The Price of Happiness: A Strong Woman in the Middle Ages (A Medieval Tale Book 5)

by Lina J. Potter

  Edward entrusted the countess with his life. She acted with confidence, like a true professional.

  She remembered that the patient was always more scared than her. Lily confidently carried out palpation, percussion, and repeatedly sighed with relief. She kept asking questions.

  “Don’t speak. Blink once for a yes. Otherwise, keep your eyes open. It will hurt to speak.”

  Lily was right.

  “It hurts here and here. The pain changes when you inhale or move or put pressure. The pain isn’t static.”

  Edward was blinking and feeling more at peace.

  I hope it’s not death? I cannot afford to die now!

  Lily also regained her self-assuredness. She would create a tonometer when she had time, a primitive one. A Riva-Rocci, for example, she could do that. She knew the history of medicine well and took an interest in it.

  The king’s symptoms reminded her of intercostal neuralgia, a disease that was curable. It wasn’t the best thing to have, but it didn’t pose any direct threat. It was easy to confuse with a heart attack. To endure so much pain wasn’t a pleasant experience.

  The more she questioned the king, the more she was sure about her diagnosis.

  On top of everything, does he have a cold? Most probably. His back is always painful, there are drafts in the palace and no hot baths to warm up the bones. It is as clear as day. As for the treatment, I’ve got everything necessary—my healing ointments and anesthetics.

  So the king was examined, given medicine diluted in mulled wine and wrapped up in rags. Lily became his nurse and remained by his bedside. She would never trust this patient to anyone.

  Having heard about the prospect of swift recovery, Edward sighed in relief only to taste a bitter medicine. He had to remain in bed for the first few days. Like it or not, humans hadn’t yet learned to perform Aldonaian miracles.

  The king did not object. He called for his secretary and ordered him to cancel all receptions in the following five days and all important documents to be delivered to his bedroom. The old servant immediately passed the order to the valet. He looked at Lily with a certain reverence, for he realized that she wasn’t just another woman with a title but a certified doctor who knew her trade.

  The king resolved to receive court visitors in his bedroom in small groups.

  Let them see that the illness is a slight whim of the king and that his wrath is still terrible! Lily expressed no objection but demanded that the king take an anesthetic and preferably remain under her watchful eye. The king was happy with this arrangement. Alicia watched Lily with recurring feelings of doubt and terror. A housewife wouldn’t know how to be so professional and practical, even if she learned from the famous medicus! It doesn’t add up, thought the viperess. There is something incomprehensible about Lilian, something strange and rational. At least there is no enmity in her behavior, thank Aldonai.

  Alicia's hopes exceeded her fears. If Edward died now, it would have been a disaster with Richard still on his way and in the face of the conspiracy disclosed. No, the king has to be on the throne. His death would cause chaos and rebellion. I pray for Aldonai’s mercy.

  Lily had similar thoughts. She asked Alicia for a scroll from the palace library and sat at the king’s bedside, reading.

  Tahir arrived shortly and brought her joy. Lily received a couple of ointments and anesthetics and nodded.

  “This will do.”

  “Your Majesty.” The valet tapped on the door.

  Edward nodded.

  “Your Majesty, the medicus has arrived.”

  Edward looked at Lily.

  “If you want, you can listen to what they have to say.” Lily smiled. “Only do not agree to bloodletting and enemas, for in your condition it will do you more harm than good. Besides, has it ever been effective?”

  Edward shrugged and nodded to the valet, asking him to let the medicus in. When he entered, he looked more like a parrot than a doctor. It was a unique sight. He wore a green tunic embroidered with a great number of gems, his trousers were light blue with ribbons, and he had a huge pink bow around his neck. The most amusing addition to the costume was a yellow bow nestled on his flour-powdered hair.

  “Your Majesty, as soon as I found out about your illness, I hurried to drop at your feet! I promise you, you will be bouncing around in no time!”

  Lily conveniently hid behind the bed. Dusty! She smirked. At least ask what the patient’s complaint is, smart Alec!

