Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [251]
“Both. Look, they’re going to wonder what’s taking us so long.”
“Let them,” Sarene said. “All the other women have been mooning over Kaloo so much, it’s about time I fell into line.”
Spirit began to chuckle, then he caught the dangerous look in her eyes and let it taper off. “It really was the only way, Sarene. I didn’t have much choice—I had to act the part.”
“I think you acted it a little too well,” she said. Then she smiled, unable to remain angry.
He obviously caught the softening in her eyes, for he untensed. “You have to admit, it was fun at times. I had no idea you were that good of a fencer.”
Sarene smiled slyly. “My talents are plentiful, Spirit. And apparently so are yours—I had no idea you were that good of an actor. I hated you!”
“It’s nice to feel appreciated,” Spirit said, letting his arms wrap around her.
Suddenly she was aware of his close proximity. His body was room temperature, and the unnatural coolness was unnerving. However, rather than pulling away, she let her head rest on his shoulder. “So, why did you come? You should be back in New Elantris, preparing your people. Why risk coming out into Kae?”
“To find you,” he said.
She smiled. That was the right answer.
“And,” he continued, “to keep you all from slaughtering each other. This country certainly is a mess, isn’t it?”
Sarene sighed. “And it’s partially my fault.”
Spirit reached up to put his hands on her neck, rotating her head so she could see into his eyes. His face was different, but those eyes were the same. Deep and blue. How had she ever mistaken him for anyone else?
“You are not allowed to berate yourself, Sarene,” he said. “I get enough of that from Galladon. You’ve done a wonderful job here—better than I could have even imagined. I assumed that these men would stop meeting after I left.”
Sarene paused, shaking herself from the trance of being lost in those eyes. “What was that you just said? After you left …?”
Voices called from the other room, and Spirit winked at her, his eyes twinkling. “We need to go back in. “But … let’s just say I have something else I need to tell you, once the meeting is through and we can speak more privately.”
She nodded in a half daze. Spirit was in Kae, and AonDor worked. She walked back into the dining room and sat down at the table, and Spirit entered the room a few moments later. One chair was still empty, however.
“Where’s Ahan?” Sarene asked.
Kiin frowned. “He left,” he declared in a bitter tone.
Lukel laughed, shooting Sarene a smile. “The count claims that something he ate didn’t agree with him. He … stepped out.”
“It’s impossible,” Kiin grumbled. “There was nothing in those crackers that could have upset his stomach.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t the crackers, Uncle,” Sarene said with a smile. “It must be something he ate before he came.”
Lukel laughed in agreement. “Domi knows, that man eats so much it’s a wonder he doesn’t end up sick every night by pure laws of probability.”
“Well, we should continue without him,” Roial said. “There’s no telling how long he will be indisposed.”
“Agreed,” Sarene said, preparing to begin again.
Roial, however, beat her to it. He stood slowly, his old body looking surprisingly weak. The duke sighed, shaking his head. “If you will all forgive me, I have something to say.”
The nobles nodded, sensing the duke’s solemnity.
“I will not lie to you; I never once debated whether or not action should be taken against Telrii. He and I have spent the last ten years as mercantile enemies. He is a flagrant, wasteful man—he will make a worse king, even, than Iadon. His willingness to even consider Hrathen’s silly proclamation was the final proof I needed.
“No, my reason for demanding more time before we met was not to wonder if we should depose Telrii. The reason I asked for more time was to wait for some … associates of mine to arrive.”
“Associates?” Sarene said.
“Assassins,” Roial said. “Men I have hired out of Fjorden. Not all the people of that country are perfectly loyal to their god—some are sworn to gold instead.”
“Where are they?” Sarene asked.
“Staying