Palace Intrigue

by Lina J. Potter

“Only Her Ladyship and her two craftsmen.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “There is something else, Your Majesty.”

  Helke had outdone himself; the gold cup Hans lifted from the trunk was almost entirely encrusted with amber in red, white, and gold. It was an impressive piece, even for the king’s palace.

  Yes, it would seem that Jess’ wife has me on the hook now.

  Hans held out the cup. “Your Majesty, this is just a gift. I already turned over your share of the Earton amber to the treasury.”

  “I see they have found red and white amber in Earton.”

  “No, Your Majesty.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The countess knows a way to turn plain amber, white, or red. It becomes more brittle, but you won’t be using the cup as a hammer.”

  Edward shook his head. “The countess is certainly making sure that people will talk about her.”

  “She is afraid, Your Majesty.”

  The king looked up suddenly. “Of what?”

  “There have been several attempts on her life.” The envoy reached for his bag. “Here, Your Majesty, before I forget.”

  “Is this your report?”

  “I’m afraid not. Forgive me for being so bold, Your Majesty, but I think you will want to see this. It is also from Her Ladyship.”

  Edward took the parchment, unrolled it with a practiced hand and started to read. Before long, he looked up at Hans with wide eyes and then back at the parchment. Lilian had sent him a clear and simple description of the technology for obtaining salt from seawater.

  Ativerna had a single salt deposit on the border with Wellster, but the salt was contaminated with other elements and tasted strange. Instead, Ativernese merchants imported better salt from Wellster and Avesterra at outrageous prices. Edward laid the parchment on his desk and leaned forward. Hans suddenly noticed that they were alone in the room.

  “If the countess truly knows…”

  “Believe me, Your Majesty, I have watched her do it. She had her peasants build a salt pit on the coast, where they use the salt they get from the seawater to preserve fish. Salted fish is a true delicacy.”

  “I see. I shall make inquiries. For now, say nothing about this to anyone.” The king looked down at the backgammon board, deep in thought.

  Lilian Earton is behaving like a person who intends to be taken seriously. That may be a good thing, or it may not.

  He set aside the gold cup and the game and asked Hans for his report. What he heard did not please him in the least. The king’s envoy gave a full and accurate accounting of the estate manager’s thievery, the condition of the estate, the first attempt on the countess’ life, how Lilian hired Virmans to protect herself and her stepdaughter, how the slave traders attacked, and how the countess accidentally learned of the amber deposit on her lands. Edward’s face grew grimmer with each new piece of information.

  Jerrison told me none of this. He said the castle was not in excellent shape, but we are not at war, either. Who would have thought that a man needed a fortified castle to live in a place like Earton? It appears I have been guilty of an oversight.

  Hans continued his report. He showed the king Etor’s two sets of accounts. He showed him the statements Pastor Vopler had taken from Leis’ turncoat soldier, the slave traders and the Grismo family. He informed the king that he had turned over the guilty parties to the prison as soon as he reached the capital.

  When the envoy stopped speaking, Edward gestured for him to remain silent for a moment and began drawing on the back of a piece of parchment with one of the Earton pens Lily’s father had given him.

  After a while, he looked up. “Tell me, Hans, what was your personal impression of the countess? What can you say about her? Is she stupid and prone to scandals? Edward knew these questions made no sense in the context of all that had happened and that he had learned, but he could not understand why Jess had spoken of his wife that way.

  Hans offered a thin smile. “The countess is intelligent and kind. As for scandals, I must tell Your Majesty that I have never even heard her raise her voice.”

  “Her husband has a different opinion.”

  ***

  Hans’ face grew serious. He had never liked Jerrison Earton. The earl was arrogant, handsome, and self-satisfied, to the annoyance of those around him. Jerrison Earton was so sure of his superiority that Hans had a habit of imagining him falling off his horse. True, the earl has cause to be proud—he is young and handsome and very rich. He even has some talent. But even if you outshine everyone else like Aldonai, if you treat other people like worms, you can expect to run into trouble sooner or later. With that in mind, Hans enjoyed his small moment of triumph.

  “Your Majesty, that is a question best put to the countess. I can only tell you what I saw with my own eyes.”

  Hans kept quite a few things he had seen to himself, however. He told the king nothing about the countess’ healers, about how she had stitched up the wounded after the battle with the slave traders, about the Khangans she was friends with, or about her close friendships with the Virmans she had hired. He told himself that those things were not relevant, and focused on praising the countess’ wisdom and her careful use of Earton’s resources.

  Edward’s face grew more serious as he listened. Every now and then, he interrupted his envoy to clarify some detail or to ask him to repeat something. When Hans was finally finished, he nodded.

  “Tell my secretary that you are to have a room at the palace for now. I will send for you.”

  ***

  Hans bowed and slipped out the door. The king picked up the gold cup again and looked at it closely. It was almost a work of art.

  How beautiful it is, and how well she did to send something that I would want to keep near me.

  The game was delightful, and the lace was a simple, elegant gift, fit for a king. He looked down at the mirror and the instructions for evaporating salt from seawater.

