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everyday wear of her maidens and other noble
women.
    As Queen, one made use of finger-bowl
and face towel as appropriate, but cleanliness was next to
Godliness some said. If nothing else it was a private act and a
private moment where none could make demands upon her limited
time.
    It was a habit and one she found some
small comfort in. It was a very human thing. It was humbling. A
sovereign needed reminding that all men were flesh and blood and
had much more in common besides that.
    Taez and the barbarian prince preyed on
her mind. His analysis of policy was good, but she had never
thought of him in terms of ministerial status. He ran his
department well enough and hadn’t exhibited any real signs of great
ambition previously. To read too much into it might be
unwise.
    He saw a chance to please me, and he
took it. Surely he was aware of the risks and had confidence in his
sovereign. Either that, or Taez takes me for an awful fool. There
was a third possibility, that Taez was a fool. There was always
that.
    What the people thought of their king
or queen was vital. Public opinion could be a real
killer.
    A glance in the mirror revealed that
Eleanora was alone. This didn’t happen often enough in her peculiar
little world. Everyone was always so eager to please, and hanging
on her every word, constantly flattering her, and earnestly trying
to analyze every little nuance of her language and her posture. Any
little shift in her expression was enough to send a shock wave
through an assembly.
    Gods, how she was so terribly tired of
it all. The one thing she could never do was to escape.
    Such thoughts merely endangered her and
all of her people.
    She lifted the bolt and stepped into
the short, arched hallway that led to her outer
bedchamber.
    If it was suspiciously quiet in there,
in spite of two dozen or more young and high-spirited maidens and
all of their natural buoyancy, at first she just plain missed
it.
    Her head was just so far away these
days.
     
    ***
     
    The first thing that caught her
attention was Theodelinda, up on tiptoes on the other side of a sea
of heads, waving madly, and then Eleanora remembered.
    The chattering bodies parted and she
was confronted by the towering barbarian, facing away from her and
restrained by his handlers. It went very quiet, with stifled coughs
and giggles.
    The handlers bowed their heads, bending
their knees slightly.
    “ Oh, yes. Lowren, the King
of the Lemni.”
    Shining eyes and glowing faces
surrounded them as Eleanora stepped coolly inwards and came around
for a closer look.
    He seemed so calm. She could not help
but look into those eyes, where she saw the most extraordinary
thing.
    Humor beckoned in there, and something
else too—mischief.
    He smiled at Eleanora, which came as
something of a shock to the system.
    “ Good evening, Majesty. I
bring you greetings from the people of Lemnia.”
    Bobbing their heads in feasance as best
they could, the two handlers quickly removed his collar and chains.
Eleanora’s jaw dropped and more than one of the girls shrieked in
either mock or real surprise. The handlers stepped back and went
and stood by the front wall.
    “ What—”
    A loud knock came at the
door.
    Lowren rubbed his wrists where the
shackles had been removed and looked around at the main door to the
regal apartments.
    The door opened. A man stuck his head
in.
    Eleanora stood, stunned beyond belief
to see a stranger enter her chambers unbidden. He locked gaze with
Lowren.
    “ All secure, Sire.” He
glanced rather longingly at the ladies and then quietly closed the
door again.
    He left a rather confusing tableaux
behind, as all the ladies began talking at once and Lowren and
Eleanora took their first real good look at each other.
    “ Silence!” Eleanora didn’t
know whether to laugh, or to cry, or to simply let loose with all
the furies of hell—upon this hairy, half-naked man who stood in a
ladies bed-chamber with the most insouciant air.
    Lowren struck a pose, engaged