A New World

by Lina J. Potter

  Angelina believed him.

  Abduct a king? She didn't doubt that her husband was capable of anything, and if he went against a king...well, all the worse for that king.

  Bran saw her faith and was prepared to stop at nothing to avoid disappointing his beloved.

  Save Countess Earton? That was the least he could do. He had to succeed, and it meant that he would.

  ***

  Left unsupervised, Lady Seinel was lost. Baron Lofrayne was gone, abandoning her at the embassy. What was she to do?

  Irida tried thinking as hard as she could.

  Maybe she should get married. Count Earton was still out there.

  So what if he had a wife? She was gone, too. The count was confused. She could offer him help find the countess, pull the wool over his eyes, and he wouldn't even notice ending up in her bed, doing whatever Irida asked.

  The best way to seduce men was sympathy, attention, and understanding. Those were the perfect bait.

  Irida came to the mirror.

  That dress really wouldn't do; it was too simple. She needed something brighter.

  Let's see what's in the wardrobe.

  She had a striped dress, a yellow dress, a wine-red dress...maybe the latter? A blonde wearing red was the ultimate temptress, a femme fatale.

  Wouldn't it be too early?

  But one could never be too sexy. The cut of the dress wasn't too provocative, either; only the color was. She had to try.

  Lady Seinel put the dress against her body, looked in the mirror, and summoned a maid.

  Half an hour later, the deed was done.

  Her airy figure draped in red silk looked quite appetizing. Her skin shone through the keyhole-shaped neckline, decorated with lace. Every curve and every detail were emphasized, and the long skirt securely hid her slightly crooked legs. Her hair was made in an elaborate hairdo, and her eyes were painted...what else did she need?

  She was dressed to kill. Count Earton was bound to relent, and victory would be hers.

  Lady Seinel carefully positioned a seemingly random lock of hair, smiled at her reflection, and left the embassy.

  ***

  Count Earton was home; she knew that for a fact. His family would be in the palace, leaving him alone, unhappy, and in need of companionship.

  Lady Seinel ordered the coachman to stop the carriage at the gate, and he complied.

  The gatekeeper answered quite promptly.

  "Yes?"

  "Lady Seinel, to His Grace."

  "Was the visit arranged?"

  "Of course," Irida said through her teeth.

  She couldn't very well admit the opposite, could she?

  The gatekeeper chuckled but let her through. The carriage rode ahead to the house. Lady Seinel stared at the estate with a measure of interest.

  The garden wasn't too big. It had a gazebo and an awning, as well as a table, chairs, something resembling an iron crate, and a swing.

  A large sand-filled box, stairways, both horizontal and vertical, all linked together, a yard...

  She wondered what the point of that place was. A training area for children? If that were her house, she'd never permit such a travesty. Now a rosary...

  Finally, they reached the house itself.

  Lady Irida gracefully exited the carriage (what if the count was watching her from the window?) and entered the house.

  "Milady," the butler said, bowing.

  "Lady Seinel, to His Grace," Irida replied, wincing. "Announce me at once!"

  "As you wish, Milady."

  Irida entered the drawing-room.

  It was gorgeous and richly decorated.

  The only thing left to do was wait for the count.

  "Well, well, well. What have we here?"

  The voice was clear and high-pitched and definitely didn't belong to the count.

  Lady Irida turned around and saw a girl...almost a woman, really. She had black hair, bright blue eyes, and two huge grey dogs standing right behind her. They were throwing rather unfriendly looks at Irida, growling and baring their fangs, but never quite attacking.

  Irida flinched.

  "I am Lady Seinel. I wish to see His Grace."

  Miranda narrowed her eyes. It didn't become her, and Lily always tried to persuade her daughter not to squint, but she couldn't really control herself when angry. Really, if Miranda had a tail, she would have lashed it, too.

  "And what is it you want from him, Lady Seinel?"

  For a second, Irida hesitated. What could she say? The truth?

