Shardbearers, seemed like it would be an imprudent

decision. Indeed, there were Shards

aplenty at this meeting. Three of the highprinces
wore their Plate, and the others had
Shardbearers in attendance. Abrobadar,
Jakamav, Resi, Relis . . . Adolin had rarely
seen so many collected together at once.
Would any of it matter? Accounts had
been flooding in from around the world for
weeks. Kings slaughtered. Ruling bodies decapitated
all across Roshar. In Jah Keved,
the assassin had reportedly killed dozens of
soldiers bearing half-shard shields that could
block his Blade, as well as three Shardbearers,
including the king. It was a crisis that
spanned the entire world, and one man was
behind it. Assuming he was even a man.
Adolin found himself a cup of sweet wine
at the edge of the room, poured by an eager
servant in blue and gold. Orange wine, basically
just juice. Adolin downed an entire cup
anyway, then went looking for Relis. He
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needed to be doing something other than sitting
and listening to people complain.
Fortunately, he d concocted something
while sitting there.
Relis, Ruthar s son and star Shardbearer,
was a man with a face like a shovel flat and
wide, with a nose that seemed like it had
been smashed. He wore a frilly outfit of
green and yellow. It wasn t even interesting.
He had the choice to wear anything, and he
chose this?
He was a full Shardbearer, one of the few
in the camps. He was also the current dueling
champion which, along with his parentage,
made him of particular interest to
Adolin. He stood speaking with his cousin
Elit and a group of three of Sadeas s attendants:
women in the traditional Vorin havah.
One of those women, Melali, gave Adolin a
pointed glare. She was as pretty as she d ever
been, her hair up in complex braids and
stuck with hairspikes. What had he done to
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annoy her, again? It had been forever since
they d courted.
Relis, Adolin said, raising his cup, I just
wanted you to know that I found it very
brave of you to offer to fight the assassin
yourself, when you spoke earlier. It is inspiring
that you d be willing to die for the
Crown.
Relis scowled at Adolin. How did someone
get a face so flat? Had he been dropped as a
child? You re assuming I d lose.
Well, of course you would, Adolin said,
chuckling. I mean, let s be honest, Relis.
You ve been sitting on your title for almost

half a year. You haven t won a duel of any

importance since you defeated Epinar.
This from a man who spent years refusing
almost all challenges, Melali said, looking
Adolin up and down. I m surprised your
daddy let you free to come talk. Isn t he
afraid you might hurt yourself?
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Nice to see you too, Melali, Adolin said.
How s your sister?
Off limits.
Oh, right. That was what he d done. Honest
mistake. Relis, Adolin said. You claim
you d face this assassin, yet you re frightened
of dueling me?
Relis spread his hands, one holding a
shimmering goblet of red wine. It s protocol,
Adolin! I ll duel you once you fight up
through the brackets for a year or two. I can t
just take on any old challenger, particularly
not in a bout with our Shards on the line!
Any old challenger? Adolin said. Relis,
I m one of the best there is.
Are you? Relis asked, smiling. After
that display with Eranniv?
Yes, Adolin, said Elit, Relis s short, balding
cousin. You ve only had a handful of
duels of any consequence in recent
memory in one of those you basically
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cheated, and in the second you won by sheer
luck!
Relis nodded. If I bend the rules and accept
your challenge, then it will break the
stormwall. I ll have dozens of inferior
swordsmen nipping at me.
No you won t, Adolin said. Because you
won t be a Shardbearer any longer. You ll
have lost to me.
So confident, Relis said, chuckling, turning
to Elit and the women. Listen to him.
He ignores the rankings for months, then
leaps back in and assumes he can beat me.
I ll wager both my Plate and Blade,
Adolin said. And my brother s Plate and
Blade, along with the Shard I won from
Eranniv. Five Shards to your two.
Elit started. The man was a Shardbearer
with only the Plate given to him by his
cousin. He turned to Relis, looking hungry.
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Relis paused. Then he closed his mouth
and cocked his head lazily to the side as he
met Adolin s eyes. You re a fool, Kholin.
I m offering it here, before witnesses,
Adolin said. You win this bout, you take
every Shard my family owns. What s
stronger? Your fear or your greed?
My pride, Relis said. No contest,
Adolin.

