Adolin nodded, but Dalinar sat back, disturbed. I’m sorry, he thought to whatever force was sending the visions. But I have to be wise.
In a way, this seemed like a second test to him. The visions had told him to trust Sadeas. Well, he would see what happened.
“… and then it faded,” Dalinar said. “After that, I found myself back here.”
Navani raised her pen, looking thoughtful. It hadn’t taken him long to talk through the vision. She’d scribed expertly, picking out details from him, knowing when to prod for more. She hadn’t said a thing about the irregularity of the request, nor had she seemed amused by his desire to write down one of his delusions. She’d been businesslike and careful. She sat at his writing desk now, hair bound up in curls and crossed with four hair-spikes. Her dress was red, matched by her lip paint, and her beautiful violet eyes were curious.
Stormfather, Dalinar thought, but she’s beautiful.
“Well?” Adolin asked. He stood leaning against the door out of the chamber. Renarin had gone off to collect a highstorm damage report. The lad needed practice at that sort of activity.
Navani raised an eyebrow. “What was that, Adolin?”
“What do you think, Aunt?” Adolin asked.
“I have never heard of any of these places or events,” Navani said. “But I believe you weren’t expecting to me to know of them. Didn’t you say you wished me to contact Jasnah?”
“Yes,” Adolin said. “But surely you have analysis.”
“I reserve judgment, dear,” Navani said, standing up and folding the paper by pressing down with her safehand, holding it in place while she creased the fold tight. She smiled, walking by Adolin and patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s see what Jasnah says before we do any analyzing, shall we?”
“I suppose,” Adolin said. He sounded dissatisfied.
“I spent some time talking with that young lady of yours yesterday,” Navani noted to him. “Danlan? I think you’ve made a wise choice. She’s got a mind in that head of hers.”
Adolin perked up. “You like her?”
“Quite a bit,” Navani said. “I also discovered that she is very fond of avramelons. Did you know that?”
“I didn’t, actually.”
“Good. I would have hated to do all that work to find you a means of pleasing her, only to discover that you already knew it. I took the liberty of purchasing a basket of the melons on my way here. You’ll find them in the antechamber, watched over by a bored soldier who didn’t look like he was doing anything important. If you were to visit her with them this afternoon, I think you’d find yourself very well received.”
Adolin hesitated. He probably knew that Navani was deflecting him from worrying over Dalinar. However, he relaxed, then started smiling. “Well, that might make for a pleasant change, considering events lately.”
“I thought it might,” Navani said. “I’d suggest going soon; those melons are perfectly ripe. Besides, I wish to speak with your father.”
Adolin kissed Navani fondly on the cheek. “Thank you, Mashala.” He allowed her to get away with some things that others could not; around his favored aunt, he was much like a child again. Adolin’s smile widened as he made his way out the door.
Dalinar found himself smiling as well. Navani knew his son well. His smile didn’t last long, however, as he realized that Adolin’s departure left him alone with Navani. He stood up. “What is it you wished to ask of me?” he asked.
“I didn’t say I wanted to ask anything of you, Dalinar,” she said. “I just wanted to talk. We are family, after all. We don’t spend enough time together.”
“If you wish to speak, I shall fetch some soldiers to accompany us.” He glanced at the antechamber outside. Adolin had shut the second door at the end, closing off his view of his guards – and their view of him.
“Dalinar,” she said, walking up to him. “That would kind of defeat the point of sending Adolin away. I was after some privacy.”
He felt himself growing stiff. “You should go now.”
“Must I?”
“Yes. People will think this is inappropriate. They will talk.”
“You imply that something inappropriate could happen, then?” Navani said, sounding almost girlishly eager.
“Navani, you are my sister.”
“We aren’t related by blood,” she replied. “In some kingdoms, a union between us would be mandated by tradition, once your brother died.”
“We aren’t in other countries. This is Alethkar. There are rules.”
“I see,” she said, strolling closer to him. “And what will you do if I don’t go? Will you call for help? Have me hauled away?”
“Navani,” he said sufferingly. “Please. Don’t do this again. I’m tired.”
“Excellent. That might make it easier to get what I want.”
He closed his eyes. I can’t take this right now. The vision, the confrontation with Adolin, his own uncertain emotions… He didn’t know what to make of things any longer.
Testing the visions was a good decision, but he couldn’t shake the disorientation he felt from being unable to decide what to do next. He liked to make decisions and stick to them. He couldn’t do that.
It grated on him.
“I thank you for your scribing and for your willingness to keep this quiet,” he said, opening his eyes. “But I really must ask you to leave now, Navani.”
“Oh, Dalinar,” she said softly. She was close enough that he could smell her perfume. Stormfather, but she was beautiful. Seeing her brought to his mind thoughts of days long past, when he’d desired her so strongly that he’d nearly grown to hate Gavilar for winning her affection.
“Can’t you just relax,” she asked him, “just for a little while?”
“The rules–”
“Everyone else–”
“I cannot be everyone else!” Dalinar said, more sharply than he intended. “If I ignore our code and ethics, what am I, Navani? The other highprinces and lighteyes deserve recrimination for what they do, and I have let them know it. If I abandon my principles, then I become something far worse than they. A hypocrite!”
She froze.
“Please,” he said, tense with emotion. “Just go. Do not taunt me today.”
She hesitated, then walked away without a word.
She would never know how much he wished her to have made one more objection. In his state, he likely would have been unable to argue further. Once the door shut, he let himself sit down in his chair, exhaling. He closed his eyes.
Almighty above, he thought. Please. Just let me know what I am to do.
53
Dunny
“He must pick it up, the fallen title! The tower, the crown, and the spear!”
A razor-edged arrow snapped into the wood next to Kaladin’s face. He could feel warm blood seep from a gash on his cheek, creeping down his face, mixing with the sweat dripping from his chin.
“Stay firm!” he bellowed, charging over the uneven ground, the bridge’s familiar weight on his shoulders. Nearby – just ahead and to the left – Bridge Twenty floundered, four men at the front falling to arrows, their corpses tripping up those behind.
The Parshendi archers knelt on the other side of the chasm, singing calmly despite the hail of arrows from Sadeas’s side. Their black eyes were like shards of obsidian. No whites. Just that emotionless black. In those moments – listening to men scream, cry, yell, howl – Kaladin hated the Parshendi as much as he hated Sadeas and Amaram. How could they sing while they killed?