Great bells chimed melodically, faintly audible through the open balcony which let in the sea air. Isabella opened her eyes, looking toward the origin of the pleasant noise. Once more, she heard the royal bells welcoming a new monarch. For the first time, she heard them in Duke Valerio’s estate. While a room was being prepared for her, she had stayed for perhaps the last night in Valerio’s room.

  Isabella sat up and removed her blanket feeling well-rested. Prince Claude’s coronation would be today. She and Duke Valerio would be expected to attend. She got to her feet, walking to the balcony where the sea air gently wafted through. The crisp winter morning gave her chills, but the sight of everything was worth it. Valerio’s estate was one of a few others on the coast, and was undisturbed by other sights marring the beach except for the frequent passing of ships.

  Set sat there for some time—perhaps ten minutes, simply quietly basking in the ambience, before a knock echoed behind her. She turned her head. From behind the door, she heard a muffled voice ask, “It’s Valerio. May I come in?”

  “Yes,” she answered, leaning her back up against the railing of the balcony. She was spirited, and eager to tackle the day.

  The Duke of the Isles walked through the door, looking around briefly before finding her. He walked up to her with a cup and saucer in hand, and gave it off to her. “Here,” he said. “It’s coffee, but it’s different than the last. Try it,” he insisted.

  Isabella was going to decline, but looking at his face, she saw a hopefulness she didn’t dare refuse. She took it off his hands and gave it a sip. Pleasantly warm but not scalding, it did taste different than the day before. Almost… fruity, and fermented. It warded away the chill. But…

  “I’m afraid it’s still not to my taste,” she said politely.

  “A shame.” Valerio took it from her hands, then sipped at it himself. Such an act would be considered indecent in Dovhain’s high society, but Isabella didn’t care especially. His black eyes focused on her. “I really want to find a coffee you enjoy.”

  Isabella tilted her head, curious. “Why?”

  “It’s like helping two beloved friends meet,” Valerio said, then leaned on the railing with her with the cup in his hand. “Your mentor, Igraine, has everything prepared for today. I’ve given her a room to set up the ritual. She says that she wants to do it after you return from your outing with Abigail.”

  Isabella took a deep breath of excitement, then looked at him. “Does it… bother you?”

  “Her being here?” Valerio shook his head. “Not much. At least she asked. I’ve had mages do worse things to me. The fireball wasn’t particularly fun.”

  “Not Igraine,” Isabella said. “Does it bother you that I’m learning magic?”

  Valerio laughed. “Bother me? It’s reassuring.”

  Isabella looked at him with wide eyes, surprised.

  Valerio chuckled at the look on her face. “I’ve been everywhere, Isabella. Traditional Dovhain mentalities don’t exist in my head.” He hopped up onto the railing. “In Rahul’s country, matrilineal succession is the norm. They believe that only through the female line can the purity of the bloodline be guaranteed. Whether they cheat or not, it’s the woman that carries the child, after all. That can’t be faked.”

  Isabella blinked thoughtfully. “I… suppose there is some truth in that.” She thought some more, then looked at him. “Do you have children?”

  Valerio was mid-drink, and sputtered on his coffee before looking at her incredulously. “What?!”

  “Judging by your extreme reaction, it must be so,” Isabella said dryly.

  Valerio sat with mouth agape, then started laughing. “Are you playing around?”

  “A little,” she admitted. “But I do want to know. You’re a pirate, you’re a man, and you’re a noble. I won’t hold it against you, but I would like to know.”

  “I don’t have any children,” Valerio said firmly, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Even amongst the Ithilian?” she pressed. “You said yourself you’re very well-regarded there.”

  “If I had a child, they would be here,” Valerio pointed down. “I’d introduce you to them proudly.”

  “Hmm,” Isabella grunted, then looked off to the ocean. “Do you have any other family?”

  “My mother is amongst the Ithilian, where she’s teaching them much as she taught me,” Valerio said. “I had brothers, but they all passed away.”

  “Were you close with them?” Isabella asked.

  “Yes and no,” Valerio said. “Some died before I could get close. My older brothers didn’t especially like me. My mother is… a character,” he said deliberately. “But she’s still my favorite mother.”

  “By default?” She asked, and when Valerio smiled she laughed.

  Isabella looked out across the ocean, finally feeling the chill too strongly to stand out here longer. She walked back inside the bedroom and shut the doors.

  “We should get ready for the coronation,” she told him.

