Death of the Dragon - Ed Greenwood [111]
She wanted to see more of him. Not the stern and disapproving Azoun, or the Lion of Cormyr raging in one of their many fights, but just the old man, watching her with admiration in his eyes-with love in his gaze. She wanted to hear him laugh and trade clever words with a courtier, and see him dance with her mother and make Filfaeril smile that smile she kept only for him, that made her whole face light up. Gods, Alusair Nacacia might even shock the court by turning up in a gown, painted nails, perfume, and with her hair tamed. Not to see their jaws drop, but to see the look on her father's face.
She hadn't realized she was smiling or that tears had come into her eyes, until one of the men behind her-Kortyl Rowanmantle, who was still drooling at her heels every day, somehow oblivious to the fact that there was at least one woman in the kingdom that he fancied, princess or not, who wasn't smitten with his easy good looks and artless, swaggering charm the moment she laid eyes on him-asked, "Is something… ah, wrong, Lady?"
"Nothing that matters now, Kortyl," she murmured. "Nothing that matters now."
"Oh," he said, then added in a rush, "That's good. As I've mentioned a time or two before, if there's anything I can-"
"My thanks, Kortyl."
"After all, Highness, my prowess… with a blade… is not unknown across our fair kingdom, and the lands and coins and castles I command are not inconsiderable, if-"
"They are, aren't they? I must bear that in mind, Kortyl," the Steel Princess murmured, "when you aren't stirring me so."
There was a little silence before Kortyl Rowanmantle almost yelped, "Stirring you, my Lady? I'm stirring you?"
"Indeed," Alusair replied, turning to give him a sweet, tight, and yet fierce smile. She leaned close to him-so close that he parted his lips invitingly, for her to kiss at last-and added in a whispered snarl, "Stirring me to fury, dolt, with the noise you're making when I've commanded quiet! Keep this up, and the next casualty of this war will be one Kortyl Rowanmantle, executed by a blade through the throat because he disobeyed a royal order on the battlefield."
Two fingers closed ever so gently on Kortyl's windpipe. Swallowing was suddenly painful-and that was unfortunate, because he felt a sudden, urgent need to swallow.
"But-but-yes, of course, Highness," he husked, then fell silent as if the threatened blade had slid home when the princess laid a finger across his lips, then drew the other slowly across his throat.
Without warning, she kissed him.
Kortyl Rowanmantle was still grinning in startled amazement when something suddenly fell across the dappled sunlight ahead.
Alusair looked up and screamed.
"The dragon!" she howled, in a voice so loud and harsh it was scarcely her own. "Scatter!"
The words had barely left her throat when the tops of two duskwood trees ahead of her exploded like kindling snapped across a forester's knee.
Nalavarauthatoryl the Red burst through them like an eager fox plunging over a wall into a henhouse pen, diving down heedless of branches and another possible impalement.
Dark drippings were still coming from the dragon's belly, but it looked not nearly as wounded as the Cormyreans had hoped. Its talons were spread wide to clutch and rake, and its jaws were agape-the jaws from whence the flames would come.
As she hurled herself desperately aside, away from much shouting, Alusair could have sworn the dragon was grinning.
All Faerun exploded into flames around her.
33
The rain fell in sheets, pounding down on the iron canopy with such a roar Vangerdahast could hardly hear himself think. Peals of thunder rolled sporadically across the low ceiling, loosening tiny flakes of ancient Grodd fresco and sending them fluttering to the watery floor. Another lightning bolt lanced across the room and shattered a stubby little pillar. Chips of marble sprayed out like shrapnel,