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

by Lina J. Potter

  “Aldonai be merciful!”

  The service progressed as usual. Everything was as peaceful as ever—all but the princess who was on pins and needles.

  Her wait was finally over. At the very end of the service, a large man with a black beard dressed like a wealthy merchant passed in suspiciously close proximity to the princess. She recognized her husband.

  Anna capriciously chased away her maids.

  “I wish to speak to the priest. Wait outside!”

  They had no reason to contradict her wishes. The church was a safe place. Not much could happen there. And so, the maids were deceived. It wasn’t difficult for Lons to leave the prayer book on the bench, where Anna picked it up and took it inside one of the confession rooms. She left it in exactly the same spot where she found it. The forgetful merchant returned for his prayer book after the service and found a short note inside.

  Tomorrow evening, prepare everything for our escape from the eastern gates of the palace.

  Lons rushed to the countess. Unlike her husband, he knew where to find her.

  Lily received the news with obvious displeasure.

  “So, you aren’t going to Earton?”

  Lons shook his head emphatically.

  “No, My Lady.”

  “Who will replace you?”

  “My friend will,” smiled Lons. Lily frowned looking at the teacher of natural sciences.

  “Leon Alhert?”

  “Yes, madam.” The teacher bowed.

  “Why do you want to be my secretary?”

  “Because My Lady knows more about the natural sciences than I do. Children ask me questions that I cannot answer. I feel a fool. It’s time for me to learn.”

  “And?”

  Children did ask her questions, and she answered them. They looked extremely interested.

  “You will drive me away soon. I don’t want to leave. I like my trade, and you pay well for it. Perhaps I will be of use. Even though I am a leir and my father is an ordinary merchant, I am well-educated and have good handwriting. I want to be your loyal servant.”

  Lily squinted.

  “What if someone offers you money in return for information about me?”

  Leon ran his fingers through his golden hair and showed a mischievous smile.

  “I will obviously take it and tell everything to Sir Tremain, My Lady.”

  Lily grinned.

  “Fine. Let’s try you. I will give you a thirty-day trial. If you manage to get familiar with everything, I will leave you. If not, you will go back to teaching.”

  “As you wish, My Lady.”

  “He has good handwriting,” Lons stood up for him. “He is my old friend. Besides, I am not meeting my death either. I could help him to get the hang of his new role. Until then, Taris Brok could help you. August's people would be happy to give you a hand.”

  Lily nodded slowly.

  “Fine, Lons. When do you meet? And how did you agree to run away? Horses, carriage…”

  “I will buy a few horses today. I was never short of money when working for you. As for the rest, could Erik—”

  “He could. Talk to him. I can ask him myself if you want.”

  “Please, ask him.”

  “Fine. I will. You still have the horses to sort out. You also need to take care of Anna. You know what you’re doing. Maybe you can come back in a couple of years when everything calms down.”

  Lons shrugged. It was unlikely.

  “May I take my leave?”

  “Stay where you are!” ordered Lily. She found her purse with coins. She didn’t have much. She paid bills, salaries, and other expenses. The money dispersed in all directions with great speed. She, the owner of the trademark “Mariella,” which sold its products across every state, counted copper coins. She gave him everything she had.

  “Take it. There can never be enough money.”

  She could refuse a new dress. The old one would do at court.

  Lons took his leave. Lily cast a thoughtful look at Leon.

  “So, Leon. First, sort the mail. Afterward, come to my study. I have something to write up.”

  Leon bowed and hurried to work. Lily touched one of the drawers and took out the scroll with Lons’ writing. Everything was brief and clear. It had mention of the names, described the wedding with Anna, his lawful rights, how they sold him to the ship instead of killing him and so on. Pastor Vopler was a witness, although he didn’t read it himself. When Lons finished writing, he dried the ink with sand, folded it and sealed it with his own stamp. Pastor Vopler did the same.

