A New World

by Lina J. Potter

  The boy followed the instructions to the letter.

  "What if I make you eat this meat?" Jerisson asked sweetly.

  The boy started kicking and tried to escape, but his attempts were stopped by a sharp jolt from the Virman. They didn't like poisoners either.

  Lily glanced at her husband.

  "So, what are we going to do with this weasel?"

  "What can we do?" Jess shrugged. "Is your father going to set The Lidarh sailing?"

  "Yes, you know that. So?"

  "Let's send this fool there as a cabin boy. I doubt he had a good life here if he had to earn his living this way. Do you have a family, dolt?"

  "I do," the boy replied sullenly, knowing that they wouldn't kill him. In the first minute, they might have, but they changed their minds.

  "Elm?"

  "Yes, sir!"

  Jess spent a few minutes thinking.

  "Give the boy a few cuffs and lock him down. Tomorrow, ask him about his family and go there so they won’t look for him."

  "They won’t," the boy grumbled. "Father's in his cups, and Mother died last year."

  "Any siblings?"

  "I'm the youngest."

  "All right, then. You'll be the youngest on the ship, too." Jess concluded and gestured to the Virman

  Elm took the boy by the scruff of his neck and dragged him away.

  The Eartons turned around and returned inside.

  In the bedroom, Lily walked up to Jess and hugged him.

  "What's with you?" Jess froze for a second, as such sentimental fits were out of character for his wife, but finally scooped her up.

  "Lily..."

  "Jess...I'm so proud of you."

  "Come on," the count said, embarrassed, as he knew that for his wife, those weren't simply words.

  "I am."

  Lily wasn't lying; she felt proud of her husband. Jess had accomplished a noble deed, even if it might not be obvious. Five or six years before, he would have simply ordered the men to flog the boy and kick him out. Instead, he gave him a chance for a good and honorable life.

  After all, being a cabin boy was only the beginning. Some of them, with time, even made captains, and The Lidarh was a wonderful ship with a good captain and, in all likelihood, a good crew.

  Lily would talk to her father, and Jess, to the captain. The boy would be fine.

  ***

  Horatio Alden was calm and full of contempt.

  Tony was pacing the room and fiddling with his handkerchief, making knots and untying them, while Horatio sat in his chair and watched everything like a cat from the top of a closet.

  Humans might be all fussy and noisy, which is curious, but get into that squabble? Give me a break. I'd rather just wait.

  "That bitch!"

  Another stream of insults followed. Alden winced and shook his head.

  "Could you omit the unnecessary details?"

  His reply was another series of expletives.

  Horatio sighed.

  "What are you trying to say, Anthony? That your mission failed?"

  “Yes! No! Aldonai, and..."

  "It failed, but you aren't ready to accept it," Alden said, summing it up. His tone was calm and melancholic.

  "I...you don't understand..."

  "What don't I understand? I warned you, Lofrayne. Lilian Earton only needs her husband. Nobody else, even Aldonai himself, is of no interest to her."

  Tony ground his teeth.

  "And her stepdaughter."

  "Miranda Earton? I hope you didn't—"

  "No." Tony's teeth seemed to be on the verge of crumbling into dust from the force of his bite. "I didn't touch her; it was she who—"

  "Made you look like a bedwetter? I know," Alden assured him.

  Tony gave him an angry look.

  "The little rat."

  "I hope you remember her fiancé?"

  Lofrayne did.

  "Mind that we have a good relationship with the Khangans...so far. I hope it won't change."

  Lofrayne rubbed his forehead and returned to whining about his misfortunes.

  "Alden, it's impossible!"

  “Really?”

  "I could have understood everything! Let's say Lilian Earton is afraid, doesn't want to have anything to do with me, doesn't like me...but that is unbearable! She looks at me as if I were a child! Do you understand, Alden? A child!"

  "Really?"

  "Baby's naughty? How cute! Baby's misbehaving too much? Whip him with a rod and go back to your business. You don't pay attention to the children's antics, do you? It's the same with her, too."

