Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [207]
“Your Holiness,” she said. “All of Arelon is blessed by your presence.”
He nodded, as if to say that he understood just how fortunate they all were. He turned toward Shuden and the others. “Who are your companions?”
“My cousin Lukel and Baron Shuden and Count Eondel of Arelon, Your Holiness.” Each man bowed as she made the introductions.
“Only barons and counts?” Seinalan asked with disappointment.
“Duke Roial sends his greetings, Your Grace,” Sarene said. “He is busy preparing for King Iadon’s burial.”
“Ah,” Seinalan said, his luxurious hair—untouched by gray—waving in the sea wind. Sarene had wished many times to have locks half as fine as those of the patriarch. “I assume I am not too late to attend the funeral?”
“No, Your Holiness,” Sarene said. “It will occur this afternoon.”
“Good,” Seinalan said. “Come, you may show me to my lodgings now.”
“That was … disappointing,” Lukel confessed as soon as they climbed back in their carriage. The patriarch had been given his own vehicle, courtesy of Roial, and the gift had cooled his dissatisfaction at the duke’s absence.
“He’s not exactly what you expect, is he?” Sarene said.
“That isn’t what Lukel meant, Sarene,” Shuden said.
Sarene glanced at Lukel. “What do you mean?”
“I was just hoping for something more entertaining,” Lukel said, twin flops of hair bouncing against his cheeks as he shrugged.
“He has been looking forward to this ever since he heard you describe the patriarch, Your Highness,” Eondel explained with a dissatisfied look. “He assumed you two would … argue more.”
Sarene sighed, giving Lukel a withering look. “Just because I don’t like the man doesn’t mean I’m going to make a scene, Cousin. Remember, I was one of my father’s chief diplomats.”
Lukel nodded with resignation.
“I will admit, Sarene,” Shuden said, “your analysis of the patriarch’s personality seems accurate. I am left wondering how such a man could be chosen for such an important position.”
“By mistake,” Sarene said curtly. “Seinalan gained the seat about fifteen years ago, when he was barely your age. It was just after Wulfden became Wyrn, and the leaders of Shu-Korath felt threatened by his vigor. For some reason, they got it into their minds that they needed to elect a patriarch who was just as young as Wulfden—if not younger. Seinalan was the result.”
Shuden raised an eyebrow.
“I agree completely,” Sarene said. “But, I have to give them a bit of credit. Wulfden is said to be one of the most handsome men to ever take the Fjordell throne, and the Korathi leaders wanted someone who would be equally impressive.”
Lukel snorted. “Handsome and pretty are two completely different things, Cousin. Half the women who see that man will love him, the other half will just be jealous.”
Throughout the conversation, Lord Eondel grew progressively more pale. Finally, he found voice for his indignation. “Remember, my lords and lady, this is Domi’s holy chosen vessel.”
“And he couldn’t have picked a vessel more lovely,” Lukel quipped—earning him an elbow in the ribs from Sarene.
“We will try to make our comments more respectful, Eondel,” she apologized. “The patriarch’s looks are unimportant anyway—I’m more interested in why he came.”
“Isn’t a king’s funeral enough of a reason?” Shuden asked.
“Perhaps,” Sarene said, unconvinced, as the carriage pulled to a halt outside the Korathi chapel. “Come on, let’s see His Holiness settled as soon as possible—the funeral is in less than two hours, and after that it appears that I’m getting married.”
With no obvious heir, and with Eshen completely unhinged by her husband’s disgrace and subsequent death, Duke Roial took the burden of the funeral arrangements upon himself.
“Pagan murderer or not, Iadon was once my friend,” the duke had explained. “He brought stability to this country in a time of need. For that much, he at least deserves a decent burial.”
Omin had requested that they not use the Korathi chapel for the services, so Roial decided to use the king’s throne room instead. The choice made Sarene a little uncomfortable—the throne room was the