Other Lives (2 page)

A pretty woman, standing by Darius’ side, caught sight of them first and smiled. 

“Nikolaos. You have returned,” she said loudly. “You bring a friend too.”

“I do. Lady Miranda, this is my liege, the marquis Darius Lerae. And of course, the Lady Retha.”

“I told Darius you were up to something,” said the woman, playfully tapping his shoulder with a fan. “Here you are appearing out of nowhere with a girl. What
have you
been up to Nikolaos?”

“Nothing exciting. Meeting with relatives.”

“Are you family?” 

“No,” Miranda said quickly. “No, I’m just visiting with Nikolaos for the winter.” 

“Nikolaos, is she joking? She’ll be bored to death. The winter is dreadful at Asenat.”

“My uncle thinks it would to do me well to meet with some more people my age and Nikolaos is a friend of the family. I live in Nortre and since my cousin married, it’s a little lonely in our household,” she said, as they’d rehearsed. Saying her uncle basically sold her off to a stranger did not sound adequate, but the lines she had spouted were spoken with an utter lack of conviction, the words strained and listless. 

“Well, Nortre, no wonder. I stopped there once on my way to Lenevo. The whole place has more sheep than people,” Retha quipped. “If it weren’t for the port I assure you it would have been deserted decades ago and left for the sheep.” 

The woman chuckled and Darius was grinning. Miranda glanced at Nikolaos feeling lost. 

“I’m glad to see you are safely back,” Darius said to Nikolaos, but his face lacked any mirth. “You should have dinner with me and tell me about your trip.”

“Of course.”

Darius nodded and turned away. He had barely glanced at her. Miranda wasn’t sure if he’d known she was even there. 

3

It was all very different from home. Asenat was a relatively new fortress built over the remains of a previous much smaller castle. But what it lacked in age it made up in grace. Decorated wooden panels, painted ceilings, colored glass windows enhanced the edifice.

Most notorious was the garden. In the summer Miranda had been told carved fountains filled with the murmur of water and flowers bloomed all around. For now the ground was cold and dead.

Sitting next to a stone lion, Miranda shoved some twigs aside with her foot while contemplating the bare soil. In their house at Nortre there had been an interior courtyard with two flower beds. She’d always envied the richer families who could have real gardens with exotic plants instead of a few sad daisies.  

Miranda tried to imagine the garden as it would look in the spring. She didn’t think she’d remain around long enough to see it.

“You’ll freeze,” said Darius. “It’ll snow soon.” 

She hadn’t noticed him approaching and was startled when he appeared by her side. She managed to compose herself, nodding at him. 

“How do you know?” Miranda asked, looking at the sky.

“It’s in the air. Like a smell. I’ll walk you inside.”

Miranda followed him. He didn’t speak to her, just kept walking with his eyes squarely focused ahead of them. 

“I know you are at the Widow’s Tower. Do you like your room?” he asked, as though he remembered conversation would be a polite gesture.

“Yes, I like it.”

“I didn’t know if it would suit you. I like it there and my guests stay at the Widow’s, but some find it a little chilly. It’s one of the older parts of the castle and the weather seems to get the best of it. It’s a little worn, too.”

“I really like it. I like everything here. It’s all so beautiful.”

“I take it you are enjoying your stay, then?”

“It’s very nice. I always wanted to get away from my home…and they say you’ve got peacocks,” she blurted. 

“Too many sheep, not enough peacocks?”

His voice was deadpan serious and she had trouble knowing how to react. “Among other things.”

“The peacocks make the most horrible shrill screams.”

“I’d still like to see one.”

“In the spring we let them roam around the gardens.”

And now he was smiling, a sliver of a grin creeping upon his face. 

“This conversation is difficult” he said. 

“What do you mean?”

“You are pretty and your eyes are quite remarkable. It would be rude if I stared, so I try not to and talk about nonsense instead. It’s not working.”