  "I didn't think it was so serious."

  "It's even worse, Alden. She's not even trying to keep me at a distance. She just doesn't take me seriously at all."

  “Hmm.”

  "Alden, please understand that we're in the same boat. If I drown, I'll take you with me."

  "What about your lady?" Alden changed the subject. He didn't mention that Lofrayne would never be able to drag him down with himself. Tony might spit poison as much as he wanted, but Alden had secured himself against that a long time ago. He had everything written down with separates notes for every single sneeze. If His Majesty asked, Horatio would know what to answer. As for Lofrayne...

  Those were his own problems.

  Anthony winced.

  "Lady Seinel is falling all over herself trying to get to her target, but it's just as pointless."

  "Really, she can't seduce him?" Alden asked, genuinely surprised.

  That seemed odd.

  Jerisson Earton had never been loyal to his wife both before marriage and after, entering every door that let him in. And suddenly, he developed a strict moral code?

  "She cannot. She's running circles around him, giving out hints...but he hasn't even given in once."

  "Oh."

  "We can't find our way into the Earton family."

  “What are you suggesting, then?"

  Tony threw the remains of the long-suffering handkerchief into the corner.

  "I'll talk to Irida. Let her try one more thing. If it fails, then..."

  “Then what?”

  "We'll be left with only the hard option," Tony stressed.

  Alden sighed.

  "Lofrayne, how do you expect this to work?"

  "I have an idea about what exactly I need. After that...we'll see."

  "Yes?"

  “Yes!"

  What else was Alden to do?

  Only pray to Aldonai for help, although that seemed just as useless. After all, lots of people prayed, and there was only one Aldonai. If he started to answer each and every prayer, he would be long torn into souvenirs.

  ***

  "He's not interested in me."

  Irida Seinel gave Baron Lofrayne a sad look.

  “Really?”

  "I couldn't kindle Count Earton's interest. I can sense such things."

  "What does he want, then?"

  "I don't know. There's something about me he's not satisfied with."

  "What a lout! The entire court is satisfied, and he isn't!"

  Irida flared up. But what could she say? He was telling the truth.

  She had agreed to come to Ativerna to seduce someone else's husband, after all, throwing herself at him and making overt passes. No need to pretend to be Aldonai's bride.

  Irida tried to perk her nose up and shrug, but Anthony didn't even notice her claims to independence.

  "Try again."

  "Yes, Tony."

  "I'll arrange an opportunity for you. You don't have to make him fall in love with you or anything, just shag him a couple of times...even once! I'll figure out how to present it to his wife."

  The nerve!

  That was the only thought in Irida's mind, but she didn't say it out loud. That might result in a slap, and she didn't want her face to get bruised.

  "I don't mind."

  "Great. And for now, come here..."

  "Tony!"

  "Get down on your knees."


  Irida glared at him but obeyed the command. As she stroked his tense flesh, she simmered with anger.

  She might be a slut, but throwing that flaw in her face was too much. The entire world was flawed, really.

  The baron soon achieved release, pulled on his pants, and left, leaving her alone in the room. She threw a pillow at the wall, then another.

  She would have preferred a vase, but she would have to pay for it, as Entor was stingy with the embassy expenses. Too bad; a pillow couldn't relieve any stress.

  Irida kicked a pouf, hurting her toes, sat down on the couch, and cried.

  She felt awful. What kind of life was that? One man loathed her, another neglected her, the third treated her like a whore, the fourth courted her, but she'd rather he didn't...

  It was no life at all. It was a nightmare.

  ***

  "Blecch!"

  Lily cursed and bent over a bucket once again, throwing her golden braid back.

  "Blecch!"

  She was vomiting in a big way, but why? She hadn't eaten anything stale, but the sickness had chased her since morning. Wait. Food might not be the reason. Where was her calendar?

  Somehow spitting out all bile amassed overnight, Lily ran to check her periods. Soon, her suspicions proved true. It seemed she really was pregnant.

