Troy Denning: Beyond the High Road

She turned first to the families of five young nobles who had tried to assassinate her late in the Abraxus Affair, both to show she held no grudges and to prove she did not fear them. The dukes managed to stammer out their compliments, but the duchesses were so stunned they could hardly return her greeting. Tanalasta took her leave graciously, then breathed a sigh of relief and led Dauneth down the aisle to more comfortable territory. Her friends the Wyvernspurs were next, Cat looking resplendent in pearl-white, Giogi as flamboyant and affable as always in gold-trimmed velvet.

“By the Lady, Princess!” Giogi embraced Tanalasta warmly, then stood back to admire her with a frankly lascivious gaze. “What happened? You’ve become a real beauty!”

“Giogi!” Cat slapped her mate on the shoulder, then stepped to the edge of the purple carpet to wrap her strong arms around Tanalasta. “Forgive my husband, Princess, you know what a clod he can be.”

“I will take Giogi’s compliments over a Bleth’s flattery any day,” Tanalasta laughed. She motioned to Dauneth. “You remember the good warden, I am sure.”

Cat’s eyes twinkled as she took in Dauneth’s gold-trimmed doublet, noting how it complimented Tanalasta’s amethyst gown-and how close its indigo fabric came to the royal purple.

“As handsome as ever.” Cat squeezed Tanalasta’s hand, then leaned close to whisper, “You’re a lucky woman, my dear.”

Tanalasta raised a brow, but said nothing about the hastiness of her friend’s assumption. “We’ll talk later, Cat.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Cat released her hand and curtsied. “I want to hear all about your adventures in Huthduth.”

“Adventures?” Giogi asked, looking confused. “Isn’t Huthduth a monastery?”

“It is.” Cat elbowed him in the ribs. “Take your leave, Giogi.”

Giogi bowed. “Until later, Princess.”

Tanalasta acknowledged the bow with a friendly nod, then continued up the Aisle of Courtesy. They had now closed to within a few paces of the Royal Rostrum, where Tanalasta was delighted to see the tall, white-haired figure of Alaphondar Emmarask standing slightly apart from the crowd. As the Sage Most Learned of the Royal Court, Alaphondar was Tanalasta’s instructor in law, philosophy, history, and almost everything else. The two had become far more than friends over three decades of study, though never in the way sometimes whispered in the royal halls. Hoping to have a few words with him about the blight that had delayed her journey from Huthduth, she pulled Dauneth gently forward-only to have a stumpy little woman step onto the Aisle of Courtesy and block her way.

“Princess Tanalasta, your beauty exceeds even the wildest claims of my son.”

So shocked was Tanalasta that she required a moment to comprehend what she was seeing. The woman was draped in organdy and pearls, with sapphires dangling from her earlobes and rubies glittering on every available digit-even her thumbs. Her powdered hair was piled into a spiraling tower and held in place by eight diamond hairpins arranged in a moonlike crescent. Clearly, the woman was a dame of the realm, yet she behaved as though she knew no better than to block a royal’s path.

A pair of bodyguards slipped past the princess and took positions to both sides of the woman, awaiting some sign of how to handle the situation. Tanalasta glanced at Dauneth, whose reddening face confirmed the duchess’s identity, then decided not to have the woman removed. The warden disengaged himself politely and went to his dauntless mother’s side.

“Your Highness, may I present my mother, Lady Merelda Marfiir.”

Tanalasta sensed a spreading circle of silence and knew that half the nobles of the realm were watching to see how she handled the delicate situation-and also to judge the progress of Dauneth’s courtship. The princess did not gesture the duchess to rise, but neither did she insult the woman by signaling the guards to return her to her proper place.

“Lady Marliir, how kind of you to present yourself.” As Tanalasta spoke, she glimpsed her parents at the base of the rostrum, watching in shock. “I have been looking for you. I wish to express my gratitude for hosting the king’s birthday party.”

Merelda flushed in delight. “Not at all. The pleasure is mine,” she said, rising without invitation. If the woman heard the gasps that surrounded her, her fleshy smile did not betray it. “I am so happy to meet you, my dear. Dauneth has told me so much about you.”

“Indeed?”

“Oh yes.” Oblivious to the ice in Tanalasta’s voice, Merelda glanced around to be certain her fellow noblewomen were watching, then took her son’s hand and stepped forward. “He speaks of you all the time, and only in the fondest terms, I assure you.”

Dauneth’s face turned as red as the rubies on his mother’s fingers. “Mother, please.” He clasped her hand tightly and tried unsuccessfully to draw her toward the edge of the carpet, where Raynaar Marliir stood looking on in helpless mortification. “Are you trying to disadvantage me with the princess?”

The question drew a round of good natured chuckles from everyone but Tanalasta, who was fast losing patience with Lady Marliir Evidently, the woman believed she could bend Tanalasta to her will as easily as had the traitor Aunadar Bleth. The princess glanced in her parents’ direction, silently signaling them to give her some help before she was forced to embarrass their hostess. The king started to turn toward the rostrum, which would trigger the trumpet blast calling the party to order, then glanced over Tanalasta’s shoulder at Vangerdahast and suddenly stopped.

“I am so looking forward to-“

“Don’t say it, please,” Tanalasta warned. Her sharp tone was due as much to her ire at having her signal overridden by Vangerdahast as her impatience with Lady Marliir. “It would be embarrassing-“

“Embarrassing? My dear, Dauneth dances better than that.” Merelda threw her head back and joined the other nobles in a round of laughter, then caught Tanalasta’s hand between hers. “But if you don’t approve of his footwork, you will have plenty of time to correct it-won’t you?”

The silence grew as thick as smoke, and Tanalasta found it impossible to control her mounting anger. If the king insisted on allowing Vangerdahast to countermand his daughter’s wishes, then it would be up to him to deal with the consequences. The princess jerked her hand from the woman’s grasp, and put on her most guileless smile.

“I am sorry, Duchess Marliir. I cannot follow your meaning. Are you under the impression that Dauneth and I are betrothed?”

A quiet murmur filled the room, and Lady Marliir’s smile stiffened into a cringe. Her jaw began to work fitfully, trying to string a series of disjointed syllables into some sort of explanation, but Tanalasta refused to give the woman a chance to push her further. She looked to the guards, but Dauneth was already pressing his mother into the grasp of her flabbergasted husband. Duke Marliir clamped onto his wife’s elbow and turned toward the nearest exit.

As soon as King Azoun saw what was happening, he cast the briefest glance in his daughter’s direction, so quick that only the most astute of observers would have noted the inherent reproach. Tanalasta returned the gesture with an innocent shrug. She had no wish to sour her father’s mood, lest it affect how he received the birthday gift she had brought from Huthduth, but she had to stand up for herself. If that created a problem, it was Vangerdahast’s doing and not hers.

Azoun pasted a stiff smile on his face, then disengaged himself from Filfaeril. “Lady Marliir, one moment if you please.”

The Marliirs stopped and slowly turned, Raynaar’s face flushed with embarrassment and his wife’s white with mortification. Merelda curtsied deeply and did not rise.