Lora of Two Worlds

The carriage crawled. Lora decided, at lunch, she’d get out and confront Roland.

One was her brother. The other was her tiger-fighting friend. If Leon wanted to bind people to his cause for his ambition, fine. But she couldn’t watch her own family walk into a marriage trap.

The carriage was agonizingly slow. At last, a riverbank. Alvin called a halt.

Lora leapt out and ran for the front of the column. She’d barely rounded the corner when she spun back.

The men had stripped to the waist, washing in the river. Laughing, splashing, trying to scrub the road’s heat into the eastern sea. Roland was among them.

Lora turned back, pouting. A tall shadow blocked her path:

”Wait till they’re dressed. I’ll send Lyle to fetch you.”

She didn’t need to look. The sanctimonious hypocrite. She lifted her chin, didn’t even glance at him, and ”hmph’d”:

”None of your business!”

What did I say wrong? She was fine in the carriage. She gets out, and she’s angry?

Leon stood, baffled. Watched her back. Ran through every word he’d said, nothing. Sighed. Walked toward the river.

Lunch was simple: dry rations prepared at the inn, flatbread stuffed with pickled vegetables. The women had mutton steamed pies and two boiled eggs each.

Roland tapped the carriage window: ”Sister, the river’s clear now. Do you two want to wash?”

Faye, hearing Roland’s voice, went pink. She shook her head at Lora. Lora called out:

”Brother, wait. Come with me.”

The moment she stepped down, Roland studied her: ”What? Did you and Faye fight?”

”No, we’re fine. Who started that rumor?” Obviously, the cousin.

She didn’t have time for him. She scanned, no sign of Chester Horn. She walked with Roland:

”Brother, at Highgarden. You asked Lord Horn for Faye’s hand?”

So that was it. Roland smiled:

”Faye told you? I was afraid she’d be shy if it came out too early, awkward on the road. Yes, I proposed.”

”Then let me ask you: you want to marry her. Do you love her?”

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Lora didn’t beat around the bush. But she was too direct. Roland didn’t know how to answer. ”Love”, in this context, he wasn’t sure how to express it. Lora saw his hesitation and flared:

”Don’t think, just answer!”

That fierce? Roland jumped. Remembering how much Highgarden meant to his sister, he tried:

”Between husband and wife, trust comes first. Time builds affection. And, half of Highgarden is in her father’s hands. If I become his son-in-law, the wealth stays secure. We’ve placed a foothold in Yorvik. That helps Leon’s cause ”

”I knew it. You’re doing it for him! Brother, there’re a hundred ways to build a career. Why use marriage as the price?”

Lora was so angry she didn’t even wash. She turned and stormed back.

”Hey, sister!”

Roland stood at the water’s edge, baffled. What had he said wrong?

Leon walked over: ”Well? Why was she upset? Did Horn say something to Faye?”

”Leon, do you ’love’ her?” Roland asked, out of nowhere.

”Love? Cherish? Protect?” Leon wasn’t sure what Roland meant, exactly.

”No, her tone was heavy. It’s not that simple.” Roland tried to frame it. He cleared his throat:

”Let me do an impression. See if you can understand.”

Roland raised an eyebrow, mimicked Lora’s exact tone: ”Then let me ask you, you want to marry her. Do you love her?”

Right, Leon had said he wanted to marry Lora. Perfect person to ask.

”I love... her?”

Two educated men of the Empire stood by a river, puzzling over a word.

Why didn’t she ask: ”Would you be willing to be birds of one wing, branches of one tree?”

They hadn’t grasped the depth and breadth of Lora’s ”love.” But she was angry. That was clear.

Even after they’d checked into the Yuanshi posting house, she hadn’t given them a single smile.

”Has she always been this quick to anger?”

Leon only remembered her smiling. In the Crown Granary dog-hole. On the old apple tree. On horseback. On the prison roof.

”Ah, don’t think about it. A girl’s heart is the size of a needle’s eye. But she doesn’t hold grudges. Sleep on it, she’ll forget.”

Roland had given up. His sister, angry or not, still his sister. Maybe tomorrow she’d be fine.

Then, voices from the next room. He called Lyle in to ask. Lyle said Lora and Alvin were chatting in von Klein’s room. Roland jumped off the bed:

”Let’s go see. If she’s talking, she’s over it.”

At the door, he heard Lora asking von Klein about Linnie:

”Lord Envoy, when the King confirms Sheffield as marcher duke, could you petition for a first-rank lady’s title for Linnie? She’s alone in Yorvik. If anything happens, a title gives her protection.”

”Mm. You have a kind heart, thinking of her. Since she calls me godfather, I’ll speak for her at court. A woman of such spirit, the King would approve.

A first-rank title is nothing. If she can keep an eye on Yorvik’s movements for the King, even a county princess title isn’t without precedent.”

Von Klein never made promises lightly. But this journey, he’d survived. A second life.

He’d pledged himself to Leon. Naturally, he’d plan for the cause.

He saw it clearly: Linnie was beautiful and ambitious. Used well, she could help Leon manage Yorvik. Used badly, she could become Yorvik’s instrument of independence.

So: a county princess title. It would remind her where she stood. And it would make Sheffield trust her, but not entirely. That tension, was the leash.

”That would be wonderful. Thank you for your trouble.”

A genuine windfall. Lora only wanted to spare Linnie the tragic fate she’d had in history. But this beardless chamberlain, who didn’t speak in a high voice, wasn’t effeminate, had earned a bit more of Lora’s respect.

Outside the window, Leon found this kind of maneuvering intimately familiar. And Lora’s request showed her true nature.

Roland kicked the door open and walked in. Leon couldn’t keep lurking, followed.

The moment Lora saw them, she stood, curtsied, rolled her eyes at them, and swept out.

The anger had grown.