Violant opened her eyes. The ceiling she saw appeared unbearably nostalgic. To be exact it was the starry canopy of her bed back in Avallach Castle. She hadn’t laid in it since sometime before she had gotten married to Gervase.

With a start she sat up and looked around as much as the dimness allowed her. Yes, it was her old chamber. The bed, the wardrobe, the desk, the dressing table, the shelf with her favorite books. Everything was exactly as she remembered.

The warm light of early morning gently fell through the gap of the curtains. Judging from its brightness it shouldn’t be long before the servants would come to wake her.

When she became aware that she really had gone back in time, Violant couldn’t help but laughing out loudly full of joy and relief. This time she would make sure to correct her past mistakes, albeit they happened in the future.

There was no doubt that Violant was back in the margravial house. The margraves still were far from being history. Their rank was the same as that of a marquis, one rank beneath a duke and two beneath the king, but contrarily to the marquisates whose territories were identical with the marches at the borders, the margraviate of Avallach was situated deep inside the kingdom and had a territory that was even smaller than some counties. Nonetheless the margraves had their own frontier to keep watch over which was seen as such important that the position even warranted its own unique title. De facto the other march spread through the whole kingdom was also assigned to the margrave as part of his fief since the otherworldly realm was nearly inaccessible for most people and thus useless for the kingdom’s feudal lords. This was also true for the king who had easy going enfeoffing a territory that was his only in name all the while committing his vassal thus enfeoffed to deal with all otherworldly incidents throughout the kingdom. The margravial house had a bloodline with special affinity to the otherworld after all for better or for worse. Thus the margraviate also became a melting pot for all kinds of otherworldly inhabitants.

When the door opened, three servants came in. They were surprised to find the young lady already awake, for they had normally extreme difficulties to wake her up after all.

“Milady, you are awake. I wish you a splendid morning.” spoke Malford who looked no different than he had on the day of Violant’s execution. Only except for the fact that no part of him was in disorder even to the slightest degree.

Behind him there followed the young lady’s two maids. One of them was a dumpy, by no means slender woman with curly hazel hair, small brown eyes and a freckled roundly face. Her name was Abigail, a common human woman. The other woman, although a maid, was clad in a dress of white rustling silk, the traditional garments of a silky. She was called Millicent and was a tall but delicate person with a whitish complexion and long silvery-blonde hair. Her blue eyes had a somewhat milky white hue.

Seeing all of her servants alive and well, Violant felt her tears coming. She repressed them nonetheless because the persons of the past couldn’t remotely imagine what kind of future she had to live through. For them it was just a normal day like any other. Although, the young lady didn’t quite know what day it was exactly.

“Good morning Malford, Millicent, Abigail.” Violant greeted, her voice somewhat stifled from tears. The servants, however, ascribed it to her usual tiredness in the morning. “What day do we have today?” she asked.

“Wednesday, 21st June in the 34th year of King Baldwin’s reign, Milady.” Malford replied.

With surprise the returnee found out that she had gone back twelve years into the past. That meant she was still fourteen years old, almost fifteen, and would meet Gervase for the first time in little more than a year.

“Thank you, Malford.” she said.

Then she allowed her servants to do their tasks. Malford opened the curtains and left the room immediately afterwards just to standby on the other side of the door. Millicent and Abigail then helped their mistress to wash and dress up. Afterwards the vampire came in again and told the young lady about her schedule. As a member of the margrave’s family, Violant had to learn a plethora of lessons oriented to impart knowledge regarding fief management, noble society and specifics of the other march: etiquette, dancing, music, poetry, embroidery, history, accounting, law, magic, otherworld lessons, riding, even fencing and other martial arts were part of her daily curriculum spanning from the morning until deep in the night. The first appointment of the day was breakfast with her family though.

After Violant had checked her appearance in the vanity mirror – she really had become younger, her not too fair but not too tanned face still showing some baby fat, her slightly curly fire red hair not as long as it once would be, her height lower than in later years, only the silver eyes the same no matter the year – she made her way to the dining hall where she would meet her uncle, who was the widowed margrave, and his two sons. She saw them as her father and her brothers though since she was raised as their daughter and younger sister respectively after she had lost her mother when she was still a baby. Nobody spoke about her biological father although she had no doubt that at least the margrave knew the truth about who had impregnated his sister.

Violant’s family was already seated when she arrived. They sat close together at one end of a long oaken dining table, showing the closeness the family members of the margravial house enjoyed. The girl would join them there too.

“Good morning father, brothers.” she greeted.

“Good morning Violant.” replied Orderic of Avallach, her uncle and foster father. He was a somewhat corpulent man well over fifty, with a small mustache and goatee as well as a receding hairline as red as the hair of all Avallachs. His eyes were green, typical for Avallachs too. He was a generally good-natured but nonetheless competent feudal lord strict with the details who could travel through the kingdom with a high speed in spite of his figure.

