A Fortunate Woman (Fortune's Favor Book 2)

by Jennifer Lyndon

  “A month is a long time to have guests,” I observed. “We’re alone now, though.”

  On that cue, Astrid started crying. Lia turned her attention to Astrid, speaking sweetly to the infant, and promising her anything in the world she wanted, if she would only stop crying. We headed for the sofa in our hearth room, and Lia opened her tunic to feed Astrid.

  I would have relished enticing Lia into bed with me, but almost as much, I enjoyed watching the interaction between Astrid and her. I was forgotten, only a bystander, as Astrid’s enormous pale grey eyes focused on Lia, the center of her infant world. Lia’s face was flushed with happiness as Astrid gripped her finger and ate greedily. I picked up what appeared to be quite an ancient book, and decided M’Tek must have left it behind. It was on the processing of flowering, vine-derived, intoxicants, and carried a faint smell of spoiled goat’s milk and rotten meat. I knew from the horrid smell that the book was from the odorous, sealed off section of the library at Saranedam, a part of Lore’s most ancient collection. The language was strange, almost a combination of Old Noge and Fae, and took me a moment to decipher.

  As I began studying it, something clicked in my head. It wasn’t a variety of berries I needed to experiment with, but some other array of intoxicants. It was difficult for me to become truly absorbed in producing berrywine, because it had no effect on me. It was almost the same as drinking flavored water. Its effect was weak even on those who were not Lemu. I needed to alter it, to improve upon it. I needed to make it more potent. As I skimmed through the book I excluded several of the vines outright because of our extreme climate, but then my gaze settled on the section about the woodrose. The flowers were beautiful, and the vine easy to grow. The soil north of Lauderdam was perfectly suited to cultivating them. I quickly pored over the information while Lia fed Astrid.

  When Astrid fell to sleep, Lia stood and carried her to the nursery adjoining our hearth room. She then returned to me, snapped the book from my hands without a word, marked my place by folding one of the delicate pages at its corner, and placed it on the side table.

  “Come, Pet,” she said. “You can read about flowers later. Right now I want you in our bed.”

  She held her hand out to me, and I let her guide me to my feet, happy to be led by her. After the loveliest of naps, Lia stirred, waking me. She lay beside me, her head tucked against mine. My arms tightened around her, drawing her close.

  “I feel almost myself again,” I said through a yawn. “Having guests is exhausting.”

  “Lore really seemed to make an effort,” Lia observed.

  “Yes. She improved throughout the visit,” I agreed.

  “Ania told me she made you go for a walk with her last night, as she used to do years ago,” Lia said. “What did she want?”

  “Forgiveness, I believe, and to be a part of our lives,” I said. “She wants to do anything in her power to make life simpler for you,” I added, not exactly lying, but unwilling to tell Lia, especially at that moment, that her mother asked me to allow her to kill Lia’s attacker.

  “Did you tell her our lives are already simple?” Lia asked, grinning at me. “And that I couldn’t be happier,” she said, inching forward to capture my lips.

  “I might have said something to that effect,” I replied. “She’s worried you won’t find the society you’re accustomed to here in the outreaches of the Baneland territory.”

  “Your society is all I crave, and all I need,” she said, nuzzling my ear before trailing her lips across my cheek.

  “Lore invited us to Lareem Palace for the spring,” I replied. “She’s trying to make amends.”

  “I adore your mouth,” Lia whispered against my lips, ignoring what I’d said and clearly intent on distracting me. “Your lips and tongue, and even your teeth, arouse this irresistible pressure deep within me,” she said, brushing her lips against mine. “And then when I think I might die from wanting you, you release that pressure to surge through my body, in the most extreme pleasure.” She laughed and nibbled at my bottom lip, relishing her palpable power over me.

  I ran my hands through the sides of her hair, and kissed her gently, as her fingers pressed between my legs, evoking a soft moan from me. I caught her hand and she sighed, relaxing her body against mine. Her temple pressed to my cheek.

  “I’ll do anything you want,” I said. “You only need to tell me what it is. I’m not trying to control you.”