  Lilian is trying to show me that she knows many useful things. But how can that be? And why did Jess tell me that all was well in Earton if the estate was being robbed and plagued by slave traders? How could he not know about the amber deposit on his lands? Why did he tell me that Lilian was a foolish, hysterical woman?

  The king had more faith in his envoy than in the son he called nephew, and Hans had nothing but praise for the countess, and said she was adored by Miranda Catherine. Edward had proof of her intelligence and inventiveness on the desk in front of him. Even if the countess had found old books that explained how to do these wonderful things, she had to be credited for actually doing them, which wasn’t easy. The king imagined how long it must have taken her to make all that lace. He knew it was her own work because he had never seen anything like it anywhere in the kingdom or abroad.

  What does this mean? Has Jess been lying to me? Is he incapable of seeing the truth, or does he not wish to see it? And what about the attack on his wife? That’s an absolute disgrace!

  Edward had already decided to place several large orders with August Broklend’s boatyard, and he hated to see his strategic plans threatened all because Jess slept with the wrong woman. The king was not disappointed by his son’s infidelity—he knew himself to be a sinner in the same way—but his Jessamine would never have dreamed of poisoning Imogene so she could become queen.

  If he found a woman to make love to, he should have told her straight away that he would never marry her, no matter what happened to his wife. Then we wouldn’t be in this mess. And who does this woman’s cousin think he is? Sending someone to murder the Countess of Earton!

  Edward rang the bell on his desk. A servant came in.

  “Send the captain of the palace guards to me.”

  When the man appeared, the king issued one simple order: to grab Adelaide Wells’ cousin and beat the truth out of him about the attacks on Lilian Earton, using any means necessary. One way or another, Edward would get to the bottom of the matter. For now, however, he had
a letter to write. He took up a fresh sheet of parchment.

  You may think you’re smart, my boy, but you can’t see the diamond right in front of your face. I’ll teach you a lesson!

  ***

  Torius Avermal glared at his wife. “No and, again, no! I told you that you may only keep those things the countess sent us as gifts. The rest of it…”

  “But Marietta is angry with me!”

  Torius just laughed. “My dear, your Marietta can’t afford something like this. I don’t care how angry she is. Once we sell it, you’ll be able to order a new dress from Marion Alcey.”

  His wife fumed for a while longer, but eventually, she was appeased by the prospect of buying a lovely new dress that would make her friends green with envy.

  “Who bought it from you?”

  “A merchant from Wellster, a nobleman from Ivernea, and a wealthy Khangan.”

  “What do you mean? Three men at once bought the same mirror?”

  “My dear, there is not a single person in this whole town who has enough money to buy one of these new mirrors. Do you realize that they paid me four times its weight in gold? They will take turns using it. What do you think your Marietta could pay me? Or that lazy husband of hers?”

  His wife frowned, but the storm was over. Torius had been more than prepared to endure a fight on the home front. He had earned a great deal of money on the transaction, and he still needed to decide how to send Lilian her share. There would be no talk of shortchanging the countess—the baron wouldn’t risk trying to deceive a woman like Lilian. She, too, was worth her weight in gold.

  ***

  Ten days later, Hans again found himself in a private meeting with the king. Edward was not pleased.

  “Where could that bone-setter have gotten to?”

  “He seems to have jumped in the ocean, Your Majesty.”

  Hans had learned that Medicus Craybey had jumped into a body of water, only it wasn’t the ocean, and he hadn’t exactly jumped. Unsure of Lilian’s involvement, he decided to keep the information to himself. The person who had paid Craybey to ignore Lilian’s symptoms couldn’t risk public disclosure of what the healer knew so, less than a month after his return from Earton, he was invited to treat a private patient at an outlying estate. That was the last he was ever seen. A lake is just as good a place to hide dead bodies, and fish aren’t picky eaters. It’s a dangerous world. Meanwhile, he continued to “help” the king’s guards find the medicus, but without success.

  ***

  Adelaide Wells’ cousin proved easier to locate. In fact, they found him right away and interrogated him using all the most advanced technologies (forceps, hot irons, etc.). Alex was no hero. He started talking before the king’s guards had a chance to get rough with him. Which they could always do later.

  Yes, he had wanted the countess dead. Yes, he had hired a man to do the job. He had even dreamed of success. Why? Because he wanted Jerrison Earton to make Adele an honest woman. That seemed like a lawful enough goal to him. When he had started to voice some ugly opinions about the earl, the guards changed his mind by showing him a hot iron. Still, he said enough to make the king furious with his son. Edward was outraged that Jess would let a woman like Adele harbor hope of becoming his wife. He would have Alex hung, of course, but he didn’t know what to do with the scoundrel’s fair cousin. There was no evidence that she had wanted Lily dead. Alex had burned their letters, wishing to keep their plot secret.

  Edward’s first instinct was to recall her from the delegation to Wellster, but that was risky. Outsiders would sniff out his son’s disgrace.

  Fine. Let her enjoy the trip. But I will write to Jerrison and tell him to keep a close eye on her. If anything else happens, it will be his fault.

  As he picked up his pen, he decided that he still might have Adele killed.

  After this letter to Jerrison, I’ll write to Falion. He will watch the girl like a hawk.

