Elantris - Brandon Sanderson [95]
The man moved to whisper again, and the king pushed him back. “Just say it, man. I can’t stand all that whispering.”
“It happened just this week, Your Majesty,” the man explained.
Sarene edged closer.
“How odd.” A slightly accented voice suddenly drifted in their direction. Hrathen stood a short distance away. He wasn’t watching them, but somehow he was directing his voice at the king—as if he were intentionally allowing his words to be overheard. “I wouldn’t have thought the king would discuss important matters where the dull-minded can hear. Such people tend to be so confused by events that it is a disservice to allow them the opportunity.”
Most of the people around her didn’t even appear to have heard the gyorn’s comment. The king, however, had. Iadon regarded Sarene for a moment, then grabbed his messenger by the arm and strode quickly from the room, leaving a startled Eshen behind. As Sarene watched the king leave, Hrathen’s eyes caught her own, and he smiled slightly before turning back to his companions.
“Can you believe that?” Sarene said, fuming. “He did that on purpose!”
Shuden nodded. “Often, my lady, our deceptions turn on us.”
“The gyorn is good,” Roial said. “It’s always a masterful stroke when you can turn someone’s guise to your advantage.”
“I have often found that no matter what the circumstance, it is most useful to be oneself,” Shuden said. “The more faces we try to wear, the more confused they become.”
Roial nodded slightly, smiling. “True. Boring, perhaps, but true.”
Sarene was barely listening. She had assumed that she was the one doing the manipulating; she had never realized the disadvantage it gave her. “The façade is troubling,” she admitted. Then she sighed, turning back to Shuden. “But I am stuck with it, at least with the king. Honestly though, I doubt he would have regarded me any other way, no matter how I acted.”
“You’re probably right,” Shuden said. “The king is rather shortsighted when it comes to women.”
The king returned a few moments later, his face dark, his humor obviously ruined by whatever news he had received. The courier escaped with a look of relief, and as he left, Sarene caught sight of a new figure entering the room. Duke Telrii was customarily pompous in bright reds and golds, his fingers speckled with rings. Sarene watched him closely, but he didn’t join—or even acknowledge—the gyorn Hrathen. In fact, he seemed to doggedly ignore the priest, instead making the proper hostly overtures, visiting with each group of guests in turn.
“You’re right, Lord Roial,” Sarene finally said.
Roial looked up from his conversation with Shuden. “Hum?”
“Duke Telrii,” Sarene said, nodding to the man. “There’s something between him and the gyorn.”
“Telrii is a troublesome one,” Roial said. “I’ve never quite been able to figure out his motivations. At times, it seems he wants nothing more than coin to pad his coffers. At others …”
Roial trailed off as Telrii, as if noticing their study of him, turned toward Sarene’s group. He smiled and drifted in their direction, Atara at his side. “Lord Roial,” he said with a smooth, almost uncaring, voice. “Welcome. And, Your Highness. I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.”
Roial did the honors. Sarene curtsied as Telrii sipped at his wine and exchanged pleasantries with Roial. There was a startling level of … nonchalance about him. While few noblemen actually cared about the topics they discussed, most had the decency to at least sound interested. Telrii made no such concession. His tone was flippant, though not quite to the level of being insulting, and his manner uninterested. Beyond the initial address, he completely ignored Sarene, obviously satisfied that she was of no discernible significance.
Eventually, the duke sauntered away, and Sarene watched him go with annoyance. If there was one thing she loathed, it was being ignored. Finally, she sighed and turned to her companion. “All right, Lord Shuden, I want to mingle. Hrathen has a week’s lead,