  ***

  Isabella watched Archbishop Pius lower the crown onto Claude’s brow, and heeded the declaration of the royal crier to kneel before the king. The coronation had gone very similarly to her first life. She remembered it well, even though she’d been quite distraught at the time. Edgar II had died in a rather gruesome way in this life, his head found jammed in the toilet so fiercely his face was said to be unrecognizable. In her former, he’d merely been poisoned.

  “All rise,” King Claude I commanded, calling out to the assembled. He stood up off of his throne and descended down the stairs, until he stood at equal level to all of the assembled. “I will receive your fealty here.”

  A coronation was an event couched in symbolism. By coming down to stand on their level, Claude meant to indicate that he didn’t intend on standing above his vassals—that he was merely the first among equals. Isabella thought it was a terrible precedent to set, but it was highly representative of Claude’s reign.

  In all honestly, Isabella didn’t think Claude was a terrible person. He wanted to be a force for good—as much had been proven when he tried to fight back against what the nobles did once they’d wrested power from him. The nobility advocated for the strengthening of their privileges, primarily the laws of serfdom.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  During Claude’s reign, the nobles were allowed to transition to a model of absolute serfdom. Three major reforms were made in her last life. Firstly, a serf fleeing from land was reclassified as a crime. Secondly, serfs could be traded between nobles, and thirdly, they lost all right to ownership of land or objects. These reforms were eventually revoked not for human decency, but because it proved to be economically disastrous for most involved. All it achieved was worsening harvests and costing a fortune in catching those fleeing their lands.

  Archduke Felix, while not a direct proponent, had encouraged this reform. He’d absorbed tremendous populations into his domains in the north because he voluntarily chose not to impose strict serfdom. It was emblematic of his skill at governance to predict such an outcome, and the ruthlessness necessary to go through with such reforms. She didn’t approve of his methods, but she couldn’t deny the results. Claude’s reign had made Archduke Felix ascendant.

  “My reign will not be marked with terror, or callous disregard for all those who serve the crown,” Claude began. “Those who serve the realm as councilors will no longer have their positions revoked arbitrarily. Those who serve the realm as nobles will no longer face punishment without trial from a jury of their peers. The crown will rule over all justly… and justice must be born of consensus,” the new king said decisively.

  Claude wasn’t a tyrant. But he was about to empower many.

  ***

  “Randolph,” Isabella said, walking up to her condottiere as many of the palace workers moved behind her. They were relocating all of the things within her quarters in the royal palace to Valerio’s estate. Most importantly… she’d been granted access to her gold. “Here. I apologize for being so late with it.”

  Isabella held out a bag of gold coins. Randolph took it, untied the string, and peered within. When he saw what it was, he closed the bag quickly and took a deep breath.

  “Do they not teach you math in the bloody palace? This must be… near a hundred,” he said, looking around as if someone might swoop by and steal it at any moment. “Far too much.”

  “Consider it interest for being late,” she said. “And a thank you for expanding my vocabulary, alongside a request.”

  “An assassination?” he guessed. “Oh, yes. Smart. They’d assume my fat feet hitting the ground in the dead of night would be that of a pig, allowing me to sneak up on them undetected.”

  “I’d like you to serve as my personal knight permanently, taking residence in Valerio’s estate,” Isabella said, brushing past his brash remark with a smile on her face. “I’ve already discussed it with Valerio. He was receptive. He thinks highly of your skills.”

  Randolph looked at the bag of gold seriously, then at her. “Half of the people in that estate make me uncomfortable,” he said. “Solomon could make a bigger ass of me than a drunk donkey. Frankly, after I’ve seen the lengths Valerio’s gone through on your behalf… you’d be safe with him.”

  “But I trust you,” Isabella said simply.

  He framed his blocky head with one hand. “Does this mug scream trustworthy?”

  “No,” she said honestly. “But what you’ve done has. You’ve gone above and beyond.”

  Randolph looked to the side, and then back. He held up the bag. “Only because I knew you couldn’t count properly. But… fine, very well. I’ll do ask you ask, though I’m not pleased about sleeping in the dragon’s den.”

  Isabella smiled. “Still, don’t deregister as a condottiere just yet. I think I’ve worked out how Cesare fits into my plans.”

  “Cesare?” Randolph laughed. “You know those men your fiancé left bleeding on the streets? They worked for Cesare, I found out.”

  Isabella blinked in surprise. “Are you certain?”

