Warbreaker (Warbreaker #1)(132)
A war her people couldn’t win. That was another good reason why the conflict was becoming inevitable. As Hoid had implied, when one side had an unbeatable advantage, war was the result. Hallandren had been building its Lifeless armies for centuries, and the size was becoming daunting. Hallandren had less and less to lose from an attack. He should have realized that earlier, rather than assuming this would all blow over once the new queen arrived.
Blushweaver huffed beside him, and he noticed that she had noticed his study of Siri. She was watching the queen with obvious dislike.
Lightsong immediately changed the topic. “Do you know anything about a tunnel complex beneath the Court of Gods?”
Blushweaver turned back toward him, shrugging. “Sure. Some of the palaces have tunnels beneath them, places for storage and the like.”
“Have you ever been down in any of them?”
“Please. Why would I go crawling about in storage tunnels? I only know about them because of my high priestess. When she joined my service, she asked me if I wanted mine connected to the main complex of tunnels. I said I didn’t.”
“Because you didn’t want others to have access to your palace?”
“No,” she said, turning back to watching the priests below. “Because I didn’t want to put up with the racket of all that digging. Can I have some more wine, please?”
* * *
SIRI WATCHED THE PROCEEDINGS for quite a long time. She felt a little like Lightsong said he did. Because she didn’t have a say about what the court did, it was frustrating to pay attention. Yet she wanted to know. The arguments of the priests were, in a way, her only connection to the outside world.
She was not encouraged by what she heard. As the time passed, the sun falling close to the horizon and servants lighting massive torches along the walkway, Siri found herself feeling more and more daunted. Her husband was probably either going to be killed or persuaded to kill himself in the upcoming year. Her homeland, in turn, was about to be invaded by the very kingdom her husband ruled—yet he could do nothing to stop it because he had no way to communicate.
Then there was the guilt she felt for actually enjoying all the challenges and problems. Back home, she’d had to be contrary and disobedient to find any kind of excitement. Here she only had to stand and watch, and things would begin to topple against each other and cause a clatter. There was far too much clatter at present, but that didn’t stop her from thrilling at her part in it.
Silly fool, she told herself. Everything you love is in danger and you’re thinking about how exciting it is?
She needed to find a way to help Susebron. In doing so, perhaps she could bring him out from beneath the oppressive control of the priests. Then he might be able to do something to help her homeland. As she followed that line of thought, she almost missed a comment from below. It was spoken by one of the priests most strongly in favor of attacking.
“Have you not heard of the Idrian agent who has been causing havoc in the city?” the priest asked. “The Idrians are preparing for the war! They know that a conflict is inevitable and so they’ve begun to work against us!”
Siri perked up. Idrian agents in the city?
“Bah,” said another of the priests. “The ‘infiltrator’ you speak of is said to be a princess of the royal family. That’s obviously a story for the common people. Why would a princess come in secret to T’Telir? Theses stories are ridiculous and unfounded.”
Siri grimaced. That, at least, was obviously true. Her sisters were not the types to come and work as “Idrian agents.” She smiled, imagining her soft-spoken monk of a sister—or even Vivenna in her prim outfits and stony attitude—coming to T’Telir in secret. Part of her had a little trouble believing that Vivenna had really been intended to become Susebron’s bride. Starchy Vivenna? Having to deal with the exotic court and the wild costumes?
Vivenna’s stoic coldness would never have coaxed Susebron out of his imperial mask. Vivenna’s obvious disapproval would have alienated her from gods like Lightsong. Vivenna would have hated wearing the beautiful dresses and would never have appreciated the colors and variety in the city. Siri might not have been ideal for the position, but she was slowly coming to realize that Vivenna hadn’t been a good choice either.
A group of people was approaching along the walkway. Siri remained where she was; she was too distracted by her thoughts to pay much attention.
“Are they talking about a relative of yours?” a voice asked.
Siri started, spinning. Behind her stood a dark-haired goddess wearing a lavish—and revealing—gown of green and silver. Like most of the gods, she stood a good head taller than a mortal person, and she looked down at Siri with a raised eyebrow.
“Your . . . Grace?” Siri responded, confused.
“They’re discussing the famous hidden princess,” the goddess said with a wave of her hand. “She’d be a relative of yours, if she really does have the Royal Locks.”
Siri glanced back at the priests. “They must be mistaken. I’m the only princess here.”
“The stories of her are quite pervasive.”
Siri fell silent.
“My Lightsong has taken a liking to you, Princess,” the goddess said, folding her arms.
“He has been very kind to me,” Siri said carefully, trying to present the right image—that of the person she was, only less threatening. A little more confused. “Might I ask which goddess you are, Your Grace?”