Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [225]
“Not anymore,” Sarene said. “He and Ahan’s daughter are growing very close.”
“Shuden and Torena?” Spirit asked, even more dumbfounded. Then, he regarded Sarene with narrowed eyes. “Wait a moment—how were you going to marry Roial? I thought you were already married.”
“To a dead man,” Sarene huffed.
“But your wedding contract said you could never marry again.”
“How did you know that?” Sarene asked with narrowed eyes.
“You explained it just a few minutes ago.”
“I did not.”
“Sure you did—didn’t she, Galladon?”
The large Dula, who was flipping through Sarene’s political book, didn’t even look up. “Don’t look at me, sule. I’m not getting involved.”
“Anyway,” Spirit said, turning away from his friend. “How is it that you were going to marry Roial?”
“Why not?” Sarene asked. “I never knew this Raoden. Everyone says he was a fine prince, but what do I owe him? My contract with Arelon dissolved when Iadon died; the only reason I made the treaty in the first place was to provide a link between Arelon and my homeland. Why would I honor a contract with a dead man when I could form a more promising one with the future king of Arelon?”
“So you only agreed to marry the prince for politics.” His tone sounded hurt for some reason, as if her relationship with the crown prince of Arelon reflected directly on its aristocracy.
“Of course,” Sarene said. “I am a political creature, Spirit. I did what was best for Teod—and for the same reason I was going to marry Roial.”
He nodded, still looking a bit melancholy.
“So, I was in the throne room, ready to marry the duke,” Sarene continued, ignoring Spirit’s pique. What right did he have to question her motives? “And that was exactly when the Shaod took me.”
“Right then?” Spirit asked. “It happened at your wedding?”
Sarene nodded, suddenly feeling very insecure. It seemed that every time she was about to find acceptance, something disastrous alienated her once again.
Galladon snorted. “Well, now we know why she didn’t want to talk about it. Kolo?”
Spirit’s hand found her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s over now,” Sarene said with a shake of her head. “We need to worry about Telrii’s coronation. With Fjorden supporting him …”
“We can worry about Telrii, but I doubt there’s anything we can do. If only there were a way to contact the outside!”
Suddenly ashamed, Sarene’s eyes darted up to where Ashe hid in the room’s shadows, his Aon nearly invisible. “There might be a way,” she admitted.
Spirit looked up as Sarene waved to Ashe. Ashe started to glow, the Aon’s light expanding into a luminescent ball around him. As the Seon floated down to hover above her desk, Sarene shot Spirit an embarrassed look.
“A Seon?” he said appreciatively.
“You’re not angry at me for hiding him?” Sarene asked.
Spirit chuckled. “In all honesty, Sarene, I expected you to hold some things back from me. You seem like the type of person who needs secrets, if only for the sake of having them.”
Sarene blushed slightly at the astute comment. “Ashe, go check with Kiin and the others. I want to know the moment Telrii declares himself king.”
“Yes, my lady,” Ashe said, hovering away.
Spirit fell silent. He hadn’t commented on Ashe’s inexplicable lack of Shaod madness—but, of course, Spirit couldn’t know that Ashe had been Sarene’s own Seon.
They waited in silence, and Sarene didn’t interrupt Spirit’s thoughts. She had given him an overwhelming mass of information, and she could see his mind picking through it behind his eyes.
He was hiding things from her as well. Not that she mistrusted him. Whatever his secrets were, he probably felt he had a good reason for keeping them. She had been involved with politics far too long to take the holding of secrets as a personal offense.
That didn’t, of course, mean she wasn’t going to find out what she could. So far, Ashe hadn’t been able to discover anything about a second son of Ien Plantation