'You've never seen me before in your life. Now, about those shoes…
'They have to fit perfectly, without a bit of scraping or rubbing?' Mareshe asked.
'I know it sounds difficult. If it's beyond your ability..'
'Nothing is beyond my ability,' Mareshe said. 'I'll do it, Master Spirit.' 'Excellent.'
'They're not leaving,' Galladon said from behind them.
Raoden turned to regard the large Dula. 'What does it matter? It's not like we have anything pressing to do. It's actually quite pleasant up here-you should just sit back and enjoy it.'
An ominous crash came from the clouds above them, and Raoden felt a wet drop splat against his head.
'Fantastic,' Galladon grumbled. 'I'm enjoying myself already.'
CHAPTER 8
Sarene decided not to accept her uncle's offer to stay with him. As tempting as it was to move in with his family, she was afraid of losing her foothold in the palace. The court was a lifeline of information. and the Arelish nobility were a fountain of gossip and intrigue. If she was going to do battle with Hrathen, she would need to stay up to date.
So it was that the day after her meeting with Kiin, Sarene procured herself an easel and paints, and set them up directly in the middle of Iadon's throne room.
'What in the name of Domi are you doing, girl!' the king exclaimed as he entered the room that morning, a group of apprehensive attendants at his side.
Sarene looked up from her canvas with imitation surprise. 'I'm painting, Father,' she said, helpfully holding up her brush-an action that sprayed droplets of red paint across the chancellor of defense's face.
Iadon sighed. 'I can see that you're painting. I meant why are you doing it here?' 'Oh.' Sarene said innocently. 'I'm painting your paintings, Father. I do like them so.'
'You're painting my…?' Iadon asked with a dumbfounded expression. 'But…'
Sarene turned her canvas with a proud smile, showing the king a painting that only remotely resembled a picture of some flowers.
'Oh for Domi's sake!' Iadon bellowed. 'Paint if you must, girl. Just don't do it in the middle of my throne room!'
Sarene opened her eyes wide, blinked a few times, then pulled her easel and chair over to the side of the room near one of the pillars, sat down, and continued to paint.
Iadon groaned. 'I meant… Bah, Domi curse it! You're not worth the effort.' With that, the king turned and stalked over to his throne and ordered his secretary to announce the first item of' business-a squabble between two minor nobles over some possessions.
Ashe hovered down next to Sarene's canvas, speaking to her softly. 'I thought he was going to expel you for good, my lady.'
Sarene shook her head, a self-congratulatory smile on her lips. 'Iadon has a
quick temper, and grows frustrated with ease. The more I convince him of my brainlessness, the fewer orders he's going to give me. He knows I'll just misunderstand him, and he'll just end up aggravated.'
'I am beginning to wonder how one such as he obtained the throne in the first place,' Ashe noted.
'A good point,' Sarene admitted, tapping her cheek in thought. 'Though, perhaps we aren't giving him enough credit. He might not make a very good king, but he was apparently a very good businessman. To him. I'm an expended resource-he has his treaty. I'm just of no further concern.'
'I'm not convinced, my lady,' Ashe noted. 'He seems too shortsighted to remain king for long.'
'Which is why he's probably going to lose his throne,' Sarene said. 'I suspect that is why the gyorn is here.'
'A good point, my lady.' Ashe noted in his deep voice. He floated in front of her painting for a moment, studying its irregular blotches and semistraight lines. 'You're getting better, my lady.'
'Don't patronize me.'
'No, really, Your Highness. When you started painting five years ago, I could never tell what it was you were trying to depict.'
'And this is a painting of..'
Ashe paused. 'A bowl of fruit?' he asked hopefully.
Sarene sighed in frustration. She was usually good at everything she tried, but the secrets of painting completely eluded her. At first, she had been astounded at her lack of talent, and she had pressed on with a determination to prove herself. Artistic technique, however, had totally refused to bow beneath her royal will. She was a master of politics, an unquestionable leader, and could grasp even Jindoeese mathematics with ease. She was also a horrible painter. Not that she let it stop her-she was also undeniably stubborn.
'One of these days, Ashe, something will click, and I'll figure out how to make the images in my head appear on canvas.'
'Of course, my lady.'
Sarene smiled. 'Until then, let's just pretend I was trained by someone from some Svordish school of extreme abstractionism.'
'Ah yes. The school of creative misdirection. Very good, my lady.'
Two men entered the throne room to present their case to the king. There was little to distinguish them: both wore fashionable vests over colorful filled shirts and loose. wide-cuffed trousers. Much more interesting to Sarene was a third man. one who was brought into the room by a palace guard. He was a nondescript. light-haired man of Aonic blood dressed in a simple brown smock. It was obvious that he was horribly underfed, and there was a look of despairing hopelessness in his eyes that Sarene found haunting.
The dispute regarded the peasant. Apparently, he had escaped from one of the noblemen about three years ago, but had been captured by the second. Instead of returning the man, the second noble had kept him and put him to work. The argument wasn't over the peasant himself, however, but his children. He had married about two years ago, and had fathered two children during his stay with the second noble. Both nobles claimed ownership of the babies.
'I thought slavery was illegal in Arelon,' Sarene said quietly.
'It is, my Iady,' Ashe said with a confused voice. 'I don't understand.'
'They speak of figurative ownership, Cousin,' a voice said from in front of her. Sarene peeked around the side of her canvas with surprise. Lukel. Kiin's oldest son, stood smiling beside her easel.
'Lukel! What are you doing here?'
'I'm one of the most successful merchants in the city, Cousin,' he explained, walking around the canvas to regard the painting with a raised eyebrow. 'I have an open invitation to the court. I'm surprised you didn't see me when you came in.'
'You were there?'
Lukel nodded. 'I was near the back, reacquainting myself with some old contacts. I've been out of town for some time.'
'Why didn't you say anything?'
'I was too interested in what you were doing,' he said with a smile. 'I don't think anyone has ever decided to requisition the middle of Iadon's throne room to use as an art studio.'
Sarene felt herself blushing. 'It worked, didn't it?'
'Beautifully-which is more than I can say for the painting.' He paused for a moment. 'It's a horse, right?'
Sarene scowled.
'A house?' he asked.
'It is not a bowl of fruit either, my lord,' Ashe said. 'I already tried that.' 'Well, she said it was one of the paintings in this room,' Lukel said. 'All we have to do is keep guessing until we find the right one.'
'Brilliant deduction, Master Lukel.-. Ashe said.
'That's enough, you two,' Sarene growled. 'It's the one across from us. The one I was facing while I painted.'
