Words of Radiance

Adolin chuckled for a moment, though his laughter trailed off awkwardly. “Anyway,” he continued, “she probably has a better reason to be here than others, considering our relationship. We’ll still have to kick her out. Can’t set a bad precedent.”

“You really let this happen?” Kaladin asked. “A betrothal to a woman you’d never met?”

Adolin shrugged armored shoulders. “Things always go so well at first, and then… they fall apart on me. I can never figure out where I go wrong. I thought, maybe if there were something more formal in place…”

He scowled, as if remembering who he was talking to, and tromped forward at a faster pace to get away from Kaladin. Adolin reached Shallan, who—humming to herself—passed him right by without looking. Adolin raised a hand, mouth opened to speak, as he turned and watched her walk farther across the courtyard. Her eyes were on Nall, head ardent of the practice grounds. Shallan bowed to her in reverence.

Adolin scowled, turning to jog after Shallan, passing Kaladin, who smirked at him.

“Come to watch you, I see,” Kaladin said. “Completely fascinated by you, obviously.”

“Shut up,” Adolin growled.

Kaladin strolled after Adolin, reaching Shallan and Nall in the middle of a conversation.

“… visual records of these suits are pathetic, Sister Nall,” Shallan was saying, handing Nall a bound leather portfolio. “We need new sketches. Though much of my time will be spent clerking for Brightlord Sebarial, I would like a few projects of my own during my time at the Shattered Plains. With your blessing, I wish to proceed.”

“Your talent is admirable,” Nall said, flipping through pages. “Art is your Calling?”

“Natural History, Sister Nall, though sketching is a priority for me in that line of study as well.”

“As well it should be.” The ardent turned another page. “You have my blessing, dear child. Tell me, which devotary do you call your own?”

“That is… a subject of some consternation on my part,” Shallan said, taking the portfolio back. “Oh! Adolin. I didn’t notice you there. My, but you do loom when you wear that armor, don’t you?”

“You’re letting her stay?” Adolin asked Nall.

“She wishes to update the royal record of Shardplate and Shardblades in the warcamps with new sketches,” Nall said. “This seems wise. The king’s current accounting of the Shards includes many rough sketches, but few detailed drawings.”

“So you’re going to need me to pose for you?” Adolin asked, turning to Shallan.

“Actually, the sketches of your Plate are quite complete,” Shallan said, “thanks to your mother. I’ll focus first on the King’s Plate and Blades, which nobody has thought to sketch in any detail.”

“Just stay out of the way of the men sparring, child,” Nall said as someone called for her. She walked off.

“Look,” Adolin said, turning to Shallan. “I can see what you’re up to.”

“Five foot six inches,” Shallan said. “I suspect that’s all I will ever be up to, unfortunately.”

“Five foot…” Adolin said, frowning.

“Yes,” Shallan said, scanning the practice grounds. “I thought it was a good height, then I came here. You Alethi really are freakishly tall, aren’t you? I’d guess everyone here is a good two inches taller than the Veden average.”

“No, that’s not…” Adolin frowned. “You’re here because you want to watch me spar. Admit it. The sketching is a ruse.”

“Hmmm. Someone has a high opinion of himself. Comes with being royalty, I suppose. Like funny hats and a fondness for beheadings. Ah, and it’s our captain of the guard. Your boots are on the way to your barracks via courier.”

Kaladin started as he realized she was talking to him. “Is that so?”

“I had the soles replaced,” Shallan said. “They were terribly uncomfortable.”

“I liked how they fit!”

“Then you must have stones for feet.” She glanced down, then cocked an eyebrow.

“Wait,” Adolin said, frowning more deeply. “You wore the bridgeboy’s boots? How did that happen?”

“Awkwardly,” Shallan replied. “And with three pairs of socks.” She patted Adolin’s armored arm. “If you really want me to sketch you, Adolin, I will. No need to act jealous, though I do still want that walk you promised me. Oh! I need to get that. Excuse me.”

She strode toward where Renarin was taking hits on his armor from Zahel, presumably to get him used to taking a beating while wearing Plate. Shallan’s green gown and red hair were vibrant slashes of color on the grounds. Kaladin inspected her, wondering just how far she could be trusted. Probably not far.

“Insufferable woman,” Adolin growled. He glanced at Kaladin. “Stop leering at her backside, bridgeboy.”

“I’m not leering. And what do you care? You just said she was insufferable.”

“Yeah,” Adolin said, looking back toward her with a wide grin. “She all but ignored me, didn’t she?”

“I suppose.”

“Insufferable,” Adolin said, though he seemed to mean something completely different. His smile widened and he strode after her, moving with the grace of Shardplate that was so discordant with its apparent bulk.