Adolin ground his teeth. He d hoped the

duel with Eranniv would make others underestimate
him, make them more likely to duel
him. It wasn t working. Relis barked out a
laugh. He held out his arm to Melali, and
tugged her away, his attendants following.
Elit hesitated.
Well, it s better than nothing, Adolin
thought, a plan forming. What about you?
Adolin asked the cousin.
Elit looked him up and down. Adolin
didn t know the man well. He was said to be
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a passable duelist, though he was often in his
cousin s shadow.
But that hunger Elit wanted to be a full
Shardbearer.
Elit? Relis said.
Same offer? Elit said, meeting Adolin s
gaze. Your five to my one?
What a terrible deal.
Same offer, Adolin said.
I m in, Elit said.
Behind him, Ruthar s son groaned. He
grabbed Elit by the shoulder, towing him to
the side with a growl.
You told me to fight up through the
brackets, Adolin said to Relis. I m doing
that.
Not my cousin.
Too late, Adolin said. You heard it. The
ladies heard it. When do we fight, Elit?
Seven days, Elit said. On Chachel.
Seven days a long wait, considering a
challenge like this. So, he wanted time to
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train, did he? How about tomorrow
instead?
Relis snarled at Adolin, a very un-Alethi
display, and shoved his cousin farther away.
I can t see why you re so eager, Adolin.
Shouldn t you focus on protecting that father
of yours? It s always sad when a soldier lives
long enough to see his wits go. Has he started
wetting himself in public yet?
Steady, Adolin told himself. Relis was trying
to goad him, maybe get Adolin to take a
hasty swing. That would let him petition to
the king for redress and a voiding of all contracts
with his house including the dueling
agreement with Elit. But the insult went too
far. His companions gasped slightly, pulling
away at the very un-Alethi bluntness.
Adolin didn t give in to the desperate
goading. He had what he wanted. He wasn t
certain what he could do about the assassin
but this, this was a way to help. Elit
wasn t ranked highly, but he served Ruthar,
1178/2996
who was more and more acting as

Sadeas s right-hand man. Beating him would

take Adolin one step closer to the real goal. A
duel with Sadeas himself.
He turned to leave, and stopped short.
Someone stood behind him a stout man
with a bulbous face and black curly hair. His
complexion was ruddy, the nose too red, fine
veins visible in his cheeks. The man had the
arms of a soldier, despite his frivolous outfit
which was, Adolin admitted grudgingly,
quite fashionable. Dark slacks that were
trimmed with forest green silk, a short open
coat over a stiff matching shirt. Scarf at the
neck.
Torol Sadeas, highprince, Shardbearer,
and the very man Adolin had been thinking
of the single person he hated most in the
world.
Another duel, young Adolin, Sadeas
said, taking a sip of wine. You really are determined
to embarrass yourself out there. I
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still find it strange your father abandoned his
prohibition of you dueling indeed, I
thought it a matter of honor to him.
Adolin pushed past Sadeas, not trusting
himself to speak so much as a single word to
this eel of a man. Sight of the man brought
memories of stark panic as he watched
Sadeas retreat from the field of battle to
leave Adolin and his father alone and
surrounded.
Havar, Perethom, and Ilamar good soldiers,
good friends had died that day. They
and six thousand more.
Sadeas grabbed Adolin s shoulder as he
passed. Think what you will, son, the man
whispered, but what I did was intended as a
kindness to your father. A tip of the sword to
an old ally.
Let. Go.
If you lose your mind as you age, pray to
the Almighty there are people like myself
willing to give you a good death. People who
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care enough not to snicker, but instead hold
the sword for you as you fall on it.
I ll have your throat in my hands,
Sadeas, Adolin hissed. I ll squeeze and
squeeze, then I ll sink my dagger into your
gut and twist. A quick death is too good for
you.
Tsk, Sadeas said, smiling. Careful. It s a
full room. What if someone heard you
threatening a highprince?
The Alethi way. You could abandon an ally
on the battlefield, and everyone could know
it but an offense in person, well, that just
wouldn t do. Society would frown on that.
Nalan s hand! His father was right about

them all.
Adolin turned in a quick motion, reversing
out of Sadeas s grip. His next moves were by
instinct, his fingers balling, stepping in preparation
to plant a fist in that smiling, selfsatisfied
face.
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A hand fell on Adolin s shoulder, causing
him to hesitate.
I don t think that would be wise,
Brightlord Adolin, said a soft but stern
voice. It reminded Adolin of his father,
though the timbre was off. He glanced at
Amaram, who had stepped up beside him.
Tall, with a face like chipped stone,
Brightlord Meridas Amaram was one of the
only lighteyed men in the room who wore a
proper uniform. As much as Adolin wished
he himself could wear something more fashionable,
he had come to realize the importance
of the uniform as a symbol.
Adolin took a deep breath, lowering his
fist. Amaram nodded to Sadeas, then turned
Adolin by his shoulder and walked him away
from the highprince.
You mustn t let him provoke you, Your
Highness, Amaram said softly. He ll use
you to embarrass your father, if he can.
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They moved through the room full of
chattering attendants. Drinks and finger
food had been distributed. It had turned
from a short break during the meeting into a
full-blown party. Not surprising. With all the
important lighteyes here, people would want
to mingle and connive.
Why do you remain with him, Amaram?
Adolin asked.
He is my liege lord.
You re of a rank that you could choose a
new liege. Stormfather! You re a Shardbearer
now. Nobody would even question you.
Come to our camp. Join with Father.
In doing that, I would create a divide,
Amaram said softly. So long as I remain
with Sadeas, I can help bridge gaps. He
trusts me. So does your father. My friendship
with both is a step toward keeping this kingdom
together.
Sadeas will betray you.
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No. Highprince Sadeas and I have an
understanding.
We thought we had one. Then he set us
up.
Amaram s expression grew distant. Even
the way he walked was so full of decorum,
straight back, nodding with respect to many
they passed. The perfect lighteyed general
brilliantly capable, yet not lofty. A sword