  “I can’t go back there,” she admitted. “The thought terrifies me.”

  “Then we won’t,” I assured her.

  “Am I a coward?” she asked.

  “You’re the bravest person I know, Lia,” I replied honestly.

  “No. Of course I’m not, Pet,” she said, laughing ruefully. “Mata is brave. The Vilkerlings say she killed ten thousand of them in one battle,” Lia offered, trying to make her point.

  “My cousin is certainly lethal,” I agreed readily. “But M’Tek has always said you should divide the Vilkerling’s estimates of her kill count by one hundred, for accuracy.”

  “Lore took on a powerful witch to bring Mata back home to us,” Lia added.

  “That was impressive, I agree,” I said. “Both of your examples are more about cunning and combat skill than actual bravery.”

  “I’m not like them,” Lia observed. “I never have been.”

  “Of course you’re not,” I said. “Your courage is more inner strength than outward bravado. You were braver than I was when we were falling in love. If you’ll remember, I actually ran away from you after that first kiss out on the headlands.”

  “And I chased you, shamelessly, until you gave in,” Lia replied, grinning. “I’m not certain that was courage, though,” Lia said, debating my statement. “I wanted you, like I’d never wanted anything or anyone in my life. I fantasized about you constantly, how your hands would move on my body, the suppleness of your skin, how your arms would feel holding me, the taste of your mouth. I’d have given everything, risked anything, to have you. It was desperation, not bravery that drove me.” She laughed and shifted closer to my side.

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree,” I said, enjoying the way her eyes danced with amusement.

  “You really do see me as brave,” she observed. “When I ran from Lareem, it was your voice I heard, telling me to remember how much you loved me, that everything would work out. You kept me moving forward, even when I was lost. I knew you loved and wanted me still, that everything would be all right if I could only reach you,” she said. “Even now, plenty of things frighten me. I was terrified of having Astrid, but you approach our life with such grace and composure. You believed I was strong enough, and so I was. You’re my courage,” she whispered.

  “You give me too much credit,” I observed.

  “That would be impossible,” Lia argued. “Do you remember when you brought me to visit western Nogeland and Baneland, and we argued about the instability of the northern Baneland region? I became too wrapped up in my half-formed opinions and went off on a tangent about the next war starting here. You listened to my passionate, untrained, argument without interrupting me once. Finally, you were so quiet I was afraid I’d made you angry. When I tried to apologize, you stopped me, saying I was absolutely right, that I had changed your mind.”

  “You did change my mind,” I assured her. “I’m doing all I can to stabilize the region, but we may still see the start of a war here, if Lore’s not careful.”

  “It didn’t matter whether I was right or wrong, Pet,” Lia said. “It was the way you listened to me. You expected me to have a valid point. You had faith that my judgment was sound. I was already in love with you, but in that moment, I knew I’d do anything, sacrifice whatever it took, to be with you for the rest of our lives,” she said, smiling and raising a golden eyebrow. “You’re the only perfect person I’ve ever known.”

  “I’m far from perfect, Lia,” I argued.

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree,” she said, repeating
my own phrase with a teasing smile before kissing me, and taking her hand from mine, to ease it between my legs.

  -CH 12-

  The following months passed in a blissful state of serene domesticity. Astrid grew, and Lia settled into motherhood with the natural grace she applied to every other aspect of our lives together. Even I, who claimed to never have felt a maternal instinct in my life, grew quite motherly toward Astrid. Diapers no longer troubled me, or a runny nose, or spit up. The milky, powdery, sometimes sweet smell, I’d always found repugnant when exposed to infants in the past, became a warm comforting smell.

  My favorite game was teaching Astrid to make funny faces. She mimicked every expression I made, so I started making more and more extreme ones in an effort to challenge her. The one that stumped her was curling my tongue. Whenever she’d start crying during my watch, I’d curl my tongue at her, easily distracting her from whatever she found upsetting. I loved watching as she attempted over and over to curl her tiny pink tongue. That little crease I first noticed in M’Tek’s brow, and later saw in Lia’s, would form in the middle of Astrid’s smooth forehead, while she concentrated, as if mastering the art of curling her tongue were of vital importance.