  Smart Alec grabbed the king’s hand and began studying his nails. He turned the hand over and studied the palm in the same concentrated manner. He asked the king to show him his tongue, to spit in his palm. The king stoically endured while Lily kept silent.

  After studying the spit, the man compassionately said,

  “The color of saliva is uneven; it has got a blueish tint. This marks a dysfunction of the cerebrum gland. I suppose we couldn’t avoid bloodletting.”

  Uneven blueish saliva! Idiot! I gave the king a drink from wild blueberries to ensure that his digestive functions are all right, given he is suffering from a lot of pain already. Let him at least go to the toilet effortlessly. It would be good to put him on a proper diet. His royal habits are harmful to his health. Improper nutrition is a cause of all diseases! Constipation, diarrhea, digestion problems…the rest follows.

  “I don’t need any bloodletting.” Edward was confident.

  “Your Majesty! What about the gland! It is evidently inflamed! In that case, let me give you an enema, it does wonders!”

  The saddest part is that it does help some in cases where one is pissed or can’t shit, pardon my language. To add nausea and vomiting to neuralgia is to create the worst suffering.

  “Shove it up your—”

  Lily nearly whistled. The king’s popular lexicon turned out to be quite rich.

  “Shoo! Get out of my chamber—and out of court. You are fired!”

  “Your Majesty, but you have an inflammation!”

  Lily stepped out of hiding like a ghost. She couldn’t stand his nonsense and was sorry for the king. He was struggling to keep his countenance, and it wasn’t worth arguing with that fool of a doctor.

  “It is a sin to go against the will of the king, you cur!”

  The medicus jerked with surprise and yelled something about dumb women and their witchcraft.

  Lily wasn’t going to get her hands dirty. She called for the valet, who made an immediate appearance.

  “His Majesty ordered this idiot out of his chamber,” informed the countess in a poisonous voice.

  The servant glanced at the king, caught his approving glance, and rang the bell furiously.

  A pair of guards appeared out of nowhere. They grabbed the medicus by his shoulders and pushed him out.

  Lily sat closer to the king.

  “Everything will be fine, Your Majesty. I promise you that you will recover, only don’t agree to bloodletting.”

  Edward lowered his eyelids once again.

  “Now you should sleep. I promise to wake you up in the evening, three hours before the setting of the sun.” Edward nodded.

  Strong hands grabbed his shoulders and put him in the least painful position. They raised him above the bed and adjusted the pillow to make it more comfortable.

  Edward closed his eyes.

  “Are you still here?”

  “I promise to remain by your bedside until you wake up.” Lily looked at the chair. Comfy. It will do. “Time to sleep, Your Majesty. Sleep tight.”

  Hmm! She overestimates the need, but some rest will help me get well.

  Edward closed his eyelids and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

  "Let His Majesty get enough sleep," Lily turned to Alicia. And she flinched. She looks so—

  “Who are you?

  Lily understood everything but did not intend to surrender.

  “Lilian Earton. Brocklend in girlhood.”

  “I don’t believe you. You're different, you're kind of odd—”
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  “We'll talk about this later. I’m the same Lily. I can describe what you told me when I married Jerisson, I can remember your every dress, and my father would have never accepted an impostor!”

  “But you—”

  “I am Lilian. People change. Who wouldn’t? I was almost sent to the Aldonaian kingdom.”

  Alicia shook her head but did not object. She won’t escape my questions but not in front of people. She will tell me in person.

  Edward woke a couple of times, and Lily gave him herbal tea with honey that plunged him back into his heavy sleep. Hans arrived in the evening with a report. Lily, who would sleep right in the royal chamber, went to meet him herself.

  “It’s good to see you, Hans.”

  Hans kissed her hand.

  “How is His Majesty doing, My Lady?”

  “With the mercy of Aldonai, he will be better very soon.”