  Something told her that Miranda wouldn't believe in her sympathy and desire to help. But before the lady got her bearings, Miranda squinted even harder.

  "Lady Seinel, you feel really bad for us, do you?"

  Irida felt like an idiot. She even half-opened her mouth.

  "You feel really bad for my father. You have nothing to do with this horrible tragedy. You're prepared to reassure him about your sympathy day and night. Am I right?"

  "Um—"

  "So I am. Well, then, you're late."

  "What?!"

  Behind the door, Jess choked with laughter, valiantly biting on his hand to avoid giggling out loud. Miranda had outdone herself.

  "See, Lady Seinel, there's no shortage of women willing to comfort him."

  "But I... Viscountess, could you please call your father here?"

  "I cannot," Miranda replied, spreading her hands. "He's being comforted right now."

  “How?"

  "I think it will take at least an hour," Miranda continued, unfazed. "Then they might come here. But I must be honest; you don't have a chance."

  "I can—"

  "You want to say you can find my mother? In Avester?"

  Lady Seinel nodded, confused. Miranda snorted.

  "Lady, be original. My father has already received two offers like that. If you'd like, he'll add you to the list."

  "W-what list?"

  "He has offers from Ivernea and Wellster. I suppose Darkom will be next. And the lady from Wellster...you should have seen her! Pretty as a picture!"

  "I'll wait," Lady Seinel said, firmly walking toward a chair.

  Miranda snorted.

  "Be my guest. Wait for him."

  The lady raised her eyebrows, but as soon as she sat down...

  "Aldonai almighty, what is this?"

  She had a good reason for screaming.

  Nanook, with his brilliant sense of humor, came up right to Lady Seinel and started to sniff her—slowly, carefully, and with feeling.

  Considering his height, he was almost neck-to-neck with Irida while she was sitting down. His teeth had never been brushed, and his mouth seemed enormously large.

  In a second, the lady was licked from chin to forehead.

  Her makeup gave up immediately, turning into a bright blurred mess that would have made abstract artists (if only the world had any) grab their brushes and start painting at once. Some of it also made its way to her hair. Soon enough, her fancy hairdo started to resemble a punk’s spiky multicolored hair.

  "He likes you," Miranda explained innocently.

  "Oh, Aldonai!"

  "But Lou-Lou doesn't."

  Irida felt warmth in her shoes.

  She shifted her gaze downward.

  The second dog was pissing right on her skirt with a look of profound satisfaction.

  "Eww!"

  "Lady Seinel, I think you should leave. Imagine my father coming down and seeing you in this state..."

  "I have to freshen up," the lady tried to insist.

  "Of course. The servants are all in the palace, though. If you'd like, I can help you myself...or would you rather go back?"

  Her blue eyes were full of sincerity.

  The lady imagined what the vengeful brat might do to her and realized that the round was lost. She had to get up.

  "I'll be back!"

  "Of course, Lady Seinel. Come in any time. Nanook's always happy to see you."

  "Woof," the furry mo
nster said, stepping on her skirt.

  "Whoosh," the thin silk said and slid apart.

  "Forgive him; he's very clumsy."

  The lady saw that it was only going to get worse and retreated. On her way out, she seemed to grumble something unflattering toward Miranda, but the girl didn't seem to care.

  Let that floozy trot around her mother's house? Make passes at her father? Never! Only over her (Lady Seinel's, that is) dead body!

  Miranda congratulated herself on being smart and praised her dogs as well.

  "Mirrie, do you have any shame?"

  Jerisson finally decided to make an appearance after making sure that Lady Seinel was gone, having entered her carriage and headed for the gate.

  "Of course I have," Miranda assured him. "Are there really any doubts?"

  Jess laughed and kissed his daughter on the nose.

  "No doubts, honey! You were amazing! How did you do that?"

  Miranda smiled.

  She was always good with animals, able to give commands not just with her voice but also by snapping her fingers, gesturing, whistling... There were lots of options, really.

