April 23rd, 1614
Despite his protests, Leandro had survived the sea journey from Cicilia to Pasan's narrow stretch of coastline, disembarking at Alorine, the main port city. He wasn't the only one relieved to be back on dry land - after just a few hours off the moving ship, Valeria had recovered herself almost completely, and by the time they took to the road to travel inland, Adelina's companion was herself again. Despite the dignity of her station, Adelina herself had enjoyed the first few hours of the carriage journey as they passed through the city and out into the countryside, leaning out of the window with curious eyes. She had never seen wide open fields, whether they were cultivated or not, nor a land where water was tamed into its own rivers and streams, drawn down irrigation channels and used to turn mill wheels.
Unfortunately, however, it seemed that travel by land agreed with her the same way travel by sea had agreed with her companions. She made a valiant effort, of course, but by mid-afternoon, the unsteady rocking of the carriage had left her pale and sweating, unable to focus on anything much. It was not too much later that an urgent knock came on the carriage roof, and before the driver had managed to stop entirely, the door flew open to disgorge the Duchess of Elan, who stumbled off the road, dropped to her knees, and proceeded to noisily empty her stomach.
Leandro was relieved to be back on dry land again, in high spirits now that the sea voyage was over, filled with eager anticipation to present his new bride and duchess to the ducal court in Elana. He had been eager to get back on horseback, leaving the carriage to his wife and her maid to travel in relative comfort - or so he thought. He was as surprised as anyone when the carriage came to a full stop and his wife stumbled out to empty the contents of her stomach in full view of their escorts. He was about to ask the driver what the problem was when he spied - or rather heard - his wife retching on the side of the road. He climbed down from his mount without hesitation, concerned rather than amused by her predicament. "My lady, are you ill?" he asked, though that much was obvious enough.
Unlike the Duke, Lady Valeria was amused, and she wasn't making any attempt to hide that fact, holding in her hands a flask of water for when Adelina's stomach stopped turning itself inside out. "It would appear, your grace, that her grace is not at home with traveling on land," she offered to Leandro through her faint smirk. In the long grass that lined the road, Adelina groaned unhappily, catching her breath before she retched once again.
Leandro frowned worriedly at this bit of news. The land journey was going to take far longer than that of the sea voyage. He'd never known anyone to become ill traveling by carriage, but he supposed it was for much the same reason that he'd become ill traveling by ship. He knew it mostly had to do with the motion, but unless she walked the entire way, there wasn't much he could do about that. "Perhaps it's not the land, but the carriage that is to blame," he remarked thoughtfully. "May I have a handkerchief?" he asked, opening one hand expectantly.
"Of course, your grace." Valeria gave him her own handkerchief without a second thought, grateful that he seemed inclined to tend to his wife rather than leave it to the lady who was her companion. She offered him the water flask as well, her eyes flickering to the finally still young woman kneeling in the grass.
He took the handkerchief and water flask from her, leaning in and dropping his voice to a whisper for Valeria's ears alone. "Do try not to laugh," he warned. Though Adelina had initially laughed at them, she had also taken pity on them and cared enough to tend to them over the two days it had taken to cross the sea. That said, he started toward the young woman, hoping there was something he could do to ease her suffering. "Principessa," he started, as he crouched down beside her. Though she had lost that title in favor of another, he had fallen into the habit of addressing her that way. "Acqua," he told her, offering her the flask.
To say that Adelina was unhappy was to neglect a wonderful opportunity to use the word miserable. Shaking from the eruption that had emptied her stomach, she was very close to tears for disgracing herself and him in front of their attendants, taking the offered flask with a grateful nod. She washed her mouth out, spitting the foul taste from her lips and tongue as she eased away from the mess she had left behind her. "Mi dispiace," she apologized in a tremulous tone, forgetting to use Pasan in her newly acquired misery. "Perdonami?"
He positioned himself so that he was blocking any view of her from their attendants, hopefully saving her from some embarrassment. Once she had washed the bitter taste from her mouth, he leaned in to dab at her mouth with the handkerchief. Though he did not understand all of what she had said, he was able to mostly gather her meaning. "Never mind," he told her. "Non importa. It is ....bumpy, no?" he asked with a sympathetic smile, as he gestured with one hand to mimic a bumpy road.
