The woman’s words dissolved into unintelligible muttering.
Aliya didn’t know anything about a Visa Hadson, but she assumed it was a person. She (or he) has a sheep, which makes her (or him) a person, right? The medicus (Is that a colleague? Why “medicus” instead of “doctor”?) is planning to stuff it and send it to the King’s Museum of Curiosities, which makes no sense because if I’m still in Russia where I belong, there have always been tsars instead of kings.
“I raised you” (she must be a nanny or a wet nurse) “and I raised your father, too.” Aliya was sure that her father had never had a nanny. He had grown up in an orphanage. “You want to go back to the earth as your mother did.” But my mother is alive, and my father is just fine. At least, as far as she remembered after the accident.
In an instant, it all came together. She was in someone else’s body in a completely different world. Apparently, I have a husband who is an earl and a royal jerk. Just what I need. So, my job was to give birth, and he doesn’t care too much whether I live or not. He could find a new wife; earls are always in demand.
There wasn’t much more she could deduce from what she had heard. Aliya made a decision. She could stay in bed as long as she liked, but judging from the sound of crying, there was at least one person in this world who loved her. If she got up, she could make this woman happy and perhaps learn some more about where she was.
Strangely enough, with that decision, her head was completely clear. Aliya opened her eyes and whispered, “Nanny.”
That was enough. The old woman leaped from her stool like someone had poked her with a needle. She smiled with all eight of her teeth.
“Lily! My baby! How do you feel?”
Aliya dropped her eyelashes a bit. “It hurts. Talking hurts. Give me something to drink.”
“Of course, right away, my dear,” the woman began puttering around. “Right this minute, I’ll mix you some water and wine. Or would you rather have milk? We have fresh milk from this morning.”
“Just water,” Aliya said. She felt like she hadn’t eaten in a while, and milk might upset her empty stomach. Buttermilk would be just the thing, so she asked for some.
The woman smoothed the hair back from Aliya’s face. “I’ll start some buttermilk for you this very day! It will be ready tomorrow. For now, take a sip of this.”
Aliya saw the gold cup with rubies flash in front of her eyes. She obediently drank the water with wine. Just a little, to keep it from going to her head. She looked up at the woman who handed it to her.
“Nanny, what happened to me? I can’t remember. My mind is in a fog. Tell me what happened.”
The woman looked away. “You’re too weak still to hear the whole story.”
I don’t see how suspense will make me feel better, Aliya thought. Then she made a sad face. “Please tell me. Please.”
She couldn’t force a tear, but the woman was touched anyway. She looked down and said quietly, “You lost the baby. It was a boy.”
It wasn’t clear what kind of reaction she expected, but Aliya kept her eyes down and asked another question. “I see. What else?”
“You had childbed fever for three days. The medicus came and let your bad blood and gave you a cleansing remedy. Nothing helped.”
Aliya’s eyes flashed in anger. “Don’t let that fool in here to see me again. I’ll rip his legs off.”
The nanny almost choked when she heard that. “But child, how can you say that? Your husband sent him all the way from Lavery when he heard you were unwell.”
“Perhaps he hoped that idiot would do me in,” Aliya grumbled.
“Whatever do you mean?” the nanny burst out. “Medicus Craybey is one of the best physicians in Lavery. Even the king has deigned to use his services.”
“That’s the king’s problem. Why did I lose the baby?”
The nanny shrugged. “Medicus Craybey said that you fell on the stairs.”
“Is that so?”
“We found you at the bottom of the stairs. There was a lot of blood. I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.” The nanny sniffled and hid her face in her apron.
“Not a chance of that,” Aliya whispered to herself. The woman didn’t hear her and continued to sniffle.
Aliya studied the woman. She was short and looked to be about sixty years old, with a tired but pleasant face. She had something like a little cap pinned to her hair. Aliya had only seen things like that in movies, but she was pretty sure that the sleazy fabric covering half the woman’s hair was intended to be a cap.
