Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [67]
“So what am I supposed to do?” Sarene asked, frowning. She did not like unfulfilled duties hanging over her.
“Oh, hand out some food or blankets to the poor,” Ahan said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No one expects you to take any real interest in the process, it’s just one of the traditions that Iadon decided to hold over from the old days—the Elantrians used to do something similar whenever one of their kind died. I never liked the custom myself. It seems to me we shouldn’t encourage the people to look forward to our deaths; it doesn’t bode well for an aristocrat’s popularity to be at its greatest just after he dies.”
“I think it’s a fine tradition, Lord Ahan,” Eondel said.
Ahan chuckled. “You would, Eondel. You’re so conservative that even your socks are more traditional than the rest of us.”
“I can’t believe no one’s told me about it,” Sarene said, still annoyed.
“Well,” Ahan said, “perhaps somebody would have mentioned it to you if you didn’t spend all of your time holed up in the palace or in Kiin’s house.”
“What else am I supposed to do?”
“Arelon has a fine court, Princess,” Eondel said. “I believe there have been two balls since you arrived, and there is another happening as we speak.”
“Well, why didn’t anyone invite me?” she asked.
“Because you’re in mourning,” Roial explained. “Besides, the invitations only go out to men, who in turn bring their sisters and wives.”
Sarene frowned. “You people are so backward.”
“Not backward, Your Highness,” Ahan said. “Just traditional. If you like, we could arrange to have some men invite you.”
“Wouldn’t that look bad?” Sarene asked. “Me, not even a week widowed, accompanying some young bachelor to a party?”
“She has a point,” Kiin noted.
“Why don’t you all take me?” Sarene asked.
“Us?” Roial asked.
“Yes, you,” Sarene said. “Your Lordships are old enough that people won’t talk too much—you’ll just be introducing a young friend to the joys of court life.”
“Many of these men are married, Your Highness,” Shuden said.
Sarene smiled. “What a coincidence. So am I.”
“Don’t worry about our honor, Shuden,” Roial said. “I’ll make the princess’s intentions known, and as long as she doesn’t go with any one of us too often, no one will infer much from it.”
“Then it’s settled,” Sarene decided with a smile. “I’ll be expecting to hear from each of you, my lords. It’s essential that I get to these parties—if I am ever going to fit into Arelon, then I’ll need to get to know the aristocracy.”
There was general agreement, and the conversation turned to other topics, such as the upcoming lunar eclipse. As they spoke, Sarene realized that her question about the mysterious “Trial” hadn’t yielded much information. She would have to corner Kiin later.
Only one man wasn’t enjoying the conversation or, apparently, the meal. Lord Edan had filled his plate, but had barely taken a few bites. Instead, he poked at his food with dissatisfaction, mixing the different dishes into an adulterated mush only vaguely resembling the delicacies Kiin had prepared.
“I thought we had decided not to meet anymore,” Edan finally blurted out, the comment forcing its way into the conversation like an elk wandering into the middle of a pack of wolves. The others paused, turning toward Edan.
“We had decided not to meet for a while, Lord Edan,” Eondel said. “We never intended to stop meeting completely.”
“You should be happy, Edan,” Ahan said, waving a fork topped with a chunk of pork. “You, of all people, should be eager to keep these meetings going. How long is it before the next taxing period arrives?”
“I believe it is on the first day of Eostek, Lord Ahan,” Eondel said helpfully. “Which would put it just under three months away.”
Ahan smiled. “Thank you, Eondel—you’re such a useful man to have around. Always knowing things that are proper and such. Anyway … three months, Edan. How are the coffers doing? You know how picky the king’s auditors are….”
Edan squirmed even more beneath the count’s brutal mockery. It appeared that he was quite aware of his time constraints—yet, at the same time,