times than this and survived. If the gods gather in your father, you’ll just have to take the throne and rule as well as he would have wanted you to.”
The young princess’s only reply was a royal sob.
“Whatever you decide, I’ll be here,” Aunadar went on in a low voice. He was probably holding the crown princess with one hand and stroking her hair with the other, the wizard thought. He almost smiled, but instead, the young Bleth’s next words made him stiffen.
“I, and a few others like me, will stand with you, whatever the old wizard tries to do. He’s gathering the nobles to proclaim him royal regent, you know. I’ve even heard he’s going to use spells to fabricate some document or other, signed by your father, authorizing him to rule… a document whose signature magically comes from some other writ, of course. He’ll say he just plans to run the realm until you feel better able to do so-or until you produce an heir-but once he gets his hands on the Dragon Throne, no one of Obarskyr blood will ever sit on it again.”
There was another sob, and then an agonized, whispering voice. “But what shall I do? He has all those spells! And he knows where all father’s magic and wealth lies hidden, and-and just what old feuds and embarrassments and promises will make all the nobles dance to any tune he plays!”
“Not all, Lady Highness.” Bleth’s voice was firm. “Some few men stand ready to defend the cause of right. Some valiant few. I count myself fortunate to stand among them, when the realm needs me so-when you need me so, dove of my heart!”
“Oh, Aunadar,” the crown princess said with a thankful, tearful sigh. “I don’t know what I’d do without you! All of these grim men stride around demanding that I make decisions, and all the while, they’re waiting for me to say one thing wrong… one thing! Then they can smile and nod and say, ‘Aha! I knew she wasn’t fit to rule! See what a mess she’s made of our land? Best she be slain forthwith, or sent to one of our beds, to produce an heir we shall rear to be a proper king!’”
“I think you are fit to rule, my princess. I stand ready to fight with this sword to give you your chance, and I’ll face all the wizards in Faerun if that’s what it takes!”
“Oh, Aunadar!” Tanalasta gasped again. In the gloom of the servants’ closet, Vangerdahast made a mock vomiting mime of disgust. If he had to listen to much more of this…
The wet, murmuring sounds that were coming to his ears now meant that they were kissing. Long, hungry, tightly embraced kisses of the sort that made ladies-in-waiting swoon and old crones go all bright-eyed with nostalgia. Vangerdahast almost tore the closet door open and growled at them to get on with it.
Then Aunadar spoke again. “I must leave you now, my sweet. The wizard’s plots and schemes are relentless and spread even as we speak. My friends and I must work against them tirelessly, or not a noble house in the land may be truly loyal to the new crowned Queen Tanalasta!”
“Aunadar, don’t say that!” the princess protested. “Father’s going to get well, and-“
“Of course,” the young nobleman said quietly. “And when he does, you’ll be able to show him a decisive, evenhanded, masterful stewardship of the realm-your work of devotion during his infirmity. I know you will. Fare thee well, Tana, until next our lips meet!”
“Oh, Aunadar, do take care! The wizard’s folk are everywhere! Keep safe, will you?”
“Princess, I will,” the young Bleth’s voice came distantly, and a door closed. Tanalasta erupted into sobs.
Vangerdahast listened to her for a time, pity on his frowning face, and then shrugged. So she wanted to be a true Obarskyr? Then ‘twas time, and past time, that she showed her mettle. Rule over a realm was not something to be played at.
He opened the door soundlessly and walked to the low divan where she sat bent over, her face in her hands. It seemed to be her favorite place, and no doubt had seen much use over the last few months, what with the young Bleth sitting sideways on it holding her hands between every court meal!
Vangerdahast sighed loudly and sat down with a thump beside the princess. Tanalasta’s head jerked up. Her face was as white as a statue except where two silvery trails of tears ran down her cheeks from red-rimmed eyes.
“You!” She said in horror. “How did you get in here?”
Vangerdahast gave her a merry smile. “Magic, Lady Highness. You know-waggle the fingers and… It’s what keeps Cormyr strong!”
Tanalasta drew herself up, then rose to stand facing him, eyes glittering with hatred. “Are you threatening me, wizard?”
The Royal Magician met her daggerlike gaze calmly and said, “Child, I never threaten. I promise.”
Tanalasta’s lips drew together in a tight line. “I ought to have you thrown in irons, whipped, and then beheaded for bursting into a woman’s chambers unbidden! You might be here to get a heir for yourself!”
Vangerdahast rolled his eyes. “Nothing so energetic, Lady Princess. No, I’m here for another reason.” He reached into the breast of his robes and drew forth a folded parchment. Tanalasta’s eyes widened when she saw the royal seals. Then they narrowed.
“No, this is not the forged writ that young Aunadar has been going around telling people I was making with magic,” the wizard said testily. “If you care to examine it yourself, you’ll see that the seals are unbroken and that none of them are Azoun’s.”
He held out the parchment, and after a swaying moment of indecision wherein she obviously feared some sort of magical trap, the princess snatched it from him and stared at the seals. The state seal, the old court seal- which was in the keeping of her mother, the queen-and Filfaeril’s own seal, with the two small Obarskyr pendants she always added.
Impatiently Tanalasta broke them, froze for a moment for fear that she might have ignited some waiting magical trap, and then-when nothing happened-unfolded the parchment.
“As you can see,” Vangerdahast said almost wearily, “it is a fresh writ of regency, signed by your mother, Queen Filfaeril. Since both you and your young Bleth seemed so contemptuous of King Azoun’s own authority on an earlier document, and that of his father Rhigaerd, I took the precaution of procuring yet another authorization for my authority. As you can also see, it awaits your signature. My first concern, as always, is the safety of the realm, but I have no interest in ruling over the strident objections of the Obarskyr heir if I can possibly avoid doing so.”
“You expect me to sign this?” the princess snapped, nostrils flaring.
“I expect you to consider the implications of everything you do, with the greater good of the realm, and not what you may personally want, always foremost in your mind. It’s what your ancestors-and the wizards who have served them, from Baerauble the Wise to, well, myself-have always done. It’s what sitting on the Dragon Throne has always been about.”
“You just want to force me into giving you the crown,” Tanalasta whispered, her voice trembling with rage.
“No, lass, I don’t,” the wizard said flatly. “If wearing the crown were all that mattered to me, I could take it in an instant. You know that. As Aunadar never tires of reminding you, I do have all those spells.”
“Then why haven’t you taken it? Or named yourself regent?” Tanalasta almost screamed. “What is your game, wizard?”
“Life is my only game, Tanalasta-the life of the realm, and of every last scheming noble, tame dog, and silly princess in it. I work to make Cormyr ever stronger-not larger, not more decadent, but always a better place to live. It’s a long, long game, but then, I’ve never been a short-bet man, myself.”
Tanalasta frowned, and with her eyes steady on the wizard’s, slowly started to crumple the parchment. There was a flash, a soft numbing movement through her fingertips, and she was holding empty air.
Vangerdahast was holding the parchment himself. In fact, he was waving it at her. He raised his eyebrows and asked, “I take it you’ll not sign this?”
“Never!” Tanalasta spat. “I don’t know what vile magic you used on my mother to get her to sign it, but you’ll never get me to give in to you and your schemes! What have you done with her?”
Vangerdahast blinked. “Done with her? Nothing, child. You read too many hot romances.”
“Get out!” Tanalasta shrieked, pointing an imperious arm at the door. “Just get out!”
The wizard rose. “You can’t run away from problems forever, you know. If you don’t bother to rule the kingdom, someone else will step in and do it for you.”
“Such as you, perhaps?” the crown princess said with a sneer.