for his highprince to employ. He d spent the

majority of the war diligently training new
troops and sending the best of them to
Sadeas while guarding sections of Alethkar.
Amaram was half the reason that Sadeas had
been so effective out here on the Shattered
Plains.
Your father is a man who cannot bend,
Amaram said. I wouldn t have it any other
way, Adolin but it does mean that the man
he has become is not someone who can work
with Highprince Sadeas.
And you re different?
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Yes.
Adolin snorted. Amaram was one of the
finest the kingdom had, a man with a sterling
reputation. I doubt that.
Sadeas and I agree that the means we
choose to reach an honorable goal are allowed
to be distasteful. Your father and I
agree on what that goal should be a better
Alethkar, a place without all of this squabbling.
It is a matter of perspective. . . .
He continued talking, but Adolin found
his mind drifting. He d heard enough of this
speech from his father. If Amaram started
quoting The Way of Kings at him, he d probably
scream. At least
Who was that?
Gorgeous red hair. There wasn t a single
lock of black in it. A slender build, so different
from the curvaceous Alethi. A silken blue
dress, simple yet elegant. Pale skin it almost
had a Shin look to it matched by light
1185/2996
blue eyes. A slight dusting of freckles under
the eyes, giving her an exotic cast.
The young woman seemed to glide
through the room. Adolin twisted about,
watching her pass. She was so different.
Ash s eyes! Amaram said, chuckling.
You re still doing that, are you?
Adolin pried his eyes away from the girl.
Doing what?
Letting your eyes be drawn by every flitting
little thing that swishes by. You need to
settle down, son. Pick one. Your mother
would be mortified to find you still unwed.
Jasnah s unwed too. She s a decade older
than me. Assuming she was still alive, as
Aunt Navani was convinced.
Your cousin is hardly a role model in that
regard. His tone implied more. Or any
regard.
Look at her, Amaram, Adolin said, craning
to the side and watching the young woman
approach his father. That hair. Have
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you ever seen anything such a deep shade of

red?
Veden, I d warrant, Amaram said.
Horneater blood. There are family lines that
pride themselves on it.
Veden. It couldn t be . . . Could it?
Excuse me, Adolin said, breaking away
from Amaram and shoving politely his
way over to where the young woman was
speaking to his father and his aunt.
Brightlady Jasnah did go down with the
ship, I m afraid, the woman was saying.
I m sorry for your loss . . .
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Now, as the Windrunners were
thus engaged, arose the event
which has hitherto been referenced:
namely, that discovery
of some wicked thing of eminence,
though whether it be some
rogueries among the Radiants
adherents or of some external
origin, Avena would not
suggest.
From Words of Radiance,
chapter 38, page 6
. . . sorry for your loss, Shallan said. I have
brought with me what things of Jasnah s I
was able to recover. My men have them
outside.
She found it surprisingly difficult to say
the words with an even tone. She d grieved
for Jasnah during her weeks traveling, yet
speaking of the death remembering that
terrible night returned the emotions like
surging waves, threatening to overwhelm
again.
The image she d drawn of herself came to
her rescue. She could be that woman
today and that woman, while not emotionless,
could push through the loss. She focused
her attention on the moment, and the
task at hand specifically the two people in
front of her. Dalinar and Navani Kholin.
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The highprince was exactly what she d expected
him to be: a man with blunted features,
short black hair silvering at the sides.
His stiff uniform made him seem the only
one in the room who knew anything about
combat. She wondered if those bruises on his
face were the result of the campaign against
the Parshendi. Navani looked like a version
of Jasnah twenty years older, still pretty,
though with a motherly air. Shallan could
never imagine Jasnah being motherly.
Navani had been smiling as Shallan approached,
but now that levity was gone. She
still had hope for her daughter, Shallan
thought as the woman sat down in a nearby
seat. I just crushed it.

I thank you for bringing us this news,

Brightlord Dalinar said. It is . . . good to
have confirmation.
It felt terrible. Not just to be reminded of
the death, but to weigh others down with it
as well. I have information for you, Shallan
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said, trying to be delicate. About the things
Jasnah was working on.
More about those parshmen? Navani
snapped. Storms, that woman was too fascinated
by them. Ever since she got it into
her head that she was to blame for Gavilar s
death.
What was this? That wasn t a side of all
this that Shallan had ever heard.
Her research can wait, Navani said, eyes
fierce. I want to know exactly what
happened when you think you saw her die.
Precisely as you remember it, girl. No details
passed over.
Perhaps after the meeting . . . Dalinar
said, resting a hand on Navani s shoulder.
The touch was surprisingly tender. Was this
not his brother s wife? That look in his eyes;
was that familial affection for his sister, or
was it something more?
No, Dalinar, Navani said. Now. I would
hear it now.
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Shallan took a deep breath, preparing to
begin, steeling herself against the emotions
and finding herself surprisingly in
control. As she gathered her thoughts, she
noticed a blond-haired young man watching
her. That would likely be Adolin. He wa