  Astrid’s first steps were a miracle. She’d hardly reached ten months when she strained her short, chubby legs to take two clumsy steps toward me from Lia’s protective arms. It was a moment of pure delight as she momentarily triumphed over gravity, and then fell. She cried only a few minutes before trying again. Her tenacity was impressive. Within about six weeks, and after countless catastrophes, where she wound up sprawled on the stone floor, Astrid was walking.

  First months, and then seasons, passed as I divided my focus between my little family, and laying the groundwork for the woodrose vines I was planting on the land around Lauderdam Manor Estate. Procuring a specimen of the woodrose had not been an easy task. I then began painstakingly germinating seeds from the dried flower, and growing several small plants in a controlled area, so I could determine their yield. When I had enough seeds, I starting planting in earnest, a few acres in the foothills close to the manor. I began building a small distillery, specifically to produce a tincture derived from the woodrose flowers and seeds. From everything I’d read about the plants, they brought out amorous behavior in those who consumed them. My instincts told me this might be another profitable crop.

  In early spring, my woodrose vines were just beginning to break up through the fertile soil around Lauderdam, when we received an invitation to the summer solstice celebration at Saranedam Palace. Lia and I took Astrid out for a ride, to inspect the seedling plants, while I considered the possibility of attending the celebration with Lia. Without asking I knew, Lia would refuse. I put the idea from my mind and focused on my little crop.

  Lia was riding Khol, as was her preference, as I rode Fiora. Astrid sat in front of me in the saddle, her small hands gripping the reins next to mine. She kept trying to kick Fiora into going faster, but her legs were too short to reach past the saddle, so she had little effect.

  “It will be beautiful in a few weeks,” Lia observed as she gazed across the rolling foothills.

  “Yes, it will,” I agreed.

  The landscape would soon be covered with red flowers. I was planting four acres of woodroses, and expecting a small harvest, only enough to begin experimenting with the tincture making process. I’d read of several different ways woodroses were once processed. Some people ingested the seeds for some sort of spiritual journey, while others dried the roots, leaves, and flowers, and then smoked the plant material to achieve a heightened sexual response. The actual vines could also be dried and ground into powder form and inhaled, but I couldn’t find enough information on the process to recreate it safely. Making a tincture seemed to me the simplest way to process the plant. From that point I planned to blend an herbal wine, based on a fusion with my most pungent berries in order to counteract the natural, bitter, taste of the woodrose plant.

  “Do you really think this will improve your berrywines?” Lia asked.

  “It will make them more potent,” I replied. “From what I’ve discovered so far, the flavor will be more acrid. It’s likely the mixture will be too bitter to drink.”

  “Then why are you growing them?” she asked.

  “I really don’t know,” I admitted, smiling at Lia. “Instinct, I guess. That, and I desperately need a challenge. I’m losing my mind just focusing on our torppine vines.”

  “Are you becoming restless?” Lia asked, glancing over at me before her gaze dropped to Astrid, who was sitting in front of me. She smiled sweetly at our daughter.

  “I have you, Lia, so of course I’m happy,” I assured her. “I have a great deal of energy, though. My mind rarely stops. I spent the early part of my life, even my childhood, solving the problems of Faeland under M’Tek’s direction. And then, until a few years ago, I governed Nogeland and the Baneland Territory. That was all before I was made Lemu,” I explained. “I’m not like your mothers, or even you and Ania, I think,” I said, trying to explain the manic energy I worked to contain. “I became Lemu late, and after years of poor health. This vigor is still not natural in me. I’ve had to learn to suppress the extreme vitality that was born in me after Lore changed me.”

  “You’re extremely restless then,” Lia observed, smiling and urging Khol forward as we began walking the edge of my woodrose field. “Our life is too quiet for you.”

  “Our life is idyllic, Lia. I adore you and Astrid. As surprising as that notion is to me, I even love being a mother,” I replied.

  “But?” she asked, a golden eyebrow lifting. “I sense a but in there,” she observed calmly.