Her dress was made of what looked like homespun fabric in a grayish-brown color. It was plain, without bows or ruffles. The apron was as dirty as the dress. She couldn’t see what the woman had on her feet because the dress went all the way to the floor. It must function like a prehistoric vacuum cleaner when she walks.
Aliya sighed and spoke again, making her voice as sweet as possible, “Nanny, I need your help. I’m alive, and I want to get my health back. It’s going to take a lot of effort.”
The old woman dropped the apron from her face. Her gray eyes shone with fire, and Aliya realized that the woman loved her just as fiercely as her parents did back in her own world. This was a person who would do anything for her.
Anything at all. Whatever I ask for. A person like that is valuable. She could be useful.
Aliya kept her face neutral. She put on a small smile and said, “I want to try to stand up. I need to wash.”
“How can you stand up, child? The medicus said that you should stay in bed another tennight![1]
“It’s all right,” Aliya gasped as she struggled to sit, ignoring the pain in her lower abdomen. “I can do it. And I really need to take a bath!”
“But washing is so unhealthy! That is what Father Vopler says.”
“He’s welcome to have all the lice he can handle,” Aliya said, her patience wearing thin. When she saw the disappointment on the woman’s face, she changed her tone to something between whining and begging. “Nanny, please help me.”
The nanny (it would be nice to know her name) sighed and shook her head. “But Lily dear, it’s so bad for you.”
“Please!”
“Oh, all right. You lie here while I order some hot water. When I come back, I’ll help you stand up.”
Aliya nodded in agreement.
Thoughtfully, Aliya watched her leave. Then she began studying the room again. Unfortunately, all of the pink décors was still there. Looking closer this time, she began to suspect that the fabric on the walls was pretty expensive. Aliya was sure that the curtains would cost a fortune in her world. She had a friend who moonlighted as a seamstress and was always trying to teach Aliya about armsyces, darts, gussets, inserts, cross-stitch, machine embroidery and all the different kinds of seams. There was too much to remember, but Aliya could tell hand stitching from machine stitching, even at a distance.
She turned to study the furniture. The wardrobes were huge, pink monstrosities. And who thought it was a good idea to make a table out of heavy marble? It was impossible to move, and if it fell over it would put a hole in the floor. The chairs looked like they had been carved from whole pieces of pine.
One of the chairs looked more like a wooden chest that someone had nailed an uncomfortable back to before covering the whole thing in fabric—pink fabric, covered with ugly gold roses.
She hated this kind of stuff.
The pink canopy over her head needed to be shaken out before the dust completely obscured its gold roses.
Aliya plucked up her courage and looked down at her bed. The bedspread was an expensive brocade, but it was filthy—and pink. It was obviously handmade. The sheets were pink silk. They were dirty and stank. Aliya gritted her teeth and pulled the sheets to the side. She had to have a look at herself. She was dirty; she smelled bad; and she was covered in fat like a big, pink whale. Offhand, she figured she weighed 260-270 pounds. She almost cried; it was the worst reincarnation imaginable. She took a deep breath. I
can deal with this. I’ll just watch what I eat and start exercising.
The floorboards outside her door creaked. Aliya pulled the bedspread back over her body Just as three men came in dragging a large metal washtub. When they let it down, it hit the floor with a boom that made Aliya jump. The men went out and returned ten minutes later with buckets of boiling water, which they poured into the washtub. After emptying three buckets of boiling water and three buckets of cold water, they put two more buckets of hot water on the floor by the tub. Aliya watched their preparations in surprise.
The youngest of the three men looked to be eighteen. The oldest of them was way past fifty. The third looked to be about thirty-five or forty, no more. All of them were wearing tunics and strange leggings that had once been white. The tunics were pink. Of course. The two older men had beards, and the youngest was working hard to grow out some hairs on his chin. Their heads were uncovered, but they had sprinkled them with some kind of powder. Their hair was tied back with dirty pink ribbons. On their feet, they wore felt shoes that had apparently been designed to make the wearer look dumpy.