“Morning Vi!” shouted Parcie, the older brother. He was a tall and brawny broad-shouldered fellow who preferably spent his whole day outside, his broadsword on his back.

“Good morning, dear sister.” responded Mortimer. The younger brother was the intellectual in the family who spent most of his time in the study. His lanky build showed that he had no real physical abilities. Although he was younger it was decided that Mortimer should inherit the fief. That was quite all right with Parcie who avoided any kind of paperwork like the pest. Both brothers were still unwed by the way.

The young lady sat down at the table with her family members. She partook in the meal silently as etiquette demanded.

When the meal was almost finished Orderic raised his voice.

“I plan to inspect the marketplace tomorrow.” he declared.

Avallach was one of the kingdom’s most important trading hubs because only there humans could procure products of otherworldly craft and art. Conversely it was the only place where inhabitants of the other march could trade normally with humans.

“As such you will accompany me, Violant.”

“Oh, really!” his foster daughter exclaimed joyfully. Inspecting the marketplace meant no lessons after all. Violant had disliked her overfull curriculum in her past life already. Today, however, nothing would save her from learning facts and abilities all day long she already had been taught before her return.

Well, if she went about it smartly she possibly could reduce the amount of further lessons quite significantly. It wasn’t as if Violant hadn’t been intelligent – even Mortimer was in awe about her impressive memory and she also had the corresponding cognitive abilities – but that the somewhat tomboyish girl had no fun in learning theoretical matters. Outdoor activities were more to her liking. But as long as she could prove sufficient knowledge in her theoretical lessons without arising suspicions she could try to finish the unloved part of her curriculum earlier. The classes involving physical activities were a must for her to regain the abilities she had had in the future before her imprisonment but she favored this kind of lessons anyway. Except for dancing at least but there was nothing she could do about it.

After a long day of lessons Violant sunk down onto her bed. She was dead tired but there was something she had to think about. Now that she was given the chance of a new start it would be a waste not to use it. As such she definitely had to stay clear of Gervase. But even if she did, it didn’t mean that he would show no interest in the margraves and their territories including the other march. More likely he would still plot to get the margravial territories and possessions. Thus she could only look for backing from other royals. Not through marriage though. After the betrayal she had experienced she wasn’t willing in the least to love again and if she ever would be able to again, only time would show. She desired no marital connection to the royal dynasty but a royal backer nonetheless. But who of King Baldwin’s nine sons was the right choice?

Definitely not Gervase, the third son.

Second son Edric was none the better, albeit for other reasons. The scholarly Edric had renounced his claim to the throne early on and had confined himself to a remote monastery where he had indulged himself in his research before the whole monastery was wiped from existence by an outbreak of the plague the prince also succumbed to. At this point of time the renouncement hadn’t yet happened though.

The fourth and fifth princes, the twins Hal and Jarm, also were the wrong pick, for both vied for the throne and hired assassins to eliminate the respective other twin leading two the deaths of both in the same night. That too was still a matter of the future but in Violant’s mind the boat had already sailed.

Two other princes had already left the living: The first prince Rowland had fallen on the battlefield two years ago while the ninth Prince had died four years ago shortly after birth, resulting in the loss of two lives, for his mother, a royal concubine, also succumbed to blood loss. While the first prince might have been a possible backer for Violant if still alive, the nameless ninth prince would have been an infant anyway, but those were pointless thoughts.

Thus the returnee could only choose between the sixth and seventh sons Humphrey and Fulk. Both had regal ambitions and were comparatively reasonable fellows. They both had fallen under Violant’s own hands on the battlefield when they had allied to eliminate Gervase, at that time the only other remaining prince they both regarded as their biggest obstacle.

Oh wait! There still was an eighth prince. Violant had to think quite a while before she remembered about him. Wynkin was the youngest among the siblings when excluding the stillborn. The eldest was in fact the king’s only daughter, the current chief minister’s wife Mabel who had the same mother as the eighth, Queen Berengaria herself. Mother and daughter doted heavily on the boy who was a sickly child. He died young, although his bad health wasn’t the reason. Wynkin developed symptoms of the berserk syndrome and thus had to be put to death. The berserk syndrome was a much feared illness of unknown, nonhereditary origin that appeared in boys at any point of puberty. It led to sudden growth spurts massively increasing height and muscle mass all the while accompanied by loss of reason. The further the illness progressed, the less often the affected person was able to stay sane until they lost all reason forever. Since full-grown berserks were manifold stronger than even the kingdom’s best warriors, literally invulnerable against all kinds of harm, and killed and raped indiscriminately, it was the rule to kill them as soon as the first symptoms manifested. Even the royal family couldn’t do anything against this. If Violant remembered correctly this event should happen in the spring of next year, thus before she arrived for her social debut in the capital where she would meet the royal family for the first time.

She still had about a year time to choose the right backer, so the returnee went to sleep right after narrowing down her choices.