Amlaruil was silent for a long moment, as if she, too, knew the truth of his words. "I swear it," she said at last.
With a faint smile, she eased out of Zaor's embrace. "How is Ilyrana?"
It was strangely comforting, to be discussing their child as if they were lovers wed, recently reunited after a small time apart. Zaor only wished he had more to tell Amlaruil.
"Ilyrana is hard to know," he admitted. "She is not a cold or rude girl, yet she remains aloof, distant."
"Has she taken well to court life?"
Zaor sighed. "On the face of it, well enough. Her manners are without flaw, and her beauty remarkable. Though she is not yet of age, already the young nobles are lining up to vie for her favors. But when not at her lessons or at court, she has little to do with anyone in the palace."
"The queen is kind to her?" Amlaruil said tentatively, hating to ask but needing to know.
"Lydi'aleera is not unkind. She does not know what to do with Ilyrana, though. She has no understanding of the girl. Not that I am much better," he added.
Amlaruil heard the guilt in his voice. "You cannot blame yourself. Ilyrana is a stranger to you. That choice was mine, for good or ill."
"You should have told me," Zaor said softly. The elf woman shook her head, understanding what he meant. "If I had told you on the day of your kingmaking that I carried your child, you would never have agreed to the alliance with Amarillis. As things stand, the kingdom is secure, Evermeet's defenses have never been stronger, and even the most contentious Gold elves speak with grudging pride of their king. Would any of this have come to pass, had you passed over Lydi'aleera to wed your cousin?"
"But does it truly matter, compared to what we have lost?"
"It matters!" Amlaruil said with sudden passion. "Do not dismiss what we have accomplished, or demean the sacrifices that we have made! If I did not believe that what I did was for the good of Evermeet, I could not bear this life!"
Zaor again took the angry elf woman in his arms, soothing her with soft words and gentle hands. The years fell away from them both, and with joy he felt the familiar kindling of their shared flame. When he thought he could bear no more, Amlaruil broke away. Her eyes searched his.
"How is it that you have no heir within marriage?" she asked softly.
The elf grimaced but did not flinch away from the question. "Perhaps I have not your dedication to Evermeet, Amlaruil. But there are some duties that I cannot countenance. If that makes me less the king, so be it. Lydi'aleera agreed to this alliance for what it was-a political convenience and no more. Before we were wed, I told her in all honesty what would be between her and me, and what would not. I cannot be other than I am."
"And what is that?" murmured Amlaruil, reading the answer in his eyes but needing to hear the words.
"Yours," he replied. "Only yours."
"For this night," she agreed, taking his hands and drawing him down with her to the forest bed of deep, green-velvet moss.
"No," Zaor said softly. "For all time."
In the months that followed, Amlaruil fulfilled her promises of that night in ways that astounded even her most avid supporters.
She left the Towers at last, traveling Evermeet with a small Circle of magi and testing the sons and daughters of both noble and common houses. Those who showed talent were accepted for training, regardless of birth.
This did not please all the elves, particularly those scions of the powerful Gold elf families who felt that they had already lost enough. Amlaruil had a ready answer for these restless and disgruntled young elves. In a planned confrontation, during the midsummer gathering at the Drelagara meadows, she brought a Circle of magi in mock spell battle against the powerful war wizard Yalathanil Symbaern.
Though all understood that the magical jousting was meant as entertainment, the power of Yalathanil's magic staff, demonstrated before a large gathering of wizards, magi, and nobles, had the effect that Amlaruil desired.
Magic items, she insisted, were not merely family treasures to be hoarded. They were an important part of elven culture, a legacy of all elves. She pledged the support of the Towers to any adventurers who wished to recover elven artifacts from the ruins of lost elven civilizations, and to artisans who would create new ones. The result was a flurry of activity, and the harbors of Leuthilspar bloomed with ships sailing eastward to reclaim the glories of times past.
Inspired by the High Mage's example, the elves began to pursue the magical arts with renewed fervor. But as Amlaruil was soon to learn, nurturing the strengths of the elves was an easy matter. Dealing with their failures was quite another.
As the clans vied with each other for power in magical matters, the children of noble houses were increasingly urged to excel. There were some children sent to the Tower who, in less enthusiastic times, would not have been there. Chief among these was Rennyn Aelorothi.
The young Gold elf was rapidly becoming a problem. Like many of his kin, Rennyn was proud and even arrogant about his high birth. But unlike most elves, he had a barrier about his heart that kept him apart from any sort of deep communion. The Aelorothi clan was determined that their son become a High Mage, yet the intense sharing of the Circle magic was utterly beyond him.
For a while, Amlaruil tried to occupy Rennyn's talents elsewhere. But he disdained to learn the bladesinger's art from Shanyrria Alenuath, claiming he would not apprentice himself to a Moon elf. He showed some promise with battle spells and simple illusions, but as his training progressed it became clear that he simply possessed an unusually small amount of talent for any sort of magic.
Demand for places in the Tower was high, and elves of great promise waited for their turns. The other High Magi began to clamor for Rennyn's dismissal. But Amlaruil was unwilling to do this, and not just for fear of alienating the powerful Aelorothi family. She saw much to value in Rennyn. Although his skills were not those highly prized by the elven culture, she began to envision a role in which he could excel.
The day she called him to her private rooms, Rennyn came before her with the stiff pride of one who saw his fate approaching and was prepared to accept it standing tall.
"You know that I am dedicated to the service of these Towers, but I will be the first to admit that they are not all of Evermeet," Amlaruil began, putting the young elf immediately off guard. "There are other important tasks to be done. I think that an elf of your talents might do better for himself by looking beyond these Towers."
"And what talents might those be?" Rennyn said with bitterness. "I am a failed mage, however you wish to gild me with your golden words!"
"Not so," Amlaruil countered. "You have gained facility with many types of magic. You have not the makings of a High Mage, I agree with that, but with a little assistance from the right devices, you could accomplish any magical task you might need to undertake."
She took a ring from her hand and gave it to him. "There is a looking glass on the wall behind you. Put on the ring, and imagine that you need to speak with a forest elf, a stranger to you."
The elf gave her an incredulous look, but did as he was bid. He turned to face the mirror, only to pull back, startled by the strange face that gazed back at him. His own face, albeit copper in hue and swirled with green and brown tatoos, stared out from the glass with inscrutable black eyes. The familiar golden hair had darkened to brown, and was ornamented with weavings of feathers and beads. Rennyn lifted a wondering hand to touch his face, looking surprised anew as his reflection followed suit.