The Way of Kings - By Brandon Sanderson Page 0,224

got only an eyebrow raise. So, more seriously, Shallan continued. “I suppose I can understand the device, Brightness, but these books you’ve given me on King Gavilar’s death are more and more irrational in defending their points. What began as a rhetorical conceit seems to have descended into name-calling and squabbling.”

“They are trying to provoke discussion. Would you rather that the scholars hide from the truth, like so many? You would have men prefer ignorance?”

“When reading these books, scholarship and ignorance feel much alike to me,” Shallan said. “Ignorance may reside in a man hiding from intelligence, but scholarship can seem ignorance hidden behind intelligence.”

“And what of intelligence without ignorance? Finding truth while not dismissing the possibility of being wrong?”

“A mythological treasure, Brightness, much like the Dawnshards or the Honorblades. Certainly worth seeking, but only with great caution.”

“Caution?” Jasnah said, frowning.

“It would make you famous, but actually finding it would destroy us all. Proof that one can be both intelligent and accept the intelligence of those who disagree with you? Why, I should think it would undermine the scholarly world in its entirety.”

Jasnah sniffed. “You go too far, child. If you took half the energy you devote to being witty and channeled it into your work, I daresay you could be one of the greatest scholars of our age.”

“I’m sorry, Brightness,” Shallan said. “I…well, I’m confused. Considering the gaps in my education, I assumed you would have me studying things deeper in the past than a few years ago.”

Jasnah opened one of her books. “I have found that youths like you have a relative lack of appreciation for the distant past. Therefore, I selected an area of study that is both more recent and sensational, to ease you into true scholarship. Is the murder of a king not of interest to you?”

“Yes, Brightness,” Shallan said. “We children love things that are shiny and loud.”

“You have quite the mouth on you at times.”

“At times? You mean it’s not there at others? I’ll have to…” Shallan trailed off, then bit her lip, realizing she’d gone too far. “Sorry.”

“Never apologize for being clever, Shallan. It sets a bad precedent. However, one must apply one’s wit with care. You often seem to say the first passably clever thing that enters your mind.”

“I know,” Shallan said. “It’s long been a foible of mine, Brightness. One my nurses and tutors tried very hard to discourage.”

“Likely through strict punishments.”

“Yes. Making me sit in the corner holding books over my head was the preferred method.”

“Which, in turn,” Jasnah said with a sigh, “only trained you to make your quips more quickly, for you knew you had to get them out before you could reconsider and suppress them.”

Shallan cocked her head.

“The punishments were incompetent,” Jasnah said. “Used upon one such as yourself, they were actually encouragement. A game. How much would you have to say to earn a punishment? Could you say something so clever that your tutors missed the joke? Sitting in the corner just gave you more time to compose retorts.”

“But it’s unseemly for a young woman to speak as I so often do.”

“The only ‘unseemly’ thing is to not channel your intelligence usefully. Consider. You have trained yourself to do something very similar to what annoys you in the scholars: cleverness without thought behind it—intelligence, one might say, without a foundation of proper consideration.” Jasnah turned a page. “Errorgant, wouldn’t you say?”

Shallan blushed.

“I prefer my wards to be clever,” Jasnah said. “It gives me more to work with. I should bring you to court with me. I suspect that Wit, at least, would find you amusing—if only because your apparent natural timidity and your clever tongue make such an intriguing combination.”

“Yes, Brightness.”

“Please, just remember that a woman’s mind is her most precious weapon. It must not be employed clumsily or prematurely. Much like the aforementioned knife to the back, a clever gibe is most effective when it is unanticipated.”

“I’m sorry, Brightness.”

“It wasn’t an admonition,” Jasnah said, turning a page. “Simply an observation. I make them on occasion: Those books are musty. The sky is blue today. My ward is a smart-lipped reprobate.”

Shallan smiled.

“Now, tell me what you’ve discovered.”

Shallan grimaced. “Not much, Brightness. Or should I say too much? Each writer has her own theories on why the Parshendi killed your father. Some claim he must have insulted them at the feast that night. Others say that the entire treaty was a ruse, intended to get the Parshendi close to him. But that makes little sense, as