Project Boussh: Epilogue: Mother Love
by Durandir

Llessur Atner had graciously declined to attend the party in 
celebration of the strangers' victory over the ship out in space. 
(Whoever heard of such a thing? In the old days, ships stayed in the 
sea where they belonged, and strangers from distant planets did not 
come calling Enad away to join their wars. It was all just too much.) 
But of course she spent the evening in the west tower, in Enad's old 
study there, where she could sit with her needlework by the window 
and look down on the celebration in the pavilion below.

It was simply appalling, such riotous behavior. Whose idea had it 
been to offer alcohol to those barbaric Ewoks? Anyone with an ounce 
of sense would have known better. The noise was beyond bearing; she 
only hoped she could find a place somewhere in the Palace where it 
did not penetrate the walls, or sleep would be far from her tonight. 
And where had all these people come from, anyway? Her window was low 
enough on the tower that she could easily tell one face from another, 
but still she recognized nearly no one. There was her Thayer, of 
course, who as host of the party was obliged to be in attendance - 
yet he certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. There was Kirret - 
no, Lady Xarim, now that her father and mother were dead - and yes, 
there were a few others of the noble classes. But terribly few, 
amidst what seemed to be all the rabble of Mendel City and this New 
Republic combined. It was an affront to decent society.

And the dancing. Formless and void it seemed: bodies moving as if 
they hadn't the least notion where they were going. Though, given the 
music to which they danced, how could they know?

Then there was a sort of rippling in the middle of the undulating 
mass of dancers, and Llessur blinked in surprise at what she saw. 
Why, it was Thayer! Waltzing, actually waltzing, quite indifferent to 
the ludicrous music and the crowd around him. Then his partner, 
laughing, glanced up, and Llessur caught a glance of the face before 
Thayer swept her away through the crowd--

Oh, sweet heavens. Her.

Annoyed now, Llessur turned to her needlework with a fury. Whatever 
was Thayer thinking, to take up with such a person? After all 
Llessur's hopes and dreams for her son, after all the years of exile 
when she might have given anything only to see him once more before 
she died: then to come home to this! Such a scandal it would make, 
were Enad still alive. It was sure to be a scandal all the same, at 
least among those of Enad's generation who remained alive after 
Eugor's reign.

And Kirret! Why, Thayer and Kirret had been inseparable for years. It 
was common knowledge in and around the Palace that Lord Xarim's 
daughter was to be the next Queen. Why had they abandoned that dream?

Llessur glanced out again, and there was young Lady Xarim herself, 
arm in arm with that commoner of hers. Thayer and she were possessed 
of the same malady, it seemed. Was there no cure?

And still Thayer and his girl dancing. It shouldn't be possible to 
keep a waltz up so long with the music so contrary, but there they 
were. Lovely Viennese turns - so many, and still going! Dizziness 
wasn't stopping them. Oh, but from the looks she'd seen them give one 
another, they must have begun the dance in such a state of dizziness 
that no number of turns could really make their heads spin any more. 
She was light on her feet, Thayer's girl; Llessur would grant that 
much. Dancing, they made a lovely couple: she didn't look so plain 
and common in his arms. For a while the Queen watched the dance with 
something approaching wistfulness. What exactly did Thayer see in the 
girl? She wished she might see it, too...

But despite the improvements imposed by the dance, there was still no 
escaping her commonness. It was a pity, too - when Thayer smiled at 
her so, Llessur could see Enad in the boy's eyes. But that was just 
it: he was no longer a boy, free to follow his desires. The 
Dictator's wife would be Queen, and if Thayer was inclined to 
disregard that little detail, then Llessur must be the one to act.

Perhaps Thayer's judgment would prove just after all: perhaps there 
*was* a nobility to the girl, something to assure she might well rule 
beside him. Llessur would look for it. She would try. But if not - 
well, for the good of the country, the Dictator must marry well. 
There must be a cure for the malady of love, and Llessur would have 
to find it.