  Lily did not believe in Anna’s desire to run away with Lons. But what if it is true? If so, she wished them happiness. The main thing was to make sure that none of her people got into serious trouble. If everything went smoothly, Lons would take Anna, drive to the shore, and depart on the ship. If not, Lily would place his confession on Edward’s desk.

  Lily wasn’t going to admit that she knew of the plot. She would pretend that she had nothing to do with it. That did not stop her from causing a row. She wouldn't let some ladybug get away with the murder of one of her people. The truth was on her side. Every virginity check would show that the princess was lying. Let her prove that she wasn’t a camel.

  Lily rang the bell.

  “Leon, be my friend, call Erik in as soon as he shows up.”

  “He is already here. He is training. Should I ask him in?”

  “Do!”

  She felt a duty to provide her Romeo with transportation to August’s shipyards. The couple would change ship there and depart to Earton or the Khanganat. Erik agreed to take Lons with another passenger and the horses at night and take them to August’s shipyards. Lily sent him to Lons to arrange everything, and could finally relax a little.

  There were two scenarios.

  Either Lons and his wife will depart tonight and head to the four winds. Or…

  Lily didn’t want to think of the second option. A miracle had saved Avels once. Would a miracle save him again? Lily doubted it. She didn’t know what to do.

  Should I take precautions and let the actions take their course? Yes.

  Lily took out a piece of paper and drew a couple of lines. She contemplated.

  There is no need to brood over the first option, where everyone lives happily ever after. But what if Anna tells everything to the agents of Wellster? The fact that Count Lort failed once doesn't mean that he will fail again. Lons might die tonight. The first option—they capture and interrogate him. However, times are dangerous. They won’t do it so openly. The second option—they kill him. It’s simple. No person, no problem. The third option—Lons will be magically saved. In that case, I will need to either immediately drive him to Edward, or hide him. They will be looking for him and will find him sooner or later.

  Lily was ready to deal with the consequences. She was ready for anything. The third option was the saddest. Certain people, especially religious, would have judged Lily for her cool pragmatism. She expected a person to die and did nothing about it. Although any death brought her much grief, Lily perceived it as a part of life. Lons was a grown man and could take responsibility for himself. No one asked him to trust Anna. No matter what Lily thought, Lons would still try to get his way. She was not his mother to keep him by the tail.

  If Lily didn't intervene, she would have been the first one to lose her head.

  Let destiny take its course. She had to show up at the palace. The diplomatic mission from Ivernea was about to arrive.

  I cannot be bothered, but I have no say in the matter.

  Lily’s mood was spoiled, and she decided to visit Taral in order to cool her mind. She took Lidarh and set off. Pity they gave up horses as transport back in my own world! How smart and beautiful they are! Where is Aliya Skorolenok? She’s lost forever. I am Lilian Earton now. There is only one trouble. I fell out of my century but haven’t gotten used to the new one. I need at least three or four more years to make it feel like home. Will they let me live t
hat long?

  ***

  Lydia of Ivernea looked at Laveri. A beautiful city. It smells of the sea.

  “How are you, sister?”

  It was her elder brother. The princess was accompanied by Prince Adrian and Prince Miguel. Bernard had decided not to go.

  “I am fine. Only a little tired. Where are we going now?”

  “To the king. We will go to the embassy after, to rest.”

  Lydia was sad. They spent the night near the capital, sent the messenger, and had time to get ready in the morning. Such was the etiquette.

  Nevertheless, she didn’t want to do anything. She couldn't bear the pains of her unfortunate first love and shameful blackmail. Lydia was smart. She understood that she wasn’t beautiful. She knew that the prince would always choose Anna over her. She realized that her dowry wasn’t much.

  There were a lot of reasons for her sadness. She felt terrible. Yet, even though it was hard, she had to keep a good face during a bad game.

  An honorary escort took them to the king. Lydia furtively glanced around. It was beautiful. It smelled of the sea, and she could hear the scream of seagulls—a pleasant place. The procession went through the city. Lydia hid in the carriage and didn’t look out of it. It had recently rained, and the streets were dirty. The Royal Palace was a beautiful place. It had white stone and tall walls and was decorated with flags.