She swallowed, her lips curving in an attempt at a smile as he wiped her mouth clean, deeply grateful to him for not being angry with her little performance. Her hand rested on his knee as he spoke, green eyes following the movement of his hand as she made sense of what he was saying. "Si," she nodded, clearing her throat before continuing on in her broken Pasan. "No air," she tried to explain, fanning her face with one hand to make it a little clearer. "Is ....closed. Like, like grave."
"Hmm," he mused thoughtfully. "I have a thought, if you will allow me." He reached for her arm to help her to her feet. "It will not be as comfortable as the carriage, but you will not feel so closed in," he explained. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked, wanting to make sure her stomach was no longer troubling her before he suggested a possible solution to their problem.
Still shaken, she held tightly to him as he helped her back onto her feet, glancing over at the party waiting patiently on the road. Her cheeks colored, embarrassed and ashamed of herself for her display. Leandro drew her attention back to him, however. She did not understand everything he said, but she could make a guess at answering his query, at the very least. "I not so sick," she said, laying one hand over her stomach. "Grazie, thank you."
"Would you like to rest for a while?" he asked further, brushing a windblown tendril from her cheek. "Um, riposo?" he asked, hoping he'd remembered the right word. They couldn't tarry too long or they might not make it to the next town before dark, but he wasn't going to force her to continue if she was still feeling ill.
His concern for her was touching, but she was just as stubborn as he was, if not more so. Regardless of her unsettled stomach, she was not prepared to linger any longer than was absolutely necessary, aware that their delay would only cause problems in the noble house where they were expected that evening. "I well," she assured him, her pale face lending the lie but not betraying it entirely. "We go on, now?"
"Si, we go on now," he replied, but instead of escorting her back to the carriage, he called for one of his attendants and waved the man over, explaining something quickly in his native tongue - likely too quickly for her to comprehend, except perhaps for the word caballo, which was very similar to the equivalent in her own language.
Despite his protests, Leandro had survived the sea journey from Cicilia to Pasan's narrow stretch of coastline, disembarking at Alorine, the main port city. He wasn't the only one relieved to be back on dry land - after just a few hours off the moving ship, Valeria had recovered herself almost completely, and by the time they took to the road to travel inland, Adelina's companion was herself again. Despite the dignity of her station, Adelina herself had enjoyed the first few hours of the carriage journey as they passed through the city and out into the countryside, leaning out of the window with curious eyes. She had never seen wide open fields, whether they were cultivated or not, nor a land where water was tamed into its own rivers and streams, drawn down irrigation channels and used to turn mill wheels.
Unfortunately, however, it seemed that travel by land agreed with her the same way travel by sea had agreed with her companions. She made a valiant effort, of course, but by mid-afternoon, the unsteady rocking of the carriage had left her pale and sweating, unable to focus on anything much. It was not too much later that an urgent knock came on the carriage roof, and before the driver had managed to stop entirely, the door flew open to disgorge the Duchess of Elan, who stumbled off the road, dropped to her knees, and proceeded to noisily empty her stomach.
Leandro was relieved to be back on dry land again, in high spirits now that the sea voyage was over, filled with eager anticipation to present his new bride and duchess to the ducal court in Elana. He had been eager to get back on horseback, leaving the carriage to his wife and her maid to travel in relative comfort - or so he thought. He was as surprised as anyone when the carriage came to a full stop and his wife stumbled out to empty the contents of her stomach in full view of their escorts. He was about to ask the driver what the problem was when he spied - or rather heard - his wife retching on the side of the road. He climbed down from his mount without hesitation, concerned rather than amused by her predicament. "My lady, are you ill?" he asked, though that much was obvious enough.
Unlike the Duke, Lady Valeria was amused, and she wasn't making any attempt to hide that fact, holding in her hands a flask of water for when Adelina's stomach stopped turning itself inside out. "It would appear, your grace, that her grace is not at home with traveling on land," she offered to Leandro through her faint smirk. In the long grass that lined the road, Adelina groaned unhappily, catching her breath before she retched once again.