  So what was she to do? It seemed obvious: tell her husband the good news and be happy. Nothing confusing about that, really.

  Still, it meant no more rides with Lidarh and... Fine. She would wait and check a few weeks later, not telling anyone yet.

  ***

  Jerisson Earton was sitting in his chamber inside the palace. He felt great. Peace, silence, and a bottle of wine on the table—what else did one need to be happy? Nothing!

  Jess loved his family, adored them, could go to the end of the world for them, but rest mattered, too. The Earton house had long since become a crazy whirlwind of people, events, and opinions. Noise, ruckus, scurry, shouting, conversations, someone looking for something...

  All of that was wonderful—no argument there. But it was so tiresome! Impossibly tiresome, in fact. Sometimes, Jess missed the days when Miranda was the only child in the house, sitting in her chambers under the watchful eye of nannies. Lily could take a break from all of that in Castle Taral, but he... He fled to the palace.

  Lily didn't protest. Let her husband rest and relax for a night; it would only make him appreciate them more later—and Jess did. Still, an evening like that, with a bottle of wine next to a fireplace, was perfect. Maybe Richard would come later, too...

  The fireplace gave off pleasant warmth, the fire danced on the resinous wood, crackling, and the wine, with its notes of cherry and light bitterness of wormwood, felt amazing on his tongue.

  Silence. Peace. Count Earton. What a great combination! Yet as soon as Jerisson thought about picking a book to read, someone knocked at the door.

  Ugh, what the...

  But who could it be? Richard had keys, and the others...he had no idea.

  He had to stand up and open the door, discovering none other than Lady Seinel behind it.

  "Lady?" Jess asked, dumbfounded, and got almost knocked over.

  The lady threw her arms around his neck, choking with tears and snot.

  "I beg you! Count, you're an honorable man!"

  Jerisson realized that his evening was ruined, closed the door without locking it, and dragged the lady to the nearest chair. She had latched onto him strongly.

  "Please! Only you! As a noble man..."

  Sobbing was interspersed with mumbling. Jerisson sighed again and poured the lady wine—incidentally, it was 20 years old and imported from the Khanganat. Such an elixir would really be a waste when given to that idiot. Why was she crying, anyway?

  The lady moved from sobbing to whimpering. Jerisson tried to clear the air and was told a rather banal story. She had been making advances (well, she called it living the court life) to all men, but the one who took the bait wasn't interesting or useful to her. However, he was influential enough to get rid of Lady Seinel for good. That's why she turned to Count Earton. As a powerful official, dignitary, and nobleman, he must be able to understand her—and help, of course.

  If only the count allowed her to announce that she was under his patronage... She would be so grateful, so thankful...

  According to her, the count was the only real man at court...well, aside from His Majesty.

  Your eyes, your shoulders, your lips...

  Her dress kept slipping lower and lower, demonstrating the depths of her cleavage. Jess woke up only upon seeing her bare breasts and quickly pulled the dress up.

  "Lady Seinel, what if this story reaches the ears of my wife?"

  His reply was another series of sobs.

  You're such a noble lord, and your wife's a lady, she's so lucky...could you take pity on poor Lady Seinel?

  Jerisson didn't have much in the way of patience. His Grace watched the plunging cleavage once again (nothing special, Lilian’s was so much more appetizing) and concluded, "Lady Seinel, I will solve your problem."

  "Yes?!"

  "I'll ask His Majesty to find you a husband."

  The normally beautiful lady turned into a fish, blinking and looking blankly at him. Apparently, she didn't expect that. Jess grinned and landed the finishing blow.

  "I just happen to know a leir who's looking for a wife. He has a lovely estate on the border, although his income's not especially big..."

  Tears streamed from her eyes at such force that Jerisson grew alarmed. What was it Lilian had been telling him about dehydration? How much water could a human lose without dying? Or were women different from humans?

  Ahem!

  He should never say that in front of his wife. But the tears kept flowing, and Jess became curious—how long could it last?