  Edward received them cordially. He sent the honorary escort, the guardsmen with naked sabers, and the trumpeters. The brothers were happy. Lydia was sad. She wasn’t loved by anyone. No one cared about her. She was in a state of melancholia. Miguel helped his sister get out of the carriage, and they followed Adrian, who carried the credentials.

  Lydia looked around. Small groups of men and ladies ambled around the palace. Not everyone fit into the Royal Hall, but everyone was interested in watching. People peered inside from the corridors. Lydia wasn’t a fool. She noticed pity in the eyes of the women and disgusting indifference in the eyes of the men. No one liked her there. She was a blank space.

  They reached the Royal Hall. A herald announced the titles. Lydia listened nonchalantly. It was the looks that really got to her. No matter how hard she tried to turn a blind eye, no matter how much she told herself that she was stronger and more intelligent, no matter how proud she was, those looks still got to the bottom of her soul. She was hurt. It was like sand and granite. One could ignore a grain of sand, but suddenly there were tens, hundreds, thousands of them, and it became a solid mass of granite. Lydia lifted her forehead, but it didn’t help. She had dull hair, an unfashionable hairstyle, an old dress, coarse shoes, and cold manners. Aldonai, help! Make it all end!

  Lydia endured the reception until the end. She returned Edward’s compassionate smile and spotted the malicious grins of the courtiers when Richard kissed her hand. Their thoughts resounded through her head.

  You can be thrice a princess, but he will still sleep with others. You are a tart. A smart tart! What could be worse?

  Unfortunately for Lydia, a silly woman wouldn’t realize the true horror of her position. She did her best to show no emotion. She managed to hide her feelings in the palace. Yet, she lost it as soon as she got to the embassy. She threw herself onto the bed, sent all her servants to Maldonaya, and cried her eyes out.

  It is shameful, humiliating, disgusting! I could see them gloating when Richard chose Anna over me! Nobody will say it to my face, but their eyes still scream, “even the title of a princess didn’t help this scarecrow!” They will repeat it behind my back many times. No matter how much I say that I don’t like Richard, nobody will believe me, even if it’s thrice the truth! Aldonai, be merciful, how sick I am.

  ***

  Lilian Earton was also sick, though for a different reason. She didn’t meet the diplomatic mission itself, but Jerisson Earton caught her in the corridor, gallantly bowed, and kissed her hand.

  “You look wonderful today, dear Countess.”

  Lilian was wearing a simple ash-rose dress, her hair was decorated with strands of pearls, and she had pearls about her neck and wrists. She looked splendid.

  “Jerisson,” she smiled to her husband, having remembered her promise to fix the relationship.

  “Lilian, you have an incredible smile!” The way he said it—although not entirely sincere—was quiet and heartfelt. He looked her right in the eyes and held her hand. Right at that moment, Alexander Falion appeared around the corner. Jerisson lifted his head and looked at him with a predator's eye. He was like a street cat trying to drive away a rival. As for Falion himself, he didn’t say a word. He only bowed and walked past. Lily saw his eyes. He had almost impercetibly pulled himself together, but a trace of feeling remained. Lily mechanically smiled at her husband, chattered, let him walk her home, and even let him be present when she put Miranda to bed. There was a dark leftover pain at the bottom of her soul. What should I do now? Write a letter, like they would do in a bad play? Express her repentance and declare her love? Run after Alex and ensure him that it was nothing; that it was not what he thought? The worst thing is that it wasn’t a mistake.

  How sickening.

  ***

  Lons Avels was happy. He was going to get the woman he loved. Anna would finally reunite with him. She was his wife, his little girl, his lover. She didn’t abandon, betray, or fall out of love with him. They were separated by the cruelty of life, but they would soon reunite. How wonderful! They would live together, have children, grow old, and in some fifteen years, they would remember the present with a smile.

