“I shall be circumspect,” the manticore promised. “Farewell, Wizard! Summon me at need!” He bounded off after the young couple, who were too busy gazing into one another’s eyes to notice him. Matt had to admit he wasn’t entirely sorry to part company with the manticore. All those teeth made him nervous. Then he turned and felt the fire of instant jealousy. King Boncorro was paying entirely too much attention to his sister monarch-and the attentions were anything but brotherly. His eye gleamed as he bowed to the young queen, her habergeon again lashed behind her saddle, standing demurely clad in a gown that nonetheless should have been classified as a diplomatic weapon. Boncorro kissed her hand, and may be excused if he lingered, for she was very beautiful. May be. Matt had to remind himself that the king wasn’t really making advances-but his blood boiled anyway.
“I regret that you could not accept my invitation to stay longer, your Majesty,” King Boncorro said.
“I am honored, your Majesty.” Alisande gave the handsome young man a roguish smile, making Matt’s blood boil. “But I must needs tend my own kingdom, and I have been absent too long.”
“Ah, well!” Boncorro sighed. “Perhaps I might return this visit?”
“We will always be glad to welcome yourself and your knights at our court, your Majesty-my husband and I together.”
A flash of irritation crossed Boncorro’s features, but he took it in good part, turning to Matt and saying, “I suppose I should count it a compliment, Lord Wizard, that you have never allowed me more than a minute’s conversation alone with your enchanting wife.”
“A compliment… ? Oh! Yes. Of course. Definitely,” Matt said. “Well, I must despair of the opportunity, then,” Boncorro sighed, “for I would not wish the early death of the Lord Wizard, when he has aided me so vastly-even though that may not have been his intention.”
“A live ally is always worth more than a dead rival,” Sir Guy pointed out. “True, true,” Boncorro admitted. “But if you should have a daughter, your Majesty, and if she is as beautiful as yourself, I will pray for an introduction.”
“For your son, perhaps, your Majesty.” Alisande dimpled. “But first I must see to an heir.”
“Well, we’re working on it,” Matt reminded her. “No,” said Alisande, looking directly into his eyes. “I am. Your part is done.”
“What do you mean?” Matt frowned, and the jealousy boiled over. “What is this? One look at a handsome king, and I’m suddenly redundant? I mean, I know he’s-”
Sir Guy coughed. “Lord Wizard,” he said, “I think her Majesty’s meaning has escaped you.”
“What do you mean? She was saying my part in it was-” Matt broke off as realization hit him, and stared at Alisande. She smiled, as much with relief as with joy. “Oh, darling!” Matt gathered her to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The End