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
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
“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.
Gundabyr couldn’t believe his ears. “It’s time for me to go home,” he said morosely. “I’ve heard of some strange marriages in my time, but I never heard of a bride who gained her groom by besieging his city!”
Vixa agreed heartily. “I’ve no wish to remain and see Uriona achieve her dream. Maybe not queen of all the elves, but certainly queen of Silvanesti!”
They went to make their good-byes to the Speaker. He was downcast when he learned they intended to depart. “The wedding will be immense,” he promised. “Ten days of feasting! Actors, jugglers, and singers are being summoned. The clerics are building a chapel of glass under the river just for the ceremony! You should remain for that at least.”
Gundabyr was tempted. Ten days of food and drink was certainly something to consider. The presence of Uriona, however, was certain to turn the food to ashes and the nectar to vinegar. They both declined. The Speaker settled for showering his new friends with rich gifts of clothing and jewels, not forgetting the magnifying lens he had promised Gundabyr. He asked how they planned to get home.
“Walk?” said the dwarf.
“Ride,” said Vixa firmly. “If Your Majesty would loan us horses.”
“I shall do no such thing. You will have a griffon from the royal stable. You can fly home faster than the wind!”
He clasped hands with Gundabyr, and Vixa was surprised to find herself embraced. She returned the gesture warmly.
“May the gods favor you in all things, Cousin,” Elendar said sincerely. “Master Gundabyr, you and Lady Vixa are welcome in my realm at any time.”
They thanked him again and took their leave. Outside, the morning sun was promising a hot day. Vixa looked across the city to Tower Protector, a frown on her face.
“I have one more errand left,” she told Gundabyr. “I’ll meet you at the royal stable in an hour.”
“Whatever you say, Princess.”
Vixa walked to Tower Protector and entered without challenge. Though the nobles of Silvanost might disparage her for her heritage, the warriors respected her valor. She found Samcadaris and told him she desired a favor.
“Anything, lady,” he said simply.
“I want to talk to Coryphene.”
The marshal was surprised. “You’ll not harm him-he is in my charge.”
“I won’t touch him,” Vixa promised.
She climbed to the top floor of one of the smaller towers. There in the center of a round room a large glass box had been formed by magic, sealed tight but for some finger-sized holes along its top. The box was filled with water. It was Coryphene’s prison cell.
He stirred when she entered. He still wore his warrior’s clothing, though without armor. Vixa came close to the thin glass barrier.
“What do you want?” he asked, addressing her in Elvish. His voice was muffled by the water and the glass, but she could understand him.
“I’ve come to say good-bye. I’m going home.”
At her words his head came up, and he stared at her. “To Urione?”
“Qualinost,” she corrected. “Why would you think otherwise?”
“You are a sister of the sea now. The call will be irresistible.”
She laughed. “At Thonbec, when my freedom and credibility were at stake, it wasn’t so irresistible. I couldn’t even change into a dolphin.”
“Foolish drylander. Do dolphins live in rivers? Only seawater makes the change possible.”
