turn us away,” she said. “But you can’t blame yourself for things that haven’t happened yet. Storms, who knows what will change between now and the time we arrive.”
“I suppose,” he said.
She took a spoonful of lavis and felt the individual grains with her tongue, plump and saturated with sweet curry making a mush in her mouth—gross, but wonderful. Pattern always talked about how strange humans were, surviving off the things they destroyed.
“When I left my homeland,” she said to Adolin, “I thought I knew what I was heading into. But I had no idea what would happen to me. Where I’d end up.”
“You had a pretty good idea,” Adolin said. “You set out to be Jasnah’s ward, and you managed it.”
“I set out to rob her,” Shallan said softly. She felt Adolin shift, looking toward her. “My family was impoverished, threatened by creditors, my father dead. We thought maybe I could rob that heretic Alethi woman, steal her Soulcaster—then we could use it to become rich again.”
She braced herself for the criticism. The shock.
Instead, Adolin laughed. Bless him, he laughed. “Shallan, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”
“Isn’t it though?” she said, twisting and grinning at him.
“Robbing Jasnah.”
“Yes.”
“Robbing Jasnah.”
“I know!”
He eyed her, then his grin broadened. “She’s never mentioned this, so I bet you did it, didn’t you? At least, you fooled her for a little while?”
Storms, I love this man, she thought. For his humor, his brightness, his genuine goodness. With that smile, brighter than the cold Shadesmar sun, she became Shallan. Deeply and fully.
“I totally did,” she whispered to him. “I swapped it for a fake one, and almost escaped. Except, you know, she’s Jasnah.”
“Yes, the big flaw in your plan. You’d probably have managed it against a normal person.”
“Well, the Soulcaster was always a dummy, so I was doomed from the start. Even if it had been real … I had this overinflated idea of how great a thief I could be. It’s funny to remember I had those same silly inclinations before Veil.”
“Shallan,” he said. “You don’t need to feel insecure any longer. The mission in the warcamps? You executed that perfectly.”
“Until someone else executed Ialai. Perfectly.” She looked at him, then smiled. “Don’t worry. I don’t struggle with feelings of insecurity any longer.”
“Good.”
“I’d say I’m pretty good at them.”
“Shallan…”
She grinned again, letting him know she was feeling all right despite the comment. He stared into her eyes, then grinned himself. And somehow she knew what was coming.
“Well, I’d say you’re a pretty good thief…” he began.
“Oh, don’t you dare.”
“… because you stole my heart.”
She groaned, leaning her head back. “You dared.”
“What? You’re the only one who can make bad jokes?”
“My jokes are not bad. They’re incredible. And they take a ton of work to create on the spot for the exact perfect situation.”
“A ton of work. To create on the spot. As if you don’t prepare them ahead of time?”
“Never.”
“Yeah? I’ve noticed you often seem to have one ready when you meet someone.”
“Well, of course. That kind of joke is a great greeting. They’re supposed to be hilarious.”
He frowned.
“As in,” she added, “not goodbyelarious.”
He stared at her. Then he went a little cross-eyed.
Ha! Veil thought. HA!
“Oh dear,” Shallan said. “Did I break you?”
“But … ‘hilarious’ doesn’t start with a ‘hi’ sound.… It doesn’t make sense.…”
“It was a stealth joke,” Shallan said. “Hiding in plain sight, like a Lightweaver. That’s what makes it genius.”
“Genius? Shallan, that was awful.”
“You’re full of awe,” she said. “Got it.” She smiled and snuggled against him, relaxing as she set down her bowl and took her sketchbook from him. She would finish her meal after she drew a little more. The moment demanded it.
Adolin put his arm around her and watched, then whistled softly. “Those sketches are really good, Shallan. Even for you. Have you done any others?”
Feeling warm, she turned the page to show off the cultivationspren she’d drawn. “I’d like to find both male and female subjects for each variety of spren. There might not be time for it on this trip, but it occurred to me that no one, at least not in the modern era, has ever done a natural history of the Radiant spren.”
“This is wonderful,” he said. “And thank you. For helping me relax. You’re right—I can’t know what is coming. The entire situation could change by the time we reach the honorspren. I’ll try to remember that.” He wrapped his arm loosely around her, the skin of his hand brushing her