father won’t want to wait.”
Anna shivered, but she wasted no time. She feared and hated her father, and for a good reason. He was Gardwig the Twelfth, his Majesty the King of Wellster. Gardwig had ruled for over a decade and was known for his hot temper, cruelty and shrewd opportunism. He’d been married seven times and had no intention of stopping there. The Holy Throne disapproved of divorce, but they had to bend the rules for Gardwig. If a priest had ever dared to inform him that divorce went against God’s law, Gardwig would have answered, “As king, I am no less than a god. I have my own laws.” Any priest who tried to excommunicate him would have found himself facing a death sentence.
Gardwig won all the fights he started and most of the ones he didn’t. Other countries criticized him freely, but at home in Wellster, they tried not to annoy him. As a rule, people didn’t want to die just so they could present a list of their complaints to Aldonai.
In the end, Gardwig married, divorced and executed his wives whenever he saw fit. He paid his soldiers on time so they would remain loyal, and the simple folk were proud of his powerful image without caring much what he did. They were too busy planting and harvesting their crops.
Anna’s mother was his second wife. She had been executed. He divorced his first wife because she was too old, but he executed his second wife for cheating on him. Despite that, he recognized Anna as his lawful daughter and sent her into the country to be educated. He divorced his third wife for giving birth to too many girls. Anna had four sisters who were raised alongside her. None of them could stand the others.
Gardwig’s fourth wife died in childbirth along with the child. It was a girl, so Gardwig didn’t feel too bad. His fifth wife was caught cheating and put to death before he could get her pregnant. The sixth tried for two years to give the king an heir. In the end, she threw herself at the king’s feet and begged for a divorce. If she couldn’t give him a son, she felt it would be a sin to deprive him of the love he deserved and the kingdom of its heir. Gardwig met her halfway, and they put the petition to the Holy Throne in her name just to keep things interesting. The religious leaders grumbled a bit, but they felt sorry for the poor woman and finally approved the divorce.
Gardwig’s seventh wife proved once and for all that seven is a lucky number. Mila of Shelt, the quiet, gray-eyed daughter of a baron, with a long, thick braid of dark hair, loved her tyrant husband sincerely. She surrounded the aging Gardwig with loving care, making sure that he ate well and gave him two sons. To top it off, she was pregnant again. Gardwig seemed to enjoy his last marriage with no thought of divorce or execution.
Anna was sure of one thing—if her father learned of her dalliance with her teacher, he would have her put to death, and even Mila wouldn’t be able to dissuade him.
***
Anna knocked at the door and waited before going in. His Majesty was sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine and a plate of food. His faithful jester was on the rug in front of him. Anna had never seen her father without his jester, a small man with extremely intelligent eyes and a wrinkled face.
“Your Majesty,” Anna curtsied.
“Come on in. No need to sweep the floor.” He nodded at a bench by his feet. She sat down on it—bringing her down to the jester’s level—and kept her eyes on the floor.
“Look me in the face.” Her father’s hard fingers pushed her chin up. Anna fought the desire to close her eyes. ”She’s not bad at all, is she Harvey?”
“She has nice breasts.”
“Men like breasts.”
“You can’t keep a man with nothing but that.”
“Who knows? Richard is just a boy. He may fall for it.”
Richard? Who is Richard? Thoughts fluttered like frightened birds in Anna’s head. Gardwig must have noticed, for he explained, “Richard of Ativerna. He’s coming here with his ambassador. His father wants to marry him off, and you’re the right age. You’re not bad. You look like your mother; she was dark like you.”
Gardwig had a thick mane of golden hair and gray eyes, but Anna had dark hair and eyes like her mother, whom she had only seen in portraits.
“As long as she’s not a fool. Have you gotten mixed up with anyone?” The jester’s voice was calm, but he glared at her.
Anna flushed. She knew that this man could have her killed, but she was angry. Almost without thinking, she burst out, “Who needs me without a penny of a dowry? I have to alter my own dresses!”
“Idiot!” Gardwig spat out, his eyes flashing. “Do you think that coins and rags make up your dowry?”
Anna recoiled. She slipped from the bench and fell on the floor, but Gardwig continued to thunder away at her. “You are a princess! You may even be queen someday! Your dowry isn’t dresses. Its connections, land, and treaties! If Richard takes a liking to you, you’ll be the one handing out dresses and jewelry to others. Ativerna is wealthy, and I need Edward as an ally. Richard will be my ally after him. If you marry him, I won’t forget you. You can have the province of Bali as your dowry.”
Anna smoothed her skirt and sat back down under the jester’s mocking eyes. In a calmer voice, she asked, “Your Majesty, am I supposed to charm him?”