They looked awful. She wondered if all the men in this world dressed like that.
Aliya noticed that none of their clothes had buttons. The tunics closed with ties. Her nanny’s dress was the same way. She wondered if buttons had yet to be invented. If not, she would have to invent them and get the patent…if they had patents in this world. And if they didn’t, she would find a partner and open a button-making workshop.
Stop. My mind is wandering too far. I need to stay in the here and now, at least until I’ve had my bath.
The men left, and her nanny came back to her bedside. “Let’s get up, Lily, dear.”
Aliya tried to stand. She almost groaned in pain. Every muscle and cell of her body was in agony. She gritted her teeth. She was used to standing for hours at a time and knew how to deal with pain.
Her nanny helped her up. It became clear that the woman intended to put her into the bath in her nightgown. Aliya stared at her. “Nanny, I won’t wear this nightgown again. Help me take it off and have someone wash it. Then tell me if I have a clean one I can wear.”
“You do, but Lily…”
“I’m begging you, Nanny! I feel so awful. Do you want me to trip on this nightgown and fall again?”
Her nanny was horrified. She helped Aliya get the disgusting sack over her head.
Aliya almost broke down in tears when she saw the rolls of fat on her body, but she kept it together.
“If only I had a mirror,” she mumbled.
“You ordered one, remember? Let me help you, my pretty butterfly.”
Aliya nodded. Her nanny led her to one of the wardrobes and opened the door. Aliya gasped. The wardrobe held a full-length mirror, which was just a sheet of polished metal, and Aliya could finally see what had happened to her.
She had to admit that she had her good points as well as her bad ones. While her legs, hips, and butt were very large, and her waist was obscured by four rolls of fat, she had small, high breasts and a long neck (even if it was partially hidden behind three chins). Her hands were elegant, and her legs were well proportioned. All she needed to do was lose about a hundred pounds.
Aliya was also pleased to see that she had a heavy braid of hair that fell almost to her knees instead of the rat’s tail she was used to. It must be all the organic food you eat in a place like this. She studied her face and liked it. Large cheeks got in the way, but her eyes were big and green. Her nose wasn’t hooked or turned up; it was just a plain, straight nose. Her ears were fine, too. Best of all, she didn’t see any acne, warts or other spots on her smooth skin. Thank goodness, she didn’t see any of the pits left by smallpox, either. There was just a small birthmark at the corner of her lip. Her teeth were all there, and she could tell that her wisdom teeth hadn’t come in yet.
So, she had a good foundation, and everything else could be fixed. While she was getting in shape, she’d have time to assimilate. Aliya thought of herself as a pragmatist. She wouldn’t try to change everything around her all at once. Why bother, when all I really want is a convenient, easygoing lifestyle?
She would start at the beginning by finding out what was going on in the outside world. Aliya turned to her nanny and flashed her a babyish smile. “Come help me wash and tell me all the things that happened while I was ill.”
The old woman smiled broadly. “Whatever you want, Lily.”
The clever schemer hiding behind Lily’s eyes grinned; she knew exactly what she wanted.
***
“Anna! Sweetheart! Open the door!”
The man kept his voice down and glanced from side to side as if he was afraid of something. He didn’t have to wait long. The door opened, and someone pulled him inside before the lock clicked shut.
“Have you lost your mind?”
The woman who posed the question had passionate, southern features, with dark hair falling in waves over her round shoulders, and a sensual, full figure, with an innocently round face. Her forehead was high, and her hair had been plucked according to the latest fashion so that it formed a triangle above her face. Her thin, arched eyebrows framed large, brown eyes, and she had a small nose and heart-shaped lips above a round chin with a dimple.
“What are you doing here? My father is here today!”
“He won’t be singing you to sleep tonight, and I have my rights as your husband!”
The girl’s face was tight with fear. “Be quiet! You’ll get us both killed!”
“Maybe I’ll save us. You’re already sixteen, and you’ve been my wife for a year. Come here and stop stringing me along!” The man caught the girl by a lock of hair and pulled her to him. Anna cried out quietly, but he had no intention of stopping. He knew she liked a little bit of rough play.
