Lora of Two Worlds

March, and the sunny sky was like the smell of roasting meat on the wind, you couldn’t help wanting to feast.

Lora iron pote from a solid sleep, rolled over, and fished out the treasures under her pillow. Today she not only slipped the Rose Needle onto her finger, she also clutched the Twin Medallion. She’d figured out how to post her ”lost-and-found notice.”

”Margaret!”

”My lady, the Countess sent Margaret and Azalea to burn candles at the Weaver’s Chapel.” Lucy came in with a brass basin.

”Gone off to play? Without me?”

Lucy laughed: ”The wool market opens today, the first of March.

They say the Queen and the great ladies used to lead the procession to the Weaver’s Chapel themselves. Nowadays even the Countesses and young ladies don’t bother, they send someone to light candles and leave an offering.”

The Weaver’s Chapel, stuffy and smoky. Not much fun. But the wool market, that was different. Not just wool and flax; everything under the sun. Just the thing for Lora.

The first of March? Back in her own world there was no such holiday. She’d heard of a spring festival in the south where young men and women sang in the parks to find partners, solving the problem of aging singles.

”Perfect, I’ll find Carl.” Lora pinned the medallion to her girdle.

Lucy looked down: ”My lady, when did you get this pendant? I’ve never seen it.”

”It’s not mine. I’m wearing it so its owner sees it and comes to claim it.”

Lucy snorted: ”My lady, you pin it to your girdle, then throw your stole over it, no one will see a thing.”

”What do I do then?” Lora looked around. The front-laced kirtle and skirt didn’t have many options. She touched her bare neck:

”Got it, find me a colored cord. I’ll hang it round my neck.”

”The medallion on your neck? That’s a new one.”

Lucy found a gold filigree chain, swapped the medallion for the original pendant, and it looked... not too odd.

Somehow... it resembled the dog collar Leon had given her. Never mind, the Empire’s fashion was what it was.

”Good, this way it shows.” Lora preened in front of the polished brass mirror. A lost-and-found notice, right around her neck.

Lucy and the two junior maids stifpered giggles:

Visible, all right. But what proper man would stare at a young woman’s chest? And even if he saw it, would he dare ask for it back?

Lora was all set. But she couldn’t find Carl.

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Today Lord Legard was touring Lohenheim, and the Count was accompanying him.

The young lords didn’t have to attend the tour, but they had to report to the barracks, from the opening of the wool market through the Cold Hearth fast, these were the busiest days of the Lohenheim spring.

Merchant boats that had waited out the first month at home were arriving in waves. More people in the streets meant more screening, more watches.

And where there was a fair, how could Lora not go?

She came out of her mother’s court and skipped toward the outer gate, startling the paired swans into flapping and honking.

”My lady, no carriage?” Lucy, clutching the coin the Countess had given her, was already out of breath.

”A carriage isn’t exploring!”

Lora had been planning for days. Norton’s hearing was nearly recovered. His treatment would wrap up within ten days. After that, it was up to his own training.

As for speech, practice, practice, practice. He’d outpace a toddler in no time.

She still hadn’t found a way home. But she couldn’t waste the trip. She meant to learn the Empire’s business models and tax structures, maybe earn a little coin for House Odenheim, so her brothers could marry in style.

She’d talked with Gareth a few days ago and learned that the brothers took after their father: they had nothing to do with money. On top of that, the Empire didn’t allow officials to trade directly, so they had a perfect excuse to wash their hands of the household finances.

The Countess managed the house, yes, but only the inner household. Everything outside was handled by Steward Weber.

Weber had tried to give Lora a show of force when she first arrived. It had backfired, all it did was let the Count discover that Norton had another story behind him.

Lora had a feeling Weber wasn’t a simple man.

She was about to walk out the side gate when two ox-carts pulled up. Behind her, Norton’s voice rang out, thrilled:

”Guardian!”

A middle-aged man tying off the ox rope didn’t look up. He limped on, minding his business.

Norton ran to him, took the basket from his hands, and said, trembling:

”Guardian, it’s me!”

”Norton? Norton! How... you can talk?” Coltrain seized his arms, wouldn’t let go.

Norton’s eyes were wet. He nodded hard: ”Norton... can hear... your voice! The young lady... cured...”

Coltrain looked toward the gate. A girl in a blue jacket and red skirt stood in the doorway, smiling at them.

He bowed deeply to Lora, said nothing, but his gratitude was whole. Then he turned, rummaged in the ox-cart, and pulled out a basket. Half a basket of golden apricots, the first ripe ones of the year.

He smiled and held them out: ”First of the season. Not many, won’t go far in the house. Take them all to the young lady.”

”Good!”

Lora took the basket: ”Thank you, Steward Coltrain. Delivering produce today?”

”That’s right. We’re growing wheat, two crops in three years, with a barley rotation in between. It’s the slow season, but the vegetable seedlings are coming fast. Brought two cartloads for the house to taste.”

Coltrain had been at the estate a month and was already a hand.

Lora hadn’t expected the Empire to grow grain crops. She blinked:

”Steward Coltrain, apart from feeding the house, how much surplus does the estate turn out in a year?”

”I’ve only just arrived, couldn’t give you a real figure. But ”

Steward Weber appeared from nowhere: ”Steward Coltrain, since you’re here, why aren’t the goods logged in?”

He glanced at the basket of apricots in Norton’s hands and gave a thin smile: ”When did produce from the estate start being distributed at the gate?”

”A few trifles, am I not allowed to decide that?”

Coltrain didn’t take him seriously. He patted Norton’s shoulder and limped back to the ox-cart. The farmhands had already unloaded and were hauling baskets inside.

”Norton, take the apricots to the tower chamber. Have them washed. One plate for Grandmother, one plate for the Countess. The rest go in the well to chill, I want some when I get back.”

Lora lifted her chin and walked past the ox-carts.

When the side gate was clear, Aiden whispered:

”Steward, Coltrain’s estate is going to be tricky to manage. Add a young lady who puts her nose in everything...”

”Ha ha ha ha!” Weber laughed as if he’d heard the first good joke of spring:

”You mean the girl in the inner quarters who hasn’t even had her coming-out?”