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Death of the Dragon - Ed Greenwood [21]

By Root 1061 0
to rest over Tanalasta's womb. If the harvestmaster felt any embarrassment, his face did not betray it.

"Mother," Tanalasta mumbled, so surprised that she strained her aching jaw. "You might have had someone announce you."

Filfaeril continued toward the bed, her stride growing more assertive and forceful. "I came as soon as I heard you had awakened." She stopped at the base of the bed and continued to glare at Owden's hand. "I'm glad to see you feeling so well."

Tanalasta felt the heat rising to her cheeks, but took her cue from Owden and refused to take the bait. "To be truthful, I'm not quite sure how I feel." She waved at Owden and said, "You remember Harvestmaster Foley?"

"How could I forget?"

The expression in Filfaeril's eyes would have wilted a lesser man, but Owden merely stood and bowed without removing his hand from Tanalasta's abdomen. "As radiant as ever, your majesty."

Having failed to intimidate Owden, Filfaeril turned to Tanalasta and said, "A bit old for you, don't you think?"

"That is hardly to the point, Mother," said Tanalasta. "Harvestmaster Foley is tending to my health-as I am sure you know."

Filfaeril's expression remained icy. "The royal healers are not to your satisfaction?"

"I prefer Owden." Though her feelings were fast growing as icy as her mother's glare, Tanalasta forced herself to smile. "Surely, even a princess may choose who lays hands on her own body without the matter becoming the latest political crisis?"

A hint of shame flashed through Filfaeril's eyes, but she quickly regained control of her expression. In a slightly warmer voice, she said, "I suppose that is hardly too much to ask, and I really did not come here to discuss the matter of your royal temple anyway." She turned to Owden and graced him with a queenly smile. "So, how does our patient fare? I wasn't aware that she had suffered any injuries so far… south."

"She is a hale woman, majesty." Owden raised a querying eyebrow at Tanalasta-ever so slightly-and received the merest shake of a head in response, then continued without missing a beat. "She had some pain in her intestines, but I'm sure it is merely a matter of lying in bed too long… nothing a long walk won't cure."

As subtle as the signals between Tanalasta and Owden had been, they did not escape Filfaeril's notice. Her queenly smile grew cold enough to freeze a bonfire. "A walk, you say?" the queen asked. "Your Chauntean remedies are certainly more forward than those of our royal healers. They have warned me not to let her leave bed for the next tenday."

"A tenday!" Tanalasta pushed herself up. "Not on their-"

Owden motioned her back down and said, "The royal healers have not had occasion to observe the princess as closely as I over the past year. Trust me, the exercise will do her more good."

"I trust you," said Tanalasta. "That's all that matters."

Thankfully, Owden's healing hand finally cooled against her skin. He withdrew it, allowing her to lower her bed gown the rest of the way.

Filfaeril continued to glare at the priest so icily that even he began to grow uncomfortable.

He turned to Tanalasta and said, "If you are feeling well enough, perhaps I will withdraw and see to my own wounds."

"Of course, Owden, and thank you-for everything."

Owden bowed to her and the queen, then left. As soon as the anteroom door closed, the queen's attitude softened. She took the priest's place on the edge of the bed.

"I really didn't mean to intrude, my dear." She took Tanalasta's hand. "It's just that when I heard you were awake, I couldn't wait a moment longer to apologize."

"Apologize?" Tanalasta regarded her mother warily, as surprised now as at their parting less than two months earlier, when the queen had berated her so ferociously for wanting to establish the Royal Temple of Chauntea. "Truly?"

Tanalasta's astonishment seemed to take Filfaeril aback. The queen looked confused for a moment, then let slip an uncharacteristic snort of laughter.

"Not about the temple, my dear! You're still going to have to forget that idea before your father will feel comfortable

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