“Yes. After he comes here, he’s going to Ivernea. You’re the first one he’s going to see, and your job is to be the only one he thinks of.”
Anna nodded. She saw visions of balls, diamonds, and knights in armor, and above all, she saw herself with an elegant crown on her head—the crown of a princess, the future queen.
Oh, hell! Why did I get mixed up with Lons?
Gardwig looked at her for a minute and then nodded. “Go calm down. Speak to Mila tomorrow. She’ll fit you with dresses that will make you shine. I’ll tell her. You may go.”
Anna managed to curtsey again and left the room.
Once she had gone, the king’s jester shook his head and said,
“I don’t know about this. She’s selfish and stupid.”
“Just like her mother.”
“Do we have anyone else we can use?”
“No. The next oldest is just twelve. This one is sixteen. Edward wants his son married in the next year or two.”
“True. And there’s Lidia in Ivernea.”
“She’s plain as can be. Eighteen years old and thinks about nothing but books—an old maid.”
“Mila was over twenty, wasn’t she?”
“She was a widow; I got lucky with her.”
The jester nodded. He didn’t have the least respect for Gardwig’s wife, but he valued her. He saw how she loved the king and did her best to care for him. She was like a little hen on her nest, but she was just what the aging king needed. She wasn’t vengeful or sly. All she wanted was a home and children, and she gave birth to boys, which was a good thing. Gardwig would have lost his mind without the boys.
“Fine. If you think he’ll go for that snotty little girl, then I’ll have a talk with her. Will you permit it?”
“When have I ever told you not to do something?”
Few people knew that the jester and the king had been raised by the same nurse. They were childhood friends who considered themselves brothers. The violent, capricious Gardwig loved no one in the world like he loved his brother, and his brother worked hard to deserve that trust. Why is he a jester? Why not? He needed a day job when he wasn’t busy stirring up intrigue.
***
Anna danced back to her room.
A princess! She would finally be treated like a real princess! And if she played her cards right, she would be queen someday.
She knew that she was beautiful and intelligent. She was educated, as well, thanks to Lons’ hard work. She grimaced at the thought of him. Maldonaya take him, why didn’t I wait a few years? Because I always have to have what I want right away. Money, dancing, love, life!
Lons was poor as a church mouse so he couldn’t give her money and dancing, but in love… Anna shivered when she thought of Lons’ hands, his lips, his body. Suddenly, she froze. She was already married; that was a big problem. One thing was clear: she could never tell her father the truth.
***
Jess Earton—true earl, handsome devil, and warrior to boot—looked down at his sobbing child. He was lost as to what to do.
“Precious, don’t cry. Sweetheart…”
The little girl cried even harder.
“Miranda Catherine Earton, stop the bawling this instant!”
It didn’t help. In between blowing her nose and sobbing, the girl managed to say, “You’re leaving me here, abandoning me.”
Jess passed his hand through his hair. He adored his daughter. The six-year-old knew it and had him wrapped around her little finger. He had no choice, though. He couldn’t take her with him. He would be busy with work, balls, tournaments, and intrigue. How can I take a child with me if I don’t even know where I’ll be sleeping at night?
When he suggested she stay with Lilian, Miranda became hysterical. It sounded like she might be choking. Jess was afraid, so he gave in. “Sweetie, you just have to stay at Earton over the winter. I’ll come get you in the spring, all right?”
He didn’t mention that at that moment, it was only the end of summer. Miranda kept crying, anyway. It took a long time to calm her down.
While he held her, in his mind, he composed a letter to Lilian. He had no love for his wife and considered her stupid and unpredictable, but he knew she wouldn’t hurt the girl. His letter would warn her and maybe even frighten her a little. In the meantime, he tried to soothe his daughter.
Threats and Promises
It was around noon when Martha came in, and Aliya was doing squats in the middle of the room. She had just started, but she was already sweaty, and her knees ached.
“What in the world are you doing, Lily?” her nanny gasped.
Aliya grinned at her. “Nanny, dear, order a bath for me and find something for me to wear. It’s time to get out of bed!”
“Lily, the doctor said…”
“He’d better keep his distance from me if he wants to stay healthy. Nanny, I’ll lose my mind if I stay in bed another day. I’ve been self-absorbed for too long. How about that bath?”
Martha shook her head but didn’t argue. She left without saying a word.
***
By the time she returned, Aliya had completed twenty squats, twenty lunges, forty jumping-jacks and thirty sit-ups. In her previous life, a routine like that would have been easy, but in this body, it was another story. She felt like she’d been hauling bags of cement all day.
