"My… lady?" Ashe said quietly. "Is something wrong?"
Sarene waved to the Seon and walked back toward their carriage. "I don't know," she said quietly. "Something just doesn't feel right here, Ashe."
"You have a suspicious nature, my lady,' Ashe pointed out.
"Why isn't Iadon having a vigil for his son? Ketol said he was holding court. as if his own son's death didn't even bother him." Sarene shook her head. 'I spoke with Raoden just before I left Teod, and he seemed fine. Something is wrong, Ashe. and I want to know what it is."
`Oh, dear.. Ashe said. "You know, my lady, your father did ask me to try and keep you out of trouble."
Sarene smiled. "Now, there's an impossible task. Come on, we need to go meet my new father."
SARENE leaned against the carriage window, watching the city pass as she rode toward the palace. She sat in silence for the moment, a single thought crowding everything else out of her mind.
What am I doing here?
Her words to Ashe had been confident, but she had always been good at hiding her worries. True, she was curious about the prince's death, but Sarene knew herself very well. A large part of that curiosity was an attempt to take her mind off of her feelings of inferiority and awkwardness-anything to keep from acknowledging what she was: a lanky, brusque woman who was almost past her prime. She was twenty-five years old; she should have been married years ago. Raoden had been her last chance.
How dare you die on me, prince of Arelon! Sarene thought indignantly. Yet, the irony did not escape her. It was fitting that this man, one she had thought she might actually grow to like, would die before she even got to meet him. Now she was alone in an unfamiliar country, politically bound to a king she did not trust. It was a daunting, lonely feeling.
You've been lonely before, Sarene, she reminded herself. You'll get through it. Just find something to occupy your mind. You have an entire new court to explore. Enjoy it.
With a sigh, Sarene turned her attention back to the city. Despite considerable experience serving in her father's diplomatic corps, she had never visited Arelon. Ever since the fall of Elantris, Arelon had been unofficially quarantined by most other kingdoms. No one knew why the mystical city had been cursed, and everyone worried that the Elantrian disease might spread.
Sarene was surprised, however, by the lushness she saw in Kae. The city thoroughfares were wide and well maintained. The people on the street were well dressed, and she didn't see a single beggar. To one side, a group of blue-robed Korathi priests walked quietly through the crowd, leading an odd, white-robed person. She watched the procession, wondering what it could be, until the group disappeared around a corner.
From her vantage, Kae reflected none of the economic hardship Arelon was
supposed to be suffering. The carriage passed dozens of fenced-in mansions, each one built in a different style of architecture. Some were expansive, with large wings and pointed roofs, following Duladen construction. Others were more like castles, their stone walls looking as if they had been directly transported from the militaristic countryside of Fjorden. The mansions all shared one thing. however: wealth. The people of this country might be starving, but Kae-seat of Arelon's aristocracy-didn't appear to have noticed.
Of course. one disturbing shadow still hung over the city. The enormous wall of Elantris rose in the distance, and Sarene shivered as she glanced at its stark. imposing stones. She had heard stories about Elantris for most of her adult life, tales of the magics it had once produced and the monstrosities that now inhabited its dark streets. No matter how gaudy the houses, no matter how wealthy the streets, this one monument stood as a testament that all was not well in Arelon.
"Why do they even live here. I wonder?" Sarene asked.
"My lady?" Ashe asked.
"Why did King Iadon build his palace in Kae? Why choose a city that is so close to Elantris?"
"I suspect the reasons are primarily economic, my lady." Ashe said. "There are only a couple of viable ports on the northern Arelish coast, and this is the finest."
Sarene nodded. The bay formed by the merging of the Aredel River with the ocean made for an enviable harbor. But even still…
"Perhaps the reasons are political." Sarene mused. "Iadon took power during turbulent times-maybe he thinks that remaining close to the old capital will lend him authority."
"Perhaps. my lady," Ashe said.
It's not like it really matters that much, she thought. Apparently. proximity to Elantris-or Elantrians-didn't actually increase one's chances of being taken by the Shaod.
She turned away from the window. looking over at Ashe. who hovered above the seat beside her. She had yet to see a Seon in the streets of Kae, though the creatures-said to be the ancient creations of Elantris magic-were supposed to be even more common in Arelon than in her homeland. If she squinted, she could barely make out the glowing Aon at the center of Ashe's light.
"At least the treaty is safe," Sarene finally said.
"Assuming you remain in Arelon, my lady," Ashe said in his deep voice. "At least, that is what the wedding contract says. As long as you stay here, and 'remain faithful to your husband,' King Iadon must honor his alliance with Teod."
"Remain faithful to a dead man," Sarene mumbled with a sigh. "Well, that means I have to stay. husband or no husband."
"If you say so, my lady."
"We need this treaty, Ashe," Sarene said. "Fjorden is expanding its influence at
an incredible rate. Five years ago I would have said we didn't need to worry, that Fjorden's priests would never be a power in Arelon. But now…" Sarene shook her head. The collapse of the DuIaden Republic had changed so much.
"We shouldn't have kept ourselves so removed from Arelon these last ten years, Ashe." she said. "I probably wouldn't be in this predicament if we had forged strong ties with the new Arelish government ten years ago."
"Your father was afraid their political turmoil would infect Teod," Ashe said. 'Not to mention the Reod-no one was certain that whatever struck the Elantrians wouIdn't affect normal people as well."
The carriage slowed, and Sarene sighed, letting the topic drop. Her father knew that Fjorden was a danger. and he understood that old allegiances needed to be reforged: that was why she was in Arelon. Ahead of them, the palace gates swung open. Friendless or not, she had arrived, and Teod was depending on her. She had to prepare Arelon for the war that was coming-a war that had become inevitable the moment Elantris fell.
Sarene's new father. King Iadon of Arelon, was a thin man with a shrewd face. He was conferring with several of his administrators when Sarene entered the throne room, and she stood unnoticed for nearly fifteen minutes before he even nodded to her. Personally, she didn't mind the wait-it gave her a chance to observe the man she was now sworn to obey-but her dignity couldn't help being a little offended by the treatment. Her station as a princess of Teod alone should have earned her a reception that was, if not grand, at least punctual.
As she waited, one thing struck her immediately. Iadon did not look like a man mourning the passing of his son and heir. There was no sign of grief in his eyes, none of the haggard fatigue that generally accompanied the passing of a loved one. In fact, the air of the court itself seemed remarkably free of mourning signs.
Is Iadon a heartless man, then? Sarene wondered curiously. Or is he simply one who knows how to control his emotions?
Years spent in her father's court had taught Sarene to be a connoisseur of noble character. Though she couldn't hear what Iadon was saying-she had been told to stay near the back of the room and wait for permission to approach-the king's actions and mannerisms gave her an idea of his character. Iadon spoke firmly, giving direct instruction, occasionally pausing to stab his table map with a thin finger. He was a man with a strong personality, she decided-one with a definite idea of how he wanted things done. It wasn't a bad sign. Tentatively, Sarene decided that this was a man with whom she might be able to work.