Leandro frowned worriedly at this bit of news. The land journey was going to take far longer than that of the sea voyage. He'd never known anyone to become ill traveling by carriage, but he supposed it was for much the same reason that he'd become ill traveling by ship. He knew it mostly had to do with the motion, but unless she walked the entire way, there wasn't much he could do about that. "Perhaps it's not the land, but the carriage that is to blame," he remarked thoughtfully. "May I have a handkerchief?" he asked, opening one hand expectantly.
"Of course, your grace." Valeria gave him her own handkerchief without a second thought, grateful that he seemed inclined to tend to his wife rather than leave it to the lady who was her companion. She offered him the water flask as well, her eyes flickering to the finally still young woman kneeling in the grass.
He took the handkerchief and water flask from her, leaning in and dropping his voice to a whisper for Valeria's ears alone. "Do try not to laugh," he warned. Though Adelina had initially laughed at them, she had also taken pity on them and cared enough to tend to them over the two days it had taken to cross the sea. That said, he started toward the young woman, hoping there was something he could do to ease her suffering. "Principessa," he started, as he crouched down beside her. Though she had lost that title in favor of another, he had fallen into the habit of addressing her that way. "Acqua," he told her, offering her the flask.
To say that Adelina was unhappy was to neglect a wonderful opportunity to use the word miserable. Shaking from the eruption that had emptied her stomach, she was very close to tears for disgracing herself and him in front of their attendants, taking the offered flask with a grateful nod. She washed her mouth out, spitting the foul taste from her lips and tongue as she eased away from the mess she had left behind her. "Mi dispiace," she apologized in a tremulous tone, forgetting to use Pasan in her newly acquired misery. "Perdonami?"
He positioned himself so that he was blocking any view of her from their attendants, hopefully saving her from some embarrassment. Once she had washed the bitter taste from her mouth, he leaned in to dab at her mouth with the handkerchief. Though he did not understand all of what she had said, he was able to mostly gather her meaning. "Never mind," he told her. "Non importa. It is ....bumpy, no?" he asked with a sympathetic smile, as he gestured with one hand to mimic a bumpy road.
She swallowed, her lips curving in an attempt at a smile as he wiped her mouth clean, deeply grateful to him for not being angry with her little performance. Her hand rested on his knee as he spoke, green eyes following the movement of his hand as she made sense of what he was saying. "Si," she nodded, clearing her throat before continuing on in her broken Pasan. "No air," she tried to explain, fanning her face with one hand to make it a little clearer. "Is ....closed. Like, like grave."
"Hmm," he mused thoughtfully. "I have a thought, if you will allow me." He reached for her arm to help her to her feet. "It will not be as comfortable as the carriage, but you will not feel so closed in," he explained. "Are you feeling better now?" he asked, wanting to make sure her stomach was no longer troubling her before he suggested a possible solution to their problem.
Still shaken, she held tightly to him as he helped her back onto her feet, glancing over at the party waiting patiently on the road. Her cheeks colored, embarrassed and ashamed of herself for her display. Leandro drew her attention back to him, however. She did not understand everything he said, but she could make a guess at answering his query, at the very least. "I not so sick," she said, laying one hand over her stomach. "Grazie, thank you."
"Would you like to rest for a while?" he asked further, brushing a windblown tendril from her cheek. "Um, riposo?" he asked, hoping he'd remembered the right word. They couldn't tarry too long or they might not make it to the next town before dark, but he wasn't going to force her to continue if she was still feeling ill.
His concern for her was touching, but she was just as stubborn as he was, if not more so. Regardless of her unsettled stomach, she was not prepared to linger any longer than was absolutely necessary, aware that their delay would only cause problems in the noble house where they were expected that evening. "I well," she assured him, her pale face lending the lie but not betraying it entirely. "We go on, now?"
"Si, we go on now," he replied, but instead of escorting her back to the carriage, he called for one of his attendants and waved the man over, explaining something quickly in his native tongue - likely too quickly for her to comprehend, except perhaps for the word caballo, which was very similar to the equivalent in her own language.