  Lily didn’t understand why she was allowed to see the king so easily. The answer was quite simple: no one dared to contradict the king, especially in times of chaos, when the guards looked particularly unfriendly. Kings in sickness are no worse at beheading than healthy ones. The valet let a couple of people peep into the slit. The king was asleep, the countess sat reading a book, sometimes adjusting his blanket or pillow. Rumor had it around the palace that the king had a cold but would recover quickly, so the courtiers refrained from disturbing him.

  Only Baroness Ormt, who tried to break into the royal chamber, was sent off by the valet. He paid no attention to her yelling, as she threatened to “behead” and “imprison” the valet for being such an “impudent creature.” The king had a whole bunch of flamboyant characters like her. She was regarded as a stupid hen, and nobody cared about her. The baroness strolled before the guards, and her theatrical extravagancy disappeared. The princesses could have helped her, but they weren’t going to. Richard wasn’t there. As for the rest, they told her to not bother the king, or else she would go to Stonebug.

  The Aldon was not at court, although his appearance was a matter of time. As for the courtiers, nobody wanted to risk it. Hans waited for the valet’s permission and followed him to the royal chamber. Edward was still lying in his bed, but with his eyes open. Lily took charge of him. She helped him to sit up and fixed the pillow.

  “Is that better?”

  “Yes. Where have you learned this from, Countess?”

  “I promise to tell you everything, Your Majesty. In the meantime, you have Leir Tremain waiting to bring you some news.”

  “Are you making use of my illness?”

  “I wouldn’t dare, Your Majesty!” Lily looked at the king with a cunning smile. “Once you’re seriously angry with me, only then will I conclude of your full recovery!”

  Edward replied with a weak smile.

  “You speak like a real medicus, Countess.”

  Lily silently dropped into a curtsey.

  “Leave us alone, Countess.”

  “If you happen to feel worse, let me know immediately, Your Majesty.” Lily looked stern and uncompromising. “Promise me.”

  “Have you forgotten that I am your king?”

  “Right now you are my patient.”

  “You forget your place, My Lady.”

  “The liveliness in your voice tells me you are feeling better. I obey you.”

  Lily took her leave and disappeared. Edward looked at Hans.

  “Report back, Leir.”

  “Your Majesty, I questioned all three. It was a conspiracy, after all.”

  “Avesterra?”

  Hans spoke so silently that not even a fly could hear. It was only for the ears of the king. He confirmed the king’s every suspicion. After the death of Imogene of Avesterra, Leonard had put a bet on Edmund and made him a certain offer. It got Edmund interested. He was the crown prince. He didn’t hate his father but rather thought him confused. He despised and hated the Eartons, although not all of them. He was never going to commit parricide. The options he considered were imprisonment or abdication.

  Edward smiled crookedly. How long do imprisoned kings live? They either fall on a spear or choke on a pillow. Edmund was the first one to realize it. He didn’t mind destroying Jessamine. It was he who ordered her two attempted murders and the final successful one.

  “The third one?”

  “It was not a disease. It was poison.”

  “Who did it?”

  “The medicus you kicked out.”

  “Find him and execute him without making a fuss.”

  Hans didn’t object. He would find him and finish him off.

  "As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  The year after Edmund’s death, Amalia existed in a kind of stupor, and the Ivelens took it to their advantage. The situation was like a pebble in the shoe of the eldest Ivelen. Loran realized perfectly well that as soon as everything came out, heads would roll, but there was nothing he could do.

  Peter was so in love with Amalia that even if Aldonai himself had forbidden him, he would still have done anything to be near her. After Edmund’s death, he tried to somehow entertain her, support and enliven her spirits, and his efforts were successful. Around two years ago, they secretly got married—this time, legally—which made the youngest twins his legitimate heirs.

  “I will soon sign the order to divide the Ivelen lands between them, let them have it.”

  “Your will is law, Your Majesty.”

  For a year after Edmund’s death, everything was relatively peaceful. Jyces’ trick even did a service to the Crown. The Avesterras thought that Edmund’s conspiracy had been disclosed and went into hiding; they didn’t want to be pulled out by their mousy tails. Time went by, and people started to forget about the incident. Then the emissaries of Avesterra paid another visit to Loran. He was presented with the same offer, only this time it was Jess Jr. instead of Edmund.

