get jealous over how much attention you give a choice like this.”
“Jealous?” Adolin said. “Of jackets?”
“Of the one you’re wearing them for.”
“I doubt you have anything to worry about from a group of stuffy old honorspren.”
“I don’t have anything to worry about regardless,” Shallan said. “But you’re not fussing today because of the honorspren. We won’t meet them for a few weeks at best.”
“I’m not fussing. I’m strategizing.” He tossed another jacket onto the bed. No. Too outdated. “Don’t give me that look. Are we ready?”
“Pattern’s run off to say goodbye to Wit for some reason,” she said. “Said it was very important—but I suspect that he’s misunderstood some joke Wit made. Other than waiting on him, everything is ready. We just need you.”
Supplies were gathered, transportation secured, and traveling companions chosen. Adolin had packed for the trip quickly and efficiently, and his trunks were already loaded. Those choices had been easy. But today’s jacket …
“So…” Shallan said. “Shall I tell them two more hours or three?”
“I’ll be down in fifteen minutes,” he promised, checking the fabrial clock set in the leather bracer Aunt Navani had given him. Then he eyed Shallan. “Maybe thirty.”
“I’ll tell them an hour,” Shallan said, with a grin. She trailed out, tossing her satchel over her shoulder.
Adolin put his hands on his hips and surveyed his options. None of them were right. What was he looking for?
Wait. Of course.
He emerged from his room a few minutes later wearing a uniform he hadn’t put on in years. It was Kholin blue, still a military outfit, but cut for a more relaxed fit. Though not specifically trendy, it had a more stylized set of glyphs on the back and thicker cuffs and collar than a standard uniform.
Many would have simply assumed it to be an ordinary Kholin uniform. Adolin had designed it himself four years earlier. He’d wanted to create something that would look sharp while satisfying his father’s requirements to be in uniform. The project had excited him for weeks; it had been his first—and only—real attempt at clothing design.
The first day he’d worn it, Dalinar had chewed him out. So it had gone into the trunk, tucked away. Forgotten.
Father probably still wouldn’t approve, but these days Dalinar didn’t approve of Adolin in general. So what was the harm? He replaced his arm bracer, strapped on his side sword, and entered the hallway. Then he hesitated.
Shallan had given him an hour, and there was something else Adolin wanted to check off his list before leaving. So he turned the other direction and climbed the steps toward the sixth floor.
* * *
Adolin was surprised to find a line at the clinic. The sixth floor wasn’t particularly well populated, but news had apparently spread. None of the waiting patients seemed too unfortunate—children cradling scrapes, with hovering parents nearby. A line of women with coughs or aches. Anything serious would warrant the attention of an Edgedancer or a Truthwatcher.
Some bowed to Adolin as he slipped into the front room, where Kaladin’s mother was greeting each patient and recording their symptoms. She smiled at Adolin, holding up two fingers, and waved him down the hallway beyond.
Adolin went that direction. The first room he passed had the door cracked, revealing Kaladin’s father seeing a young man. A town girl stood next to him, reading aloud the notes Lirin’s wife had taken.
The second room along the hallway was a similar—but empty—exam room. Adolin slipped in, and Kaladin entered a few minutes later, drying his hands on a cloth. It was odd to see him in simple brown trousers and a white buttoned shirt—in fact, had Adolin ever seen Kaladin out of uniform? Honestly … Adolin had assumed the man slept in the thing. Yet here he was, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his shoulder-length hair pulled back into a tail.
Kaladin stopped when he saw Adolin. “You can go to your brother for healing, Adolin. I have real patients that need help.”
Adolin ignored the comment and glanced out into the hallway, looking toward the waiting room. “You’re a popular fellow, bridgeboy.”
“I’m convinced half of them are here to get a peek at me,” Kaladin said, with a sigh. He tied on a white surgeon’s apron. “I fear my notoriety could overshadow the clinic’s purpose.”
Adolin chuckled. “Be careful. Now that I’ve vacated the position, you’re Alethkar’s most eligible bachelor. Shardbearer, Radiant, Landed, and single? I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that half the young ladies in the kingdom are suddenly coming down