This is Book 4 of [Stolen] Series
2015...
All her life, Myra Farrow has been obsessed with medieval castle, and the kings and princes who once inhabited them. When Steve Bernard, a wealthy videogame designer, offers her to model for a princess chara...
"A toast to Lady Elizabeth," James announced, raising his goblet. I hadn't had a chance to ask him why he sent me that message yesterday.
We were sitting at the royal table, the seat of the King waiting for his return, but no one seemed to miss King Stefan, and it was exceptionally calm without him.
When we headed back to the chamber after our library excursion in the afternoon, Emma was already awake and busy sketching the lake and the forest on a sheet of paper. Edward had watched her proudly, and though he did not give his opinion, I was able to read in his eyes how happy he was to win her back. Emma didn't throw any tantrum over my absence. Instead, she proudly showed me her sketch and told me that she actually didn't sleep much. She was already awake when I left the chamber for the library, but she had behaved like a brave girl and spent time alone in Edward's room, killing time by drawing sheet after sheet, and waiting patiently for my return. I was so proud of her. I asked her to come down with us for dinner, but she refused, and asked me to feed her early so she could go to bed.
Right now, she was asleep on Edward's bed, and I was surrounded by Edward, the King's Council, and Elizabeth and James accompanying us.
"Your Grace," addressed a man to Edward, who sat opposite me and next to Elizabeth.
"Lord Victor," acknowledged Edward.
"I would like to inform you that on behalf of His Majesty's Venetian ball, the Medici have received the invitation and have sent their best wishes."
"The Medici?" I interjected, my jaw dropping at the name. Good Lord! Were they talking about The Medici from Florence?
Ha! Who was I kidding? I kept forgetting that I was sitting at the royal table, and that the future King of England was my lover.
All eyes darted towards me. Edward glared because supposedly the women at the table should behave by not interrupting.
"Yes, Lady Farrow, the Medici," answered Lord Victor.
I still couldn't keep my mouth shut. "The Medici from Florence?"
Did I sound like a sneaky fan of some Hollywood celebrity who had promised to make an appearance at the Venetian Ball?
"Indeed," replied Edward, throwing an icy glare at me.
"Oh, heavens!" I sipped my wine as I sat back. "Who will be attending from their side?" I ignored Edward, but instead I directed my gaze at Lord Victor, who appeared safer to look at than Prince Arse of Stubbornness.
"Guiviano de' Medici wishes to send his son, my lady," answered Lord Victor.
"Cosimo?" I asked as if he were my ex-boyfriend. "Is Cosimo coming?"
"You know him?" Edward interrupted.
"Umm," I pursed my lips.
What was I to say in front of the Lords of the King's Council? That I had read about the Medici family in the twenty-first century, who, despite being nobles and not royals, managed to rule over Florence for many years? Who managed to get a hold of papal accounts and run a monopoly of the banking system in all of Europe with their smart minds. And who—were credited as the ones that brought Florence into the Renaissance era, since they were lovers of art. If they hadn't promoted Donatello, Michelangelo, Leonardo, Botticelli, and other Renaissance artists, what would have happened to them? How would our world have been without the glory of their art? If I said I wasn't indebted to them as an art lover, I was undoubtedly lying. "I heard they admire art."
"Indeed, Lady Farrow," replied Lord Victor. "In fact, they wanted to know if they could bring an artist with them." I wanted to know who they intended to bring. Botticelli, Michelangelo, and Da Vinci indeed weren't here at this time, but who would accompany him? Brunelleschi, the man who designed the dome of Duomo?
I tried to refresh my history class, but I couldn't really think of any artists of this time. And I didn't remember reading about the Medici travelling to England, either.
You keep forgetting: all of this happening right now has not happened at all. It is not recorded history. I put on a smug smile. I love it!
"They are welcome to bring a guest," Edward answered, taking a sip of wine from his goblet.
Lord Victor looked towards Edward. "They also want to know if the Doge of Venice is coming."
"We are not involved in their politics, Lord Victor," Edward grumbled.
"They do have a bone of contention, do they not?" I interjected again. All eyes darted towards me...again. I gulped at Edward throwing daggers at me. "I mean the Doge and the Medici," I mumbled.
"I have never seen a woman giving any political opinion," commented Sir Phillip Concord, whom I almost forgot was here, sitting on the other side of Lord Victor. How could I forget the man who made Edward hate himself?
"Lady Farrow is a woman of fine intellect," Edward chided, completely displeased by the presence of his molester. "That is why the King offered her the position as royal tutor—to teach our younger subjects." I looked proudly at Edward. I had never seen him shut Concord's mouth ever before in his book.
"To Lady Farrow," Lord Victor raised his glass. The rest of the patrons chimed in, raising a toast in my honour.
When the guests departed, I didn't head back to the chamber, as I knew if Edward and I talked, we'd disturb Emma. Instead, I took refuge in the solace of the night and sat on the steps. The stone, dark and smooth, shone like the skeleton of a huge reptile. Edward told me he might take some time to join me, as he had some state matters to resolve.
Tagging along with me all day in the library, he didn't get a chance to run any of his chores and business the King might have given him. I'd have to ask him to let me visit the library alone so he could function as Prince Regent. Besides, he had to secretly get Elizabeth's lover in the castle. Edward had not told me about how he would arrange for those two to meet and elope, but I was sure that he must have planned something good for them.
I recalled Jasmine's book, wondering if she and her advisor were, indeed, doctors. By listening to their conversation, it felt like watching Grey's Anatomy set in the Middle Ages. Did she truly heal King Audrey with her power, or did she heal him with medical science? If King Audrey suffered from leprosy, which was called Hansen's disease in my time, and if Jasmine was bringing medicine from the twenty-first century to her time, then it could have easily been cured by antibiotics. Just like the Duchess of Dover, she might have run some tests on his skin and discussed it with other doctors.
Good Lord! No wonder people called her a mage. I wonder if she was an oncologist or specialised in another field. I was very curious to read more about her.
The night air chilled, making goosebumps rise all across my body. I had forgotten to bring a cloak before coming here because I put on the corset under my pale green dress before attending dinner, so I didn't bother going upstairs to fetch it. Before I could think of warming myself, a warm woollen cloak was wrapped around my shoulders, followed by the warm embrace of the man I loved most in this world.
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