  Fine, stepping on the lady's dress had been his own initiative, but the "Lick" command was given by Miranda. And while Lady Irida was distracted with that, Mirrie quietly signaled to Lou-Lou.

  As a result, the lady looked like every man's worst nightmare and rushed home to clean up, leaving the battlefield to Miranda.

  "The Virmans taught me. That's how they train dogs."

  “You’re such a smart girl."

  "You aren't angry, Papa?" For a second, Mirrie turned into an ordinary child and looked at him shyly. "I just didn't want that tramp to gallivant around here!"

  "Mirrie, where did you learn those words?"

  "Am I wrong?"

  "You aren’t. I wouldn't want that tramp to gallivant around here either."

  Miranda smiled at her father.

  "Mama will be back."

  "Yes. Until then, you can send them all packing. I permit it."

  Miranda flashed a bloodthirsty smile, and for a second, Jess felt bad for Lady Seinel. He wouldn't want to be in her place.

  ***

  When Lily heard someone scratching at the door, she jumped up, startled.

  “Who’s there?"

  "It's me, Your Grace. Your friend from Wellster."

  Lily breathed out.

  “So?”

  "Be ready to escape."

  “I will."

  "We'll get in a boat, sail to the shore, and land in Ivernea. We'll have to go through the woods."

  "It's not a problem."

  The forest was something that Lily had never been afraid of.

  "Dress comfortably and take whatever you need."

  "All right."

  "Wait for my knock. It'll happen soon enough, just a few more days..."

  Then he disappeared.

  Lily fell on her bed and stretched, bumping her head against the headboard. However, for once, she didn't care.

  If everything worked outright, in a few days (hmm, what did that "few" mean? Two days? Three? Four?), she would leave the ship. If only they succeeded!

  Lofrayne still hadn't visited her after her outburst. He kept avoiding her, never taking her to meals. Essentially, Lily stayed in her cabin all the time. They brought her food and took out the waste bucket, but the baron never came. She lost the opportunity to walk around the deck.

  On the one hand, it wasn't that bad, and she never liked talking to her abductors anyway. On the other...

  Her baby needed fresh air. However, if the Wellsterian wasn't lying, soon there would be more than enough of that. The air of freedom, as dramatic as it might sound.

  The question, of course, was if he was telling the truth.

  Still, it was worth the risk. But what if she unlocked the door to get six ill-meaning sailors? Just one hit, and they could do with her whatever they wanted. Or an assassin? Just for example.

  But who would want to kill her on the ship? Those people needed to get her to Avester safe and sound. She was their collateral.

  Whatever. She had only two options: take the chance or not.

  The solution was simple. Action was always better than inaction. However, she would have to avoid unnecessary problems.

  Lily stood up, realizing that she was too full of emotions to fall asleep, and took a walk across the room.

  Well, the word "walk" was ironic.

  Two steps forward, two steps back—that constituted the walk. If Lily weren’t pregnant, she would have done pistol squats, push-ups, any number of exercises. However, she had to limit herself. Maybe by the end of the voyage, she wouldn't even be able to stand up.

  Damnable Lofrayne...

  No, she needed to go for it. But what would she bring along? What would she wear?

  That was a stupid question. Everything. Pants, shirts, a dress, a cloak—everything she had. If they had to walk through the woods, every piece of clothing would go a long way.

  What about the other things?

  Well, what did she have? Not much, really.

  A comb, a water pitcher, a washbasin, a mug... Yes, she definitely needed a mug. What about the pitcher?

  Damn if she knew. A flask would have been a different story, but a pitcher... Ah, fine. She could always throw it away. It was pretty, too, with a silver engraving.

  Scissors, needles, thread—absolutely. She would put them into the pitcher and plug it with a rag so they wouldn't fall out. Not right away, of course, but later.

  Her notes? Of course. She could roll them down and wrap them into...um, some leather? Maybe her boots?

  She would decide that later.

  Or maybe they would fit into the pitcher, too?

