Lora of Two Worlds

Seeing Leon enter, Lora had stalked off. Von Klein and Alvin stood:

”My lord, you’ve come. I brewed herb tea. Three boilings, returned to the pot, the perfect moment.”

Leon looked at the table. A small brazier held an iron pot, bubbling. The air smelled of leek, ginger, dates, orange peel, mint, and herbs, mixed. Salt dish, grinding tray, mortar, sieve, spoon, all laid out.

But the tray, mortar, and spoon were arranged in a peculiar pattern. Clearly, Lora had been playing with them.

His entrance had cost her her herb tea.

”Linn, ladle two bowls. Send them to the young lady’s room.”

Linn carried the herb tea away. Von Klein smiled:

”I watched the King’s Levy herb tea servants brew for the King every day. One pot, three bowls kept. The rest given away.

Even the spring leaves, gathered within ten days, delivered to the palace, that’s how refined. They spoiled my palate.”

Leon sat. Lifted the bowl. Sipped. Frowned.

Von Klein asked: ”Not enough? The salt, the young lady added it. She’s inexperienced, perhaps too little ”

So she’d been the one playing. Good, the two bowls sent to her room would let her taste her own mistake. Leon smiled faintly, swallowed:

”The salt is fine. Only, I don’t drink herb tea after mid-afternoon. I heard the herb tea monopoly trial in the southern provinces has increased tax revenue. My brother the King plans to enforce it across all domains next year. We’ll see how that goes.”

”So it was you who told Lora about the herb tea monopoly? I wondered, she suddenly asked me for money, said she’d buy hills and plant herb tea gardens.”

Roland had a little money. His monthly pay, mostly invested in Hugo’s wine house and stationer’s shop. He ate at home or next door at the Grand Princess’s. This trip, he’d drawn from Hugo’s shop and found his money had multiplied.

”She asked me too. Said she’d buy herb tea gardens and make me a partner, twice-yearly dividends.” Alvin laughed. He didn’t know where his sister got these ideas.

So she didn’t invite her cousin?

More importantly, Leon had never told her about the herb tea monopoly. This ”heard” came from his former-life memory. The proposal wouldn’t be submitted until after St. Agnes’ Eve. How did she know?

Whether she was prescient, or from a future even further than his, it didn’t matter anymore.

Leon felt, more than ever: he had to hold onto this girl. Whether for the love in his heart, or for the empire he was building.

This tale has been pilfered from NovelPhoenix. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

He had to grip tight this small woman who, at any moment, might run off angry.

He half-smiled: ”You have a way to make money and forgot your cousin? I came from Augustburg, sold and gave away everything of value in my mansion. The Lohenheim residence was my brother the King’s gift, no cost.

To compensate me, the gold, silver, and silk he gave me took two trips to haul to Lohenheim. But wealth, the more the better. Alvin, since my cousin didn’t invite me, let me join your share.”

”In that case, I’ve saved a few hundred ounces over the decades. I’ll entrust them to you, deputy commander, earn some dividends...”

They all laughed. Like a band of thieves dividing loot.

Leon didn’t drink herb tea. They chatted briefly and dispersed.

He stood on the second-floor gallery, looking at the sky. A half-moon hung at a slant. But the stars were still many, moon and stars competing, beautiful.

Then he saw someone in the rooftop watchtower. This posting house had a night watchman?

His eye dropped to the base of the watchtower stairs. A lantern hung there. And below it, Shawn.

He glanced at Lyle. Lyle followed.

”It’s dark out here. What are you looking at?” Leon deliberately heavy-footed on the stairs. Lora saw him, turned away, gazing at the distance.

Leon stood at the railing. Two paces from her.

”The view.”

Lora said, flatly. She’d gulped a mouthful of salt herb tea, choked it out her nose, run outside for air, and discovered the rooftop pavilion.

The view? Leon tried to set aside his prejudice against the dark:

From this height, everything visible. The black night layered itself: distant mountains, ink. Forests, deep indigo. Roads and houses softened by torchlight, hazy twilight.

”Still angry? Can I... know why?” Leon asked, carefully.

Lora wasn’t unreasonable. A day’s reflection told her: this needed Roland and Faye to discuss openly.

There was still time on the road. Her brother and Faye had done nothing wrong. The one at fault, was Leon.

”I’ll tell you. Your cause is important. But my brother’s and my friend’s lifelong happiness is important too. You can’t bind two people who’ve just met, no deep understanding, into marriage, for your sake.

The Empire’s had diplomatic brides, hasn’t it? People count their dowries.

Who counts their happiness afterward? Faye’s great-great-grandmother was one. What happened to her? She survived, came back to the Empire, and wasn’t even allowed to keep her own name.

My brother is your vanguard. But he’s not I. Even Linn and Lyle, they should have the right to chase their own happiness. If you’re afraid you can’t control the Black Eagle, why don’t you marry Faye yourself?”

She’d said too much. Some of the sharper words she’d planned, she couldn’t remember. She fell silent.

”Are you finished?”

Leon spoke. His throat was dry. Given Lora’s intelligence, she wouldn’t rage without having asked both parties first.

He hadn’t asked Faye. But that night, he’d gone to Roland’s room. Asked plainly. Had Roland hidden his true feelings to spare Leon?

Lora heard the strain in his voice. Had she... wronged him?

”This whole speech, ’you you you’, are you trying to distance yourself from me?” Leon felt an inexplicable loneliness.

I said all that, and his focus is on the pronoun?

Lora was angry and amused. She didn’t want to discuss it further. She curtsied, turned toward the stairs.

But Leon strode forward. Seized her wrist. Pressed her against the pavilion pillar. One word at a time:

”I... love you. I’ve thought about it for a long time. The ’love’ you spoke of, is it cherishing, protecting, being willing to labor and sacrifice for the other? If so, I love you. And so, I won’t marry any woman but you.”

Lora’s mind went blank. Like the sky after fireworks, a brief, ringing emptiness.

She stared at his handsome face. Saw the hope and uncertainty in his eyes. And suddenly, enlightenment:

Am I an idiot? I asked Faye and Roland, ”do you love her”, they understood something completely different! No wonder they both hedged and deflected. I thought they were dodging because they couldn’t answer!

She swallowed. Stammered:

”N-not exactly. B-but people who love each other... would definitely... choose to do this.”

”Then... can we love each other?”

The half-moon had hidden itself. Only the stars remained, winking, one eye open, one closed.