Words of Radiance

Creepy fellow. Well, Adolin would deal with him in two days, the date of their duel. Before that, though, was tomorrow’s meeting with the Parshendi Shardbearer. It loomed over him like a thunderhead. What would it mean, if they finally found peace?

He mulled over that thought, regarding his wine and listening with half an ear to Elit chatting behind him with someone. Adolin recognized that voice, didn’t he?

Adolin sat upright, then looked over his shoulder. How long had Sadeas been back there, and why hadn’t Adolin spotted him when first entering?

Sadeas turned to him, a calm smile on his face.

Maybe he’ll just…

Sadeas strolled up to Adolin, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a fashionable open-fronted short brown coat and an embroidered green stock. The buttons along the front of the coat were gemstones. Emeralds to match the stock.

Storms. He did not want to deal with Sadeas today.

The highprince took the seat beside Adolin, their backs to a hearth that a parshman had begun stoking. The room contained a low hum of nervous conversation. You could never quite be comfortable, no matter how pretty the decor, when a highstorm raged outside.

“Young Adolin,” Sadeas said. “What do you think of my coat?”

Adolin took a gulp of wine, not trusting himself to reply. I should just get up and walk away. But he didn’t. A small part of him wished for Sadeas to provoke him, push away his inhibitions, drive him to do something stupid. Killing the man right here, right now, would likely earn Adolin an execution—or at least an exile. It might be worth either punishment.

“You’ve always been so keen-eyed when it comes to style,” Sadeas continued. “I’d know your opinion. I do think the coat is splendid, but I worry that the short cut might be trending out of fashion. What is the latest from Liafor?”

Sadeas pulled out the front of his jacket, moving his hand to display a ring that matched the buttons. The ring’s emerald, like those on the jacket, was uncut. They glowed softly with Stormlight.

Uncut emeralds, Adolin thought, then looked up to meet Sadeas’s eyes. The man smiled.

“The gemstones are recent acquisitions,” Sadeas noted. “I am fond of them.”

Gained from doing a plateau run with Ruthar that he wasn’t supposed to have been on. Racing ahead of the other highprinces, like this was the old days, where each prince tried to be first and claim their winnings.

“I hate you,” Adolin whispered.

“As well you should,” Sadeas said, letting go of his coat. He nodded toward Adolin’s bridgeman guards, watching with overt hostility nearby. “My former property is treating you well? I’ve seen their like patrolling the market here. I find that amusing for reasons I doubt I could ever properly express.”

“They patrol,” Adolin said, “to create a better Alethkar.”

“Is that what Dalinar wants? I am surprised to hear it. He talks of justice, of course, but he doesn’t allow justice to take its course. Not properly.”

“And I know where you’re going, Sadeas,” Adolin snapped. “You’re annoyed that we haven’t been letting you put judges into our warcamp as Highprince of Information. Well, I’ll have you know that Father has decided to let—”

“Highprince of… Information? You didn’t hear? I recently renounced the title.”

“What?”

“Yes,” Sadeas said. “I fear I was never a good match for the position. My Shalashian temperament, perhaps. I wish Dalinar good fortune in finding a replacement—though from what I’ve heard, the other highprinces have come to an agreement that none of us are… suited to these kinds of appointments.”

He renounces the king’s authority,

Adolin thought. Storms, this was bad. He gritted his teeth, and found himself reaching his hand to the side to summon his Blade. No. He pulled the hand back. He’d find a way to force this man into the dueling ring. Killing Sadeas now—no matter how much he deserved it—would undermine the very laws and codes Adolin’s father was working so hard to uphold.

But storms… Adolin was tempted.

Sadeas smiled again. “Do you think me an evil man, Adolin?”

“That’s too simple a term,” Adolin snapped. “You’re not just evil, you’re a selfish, crem-crusted eel who is trying to strangle this kingdom with his bulbous, bastard hand.”

“Eloquent,” Sadeas said. “You realize I created this kingdom.”

“You only helped my father and uncle.”

“Men who are both gone,” Sadeas said. “The Blackthorn is as dead as old Gavilar. Instead, two idiots rule this kingdom, and each one is—in a way—a shadow of a man I loved.” He leaned forward, looking Adolin straight in the eyes. “I’m not strangling Alethkar, son. I’m trying with everything I have to keep a few chunks of it strong enough to weather the collapse your father is bringing.”

“Don’t call me son,” Adolin hissed.