***
A short time later, they continued the conversation where they had left off, only this time they were in bed, and the sheets were crumpled.
“How much longer will we keep hiding?”
“Lons, you know my father is in charge of my fate until I turn eighteen. After that, I’ll be free. There won’t be any dowry, but at least we can announce our wedding. Just wait a little longer.”
“Two years is a little longer? You want me to hide in the corner for two more years? Two more years of catching your every glance like it’s a favor. Two more years…”
A soft hand covered his mouth. “My father controls my life. With just a word from him, I’d be sent to a convent for knowing you like this. He could have our marriage annulled. The Holy Throne already looks askance at him. You don’t want to have your head on the block for seducing the king’s daughter, do you?”
That subdued him.
“And I don’t want to lose you. You’re my husband. I love you. Everything will be fine. Just have patience.”
“I see you’re a teacher as well as an aristocrat.”
“People will say that you took advantage of my youth and inexperience. Would it be so hard for you to stay away from me when His Majesty and his entourage are here? We can be together again after he leaves. I promise!”
Lons sighed. “Anna, love of my life, I never could refuse you. I promise. I’ll wait a tennight. But tonight, you’re mine!”
There was a predatory light in his eyes as he pulled the girl to him. Anna moaned and ran her fingers through his dark hair. Now, she knew for certain that he wouldn’t be leaving until morning.
And she didn’t want him to.
***
His Majesty, the King of Ativerna, Edward VIII, shuffled papers around on his desk. The life of a king was hard labor from dawn to dusk, dirty work for no gratitude or appreciation after he was gone. Nobody thinks about the king when things are going well, but any problems always end up in the king’s lap. He is, after all, the favorite of the gods. His Majesty.
It could take a toll on a king’s personality, and in the end, have the historians say, “King Edward was a tyrant and a despot.”
He wondered how the historians would fare if they had to do his job. Maybe they would behave like Radiant Ones[2], but he doubted it.
King Edward was no tyrant or a despot either. He was almost unnaturally lucky for a king; he was loved and had friends.
***
Thirty-six years before, Edward had married the Princess of Avesterra in an arranged marriage to further his country’s diplomatic aims, but the day of his wedding was also the first time he laid eyes on Aloysius Earton’s daughter, the sister of Jyce Earton. Jessamine was her brother’s younger twin, born half an hour after him. She was charming, beautiful and intelligent and had everything the Princess of Avesterra lacked, but Edward knew he would have fallen in love with her regardless. Love at first sight really happens, he knew. You see a person and realize that you’re looking at your other half. Nothing else matters. That’s true love.
Jessamine had fallen in love with the young prince, too. She was crazy with love, and Edward’s new wife never stood a chance. Her husband was calm and indifferent to her both day and night. His eyes often wandered to the dark-haired figure of Jessie. His gray eyes would find her blue eyes, and their hands would meet when they danced.
“Why are you a prince?” the blue eyes whispered.
“Why aren’t you a princess? I would make you my queen, my goddess,” the gray eyes answered.
The storm broke during a royal hunt. Jessamine’s horse threw her and trotted back to rejoin the others. Several of the men spread out to look for her, but it was Edward who found her. They spent the night together in a woodsman’s cabin. By morning, the prince had an official mistress.
It was an awful scandal. Princess Imogene of Avesterra screamed and cried. She threw dishes. She fainted. The old king shook his head in disappointment. Members of his court gossiped with the outraged members of the clergy.
Edward never hid his relationship with Jessie. The old earl and the old king disapproved but said nothing in public. The lovers did, however, have the support of Jessamine’s brother.
Jyce, Viscount of Earton, adored his twin sister. If she needed the prince in order to be happy, then he figured she should have the prince. Edward knew that, in Jyce, he had gained a true friend. After all, they both loved Jessie.
First lessons (Medieval Tale Book 1) Page 2
