"I've always enjoyed it," Kiin explained, sitting down in his chair. "I would have fixed you some things back when I visited Teod, but your mother's head cook had this inane idea that royalty didn't belong in the kitchen. I tried to explain to her that in a way, I partially owned the kitchens, but she still would never let me set foot inside to prepare a meal."
"Well, she did us all a disservice," Sarene said. "You don't do all of the cooking, do you?"
Kiin shook his head. "Fortunately no. Daora is quite the cook herself." Sarene blinked in surprise. "You mean you don't have a cook to fix your meals for you?"
Kiin and Daora shook their heads in unison.
"Father is our cook," Kaise said.
"No servers or butlers either?" Sarene asked. She had assumed the lack of servants was due to an odd desire on Kiin's part to keep this particular meal personal.
"None at all," Kiin said.
"But why?"
Kiin looked at his wife, then back at Sarene. "Sarene, do you know what happened here ten years ago?"
"The Reod?" Sarene asked. "The Punishment?"
"Yes, but do you know what that means?"
Sarene thought for a moment, then shrugged slightly. "The end of the Elantrians."
Kiin nodded. "You probably never met an Elantrian—you were still young when the Reod hit. It is hard to explain how much this country changed when the disaster struck. Elantris used to be the most beautiful city in the worId—trust me, I've been everywhere else. It was a monument of glowing stone and lustrous metal, and its inhabitants looked like they were chiseled from the same materials. Then... they fell."
"Yes, I've studied this before," Sarene said with a nod. "Their skin turned dark with black spots, and their hair began to fall from their skulls—"
"You can say that with the knowledge of books," Kiin said, "but you weren't here when it happened. You can't know the horror that comes from seeing gods turn wretched and foul. Their fall destroyed the Arelish government, throwing the country into total chaos."
He paused for a moment, then continued. "It was the servants who started the revolution, Sarene. The very day their masters fell, the servants turned on them. Some—mostly the country's current nobility—say it was because the lower class in Elantris was treated too well, that their pampered natures inspired them to cast down their former rulers at the first sign of weakness. I think it was simply fear—ignorant fear that the Elantrians had a vile disease, mixed with the terror that comes from seeing someone you had worshipped stricken down before you.
"Either way, the servants are the ones who did the most damage. First in small groups, then in an incredibly destructive riot, killing any Elantrian they could find. The most powerful Elantrians went first, but the killings spread to the weaker ones as well.
"It didn't stop with the Elantrians either—the people attacked families, friends, and even those who had been appointed to positions by the Elantrians. Daora and I watched it all, horrified and thankful that there were no Elantrians in the family. Because of that night, we haven't ever been able to convince ourselves to hire servants."
"Not that we really need them," Daora said. "You'd be surprised at how much you can get done on your own."
"Especially when you have a couple of children to do the dirty jobs," Kiin said with a sly smile.
"Is that all we're good for, Father?" Lukel said with a laugh. "Scrubbing floors?"
"It's the only reason I've ever found for having kids," Kiin said. "Your mother and I only had Daorn because we decided we needed another couple of hands to wash chamber pots."
"Father, please," Kaise said. "I'm trying to eat."
"Merciful Domi help the man who interrupts Kaise's supper," Lukel said with a chuckle.
"Princess Kaise," the little girl corrected.
"Oh, so my little girl's a princess now?" Kiin asked with amusement.
"If Sarene can be one, then so can I. After all, you're her uncle, and that should make you a prince. Right, Father?"
"Technically yes." Kiin said. "Though I don't think I officially have a title anymore."
"They probably kicked you out because you spoke of chamber pots during supper," Kaise said. "Princes can't do that sort of thing. you know. It's horrible table manners."
"Of course," Kiin said with a fond smile. "I wonder why I never realized that before."
"So," Kaise continued. "If you are a prince, then your daughter is a princess."
"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way, Kaise," Lukel said. "Father's not king, so his kids would be barons or counts, not princes."
"Is that true?" Kaise asked with a disappointed tone.
"I'm afraid so," Kiin said. "However, trust me. Anyone who claims you're not a princess, Kaise, hasn't ever listened to you complain at bedtime."
The little girl thought for a moment and, apparently unsure how to take the comment. simply turned back to her dinner. Sarene wasn't paying much attention: her mind had frozen at the part where her uncle had said "I don't think I officially have a title anymore." It smelled of politics. Sarene thought she knew every important event that had happened in Teod's court during the last fifty years, and she knew nothing of Kiin being officially stripped of his title.
Before she could ponder any more on the incongruity, Ashe floated in through a window. In the excitement of the dinner. Sarene had almost forgotten that she'd sent him to follow the Gyorn Hrathen.
The ball of light stopped hesitantly in the air near the window. "My lady, am I interrupting?"
"No, Ashe, come in and meet my family."
