Chapter 26
The Ruse
Two hours before midnight a golden-haired figure in an aqua gown shot with silver threads appeared in the corridor outside Tanis’s door and flashed a dazzling smile at the guard.
“Hello,” she said, then hesitated prettily, a movement she’d been practicing in the mirror in her room for the past hour.
The guard blushed. Lauralanthalasa knew he’d seen her from afar before, of course, but he’d never been this close to the Speaker’s daughter.
“Uh,” he said. “Hello.”
She smiled again. “Aren’t you supposed to say ‘Who goes there?’ ” she asked lightly.
The honey-blond elf, about Gilthanas’s age, swallowed and grinned lopsidedly. “But … I know who you are,” he whispered. “Um, so why ask?”
“Oh.” Laurana let her eyelids droop, then gave him a sidelong glance. “That’s very wise.”
Her voice oozed admiration—just the amount that Flint had declared necessary. “The guard will never buy it,” she’d argued, only the hour before in her quarters. “How stupid do you think the palace guards are?”
But the dwarf had insisted, saying only, “Trust me. I’ve seen the way the elven lads watch you.” She’d blushed. Flint had continued, “You’ll knock the guard out of his ceremonial boots.”
“Oh, Flint, don’t be ridiculous,” she’d snapped.
But now she wasn’t so sure. The guard looked positively weak in the knees. Ascribing his reaction to a mild case of indigestion from a rich Kentommen feast, she said sweetly, “I need to see Tanthalas, please.” She looked demurely away. (“Flint, he will never swallow this!” she’d protested. “Trust me,” the dwarf had repeated.)
The guard looked suddenly miserable. “I can’t let anyone in.”
Laurana let her features fall into disappointment. “Not even me?” she whispered. “It’s so very, very important.” She hoped her eyes were filling with the tears that Flint had declared crucial. But even more, she hoped she wouldn’t giggle.
Now came the dangerous move. She reached forward quickly and plucked the large key-ring out of the guard’s front pocket and smoothly slipped the key in the lock. “Oh, I’m sure it’s all right,” she said, letting a note of supplication enter her voice. “Here …”
But the guard reverted to training, grabbing her gently but firmly by her wrists and backing her away from the door. “I’m sorry, Princess, but I have my orders.” He sounded sincerely regretful, to Laurana’s surprise.
She took several tentative steps backward, drawing him farther from Tanis’s door. “Oh, I just hoped …” She let her voice trail off and thought very hard about the pet kitten who had died when she was a little girl. Thankfully, she felt tears finally rise in her green eyes, and she blinked, causing one huge drop to slip down her cheek.
The guard, obviously feeling like a heel, released her wrists and watched as she stepped femininely away, dabbing her already dry eyes with a linen kerchief. Just as he turned to resume his post at the door, she stumbled and cried out. (“Not loud enough to bring anyone else into the corridor!” Flint had demanded. “Just enough to convince the guard and cover a bit of noise.”)
The young guard was at her side in seconds, supporting her with an arm slipped quickly around her waist. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Oh, my ankle,” she whimpered, feeling like an idiot. “It’s these shoes.” (“Flint!” she’d protested. “I haven’t worn these shoes in years!” “All the better to fall off of,” he’d replied.) She whimpered again.
Behind the guard, a short figure with a rope ladder and a leather sack slung over one shoulder whisked around the corner, twisted the key to unlock Tanis’s door, and slipped inside, leaving the key in the lock. The door would be unlocked now, Laurana realized, hoping the guard wouldn’t try it when he returned the key ring to his pocket.
Laurana assured the guard that she would be able to make it back to her room. She thanked him profusely for his help. Then she walked slowly down the corridor and back to her room, trying to remember to limp.