Her plan was to repeat the exercise routine three times a day for three days. After that, she would increase the intensity of the routine every three days. It would be hard, but she knew she could do hard.
After her bath, she opened the curtain and followed her nanny into the closet, where she had never been before. After all, she had been hiding out in a roomy nightgown since she woke up. When she saw the inside of the closet, she burst out with “Holy fukalite!”
She had picked up that phrase in medical school. It got the job done and had the added benefit of being safe to say in case there was a professor in the room. If anyone had asked, Aliya would have explained that fukalite was a mineral made up of calcium, oxygen, and silicon.
Aliya couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her closet was a room the size of her bedroom back home, and it was full of the most luxurious, beautifully made dresses—silk, brocade, lace, satin, velvet.
And all of them—down to the very last one—were pink and gold. It was enough to make a saint swear.
Aliya looked around the room and pointed at the plainest of the dresses. She silently resolved to find a dressmaker to remove all the gold bows and ribbons from the rest of the garments. She could do it herself, but she didn’t think she could keep her sanity in the process.
Aliya knew how to sew, knit and embroider, and she even knew how to work with beads. She was fairly good at crafts, but she had no intention of wasting her time on things like that. There were too many other more important things for her to do in this new world.
The simplest of the dresses was modest, with a high neckline and three rows of gold ruffles around the hem. To Aliya’s surprise, the fabric was plain linen.
All would have been well, but Martha informed her that she would need three crinolines underneath the dress. “But Lily, you can’t go out without crinolines! The priest would call you a loose woman!”
She would also have to wear cotton pants with a slit in a very interesting location, an undershirt covered with cheap lace that ended up poking out through the slit in her pants, and yet another undershirt made of something that looked like cambric.
Aliya refused the thick wool stockings her nanny offered and slipped her bare feet into shoes made of soft, pink leather. At least the shoes are bearable. They tied with ribbons, and since she had taken up dance many years ago, she knew she would get used to them. A mere two hours later, Aliya was ready to go out. She felt like a big, pink cabbage…or a Brussel sprout. Oh hell, nobody’s looking anyway!
The doors to her room swung open and ushered Aliya into the dark, dusty hallway. At that moment, Aliya decided to start the way her mother always started when they moved into a new place: with a big, spring-cleaning. She would have the castle cleaned from top to bottom, and during the process, she would learn the faces of everyone who worked there and teach them how she wanted them to do their jobs. She was in charge of this place—at least while her husband was away—and she intended to be the boss. The knowledge she had picked up while reading in bed would come in handy.
***
Aliya threw open the door to the kitchen and smiled sweetly at the servants sitting around the table. The four women and seven men were having a terrific time drinking wine out of large glasses, laughing, and gossiping. She had seen three of the men before when they brought in her tub and hot water. The othe
rs were strangers.
All of them were up to no good, of that much she was sure. Aliya knew just how much work was needed to clean a small apartment; in a castle this size, there shouldn’t be time to sit around telling jokes. One of the men had his hands all over the knees of the woman sitting next to him. Aliya wondered if she was responsible for paying for family leave when her servant girls got pregnant. She would have to find out.
Aliya took a deep breath and barked, “You idle, good-for-nothing, time-wasting freeloaders! Did you think I was too fancy to come down here? You were wrong!”
She scanned the servants’ faces. The oldest woman was probably the cook. The only man dressed in a color other than pink (he was wearing blue) was most likely the Comptroller. She could tell by the young girls’ faces that they were chambermaids. The girl whose knee had a man’s hand on it was blushing. If she got any redder, her cap would burst into flames. The three young men with hay in their hair and a barnyard stench about them must be the grooms. The others were house servants.
Aliya was sorry she didn’t know any of their names, but she wouldn’t let that stop her. She could get to know them while giving them an earful. “You’ve let things go while I was ill, but I’m back on my feet, and I don’t like what I see. This place is covered with dirt, dust and spider webs. We have enough spiders in here to start selling silk. Now, you three grooms, get up!”
The boys leaped to their feet.
“You’re lucky to still have your jobs for today. By tomorrow, I want the stables to shine. Haul out the manure, get rid of the spider webs and brush down all the horses. I’ll check your work tomorrow, and if you don’t do it right, you’ll be cleaning each horse’s ass with your own gossiping tongue. Now get out of here!”
She turned to the cook. “My dear, I don’t like your kitchen for the same reasons. The pots aren’t washed, the tables are covered with crumbs, and you let the servants hang out in here drinking my wine and doing God knows what else.” She turned back to the servants. “And you there, with the pie-face. Get your lecherous hand off that girl’s knee before I rip it off along with your head.”
Half-Demon's Revenge Page 45