"You have a Seon!" Daorn exclaimed with amazement. For once his sister seemed too stunned to speak.
"This is Ashe," Sarene explained. "He's been serving my house for over two centuries, and he's the wisest Seon I've ever known."
"My lady. you exaggerate," Ashe said modestly, yet at the same time she noticed he was glowing a bit brighter.
Seon . . ." Kaise said with quiet wonder, her dinner forgotten. "They've always been rare." Kiin said, "now more than ever."
"Where did you get him?" Kaise asked.
"From my mother." Sarene said. "She Passed Ashe to me when I was born." The Passing of a Seon—it was one of the finest gifts a person could receive. Someday, Sarene would have to Pass Ashe, selecting a new ward for him to watch over and care for. She had planned it to be one of her children, or perhaps grandchildren. The possibility of either ever existing, however, was looking increasingly unlikely....
"A Seon." Kaise said with wonder. She turned to Sarene, eyes alight with excitement. "Can I play with him after supper?"
"Play with me?" Ashe asked uncertainly.
"Can I please, Cousin Sarene?" Kaise begged.
"I don't know," Sarene said with a smile. "I seem to recall a few comments about my height."
The little girl's look of disappointed chagrin was a source of great amusement to all. It was at that moment, among their laughter. that Sarene began to feel her tension ease for the first time since leaving her homeland a week before.
CHAPTER 6
THERE is no hope for the king. I'm afraid." Hrathen folded his arms across his breastplate thoughtfully as he looked back at the throne room.
"Your Grace?" Dilaf asked.
"King Iadon," Hrathen explained. "I had hoped to save him—though I never really expected the nobility to follow me without a fight. They're too entrenched in their ways. Perhaps if we had gotten to them right after the Reod. Of course, we weren't sure that whatever disease had taken the Elantrians wouldn't affect us as well."
"Jaddeth struck down the Elantrians," Dilaf said fervently.
"Yes," Hrathen said, nor bothering to look down at the shorter man. "But oft-times Jaddeth uses natural processes to bring about His will. A plague will kill Fjordell as well as Arelene."
"Jaddeth would protect his chosen."
"Of course," Hrathen said distractedly, shooting one more dissatisfied glance down the hallway toward the throne room. He had made the offer out of duty, knowing that the easiest way to save Arelon would be to convert its ruler, but he hadn't expected Iadon to respond favorably. If only the king knew how much suffering he could forestall with a simple profession of faith.
It was too late now; Iadon had formally rejected Jaddeth. He would have to become an example. However, Hrathen would have to be careful. Memories of the Duladen revolution were still stark in Hrathen's mind—the death, blood, and chaos. Such a cataclysm had to be avoided. Hrathen was a stern man, and a determined one, but he was no lover of carnage.
Of course with only three months' time, he might not have a choice. If he was going to succeed, he might have to incite a revolt. More death and more chaos—horrible things to throw upon a nation that had still hadn't recovered from its last violent revolution. However, Jaddeth's empire would not sit still and wait because a few ignorant nobles refused to accept the truth.
"I suppose I expected too much of them," Hrathen mumbled. "They are, after all, only Arelenes."
Dilaf made no response to the comment.
"I noticed someone odd in the throne room, Arteth," Hrathen said as they turned and walked out of the palace, passing both sculpture and servant without so mueh as a glance. "Perhaps you can help me identify her. She was Aonic, but she was taller than most Arelenes, and her hair was much lighter than the average Arelish brown. She looked out of place."
"What was she wearing, Your Holiness?" Dilaf asked.
'Black. All black with a yellow sash."
"The new princess, Your Grace," Dilaf hissed, his voice suddenly hateful.
"New princess?"
"She arrived yesterday, the same as yourself. She was to be married to Iadon's son Raoden."
Hrathen nodded. He hadn't attended the prince's funeral, but he had heard of the event. He hadn't known, however, of the impending marriage. The betrothal must have occurred recently. "She's still here," he asked. "even though the prince died?"
Dilaf nodded. "Unfortunately for her the royal engagement contract made her his wife the moment he died."
"Ah," Hrathen said. "Where is she from?"
"Teod, Your Grace." Dilaf said.
Hrathen nodded, understanding the hatred in Dilaf 's voice. Arelon, despite the blasphemous city of Elantris, at least showed some possibility for redemption. Teod, however, was the homeland of Shu-Korath—a degenerate sect of ShuKeseg, the parent religion of Shu-Dereth. The day Teod fell beneath Fjorden's glory would be a joyous day indeed.
"A Teoish princess could be a problem," Hrathen mused.
"Nothing can hinder Jaddeth's empire."
"If nothing could hinder it, Arteth, then it would already encompass the entire planet. Jaddeth takes pleasure in allowing His servants to serve Him, and grants us glory in bending the foolish before our will. And of all the fools in the world Teoish fools are the most dangerous."