'The king is very wise,' Sarene said, curtsying and backing away.
'I had forgotten about that,' Shuden whispered to her as she rejoined him. 'The act must be quite the burden to maintain.'
'It is useful sometimes,' Sarene said. They were about to withdraw when Sarene noticed a courier approaching the king. She placed her hand on Shuden's arm, indicating that she wanted to wait a moment where she could still hear Iadon.
The messenger whispered something in Iadon's ear, and the king's eyes grew wide with frustration. 'What!'
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 slightIy 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 facade 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 IeveI of… nonchalanee 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, but Domi be cursed if I'm going to let him stay ahead of me.'
IT was late. Shuden had wanted to leave hours ago. but Sarene had been determined to forge on, plowing through hundreds of people. making contacts like a madwoman. She made Shuden introduce her to everyone he knew, and the faces and names had quickly become a blur. However. repetition would bring familiarity.
Eventually, she let Shuden bring her back to the palace. satisfied with the day's events. Shuden let her off and wearily bid her goodnight, claiming he was glad that Ahan was next in line to take her to a ball. 'Your company was delightful,' he explained, 'but I just can't keep up with you!'
Sarene found it hard to keep up with herself sometimes. She practically stumbled her way into the palace, so drowsy with fatigue and wine that she could barely keep her eyes open.
Shouts echoed through the hallway.
Sarene frowned, turning a corner to find the king's guard scrambling around, yelling at one another and generally making a rather large nuisance of themselves. 'What is going on?' she asked, holding her head.
'Someone broke into the palace tonight,' a guard explained. 'Snuck right through the king's bedchambers.'
'Is anyone hurt?' Sarene asked, suddenly coming alert. Iadon and Eshen had left the party hours before her and Shuden.
'Thank Domi, no.' the guard said. Then, he turned to two soldiers. 'Take the princess to her room and stand guard at the door,' he ordered. 'Goodnight, Your Highness. Don't worry-they're gone now.'
Sarene sighed, noting the yelling and bustle of the guards. their armor and weapons clanking as they periodically ran through the hallways. She doubted that she would be able to have a good night with so much ruckus, no matter how tired she was.
CHAPTER 15
At night, when all melted into a uniform blackness, Hrathen could almost see Elantris's grandeur. Silhouetted against the star-filled sky. the fallen buildings cast off their mantle of despair and became memories; memories of a city crafted with skill and care, a city where every stone was a piece of functional art; memories of towers that stretched to the sky-fingers tickling the stars-and of domes that spread like venerable hills.
And it had all been an illusion. Beneath the greatness had been wreckage, a filthy sore now exposed. How easy it was to look past heresies gilded with gold. How simple it had been to assume that outward strength bespoke inward righteousness.
'Dream on, Elantris.' Hrathen whispered, turning to stroll along the top of the great wall that enclosed the city. 'Remember what you used to be and try to hide your sins beneath the blanket of darkness. Tomorrow the sun will rise, and all will be revealed once again.'
'My lord? Did you say something?'
Hrathen turned. He had barely noticed the guard passing him on the wall, the man's heavy spear resting over his shoulder and his wan torch nearly dead. 'No. I was only whispering to myself.'
The guard nodded, continuing his rounds. They were growing accustomed to Hrathen, who had visited Elantris nearly every night this week, pacing its walls in thought. Though he had an additional purpose behind his visit this particular time, most nights he simply came to be alone and think. He wasn't sure what drew him to the city. Part of it was curiosity. He had never beheld Elantris in its power, and couldn't understand how anything-even a city so grand-had repeatedly withstood the might of Fjorden, first militarily, then theologically.
He also felt a responsibility toward the people-or whatever they were-that lived in Elantris. He was using them, holding them up as an enemy to unite his followers. He felt guilty: the Elantrians he had seen were not devils,