  Once the letters were done and sent, he called for his envoy again and raked him over the coals. “Find that medicus. Shake up his family and friends. Find out who his last client was. I shouldn’t have to teach you how to do your job!”

  Hans swore he would find the man. Then he bowed his way out of the king’s study.

  ***

  Amalia Ivelen studied the box in her lap. It was a gift from Lilian.

  She turned to her husband, “What do you think it is?”

  He snorted. “Something ridiculous, I’m sure. What else could that cow have sent you?”

  Amalia shrugged. “You’re right, of course. But I should still send her something in return.”

  Her husband snorted again but did not object. “As you like, my dear.”

  Amalia looked bored as she opened the box with one hand. Then she gasped. “Peter!” He turned to see what she was holding, and his eyes grew wide. It was a very long and very wide piece of finely made lace. Peter was not particularly interested in women’s finery, but he knew how much something like that would cost. If he had bought it from a merchant, he would have handed over enough gold coins to cover the length of the lace, and even at that price, it would have been a steal.

  “What is it?” he asked stupidly.

  Amalia held it up. It was a long scarf, light and elegant, with a pattern of flying birds in pink and blue. “How lovely it is,” she whispered as it slipped through her fingers. “Peter, where do you suppose she found something so wonderful?”

  “You will have to ask August. I think it will look well on you, my dear.”

  She wrapped the lace around her neck and shoulders. It did flatter her blue eyes and dark hair.

  Peter was intrigued despite himself. “Is there anything else in the box?”

  Amalia nodded. She reached in and lifted out a small mirror in a heavy frame. “A mirror? Oh, Aldonai! Just look at it, Peter!”

  He sat down next to her and looked closely at the mirror. “Are you sure that’s what it is?”

  “I think it’s made of glass!”

  Husband and wife were astounded by the clarity of their reflections and the beauty of the frame.

  Peter handed the mirror back to his wife. “I’ve never heard of anything like it.”

  “Do you think August had it made?”

  “I will ask him,” Peter promised, still frowning.

  Amalia reached into the box and pulled out another item. “This is unbelievable!” It was a brooch made of chunks of red and white amber. “Peter, where could she have gotten this?”

  He leaned over his wife’s shoulder and looked into the box. “There’s a letter, my dear.” Amalia took out the rolled parchment.

  Dear Amalia,

  I am sending you these small things as a gift to mark the birth of your child. I hope they get to you in time. It is my hope that we will see each other at court in the spring. It will be good to talk to you.

  With sincere affection and hope of friendship,

  Lilian Elizabeth Mariella Earton

  This was followed by a seal and Lily’s fancy signature.

  Amalia blinked. “Peter, I don’t understand. Is this from Jess’ stupid wife?” Her husband just shrugged. He couldn’t make sense of it, either. The whole thing was utterly confusing.

  ***

  From a letter to Erk Grismo:

  How is the cow? What is happening in Earton? Has she written to her father? I await your reply.

  Chapter 3

  Good Neighbors

  Time flew imperceptibly. The first snow fell, light and soft, and Lily was happy as a child to see it. Her workshops were making progress, and Mirrie was running around having a wonderful time. Life at the castle was finally on an orderly footing so Lily was surprised one morning when she looked out the dining room window and saw a dozen peasants—men and women—kneeling in the courtyard. They looked like they were ready to put down roots in front of the castle. When they saw her look out, they bent over with their noses almost to the ground.

  “What is going on?” Lil
y asked the nearest guard.

  “Don’t you know, My Lady? The peasants have come to beg for justice.”

  “From me?”

  Yikes!

  Lily was surprised to learn that she had earned quite the reputation with her peasants for being kind and fair, if a little strange. Why do they think that?

  They had their reasons. First, Lily had already improved the standard of living in the villages. She had bought seed for sowing, meaning that the peasants could keep their harvest for food. She had also done away with the tradition of forcing the peasants to work the earl’s land. True, she made them do all sorts of other jobs around the estate, but she fed them well while they worked and even paid them, which was unheard-of in those parts. While the countess may not have given her peasants the livestock she bought at the market, she made sure that every peasant’s cow was bred by one of the quality bulls she had brought back with her. She had also drawn up a list of families with small children and made sure that they were given a pail of goat’s or cow’s milk from her own animals every other day. That was enough to keep the children healthy. The very poorest peasants in Earton were invited to the castle kitchen once every five days, where they were given bread, vegetables, and salted fish. It was not fancy food, but it was enough—when added to what they already had—to see them through the winter.

  The peasants owed much of their gratitude for the charity they received to Ingrid and Leif, who had traveled through the villages months earlier and drawn up lists of who would need what over the winter. But since they did not know this, they worshiped the kind countess, who had also hired several orphan girls and a handful of young women from large families to work as seamstresses at the castle. Their families prayed for the countess’ continuing health morning and night. It was a fine thing to have a child clothed, fed and taught a profession (and it meant one less mouth to feed). As if that weren’t enough, Lily allowed the girls to spend a day at home once every ten days, and the hardest workers were given small gifts of food and other useful items to take to their families. The girls knew how lucky they were, and they worked hard to earn their keep.