Lora of Two Worlds

At the sight of Daphne going over the rail, several men on board jumped in after her. She hadn't even had time to sink before they hauled her back up.

Everyone made room. The ship's cook brought the unused rosemary broth. The maid draped a cloak over her shoulders.

They'd been clumsy fisherfolk hauling Lora out earlier. This time they knew what they were doing. Daphne's eyes were glassy, but she hadn't swallowed much river water at all.

Jumping into the river in front of everyone, it looked theatrical. But who cared about theatrical, when there was a show to watch?

"Enough of this nonsense!" Warwick was furious with his sister, and annoyed at Felix for being so unreasonable. He vented sideways:

"What does jumping in prove? Who are you performing for? Even without a witness, do you think the Sheriff, the Grand Princess's own son, would beat a confession out of you? You've embarrassed House Dunbar, that's your affair. But you've dragged the Dowager Lady and Prince Ambrose down with you. How's Felix supposed to keep his post in Lohenheim after this?"

Daphne's father, Lord Dunbar, was the Royal Commissioner of River Transport. Every cargo, every coin, every sack of grain coming into Lohenheim passed through his hands, and so did the traffic between the two capitals. The greatest of the royal storehouses, the Crown Granary itself, fell within his remit.

It was a post that touched the food and clothing of nearly two million people in both capitals. On paper, Lord Dunbar was one of His Majesty's most trusted men. In private, everyone knew it was a sinecure secured for him by the Dowager Lady Elena, the consort who'd borne a princess to the late King, as a plum post for her brother-in-law.

With an aunt like the Dowager Lady behind her, Daphne had been confident she could marry Felix, as long as no one else interfered.

Just now, she was smiling, not smiling, her eyes unfocused, letting her brother say whatever he liked without protest.

Lora, watching from a little way off, felt that something was wrong. She started toward her, but Brendan, looking thunderous, caught her arm.

Don't go asking for trouble.

While everyone else was waiting to see the Sheriff made a fool of, the master of the boat, Simon Salt, was pacing like an ant on a hot griddle. Two young ladies had gone off his boat like ravioli into a pot today, and whichever house he'd offended, he didn't want to offend either.

Money would smooth it over. Luckily, no one was badly hurt. He'd brought a quantity of Eastern Sea curiosities to gift these grandees after the banquet. He'd just have to double the shares for the Odenheims, the Dunbars, and the Fairfaxes.

He was still calculating when a steward came running up, panic-stricken, clutching a small bronze bowl and stammering:

"Young master, rat poison. This lady. I think she ate half a bowl of the rat bait from the cabin!"

Everyone went cold. Eaten rat poison, and then jumped? So Daphne hadn't been playacting. She'd meant to die in front of the Sheriff.

A death. Felix's heart lurched. "Get a physician on shore, now!"

Warwick snatched the bowl from the steward's hand. Inside, a few grains of barley remained, definitely the poisoned bait the boat kept to keep rats from gnawing the hull.

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"Sister! How could you be so stupid!" He slammed the bowl and the remaining half-bowl of poisoned barley down at Felix's feet. "This is your investigation, my lord. The Dowager Lady dotes on my sister. Think well how you'll go and apologize."

Daphne smiled at last. She turned her head to look at Felix, her eyes swimming.

"That's right. An investigation that drives an innocent girl to her death. Felix. I've loved you for years, but that's no reason for you to help Lora bully me. You owe my aunt an explanation. And you owe me one."

The young lordlings nearby were glowing with glee. Daphne's words had teeth. Felix Fairfax, that paragon of good family, good looks, good learning, the "other people's son" their own parents were forever holding up, was, it turned out, a two-timing scoundrel!

They couldn't wait to get home and tell their fathers all about it.

Was Warwick raised on dung? Watching his sister get bullied and just standing around flapping his lips.

If it came to a fight, the lordlings would have put their money on Warwick.

The Aurelian Empire loved a bet, anything from cricket fights to elephant hunts, horse races to chess. If they hadn't owed Felix and Simon a courtesy, the lordlings would have opened a book on the spot right there on the barge.

While everyone waited for Felix to be made a fool of, Lora, standing behind Carl, watched Daphne with cold eyes. She smiled inwardly.

A fine diversionary tactic. Start a melodramatic tragedy and everyone forgets you slandered her father and the Lord Regent. Lora didn't care for Felix one way or the other, but the original Lora had, and that meant she couldn't let Daphne finish this play unhindered.

Through the noise, Daphne clutched her stomach. Her face was beginning to show pain. The physician hadn't arrived yet. Felix was beginning to regret, not the fear of blame, but because a life was at stake. Perhaps he shouldn't have pushed her so hard.

Just as he was at his wits' end, Lora stepped forward:

"Lord Salt, go and prepare a large jar of milk, five eggs separated to keep only the whites, and five cups of warm salted water, one spoon of salt to one cup of water. Bring them at once."

At last, someone giving orders. Simon, dripping with sweat, jumped to it. Lora took a pitcher of water from the side table, washed her hands, picked up a long-handled silver spoon, and walked toward Daphne:

"I'll make her vomit. She ate the poison recently. It's still in her stomach. If she brings it up, she'll be fine."

Warwick, holding his sister, brightened and waved the maids back. But Daphne's face twisted with hatred. She turned her head away:

"Get away! Stop playing the saint. What do you even know? I won't give you the chance to poke and prod at me."

"There're a hundred ways to prove your innocence. Dying is the stupidest. If you die, you think the Sheriff will be the most upset? No. Only your parents and your brothers."

Lora had been about to say "this arsenic-soaked barley is a small dose and hard to digest, you'll likely pass it before it kills you," but seeing Daphne's theatrics, she was happy to give her a little more rope.

There were a lot of people here, and Lora didn't yet know the relationships behind their faces. If it hadn't been for Felix's obvious anguish, she wouldn't have stepped forward at all.

While she spoke, Lora crouched down, gripped Daphne's chin with her left hand to force her mouth open. Daphne tried to shake her off, but Warwick, behind her, held her head steady.

Daphne was cursing inwardly.

Brother, are you an idiot? If I'm carried home on a litter, not only will everyone forget what I said, Felix will have to come to our house and apologize. Father will put on a cold face, and Felix will marry me fast enough.

Lora didn't know what Daphne was scheming. She focused on sliding the spoon handle into Daphne's mouth, pressing down on the root of her tongue. Daphne gagged. Lora didn't stop. She slid the handle a little further toward the back of the throat, then pulled it out sharply.

Daphne retched, brought up some yellow fluid. Before she could catch her breath, her stomach contracted again, and up came more, including several grains of the same barley from the bronze bowl. She really had eaten it. They'd need to bring up more.

Lora took the salted water from the steward and held it to Daphne's lips:

"The poison's up. If you don't want to suffer without dying, drink this water, and keep bringing it up until it runs clear."

Vomiting had set Daphne's tears and snot flowing. She wailed, miserable:

"Lora von Odenheim, you don't know the first thing about saving anyone. You just want me to make a fool of myself."

Her voice trailed off. She seemed to have fainted.

Warwick, beside her, wept theatrically:

"Sister! Don't die!"

Daphne, being shaken by him, nearly passed out from sheer irritation.

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