  Unlike the conscientious Edmund who hadn’t wanted to step over the corpse of his father, Loran Ivelen didn’t suffer from any pangs of conscience. Besides, his personal motives played a big part.

  As it often happens, fear before the Crown transformed into aggression. The man was tired of being scared, so he attacked.

  Or maybe the fact that Amalia was coming out of the crisis played a significant role. She was eager to avenge her first husband. There were no psychologists after all, and the only people who could explain to the woman that she was the cause of her own suffering were the pastors, whom the Ivelens forbade to come near. They feared that the foolish woman would go mad.

  “I wouldn't spare her,” admitted Edward.

  The Ivelens suspected danger and realized that the secret was doomed to be revealed. Provided that the third girl was the spitting image of Queen Imogene, anyone who saw her face would see the truth. The Ivelens accepted Avesterra’s proposal, and Loran began to prepare. Amalia was lured into the conspiracy for another reason. In her eyes, her son was entitled to his father’s place on the throne.

  “She still knew—”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Why did they make attempts on Jerisson and Lilian?”

  There was a simple answer. If Amalia was Edward’s daughter, then Jerisson was his eldest son. It didn’t matter that he was a bastard. He loved his uncle, although he had no idea that he was really his father. Now, he was a talented commander. Loran didn’t need turmoil in the kingdom. There were enough people who were loyal to the Crown, and they had their own troops, not to mention other candidates to the throne who considered themselves more entitled to wear the crown. The hardest task wasn’t seizing power but retaining it.

  Loran Ivelen took care of everything. He found supporters, bribed, built intrigues…

  The main issue was the lack of money. Although Leonard was a king, he was terribly greedy. There are three things needed to organize a revolt: money, money, and again money. Therefore, they also decided to get rid of Lily and Miranda first and then Jerisson in order to fix the family affairs. If Jerisson died first, Lily would
take Miranda to her father, and it would be difficult and time-consuming to get her out, not to mention the tumult it would cause which was so feared by the Ivelens. Conversely, if Lily and Miranda died first and Jerisson second, his business and money would go to his only beloved sister, as was stated in his will.

  As soon as the Ivelens received the fake letter about Lilian and Miranda dying, the plotters made an attempt on the life of Jerisson. Indeed, the countess deceived her enemies well, and they were shocked to see her in the capital.

  Edward became progressively gloomier.

  Loran Ivelen worked like a hamster in summer and dragged anyone and everyone into his hole. At that point, he had the support of around thirty people. They were neither the noblest nor the poorest. As for honor, the lawful right to the throne belonged to Jess Jr. Nobody was going to mention the incest and the familial ties between Amalia and Edmund. There was never going to be such an announcement. The main question was what to do with the troubled nobility. As soon as the Ivelens were destroyed—

  “Have you not finished them yet?”

  “Only Loran and Peter.”

  “Why not everyone?”

  The look in Edward’s eyes frightened Hans. Before him was the king, albeit sick and angry; he was a ruler who put the interests of his kingdom before his own. The Ivelens were a threat to his state, and Edward was going to get rid of that threat. Is it strange that he is dealing with his daughter and his grandchildren? No, it is frightening to have a kind and amicable person having to destroy his loved ones. There is no other way. Otherwise a mad rebellion, civil war, where life and death have little worth. It is easy to preach about good and evil, but what about the lesser of the evils? The king had to buy out the lives of many thousands with his own pain. How easy it was to judge when one didn’t have any responsibility. It was an odd feeling for the king to realize that his decision would be backed by the thousands of lives of his people.

  His gray eyes sparked with comprehension.

  “Kill them.”

  Yet Hans still hesitated.

  “Maybe spare the children?”

  “I spared the twins. As for the rest—”

  “Exile to another country, monastery, imprisonment—”