"The most ridiculous part is that it doesn't even matter, dynastically speaking, who the children's father is," Tor said as he tossed a pebble into the Lake of Dreams and watched the ripples spread across its deceptively inviting surface; "Aerin has always had a better claim on the throne than I do."

"Yes, but people do prefer a world where they can fold concepts into neatly organized mental cabinets, rather like folding freshly laundered linens," Luthe said without raising his head from Aerin's lap, "and 'The king rules by right of inheritance,' is tidier than 'The king rules because the queen was unofficially disinherited and then vanished to fight a sorcerer,' to say nothing of 'The king and queen have rejoined the royal bloodlines,' being tidier than 'The king and queen have made the vaguely ominous wizard of the mountains into their mutual lover and potentially diluted the bloodline.'"

Aerin snorted inelegantly; "If being ominous were a race, you wouldn't even be at the starting line, and in any case I don't see why I should worry about fitting neatly into people's preconceptions now," she said, and held out her hand to draw Tor back down to her side.