  As it turned out, not long. Lady Seinel realized that tears didn't help, wiped off her cheeks, and went on the offensive.

  "How can you—YOU!—offer me something like that? You...you..."

  The main thrust of her sobs was that Jerisson was the best man in the world, and the lady had fallen in love with him at first sight. She had never met such a handsome, smart, sensitive...

  Jerisson was in complete agreement: he was a true miracle. It felt nice, being appreciated. The thing was, that admiration could be strictly platonic, as Jess wasn't going to cheat on his wife, but the lady pressed harder and harder.

  Jess almost felt like a maid pinned in a corner. Fortunately for him, there was a knock at the door.

  Lady Seinel twitched, and Jess happily yelled, "It's not locked!"

  His Majesty entered the room.

  "Jess, you're... Am I interrupting?"

  "Not at all. The lady was complaining that she can't find a husband," Jess reported.

  "Really?" Richard asked, curious.

  Irida realized that she failed and decided to flee, quick on her heels. She jumped up, bowed, and rushed out of the door, leaving only a gust of wind in her wake.

  "What did the lady want?" Richard asked, narrowing his eyes.

  "I suspect that was me." Jess made himself comfortable in the recaptured chair. "Come in, sit."

  "What's the wine? Oh, Khangan Gold!"

  “Help yourself. There are nuts on the table..."

  "Now that's a loyal subject if I've ever seen one. No expense spared for the king, huh?"

  Jess gave Richard a smile.

  "Of course, Your Majesty."

  "And by 'you,' you mean..." Richard made a rude gesture.

  "Yes, in that exact sense," Jess agreed. "But her reasons are unconvincing."

  "What are they?"

  "She assures me that she loves me and can't live without me."

  "Yes, you're right," Richard agreed. "That's not convincing in the slightest."

  Jess snorted—thankfully, not into the cup, as spilling such wine was blasphemous.

  "Something bad is going on. That scraggy cat is chasing me,
and that Avesterian stud, my wife. Richard, could you take action?"

  "I'll try."

  And His Majesty emptied the glass in one gulp.

  Chapter 6

  "What's wrong, Angie?"

  Bran Gardren found his wife...well, not quite sobbing, but clearly distressed. She had a sad look about her, a labored smile, but the happiness in her eyes and the love she felt for him were real. The small wrinkles in the corners of her eyes, however, were new. He had to know who dared to upset his wife.

  Lying to Bran was pointless.

  After fidgeting a bit, Angelina confessed.

  "Joliette came.."

  "And what happened?" Bran kept pushing.

  His wife sighed.

  What could she say? How would she put it into words? When your beloved sister looked at you with such eyes...

  Did she say anything special? No, she hadn't. She simply patted Ian's head, smiled at Hilda, and gave a rattle-box to the baby, although Angelina didn't let him take it yet, as it was too heavy and he was too little.

  But her gaze, her tone... Angelina felt awkward and uncomfortable in her sister's presence. Something was off.

  "We used to be so close, and now...now, there's nothing left."

  "Ask her not to come."

  "I can't, dear. Jolie's so unhappy..."

  Bran shrugged. He didn't like that gesture, as it drew attention to his hunched back, but next to Angelina, it was different.

  Nobody else looked at him with those eyes. She loved him, and she didn't care about anything else. Even if his back were thrice as hunched, she would have looked at him the same.

  "I'll talk to her husband," Bran said, finding a decision.

  "What for?"

  "So he would talk to her, or better yet, get her pregnant," Bran suggested.

  In truth, he wanted to talk to Joliette himself, but Angelina didn't need to know that. Nobody had the right to upset his wife. Nobody, or it would end badly—for Joliette, of course.

  Bran thought some more and decided to first talk to Lilian Earton and then, Her Majesty. He didn't want to mess things up. In any case, Angelina was his wife, and he would never let anyone upset her—even her own sister.

  ***

  Another dance started, beautiful and deadly.