The king raised his brow, but Tanalasta took heart from the surprised twinkle in her mother’s eye and refused to back down. After the Abraxus Affair, she and Vangerdahast had spent a few months traveling together, and the ordeal had been enough to convince the princess she could no longer allow the royal magician to intimidate her. While he had helped her learn the ways of the world and forget her humiliation at the hands of Aunadar Bleth, he had also attempted to dampen her emerging interest in Chauntea and steer her down ‘more appropriate’ paths of inquiry. The trip had finally come to a bad end when the princess rebelled and declared her decision to enter the House of Huthduth. She could only imagine what Vangerdahast had told her parents about the decision, but she felt certain he had been less than candid about his own part in the events that caused it.
At last, the king laid a hand on Tanalasta’s shoulder. “I see you have found some iron in those mountains,” he said. “That is good, but if you wish to make a fist of it, you mustn’t forget the velvet that covers it.”
Tanalasta tipped her head, deciding it wiser not to put the king into a bad mood by protesting such a gentle rebuke. “I will bear your advice in mind, Father.”
“Good.” The king smiled, then led her toward the settee, where Vangerdahast still sat with his head back and eyes closed. “Now let’s see if we can locate your sister and get this party underway.”
The mage lifted his head. “We’ll have to start without Alusair, I’m afraid.”
“Start without her?” demanded Filfaeril. The queen narrowed her pale eyes. “Where is she?”
“I-er-I don’t know, exactly.” His face reddening, Vangerdahast hefted himself off the settee. “Still in the Stonelands, perhaps. I have just contacted her, but all she said was ‘not now, Old Snoop.’”
“Then go get her! We decided to have the king’s party in Arabel so-“Filfaeril caught herself and glanced in Dauneth’s direction, then began again, “When we decided to accept Raynaar Marliir’s kind invitation to host the celebration, it was to make it easier for both our daughters to attend.”
“So it was, Majesty” Vangerdahast said, inclining his head, “but I am afraid Alusair has removed her ring again.”
Tanalasta saw Dauneth’s eyes flick to the signet rings on the hand of each royal.
“I have a thirst, Dauneth.” She took the warden’s arm and directed him toward the door. ‘Would you fetch me a sherry?”
“You needn’t send him away, Tanalasta.” The king toyed briefly with his signet ring, then continued, “I think we can trust Dauneth with our little secret. Besides, the warden knows more about this situation than you do.”
As if to prove the king correct, Dauneth turned to Tanalasta and said, “Emperel is missing.”
“Missing?” Tanalasta asked, feeling slighted that the king had not seen fit to send word of this to her in Huthduth. Emperel was the confidential guardian of the “Sleeping Sword,” a secret company of brave young lords put into magical hibernation as a precaution against an ancient prophecy forecasting Cormyr’s destruction. That the king trusted Dauneth with this covert knowledge was a sign of his confidence in the man, and also of his faith that the good warden would one day be his son-in-law. “What happened?”
“That is what Alusair went to find out,” said Azoun. He turned to Vangerdahast. “Should we be concerned about her?”
“Of course!” the wizard snapped. “The girl will never learn. You know how many times I have told her not to remove her ring. What if it was an important matter?”
“The matter is important,” said Filfaeril. “This is Azoun’s sixty-third birthday. Alusair’s absence speaks volumes, and not only to us.”
“Let us not overstate matters,” said the king. “I’m sure she has a good reason for not being here.”
Tanalasta bit her tongue, knowing it would only make her seem jealous to point out the double standard. It was perfectly fine for Alusair to vanish into the Stonelands and forgo his birthday celebration without so much as a word of apology yet it would not do for the crown princess to speak sharply to Vangerdahast. It was no wonder Tanalasta felt more at home in Huthduth’s austerity than in the luxury of her family’s palace.
The king offered his arm to Filfaeril, then turned toward the great double doors leading into the ballroom. “Vangerdahast, you will have to enter alone,” the king said, “and do keep trying to reach Alusair. I’m sure she would contact you if she needed help, but with Emperel missing…”
Vangerdahast nodded. “I’ll pass word when I reach her.”
The royal magician extended his hand toward the door, producing several loud raps. From the other side came the barked command of a guard and the muffled blare of trumpets, then the doors swung open. The king and queen stepped through to a thunderous roar of applause.
Dauneth stepped to Tanalasta’s side and offered her his arm. “If I may.”
“Of course.”
Tanalasta looped her hand through the crook of his elbow and stepped into House Marliir’s famous Rhodes Room. The huge ballroom was so packed with nobles that she could see nothing of its renowned treasures, save the gold-leafed capitals of its marble columns and the luminescent vault of its alabaster cupola. Her parents were about ten steps ahead, strolling down a plush purple runner that demarcated the Aisle of Courtesy, a small lane to be kept clear for the royals alone. They were simply nodding and waving as they passed the lesser nobles in the rear of the room, but their progress would slow to a crawl as they stopped to exchange pleasantries with the important nobles waiting in the front of the chamber near the Royal Rostrum.
Tanalasta forced a smile and followed, acutely conscious of’ the rising brows and appraising gazes that greeted her passage. She did not doubt that even the lowest baron present knew how Aunadar Bleth had tricked her into falling in love with him, then tried to seize the throne. Their applause was polite but subdued, a sure sign of the concern they felt over what would become of Cormyr when she took her father’s place. The princess continued to smile and nod, calling upon memories of green mountain meadows to remain calm and composed. The first step to restoring her reputation was to appear confident in herself, and to do that she had to be relaxed inside.
As they progressed up the Aisle of Courtesy, the wool tabards and linen smocks of the lesser nobles gave way to embroidered capes and chiffon gowns. Brass closures and pewter brooches began to appear in strategic locations, often decorated with brilliant tiger eyes or ghostly moon crystals. Dauneth greeted these men and women by name, and Tanalasta would say what a pleasure it was to make their acquaintance. They never failed to return her smile with somewhat dazed expressions, a sign the princess took to mean she was making a better impression than expected.
Tanalasta and Dauneth reached the high nobles at the front of the room, where the air smelled of sweet lavender oil and lilac water. The chamber seemed lit by the twinkle of sparkling rubies and gleaming sapphires, and the low murmur of self-important voices reverberated in the pit of her stomach. The men wore feathered caps and doublets of brilliant silk, while the women had gowned themselves in veritable yards of lace and gossamer. Unlike the lower nobles standing farther back, the lords and ladies gathered here knew the royal family well, and they did not hesitate to compliment the queen’s appearance or congratulate Azoun on another year. Tanalasta thought of mountain brooks and pushed her smile wider, then entered the gauntlet.
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.