Warbreaker (Warbreaker #1)(31)
“No,” Bluefingers said, chuckling. “The conception room? Of course not.”
“Then where?” Siri asked.
“Vessel,” Bluefingers said. “In a way, this entire palace is yours. I don’t see why you’d need specific rooms. Ask to eat, and your servants will set up a table. If you wish to rest, they will bring you a couch or a chair. Seek entertainment, and they will fetch performers for you.”
Suddenly, the strange actions of her servants—simply bringing her an array of colors to choose from, then doing her makeup and hair right there—made more sense. “I see,” she said, almost to herself. “And the soldiers I brought with me? Did they do as I commanded?”
“Yes, Vessel,” Bluefingers said. “They left this morning. It was a wise decision; they are not dedicated servants of the Tones, and would not have been allowed to remain here in the court. They could do you no further service.”
Siri nodded.
“Vessel, if I might be excused . . . ?” Bluefingers asked.
Siri nodded distractedly, and Bluefingers bustled away, leaving her to think about how terribly alone she was. Can’t focus on that, she thought. Instead, she turned to one of her serving women—a younger one, about Siri’s own age. “Well, that really doesn’t tell me what to spend my time on, does it?”
The servant blushed quietly, bowing her head.
“I mean, there seems to be a lot to do, if I want,” Siri said. “Maybe too much.”
The girl bowed again.
That’s going to get very annoying very quickly, Siri thought, gritting her teeth. Part of her wanted to do something shocking to get a reaction out of the servant, but she knew she was just being foolish. In fact, it seemed that many of her natural impulses and reactions wouldn’t work here in Hallandren. So, to keep herself from doing something silly, Siri stood up, determined to examine her new home. She left the overly black room, poking her head out into the hallway. She turned back to her servants, who stood obediently in a line behind her.
“Is there any place I’m forbidden to go?” she asked.
The one she was addressing shook her head.
Fine, then, she thought. I’d better not end up stumbling upon the God King in the bath. She crossed the hallway, opened the door, then stepped into the yellow room she’d been in the day before. The chair and bench she’d used had been removed, replaced by a group of yellow couches. Siri raised an eyebrow, then walked through into the tub room beyond.
The tub was gone. She started. The room was the one she remembered, with same red colorings. Yet, the sloped tile platforms with their inset tubs were gone. The entire contraption must have been portable, brought in for her bath, then removed.
They really can transform any room, she thought with amazement. They must have chambers full of furniture, tubs, and drapings, each of a different color, waiting upon the whims of their god.
Curious, she left the tubless room and moved in a random direction. Each room appeared to have four doors, one on each wall. Some rooms were larger than others. Some had windows to the outside, while others were in the middle of the palace. Each was a different color, yet it was still difficult to tell the difference between them. Endless rooms, pristine with their decorations following a single color’s theme. Soon, she was hopelessly lost—but it didn’t seem to matter. Every room was, in a way, the same as any other.
She turned to her servants. “I would like breakfast.”
It happened far faster than Siri would have thought possible. Several of the women ducked out and returned with a stuffed green chair to match her current room. Siri sat down, waiting as a table, chairs, and finally food were produced as if out of nowhere. In less than fifteen minutes, she had a hot meal waiting for her.
Hesitantly, she picked up a fork and tried a bite. It wasn’t until that moment that she realized how hungry she was. The meal was composed primarily of a group of sausages mixed with vegetables. The flavors were far stronger than she was accustomed to. However, the more she ate the spicy Hallandren food, the more she found herself liking it.
Hungry or not, it was strange to eat in silence. Siri was accustomed to either eating in the kitchens with the servants or at the table with her father, his generals, and whatever local people or monks he had invited to his home that evening. It was never a silent affair, yet here in Hallandren—land of colors, sounds, and ostentation—she found herself eating alone, quietly, in a room that felt dull despite its bright decorations.
Her servants watched. None of them spoke to her. Their silence was supposed to be respectful, she knew, but Siri just found it intimidating. She tried several times to draw them into conversation, but she managed to get only terse replies.
She chewed on a spiced caper. Is this what my life is to be from now on? she thought. A night spent feeling halfused, halfignored by my husband, then days spent surrounded by people, yet somehow still alone?
She shivered, her appetite waning. She set down the fork, and her food slowly grew cold on the table before her. She stared at it, a part of her wishing she’d simply remained in the comfortable, oversized black bed.
9
Vivenna—firstborn child of Dedelin, king of Idris—gazed upon the grand city of T’Telir. It was the ugliest place she had ever seen.
People jostled their way through the streets, draped flagrantly in colors, yelling, and talking, and moving, and stinking, and coughing, and bumping. Her hair lightened to grey, she pulled her shawl close as she maintained her imitation—such that it was—of an elderly woman. She had feared that she might stand out. She needn’t have worried. Who could ever stand out in this confusion?