Paul Thompson - Dargonesti

Her finely sculpted features were expressionless. Lavender eyes, surrounded by thick silver lashes, regarded the Speaker of the Stars steadily, unblinking. Without a word, she let the mask drop from her fingers and put up her hands to take the tortoiseshell combs from her hair. Released, it fell in a thick, shimmering mass down to her knees. Sunlight, refracted by the jewels encrusting the Tower walls, sent rainbows dancing in the silver tresses. Speaker Elendar didn’t appear to notice that he had risen to his feet.

Uriona bowed her head, lifting a hand to her hair once more, as though ashamed of the display she was making. The webbing between her fingers appeared nearly transparent.

“Lady.” The Speaker cleared his throat and tried again. “Your pardon, lady, for any rudeness,” he murmured.

“As my conqueror, you have the right,” she said.

Beside her, Vixa heard Gundabyr sigh. Even the tough dwarf appeared affected by the loveliness of Uriona. The Qualinesti princess was not. She found herself trying to decipher the expression on the queen’s face. Was it contrition? Embarrassment? She doubted that Uriona was capable of either.

The Speaker sat down heavily, the pain of his injured side suddenly reminding him that rash movement was better avoided for now.

“The audience is at an end,” he announced, wincing. “Depart, all of you.”

Everyone bowed and began to file out. Samcadaris inquired, “Sire? What of the prisoner?”

“Take her-take her to Hermathya’s Tower. See to her comfort and security. See to it personally, Marshal.”

“It shall be done, Great Speaker.”

The priests and priestesses of Silvanost released the river from its magical constraints. The process had to be done carefully. All that night and through the next day, the Thon-Thalas rose slowly, gradually. By evening, the river was well on its way to filling its banks once more.

Vixa sat in her palace room by an open window, watching the river’s return. Bathed, fed, and dressed in clean clothing, she’d stayed by the window for hours. When the day ended, she didn’t rise to light any lamps, but let the growing darkness fill the room.

The first stars were beginning to glimmer in the purple sky when a soft knock came on her door.

“Enter.” She did not turn to see who came.

“Cousin?”

Vixa recognized the Speaker’s voice. “Your Majesty,” she said, rising quickly.

“Why, Cousin, I would not know you,” Elendar said, gently mocking. Vixa had forsaken her warrior’s garb for the admittedly more comfortable flowing gown of a highborn Silvanesti lady. The golden yellow robe was a luxury she felt she’d earned.

The Speaker entered, leaning on a staff and limping slightly. Vixa brought a chair for him, and he gratefully took it. He regarded her, merriment dancing in his almond eyes.

“The resemblance is even more pronounced now,” he murmured.

“What resemblance?”

“To your grandfather, Kith-Kanan. He and my father were twins, if you recall. You have the look of him.”

Vixa was mildly embarrassed. “I confess I don’t see it. My grandmother, Suzine, was human, and sometimes that’s all people see, all I see as well.” She offered him nectar, which he politely refused. She asked, “What brings you here, Great Speaker?”

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. “I–I would like to know your mind about certain things.”

“Such as Queen Uriona?”

“Hmm, yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “What is your opinion of her?”

“She is mad, hungry for power, and should never be allowed her freedom again.”

“Yes, yes, but what do you think of her?”

She frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Cousin, is she not beautiful?”

Vixa felt her jaw dropping in surprise. So that was the way the wind was blowing. No answer came to her. Of course the Dargonesti queen was lovely to look at, but what had that to do with anything?

“You are well traveled, Cousin,” the Speaker went on. “You know the ways of the world. My counselors have been pressuring me to marry since I came to the throne. Marriage brings stability, they say. But I’ve never met any maid who interested me. The ladies of the court are all light laughter and mocking gossip. When you arrived, I considered asking you to be my wife-”

“Me!”

“Why not? You’re of royal blood, you’re brave and honest, and not bad to look at.”

“My thanks to Your Majesty,” Vixa said tartly.

He grinned, then turned serious once more. “It was only a fleeting thought. The nobles and priests would never accept a Qualinesti marriage for me. There’s too much bitterness remaining from the war, and the rivalry of Kith-Kanan and my father. Queen Uriona, however …” His voice trailed off.

This time Vixa could not conceal her astonishment. “Queen Uriona? You mean you want to marry her?” the Qualinesti princess’s voice was loud with shock.

“We cannot simply release her. What better way to keep watch on her? She’ll have no allies to plot with, no faction to support any policies of her own. She’s elven, she’s of royal lineage, and”-he shifted in his chair-“she is very beautiful. Why shouldn’t I think of marrying her?”

“Because she’s evil!” exclaimed Vixa, jumping to her feet. “Because she’s a powerful sorceress capable of any treachery!” The Speaker’s face reflected mild reproof, and Vixa struggled to rein in her temper. One did not screech at the Speaker of the Stars-even if he was talking blasted nonsense! She sat down again.

Elendar said calmly, “What better place to keep such a formidable opponent than here? There’ll be none to aid her, and the mages of Silvanost are more than a match for one Dargonesti queen.”

Vixa tried another approach. “What about the succession? The Silvanesti won’t want a half-Dargonesti as ruler after you, will they?”

“No offspring of mine will ever become Speaker-be they half Dargonesti or full Silvanesti. That was settled long ago. When my brother, the previous Speaker, died, I was asked to rule as regent for my eldest nephew, but I refused. Then the privy council offered me the throne as Speaker of the Stars, if I would designate my nephew as heir apparent, even above any children I might have later. I agreed.”

The complexities of Silvanesti politics were giving Vixa a headache. She could muster no argument to change his mind. He had obviously given this matter a great deal of consideration. Shrugging her shoulders, the Qualinesti princess said, “Sire, you must do as you see fit. As for Uriona, she will never love you, only herself. She may even try to murder you, thinking to capture the throne for herself. If you can live with that, then-well, it’s not my place to argue.”

The Speaker levered himself out of the chair. “I value your honesty, Cousin. Never doubt that my eyes are open to all Uriona’s faults. But I think I shall marry her. I will have the queen of my heart’s desire, foil the reactionary nobles, and live a long life to boot. Good night, lady!”

The next morning, the palace was abuzz with rumors that the Speaker of the Stars had made a marriage proposal to the Dargonesti queen. There were shocked mutterings, and several of the older courtiers were heard to say that such a thing would never have been allowed in the days of Speaker Sithas. However, since the succession was in no danger, the majority of the nobles supported their Speaker once the initial shock had worn off. The wedding would take place in a month’s time. Repairs had begun on the damaged portions of the city, and the entire capital, of stunning beauty already, would have to be made radiant for the coming nuptials. Everyone, citizen and noble alike, anticipated a grand celebration.