The joke drew the appropriate response from everyone near enough to hear it. Lady Marliir blushed and glanced around to make certain everyone had seen her reputation restored, then Azoun kissed her hand and returned to Filfaeril’s side. The crown princess smiled diplomatically and tried not to show her seething anger. The party had been spared an unseemly scandal, but at no small cost to Tanalasta’s prestige. She could only hope her father would seize the opportunity to undo the damage when she presented her birthday gift.
Dauneth returned to Tanalasta’s side and rather stiffly offered her his arm. Feeling as ill at ease as he did, she slipped a hand through his elbow and followed her parents onto the Royal Rostrum. The trumpets blared, calling the party to order, and the ballroom quieted as they ascended the stairs.
Tanalasta’s anger gave way to thoughtfulness, and she began to wonder if someone had suggested to the poor woman that she push matters along. Of course, her suspicions fell instantly upon Vangerdahast. The old wizard had never been above helping destiny along-especially when Cormyr’s fate depended on it.
They reached the top of the rostrum and found four purple-cushioned thrones, flanked by a pair of simpler chairs for Dauneth and Vangerdahast. Azoun and Filfaeril sat in the middle thrones, and Tanalasta sat in the one to her father’s right. The royal magician dismissed the extra throne with a half-muttered word and a flick of his wrist, then pulled his chair to the queen’s side and dropped onto it heavily. He did not look in Tanalasta’s direction.
Once they were all seated, Dauneth formally welcomed the guests to his family’s home, glossing over the scene of a few moments earlier with an apt joke about the hearing of would-be grandmothers. The announcement that Princess Alusair would not be in attendance was greeted with a murmur of profound disappointment, but the warden quickly recaptured the crowd’s enthusiasm by drawing them into a rousing cycle of sixty-three hoorays-one for each of Azoun’s years. So thunderous were the cheers that they soon had Vangerdahast casting nervous glances at the ballroom’s alabaster cupola.
Once the cheers were finished, Dauneth asked the high nobles to clear a space in front of the rostrum, then brought on a company of singing acrobats. Within minutes, everyone in the room, from the lowliest lord to the king himself, was crying in laughter. Though Tanalasta could not forget Lady Marliir’s behavior, she did find herself able to forgive it-especially given that someone in the royal party had most likely put her up to it. By the time the show ended, the spectators were so exhausted from laughing that many had sunk to the floor holding their ribs.
As the performers cartwheeled and back-flipped out of the chamber, Dauneth invited the high nobles to ascend the rostrum in turn and present their gifts to the king. After the mirth of the acrobats, it was a welcome chance for the audience to relax and refresh themselves, and a pleasant drone descended over the chamber as Azoun opened the artfully wrapped packages. For the most part, the gifts reflected the families that had given them. From the seafaring Dauntinghorns there was an intricately modeled cog of pure gold, with silken sails that furled or unfurled at the tug of a tiny chain. The Hawklins presented an archaic sword crafted in forgotten Netheril, too ancient and brittle to wield in combat, but a valuable addition to the king’s collection in Suzail. Cat and Giogi Wyvernspur produced a huge white stag captured in their Hullack Forest, tame enough to eat from a man’s hand, yet so proud it allowed only the king to approach it.
Azoun thanked each giver profusely, displaying the offering and expressing his appreciation so sincerely that no one in the crowd could doubt how deeply the present had touched him. Tanalasta quickly lapsed into a performance of look, exclaim, and applause that required only a small fraction of her attention-a routine shared by many high nobles as they circulated through the front of the room, conversing quietly and congratulating each other on the genius of their gifts. At the base of the rostrum, Merelda was the center of much attention, even from the aloof Huntsilvers and the ever-envious Illances.
Once the process seemed well underway, Dauneth returned to his seat and leaned over to speak quietly with Tanalasta. “I apologize for my mother’s eagerness. As you can see, she was quite taken with the idea of our marriage.”
Despite her anger, Tanalasta forced herself to smile and speak in a teasing voice. “Of course you have said nothing to encourage her.”
Dauneth withdrew slightly, apparently sensing the pique behind her tone. “I would never presume!”
“No?” Tanalasta pushed her lip out in a parody of a pout. “What of those ‘wild claims’ about my beauty? Are you telling me you said no such thing?”
Dauneth looked confused. “Of course, I find you ravishingly beautiful, but in truth-“
“Say no more, Dauneth. There are some things a princess should not hear.” Tanalasta laughed lightly, then laid a hand on his arm. She glimpsed Lady Marliir drawing Alaslyn Rowanmantle’s attention to the gesture, but did not draw back. If she wanted Dauneth to relax, she had to seem relaxed herself. “Besides, I do not think your mother was the only one eager to push us along.”
Dauneth glanced uneasily toward her parents and Vangerdahast, then said cautiously, “I am sure everyone wants to see you happily wed.”
“Truly? I was under the impression that Vangerdahast just wants to see me wed-happily or not.” Tanalasta gave another laugh. “Really, his schemes are so transparent.”
Dauneth avoided looking in the wizard’s direction. “I am sure he is only thinking of the kingdom’s welfare.”
“So he is the one!”
“The one what?” Dauneth asked.
“The one who convinced your mother to behave as she did.” Continuing to hold Dauneth’s arm, Tanalasta smiled in Merelda’s direction. “I know Lady Marliir’s reputation, Dauneth. She is hardly the kind to blunder in such a matter.”
Dauneth looked as relieved as he did surprised, and Tanalasta knew that in his eagerness to vindicate his mother, he would take her bait. She waited quietly and continued to look in Merelda’s direction, nodding pleasantly when Lady Marliir flashed a puzzled smile.
Finally, Dauneth said, “Now that you mention it, I did see her talking to the royal magician earlier this morning. He must have told her to behave as though we were betrothed.”
“And what did he tell you?” Tanalasta’s tone was casual.
Dauneth turned in his seat. “I beg your pardon?”
“I thought we were going to be honest with each other, good warden.” Tanalasta removed her hand from his arm, then said, “I know Vangey too well to think he would execute only half a plan. When were you to ask me?”
Dauneth closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed. “During our dance. I was to whisper the question in your ear. But I knew nothing about my mother. That surprised me as much as it did you.”
“Which does nothing to excuse your own behavior.” Tanalasta cast a furious glance across the rostrum at Vangerdahast, who remained oblivious to her anger and watched in weary amusement as the king set a silver clockwork cat after a golden mouse. “Why, Dauneth?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you do this?” Tanalasta was struggling to hold back tears of rage. “I know you didn’t do it for the throne-not after the loyalty you showed during the Abraxus Affair. So why did you betray me?”
“I…” Dauneth looked away
Tanalasta noticed several nobles watching from the ballroom floor. She ignored them. “Tell me.”
When Dauneth looked back to her, his face was stern. “I did not betray you. If anyone is a betrayer here, it is you.”
Tanalasta raised her brow, shocked. “Me?”