Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [171]
There was a general air of satisfaction about the women as they listened to Sarene’s praise.
“However, there is one thing that bothers me,” Sarene said, beginning to pace. “I thought you women intended to prove your strength, to show that you were good for more than making the occasional embroidered pillowcase. However, so far only one of you has truly shown me that she wants to change things in Arelon. Torena, tell them what you did today.”
The thin girl yelped slightly as Sarene said her name, then looked sheepishly at her companions. “I went to Elantris with you?”
“Indeed,” Sarene said. “I have invited each woman in this room several times, but only Torena has had the courage to accompany me into Elantris.”
Sarene stopped her pacing to regard the uncomfortable women. None of them would look at her—not even Torena, who appeared to be feeling guilty by association.
“Tomorrow I will go into Elantris again, and this time, no men will accompany me beyond the regular guards. If you really want to show this town that you are as strong as your husbands, you will accompany me.”
Sarene stood in her place, looking over the women. Heads raised hesitantly, eyes focusing on her. They would come. They were frightened near to death, but they would come. Sarene smiled.
The smile, however, was only half genuine. Standing as she was, before them like a general before his troops, she realized something. It was happening again.
It was just like Teod. She could see respect in their eyes; even the queen herself looked to Sarene for advice now. However, respect her as they did, they would never accept her. When Sarene entered a room, it fell silent; when she left, conversations began again. It was as if they thought her above their simple discussions. By serving as a model for what they wanted to become, Sarene had alienated herself from them.
Sarene turned, leaving the women to their practicing. The men were the same. Shuden and Eondel respected her—even considered her a friend—but they would never think about her romantically. Despite his professed annoyance with courtly games of matrimony, Shuden was reacting favorably to Torena’s advances—but he had never once looked at Sarene. Eondel was far older than she, but Sarene could sense his feelings toward her. Respect, admiration, and a willingness to serve. It was as if he didn’t even realize she was a woman.
Sarene knew that she was married now, and shouldn’t be thinking about such things, but it was hard to regard herself as wedded. There had been no ceremony, and she had known no husband. She craved something—a sign that at least some of the men found her attractive, though she never would have responded to any such advances. The point was irrelevant; the men of Arelon feared her as much as they respected her.
She had grown up without affection outside of her family, and it appeared she would continue that way. At least she had Kiin and his family. Still, if she had come to Arelon searching for acceptance, then she had failed. She would have to be content with respect.
A deep, scratchy voice sounded behind her, and Sarene turned to find that Kiin had joined Lukel and Eondel.
“Uncle?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I got home and found the house empty,” Kiin said. “There’s only one person who would dare steal a man’s entire family.”
“She didn’t steal us, Father,” Lukel joked. “We just heard that you were going to make Hraggish weed soup again.”
Kiin regarded his jovial son for a moment, rubbing his chin where his beard once grew. “He got a good sale, then?”
“A very lucrative one,” Eondel said.
“Domi protect us,” Kiin grumbled, settling his stout body into a nearby chair. Sarene took a seat next to him.
“You heard about the king’s projected earnings, ’Ene?” Kiin asked.
“Yes, Uncle.”
Kiin nodded. “I never thought I’d see the day when I was encouraged by Iadon’s success. Your plan to save him worked, and from what I hear, Eondel and the rest are expected to bring forth exemplary crops.”
“Then why do you look so worried?” Sarene