Warbreaker (Warbreaker #1)(108)

One of the men beside the other statue looked across as Vivenna sat down; then he nodded. The others continued to eat. The Hallandren underground’s penchant for working in broad daylight still unnerved Vivenna, but she supposed it had advantages over skulking about at night.

“You want some work commissioned?” the forger closest to her asked, just loudly enough that Vivenna could hear. It almost seemed part of his conversation with his friends.

“Yes,” she said.

“It costs.”

“I can pay.”

“You’re the princess everyone is talking about?”

She paused, noticing Denth’s hand leisurely going to his sword hilt.

“Yes,” she said.

“Good,” the forger said. “Royalty always seems to know how to handle itself. What is it you desire?”

“Letters,” Vivenna said. “I want them to appear as if they were between certain members of the Hallandren priesthood and the king of Idris. They need to have official seals and convincing signatures.”

“Difficult,” the man said.

Vivenna pulled something from her dress pocket. “I have a letter written in King Dedelin’s hand. It has his seal on the wax, his signature at the bottom.”

The man seemed intrigued, though she could only see the side of his face. “That makes it possible. Still hard. What do you want these documents to prove?”

“That these particular priests are corrupt,” Vivenna said. “I have a list on this sheet. I want you to make it look like they’ve been extorting Idris for years, forcing our king to pay outrageous sums and make extreme promises in order to prevent war. I want you to show that Idris doesn’t want war and that the priests are hypocrites.”

The man nodded. “Is that everything?”

“Yes.”

“It can be done. We’ll be in touch. Instructions and explanations are on the back of the paper?”

“As requested,” Vivenna said.

The group of men stood, a servant moving forward to pack up their lunch. As he did so, he let a napkin blow in the wind, then rushed over and picked it up, grabbing Vivenna’s paper too. Soon, all of them were gone.

“Well?” Vivenna asked, looking up.

“Good,” Denth said, nodding to himself. “You’re becoming an expert.”

Vivenna smiled, settling back on her blanket to wait. The next appointment consisted of a group of thieves who had stolen—at Vivenna and Denth’s request—various goods from the war offices in the Hallandren bureaucratic building. The documents were of relatively little import themselves, but their absence would cause confusion and frustration.

That appointment wasn’t for a few hours, which meant she could enjoy some time relaxing on the lawn, away from the unnatural colors of the city. Denth seemed to sense her inclination, and he sat down, leaning back against the side of the statue’s bare pedestal. As Vivenna waited, she saw that Parlin was over talking to Jewels again. Denth was right; though his clothing looked ridiculous to her, that was because she knew him as an Idrian. Looking at him more objectively, she saw that he fit in remarkably well with other young men in the city.

That’s well and good for him, Vivenna thought with annoyance, looking away. He can dress as he wishes—he doesn’t have to worry about his neckline or hemline.

Jewels laughed. It was almost a snort of derision, but there was some mirth in it. Vivenna looked back immediately, watching Jewels roll her eyes at Parlin, a self-effacing smirk on his face. He knew he’d said something wrong. He didn’t know what. Vivenna knew him well enough to read the expression and to know that he’d just smile and go along with it.

Jewels saw his face, then laughed again.

Vivenna gritted her teeth. “I should send him back to Idris,” she said.

Denth turned, looking down at her. “Hum?”

“Parlin,” she said. “I sent my other guides back. I should have sent him too. He serves no function.”

“He’s quick at adapting to situations,” Denth said. “And he’s trustworthy. That’s good enough reason to keep him.”

“He’s a fool,” Vivenna said. “Has trouble understanding half of what goes on around him.”

“He’s not got the wit of a scholar, true, but he seems to instinctively know how to blend in. Besides, we can’t all be geniuses like you.”

She glanced at Denth. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Denth said, “that you shouldn’t let your hair change colors in public, Princess.”

Vivenna started, noticing that her hair had shifted from a still, calm black to the red of frustration. Lord of Colors! she thought. I used to be so good at controlling that. What is happening to me?

“Don’t worry,” Denth said, settling back. “Jewels has no interest in your friend. I promise you.”

Vivenna snorted. “Parlin? Why should I care?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Denth said. “Maybe because you and he have been practically engaged since you were children?”

“That’s completely untrue,” Vivenna said. “I’ve been engaged to the God King since before my birth!”

“And your father always wished you could marry the son of his best friend instead,” Denth said. “At least, that’s what Parlin says.” He eyed her with a smirk.