Lora of Two Worlds

In the garden, green trees hid the cheers and laughter of men and women at play. Unconnected to that joy: a small pleasure boat, drifting slowly down the narrow channel from Immortal Lake to the River Loene. On deck, Lyle pushed a pole. In the cabin of painted glass, four young lords sat. ”When Lyle and I got upstairs, the love-philtre had burned halfway.  That stuff had something extra in it, even a man on his guard would want to breathe deep. Lord Felix was already... affected. We didn’t hesitate, knocked him out and carried him down. But we heard someone coming. Mother Blaire found us, hid us in a conservatory. After the newcomers went upstairs, we slipped out.” Felix sat beside them, eyes hollow, face frozen. The back of his head rested against the cabin post. He had nothing to say. From the state of his robes when he came to, he hadn’t gone all the way with Dorothy. But his upper garment had been fully open, there had been contact. Skin on skin. He’d been a proper man all his life. And I time, holding a woman, his mind had substituted Lora... and he’d been ready to... What kind of beast am I? Leon thought deeper: Could Linnea also have wanted Felix and failed? This didn’t look like a woman’s scheme to destroy a rival’s reputation. It was too crude. Lord Dunbar, the Royal Commissioner of Transport, a creature of the Dowager Lady Elena and Prince Ambrose. The court factions ebbed and flowed. The Chancellor’s party had been forced from Augustburg to a provincial post.  Legard, though he was the other party’s man, had also been kicked out. The court now belonged to the moderates. Lord Dunbar, the Royal Commissioner of Transport, a creature of the Dowager Lady Elena and Prince Ambrose. The Count of Odenheim, a loyalist of the King and the Crown Prince. And the Grand Princess, defender of the Aurelian crown, her son the finest of the young lords. The court factions ebbed and flowed. The Chancellor’s party had been forced from Augustburg to a provincial post. Legard, though he was the other party’s man, had also been kicked out. The court now belonged to the moderates. Legard wasn’t content. He meant to use non-political means to achieve political ends. This scheme was his foothold. But Leon couldn’t understand: why such a vulgar method? If something had happened, a Fairfax-Dunbar marriage would have solved everything. House Odenheim would have been a footnote. Something was missing from the picture. Felix was in agony. Roland was grim. Leon couldn’t discuss it now. Three men, each in his own dark thoughts, sat in silence. Near the palace wall, the boat stopped. Mother Blaire was waiting at the gate. The five of them claimed they’d lost their way and slipped out through a side gate. Not until Roland climbed the old apple tree back into the Grand Princess’s mansion did Leon find his answer: ”Of course! Lady Dorothy is most likely to be named a royal mistress. She’d go to the Serene Palace first, for the Dowager Lady to train her in court etiquette. The entry date might be St. Agnes’ Eve.” Felix’s brow furrowed and smoothed and furrowed again: ”Then this wasn’t about my cousin and me at all? My fault, Mother would petition the King. House Odenheim wouldn’t consider a Fairfax match. And the Dunbars couldn’t place another faction at the King’s side...” ”Right. The biggest winner is Legard. If anything else comes up that crosses his will, none of your houses will dare speak against him, you’d all be afraid of the King’s anger over this business.” Thank God, nothing had happened. The only victim was Dorothy. After this, even if it was only an attempt, could the gossip be stopped? The King would be doing the Dunbars a favor by not punishing them. Dorothy’s entry to court was finished. Lora had come out to enjoy herself. After this, even if no one else knew, even if the garden party was still going, she’d lost all heart for it. Not because she had feelings for Felix. But because Felix was a good man. Good men shouldn’t be trapped by plots. He deserved to chase the life he wanted. ”Lil, don’t pout. Roland said Felix got back safe. Don’t worry.” Carl had heard Roland’s analysis and Lora’s account of what she’d heard upstairs. Cross-referenced, even the Count had gone cold. Not because of what had happened, but because of Legard’s ambition. ”Arrived days and already has his granddaughter pulling this filth. That old wolf will make more trouble.” The Count slammed the table. Seeing Lora startle, he softened: ”I heard, the King had a spell of the head ailment.” ”The head ailment?” The royal family’s hereditary condition. The most famous case: the old King, who’d suffered migraines so severe that nothing helped, in the end, only alchemical elixirs gave relief, and they killed him. From what Lora knew: after the Silver Coup, King Edmond’s shock and grief had brought on a stroke. He couldn’t walk, which was how the chamberlains had ”confined” him. So he’d had the head ailment before that? ”Could it be...” Roland understood his father’s meaning: If the King’s health is failing, the succession must be settled. ”Exactly. Baron Chaun is out of the question. All eyes are on the eldest prince, Prince Ewan, and Prince Ambrose. The priority is naming a Crown Prince. We must prepare.” They left the Count’s study. Carl walked Lora toward the rear courtyard. Gareth came riding through the front gate at a gallop, leaping off at the hall steps, tossing the reins to a guard: ”Father in the hall?” ”No, in his study. Gareth, what’s happened?” Roland, following Lora out, asked. Gareth didn’t stop: ”Lord Legard’s riding out to the district towns to press for taxes. His household guard can’t be spared.” They followed Gareth to the study. Carl, who’d taken a strong dislike to Legard, scoffed: ”What’s that to us? Does he want an escort?” ”You’re not thinking far enough.” Roland’s fists clenched. The thing Leon had feared, had happened. Legard couldn’t spare his own men. The escort for the royal envoy to Yorvik would fall to the Lohenheim garrison. By the rank of the warrant, it would be perfectly normal to ask Alvin to lead it. Roland followed Gareth in. Lora followed Roland. ”Hm? Why are you back?” The Count saw his daughter: ”Lil, your brothers and I have military business. Go to your mother.” ”Father, I don’t listen to military business. But if it’s about my brother, I listen. I’m an Odenheim too. The people who’ve schemed against this house haven’t left me out of their calculations.” She meant the river, and the Raindrop Terrace. Gareth didn’t bother with her presence. He pulled a letter from his tunic: ”From the Lord Regent’s office.” ”Pressing for taxes? He just arrived and he’s already riding out to squeeze the counties?” The Count laughed coldly: ”Is he afraid his men will be transferred away, leaving him too thin to handle me? And he dares name Alvin to lead the envoy’s escort? Who gave him the nerve to push House Odenheim around in Lohenheim?” The second shoe had dropped. Roland, strangely, felt calm: ”Father, anger is what he wants. We go. And we go loudly.” ”What do you mean?” ”Lil’s right. When the storm comes, no one in this house stays dry. I have an idea...” The wind rises. With the wind at your back, you drift. Against the wind, you soar.