  Anna, Anneli, my love! I miss you so much!

  He was immensely grateful to Lilian Earton. If it weren’t for her, nothing would have been possible. But now, everything was fine. They would be happy. If they had a daughter, he would name her Lilian, in honor of their savior.

  The embassy was still a mile away. He would wait there for Anna and head back. Two of Leis’ people rode next to Lons. One of them was from Earton, and Lons forgot his name. They finally reached the Embassy of Wellster and the old back gates, dirty, used by the guards.

  “I will go alone.” Lons dismounted the horse and threw the reins to one of the men. The man shrugged.

  “Go. We will wait for you here.”

  Lons slowly walked to the gates. It was dirty, and it reeked. There were a couple of barrels there with human excrement. He waited for Anna.

  The last thing he heard was the whistle of the arrow. He even managed to feel the pain when it broke through his chest. Lons let out a cry, dropped onto his knees, staring in amazement at the plumage sticking out of his chest. The last thing he saw was Anna’s face. She was waiting for him with a smile on her face. The pain quickly retreated, and Lons had suddenly found himself running down the field of chamomiles, just like he used to do in his childhood. Leis’ people also turned into unwitting victims. The agents of Altres Lort had been waiting to ambush him from the very beginning. They had expected that Lons wouldn’t come alone.

  Lons didn’t know that three arrows had whistled almost simultaneously and that six people descended from the trees. Lort’s people were very well prepared. They delicately touched the veins on the victim’s necks and quickly nodded to each other. The targets were all dead. The first thing they did was search the bodies and put everything they found into one pile. Second, they broke off the ends of the arrows without pulling them out of the bodies. Third, they crammed the bodies inside the barrels with human excreta (also known as honey wagons) that stood on the cart outside the gate and smelled terribly. Even though the task wasn't pleasant, one couldn't think of a better way to remove corpses.

  The cart would go along the road and turn toward the shore. Usually, there was nothing for the honey dippers to do by the sea, but that time it was different. Now their task was to fill the honey wagons with rocks and dispose of them. The waves were high and smashed against the rocks. The fishermen never went to that spot, but the fish would soon.

  Afterward, the killers looked through
the confiscated stuff. There wasn’t anything unusual. Lons had significantly more money than the other men—a whole purse. It didn’t have any crest on it. Lily had recently gotten it from the local market. It would have been good to question Lons before killing him, but it was impossible to do in Ativerna. It wasn’t Wellster. The embassy had local servants. Every second man was a spy. It was extremely risky.

  The count’s agents worked quickly and skillfully, but still didn’t find anything. Back in those times, people had no ID cards or passports. Lily had once wanted to give her people personal badges but had changed her mind, and rightly so.

  Erik waited for the passengers in vain. He waited all night, and at dawn went to report back to Lilian.

  ***

  Anna of Wellster paced around the room.

  Today. Is this really happening? Aldonai help me!

  She would become a widow that day if she was lucky. It sounded terrible. It was horrible to wish for another person’s death. She had no other option. Lons stood between her and freedom, wealth, and becoming the queen—all because of her careless behavior. Anna wrinkled her nose at the memories of the past.

  She was a small and silly girl, only beginning to realize her power and authority over men. Her breasts became full, her figure took a round shape, her voice became deeper. It had been three years since Lons joined their household. She remembered one day especially well. He talked about something stupid like geography; he stood at the blackboard when a wild ray of sunshine shone through the hole in the parchment used as a window-blind. It illuminated his face, and Lons smiled. He looked so handsome that Anna even got scared. That day she decided to get him. It was partly done to annoy her sister, who also found him good-looking.

  They were so sneaky, so skilled in hiding their affair! It seemed so small and ridiculous now. She had won. Lons Avels became her legitimate prey. Despite everything, she felt fine with him. She was truly happy. She felt joy. However, he could offer her nothing but his name. To become a leira for a princess meant almost nothing. Only a simple peasant woman was worse than that.