She blushed. Miranda was unused to compliments. More often than not what had been hurled at her were insults. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“Don’t be shy. Every time I see you, you are hiding behind Nikolaos or your hair, or Nikolaos and your hair. Like now, you do it already. It’s not becoming.” 

“Habits die hard,” she muttered.

“You’ll need some new habits.”

She liked that idea. 

***

Roses. So many roses around her. Spinning, Miranda laughed as she looked at the crimson petals between her hands. It was a blur of red all around.

She held up a flower. Strangely, the flower shifted and it was no longer a rose. She was holding a ball of fire in her hands.

Miranda let out a loud shriek, dropping it quickly and spun around as the rose bushes burned. Her dress had caught on fire too.

She was burning when she woke up and rushing from her bed, down the stairs and into the chilly night air, she felt her skin smolder like in the dream. 

Miranda closed her eyes. Her heart pounded loudly. For a moment it hurt to breath as she pressed her palms against her temples. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Nikolaos. 

She opened her eyes and he was standing in front of her. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked again and Miranda realized she’d been crying. 

“A nightmare,” she said.

A snowflake lodged in Miranda’s hair and she shivered. More flakes started falling around them as Nikolaos put an arm around her shoulders.

4

Suspended above them a sun of solid gold and a moon made of silver drifted slowly across a jewel encrusted sky. Miranda spun and her reflection whirled in the tall mirrors that filled the walls of the chamber. 

“It’s so beautiful,” she said. 

“I suppose, for someone’s who’s not used to it. To me it’s boring and predictable,” Darius muttered.

“You are arrogant,” she chided. 

“I’m honest,” he corrected her. “Do you like it?”

Miranda looked at the mechanical peacocks and nodded her appreciation. At the same time she felt a little cheated. Everything was a bit artificial in Darius’ life so she should have imagined this would be too. Yet she had believed they would see real, live peacocks. Darius said these were better. 

“It’s all very nice.”

“It’s called the Summer Room. It’s always summer here, even when the weather outside might say the contrary.” 

No windows, only mirrors and painted nature scenes served to maintain the illusion of an eternal season. A large fountain in the center of the chamber was surrounded by tiny mechanical birds that cooed and flapped their wings.

“The King has a similar chamber, only much larger. In it there is an artificial lake with tiny boats. Golden statues of nymphs are placed all around and beautiful women dressed as mermaids play musical instruments.”

“You know him? The King?”

“His eldest son was a friend of mine. When we were children I was his constant playmate at court and in later years we sparred more than once during sword practice.”

Her uncle would have been impressed. He always said Miranda should go to court, that she belonged somewhere else. Fervent letters were sent to her grandfather, begging him to install Miranda in “her proper place”, her uncle’s exact words. Lord Stesh never responded. A position at court might have assured her a good marriage. In Nortre she was doomed to an unworthy alliance. 

“Why aren’t you at court then?”

He did not seem pleased by the question, his eyebrows furrowed, but this was only for a second, and then he relaxed. 

“Because I have been there already and have no need of it. And because you are here instead of there,” Darius said. It was almost chivalrous, except that teasing little smirk of his contradicted his polite words. 

His compliments still tended to catch her by surprise even though she was no stranger to them by now. Darius always speaking of her beauty and her grace and such. In contrast Nikolaos spoke little and never praised her, always courteous without being gallant.  

At the thought of this, Nikolaos and his charming politeness, she smiled.

***

Her life had fallen into a pleasant pattern. She would have breakfast early and then, usually by noon, she would be greeted by Darius or asked to meet with him for a salon, or a walk, or to eat, or anything he could come up with. 

She had discovered Darius was quick tempered, vain, witty, and oddly sweet at times. She liked him because it was hard not to like Darius even if he had a cruel side. 

Nikolaos, the other stable force in her life, could never be cruel. He behaved properly at all times, like a true nobleman. 

She was meeting Nikolaos for dinner that night and as she smoothed her new crimson dress and glanced at her reflection she thought it might be him at the door. 

But then her maid walked in and explained it was a lady Retha and Miranda frowned. 

“Let her in,” she said. 