  “You should’ve seen the bastard,” Randolph continued. “Drinking at breakfast. Would’ve made a wonderful painting in that style you like. I can think of a name for it now: The Childe of the Chalice. Maybe The Lush of the Larder. Made my bloody week. He deserves it all, the cun—” he trailed off, then cleared his throat. “Forgive me. Almost used a word from my more… advanced lexicon. I’ll save that for when you’re older.”

  Isabella laughed quietly. “Let’s get you settled in Valerio’s estate. Then, I have to go meet a friend.”

  ***

  Isabella rode in the carriage, thinking fondly about the fact that she would attempt to form a mana lock for the first time in her life later today. Now, however, she needed to visit with Abigail. She turned to look at Valerio, who also sat with her in the carriage. He was accompanying her for this, but he had somewhere else to go today. To be frank, she had no idea what his day involved. Ordinarily she’d wonder in silence, but she felt their relationship was improving.

  “What does your schedule generally look like?” she asked.

  “My schedule?” Valerio turned to her. “Hmm. It’s quite… idyllic, aside from the managing of businesses. That occupies much of my time, but I like to take care of that at nights. In the day, I scout for things or people that I might send back to Roderick’s people. They’re usually quite a bit more… low-key, let’s say, than you. Stonemasons. Scholars. Metalworkers. Prospectors. I could go on, but I think you get the picture. I send knowledge and talent to Roderick’s people, fulfilling their expectations of me.”

  Isabella nodded, supposing that was reasonable. “Would you be willing to back me on a joint venture with Archduke Felix?”

  Valerio straightened his posture. “You pulled that question out of nowhere, huh?”

  “I’ve been thinking about things. And I know… Duke Albert won’t leave me be,” Isabella said with certainty. “To take him out of the picture permanently, we need to curb his influence. That starts with dealing the finishing blow to his auction house. Originally, I was intending to be a minor partner… but with your support, I think that we could establish a joint venture with Felix instead.” She put a hand to her heart. “I can take full responsibility for its outcome.”

  Isabella waited for his response nervously. He’d promised to trust her and pursue some opportunities that she offered. Now it was time to test that sincerity.

  “You don’t need to take full responsibility,” Valerio disagreed. “I’ll invest because I believe in your ability. If I’m wrong, I’ll suffer the consequences. Besides, you’ve already proven yourself somewhat. I was at that party, lest you forget.”

  “…and I suppose I don’t have much to pay you back with.” Isabella looked down, feeling a bit foolish. “I’m sorry to impose upon you with this. But… the day that Duke Albert falls… it’ll be a tremendous relief.”

  Valerio reached for his dagger, but Isabella saw him catch himself doing so and instead brush his coat off. “Do you know why the duke is so obsessed with you?” he asked.

  Isabella looked out of the window, having difficulty meeting his gaze when he asked that question.

  “I have some guesses,” she said quietly. “He’s always been a large figure in my life, even since I was young. Always… vaguely present. And I think his intentions were the same, whether I was eight or eighteen.” She looked back.

  Valerio’s face took on a mask of wrath that she’d never seen before. It felt like the air in the carriage went cold. “Eight?” He repeated, voice low. “What did he do to you?”

  “You’re misunderstanding,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not even sure his obsession is even romantic. I have it on good authority he’s been impotent for a while, in fact. It was about… ownership, I think. Degradation. Corruption.” She exhaled shakily. “As for why me… I couldn’t tell you. But I wish I didn’t have it, whatever he wants.”

  Valerio’s rage didn’t vanish, but he did seem to gain control of it. “I’m sorry if I brought up unpleasant memories,” he said quietly.

  “No,” Isabella said. “I need to move beyond it at some point. If I shelve it away, it’ll always bother me. It’s like leaving a wound untreated.”

  The carriage came to a halt, and then Randolph opened the door. Beyond was the archduke’s estate.

  “Oh,” Isabella said in surprise, gathering her things. “I’ll bring up the joint venture with the archduke, if I can. And… please let Igraine know I’ll return as soon as possible.”

  Valerio nodded. “I will. Good luck.”

  Isabella alighted from the carriage, and gave one last smile at Valerio before the carriage door was shut behind him. After, she looked at Randolph.

  “I would advise being quiet in the archduke’s estate,” Isabella told him, walking toward the gate. “The archduke… if you disrespect his daughter, I don’t think he’ll hesitate to have you gelded, no matter who you serve.”

  “Noted,” Randolph said. “I yet have need of my soldiers. My lips are sealed.”