  She didn't have anything else, even a tinderbox. Maybe they didn't want her to set the ship on fire, although what would be the point of doing that in the middle of an ocean?

  Oh, her improvised shiv made from a hairclip. She'd need that, of course.

  Scary? Oh, damn right, it was scary, but Lily had no choice. Sailing to Avester was an even bigger risk for her and the baby; it would be perfect blackmail material for her. She was still two months pregnant, not enough to show. But in a month or two...

  It would suck. There was no other way to put it. They would break her.

  No, she needed to escape. But how to take precautions? She had to protect herself from being hit or killed right away.

  Hmm, what if…

  Lily estimated the size of the cabin, took note of the way the door opened, and measured the distance in steps. Actually, it might work. That was better than nothing.

  She would try her idea out, no question about that.

  ***

  "Another victim."

  Hans Tremain was angry as a raging bull, or even worse.

  For how long was that bastard going to kill people?

  “Who?”

  "A commoner, but the marks are the same..."

  Count Earton shook his head.

  "That's a real predicament."

  "'Predicament' doesn’t even begin to describe it," Hans snapped. "We can't find that scumbag. The children saw Sarah get into an unmarked carriage, but that's it! Who knows what happened later, who was inside the carriage, whether it was that carriage or not..."

  "And no clues?"

  “None at all!”

  Jess cursed.

  That matter concerned him directly. Miranda was still in danger as long as that elusive bastard wasn't beheaded. Actually, Jess would have preferred if his body was burned, too, just to be safe.

  "And no ideas?"

  "As if..."

  Hans threw an angry look at the count, and Jess handed him a goblet of wine.

  "Drink and calm down."

  “Thank you."

  “You’re welcome. So who was Sarah?"

  "An ordinary girl, a washerwoman. Just the right type, looks-wise—a slender, grey-eyed blonde. She wasn't even fifteen! Son of a bi
tch!”

  "Where could that bastard have seen her?"

  "Anywhere. She took laundry from noblemen's houses, washed it up, and brought it back. He might have stumbled into her."

  "What kind of victims do we have?"

  "Commoners, mostly. Just two noblewomen."

  "One of them was Mirrie's friend. What about the other one?"

  "Elyssa Varent."

  "Elyssa Varent?"

  Jerisson thought a bit. He didn't know her.

  "She was a leir's daughter. Her parents are landless. They were going to introduce her to society..."

  "Why didn't they?"

  "His Majesty's funeral. The man who was to recommend them to Her Majesty was out..."

  "I see. They were hoping to make her a lady-in-waiting?"

  “Yes, Your Majesty."

  Richard nodded.

  He didn't mention that even the biggest ballroom in the palace wouldn't fill all such hopefuls. Maria was very picky with her retinue.

  "So, what happened to her?"

  "Basically, the same thing as to Riana Dilahn. She was murdered..."

  "Did she also meet a stranger?"

  “Yes, Your Majesty. Either on a walk or somewhere else. Her parents were busy and never noticed their daughter's frequent absences. One night, they came home, and she wasn't there. There was no letter, and her belongings were in place..."

  His Majesty sighed.

  "Hans, find me this bastard. Alive."

  Jess rubbed his forehead.

  Lily had told him somethings once...but what was it, exactly?

  "Just a minute."

  Hans glanced at Count Earton, who started explaining his idea.

  "Riana told Miranda that her lover was a bit older. Let's say he's younger than thirty. Agreed?"

  "All right..."

  "He has his own estate."

  "Or his parents do."

  "He's also quite rich..." Hans nodded.

  A plan started taking shape. Compile lists and sort the people in order of suitability—their income, ownership of a house, their age—and start checking them.

  Sooner or later, the culprit was bound to drop his guard and slip. And then, Hans would get him.

  ***

  It was easy to say, "We'll get into a boat and sail."

  Doing that was something quite different.

  The boats on board the ship were far from kayaks. They were heavy and monstrous, accommodating up to ten or fifteen persons. They were also tied down to the deck well enough to present a challenge. Pushing them into the water