She didn’t know Retha well enough except to understand she was refined and beautiful and showed little interested in Miranda. 

Retha smiled and kissed Miranda on the cheek as was customary and then the two women sat across from each other, a tiny black table between them. 

***

Miranda clasped her hands tightly as hushed words strained to escape her throat. 

“It is…she said she will tell him about my grandfather. About my parents’ marriage and how lord Stesh disowned my father and does not recognize me as his grandchild. She said I must leave quickly or she will tell him everything.”

Nikolaos merely glanced at the fire burning next to them. “Retha wants Darius for herself. She fears you.”

“I think I ought to fear her, seeing what she plans to say about me. I cannot stay anymore Nikolaos. I must go home before she speaks to him.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I must go,” the girl insisted. 

Nikolaos had observed enough blackmailing and backstabbing to render him immune to petty little threats but she was not used to this. 

“Let her talk then. Your lineage is a little murky, so what?” he said. “Bastard children have wed full-blooded nobles, and you are not a bastard girl. A humble family and lack of dowry never killed anyone.”

“It is not only that. She said she’d also tell him some other things.”

Nikolaos paused, concerned. “What other things?” 

Miranda stared at him. Her eyes were pretty and full of guilt. 

“Stories about my family and…about me.”

“Tell me then.”

“I don’t want to. I just want to go.”

“Tell me,” he pressed on, his voice growing gruff. 

For an instant he thought she would refuse but she started speaking, first just a whisper so that he had to struggle to catch every word. 

“One of my ancestors was Karion, a warrior-lord back in the days when the emperor still ruled. Karion was one of many commanders waging wars in the emperor’s name and in those days their strongest enemies were the Azeians, who controlled the Archipelagos.  

“There was a fortress in the Archiepelagos and it was the home of a wizard-king. The king had acquired the services of a demon which resided in an enchanted mirror. My ancestor laid siege to the magician’s fortress until his men swept in.

“The wizard-king had an only daughter. During the struggle she had locked herself inside her chambers. But it did her no good. Karion and his men broke the door down. 

“He violated the wizard’s daughter and gave her to his men afterwards. He killed the wizard yet spared her life because she would make a pretty slave. But the girl, being the wizard’s daughter, had some knowledge of her father’s magic. When Karion arrived with a golden collar to place around her neck as befit a slave she spoke a curse.

“She invoked the demon in the mirror and swore it would plague his family. Bad luck would befall his children. But the women, she reserved a special punishment for them. Any daughter of his blood would be damned. Every man that attempted to get close to a female of his lineage would be in peril and any man who loved one would die, killed by the demon. 

“Karion executed the woman. He did not believe in curses but in a fit of superstition, he destroyed the wizard’s mirror. No ill luck befell Karion and he amassed riches and lands and in time had two daughters and a son.

“All was well. When his oldest child, his daughter, turned thirteen his luck changed. He fell from the emperor’s favour and felt ill, a lingering malady that wouldn’t leave him. His son was killed by brigands. Debts started to mount.

“He managed to wed his daughter to a young nobleman of a good house. Two months later the groom was dead. Because his daughter was still young and pretty another match was arranged. This second groom died, having lasted less than a season. 

“Rumours of Karion’s curse spread quickly. It is a story that is still told in my town, and it is the reason why no man dared come near me.”

Her story finished, Miranda glanced down. “My father died,” she said. “And then my mother went mad. She would…she would say terrible things about me and she’d hurt me … she tried to burn down our home. I am cursed. It is the truth.”

“You shouldn’t think about morbid wives’ tales,” Nikolaos said.

“It’s the truth. My fiancé died days before our wedding.”

“The drunkard who fell off a horse?” 

“Don’t make fun of me. It is real. The demon knew ... It does wicked things.”

“Aside from murder, can it do some mending? I’ve some shirts that…”

“Don’t joke about it. It could be here. I’m sure it’s here,” she said, pressing a hand against his mouth.

With Miranda so close to him it made thinking of demons rather difficult. As if reaching the same conclusion she drew away.