  “Occasionally, I’d like for us to be more in the world than we are,” I replied, my gaze shifting from Lia to the fields around me with the little vines pushing up through the dirt. I watched as a hare took flight across the field at great speed. “We have little in the way of society in Baneland. Astrid has no suitable playmates,” I observed, my mind returning to the conversation.

  “We’ll accept the invitation to the summer solstice at Saranedam Palace, then,” Lia said evenly. “It’s time I stopped hiding, and started thinking about someone other than myself.”

  “No. Lia, that’s not what I was saying,” I replied, not wanting her to do something that made her uncomfortable. “I think we should ease into this. We can host a winter solstice celebration at Lauderdam, during the Fae season, and invite Emmuska and Jestin, and other Baneland landholders. Also, Astrid can play with Vilken children. Her friends don’t have to be Fae or Noge. We can offer to educate a few local Vilken children with Astrid. She’ll be fine. As for me, I’ve managed this long,” I assured her. “You needn’t worry about me.”

  “I don’t want you to manage, Pet,” Lia observed with a wry smile. “You were once at the center of society, dictating not only trends in fashion, but political policy, across both realms and the Baneland territory, playing us all as if we were instruments in an orchestra with you as our conductor.”

  “I was certainly more influential, Lia, but I was less happy,” I replied, smiling over her aggrandized view of my past. “My power and influence were always only an extension of the two Queens. I’m likely more powerful in my own right now.”

  “Regardless, it’s time I overcame my anxieties. I’ve been nurturing them, and allowing them to control me,” Lia added.

  “I don’t want you doing anything that makes you uneasy,” I said. “Especially for me.”

  “I know. You want to protect me from everything, and I love you for that,” she said gently. “But you can’t.”

  “Lia, he might be there,” I said. “Have you considered that?”

  “I assume you’re referring to Lore Gere,” Lia said, in a mildly irritated tone. “I can face him. I’m not ashamed because of what he did to me.”

  “That’s not what I meant, darling,” I said. “You have no reason to be ashamed.”

  Lia didn’t respond
immediately, but gazed out beyond the burgeoning vines to the mountains in the distance. Astrid was babbling softly, and I leaned down to whisper to her that she was being good. Astrid turned her head up to grin at me, showing off her oversized front teeth. In spite of the serious conversation I was having with Lia, I grinned at Astrid, and some of the tension eased from my neck.

  “I need to face him,” Lia said, bringing my attention back to her. “It’s time.”

  “All right,” I said. “If it’s what you want.”

  Astrid was squirming in front of me, obviously displeased by having my attention usurped by her mother so quickly. I leaned my head forward and kissed the top of her reddish golden head, trying to settle her down.

  “Ma!” Astrid exclaimed loudly. “Ma Ma!”

  I looked at Lia. Her eyes had grown very round in surprise, and were focused on Astrid.

  “Astrid just spoke, Pet,” Lia said. “She called you Mamma.”

  “She was probably just babbling,” I said.

  “You’re Mamma,” Lia said with a laugh. “I guess we’ll have to come up with a nickname for me.”

  “Most children say some variation of Ma first. It wasn’t necessarily directed at me,” I observed.

  “Pet, she called you Mamma,” Lia said, grinning. “You’ll just have to accept that you’re Mamma now.”

  ****

  Over the following months leading up to the solstice celebration at Saranedam, my woodrose vines grew at an extremely rapid rate. Lia and I rode out with Astrid to assess their growth nearly every day, and always I was astounded by the progression. I had my field workers gathering flowers and seeds from the vines, and pruning aggressively, simply to keep the vines from taking over the neighboring fields.

  Those early clippings were already in the initial stages of processing in my distillery. The plant material was being baked to dry it. Once I had enough, I would soak it in a vat of concentrated alcohol, derived from berry seeds, until the solvent evaporated away, creating a highly potent tincture. Still, at that point, I was uncertain how to go about blending this woodrose tincture with my berrywines. That obstacle would be approached after I had a large enough quantity of the preparation, and understood the potency.