Rhythm of War (The Stormlight Archive #4) - Brandon Sanderson Page 0,78

Veil said. “It’s more complicated than you’re probably imagining. Wait … no. Ask Shallan to explain. She’ll love that.”

“Mmm,” the table said. “She changes colors. Like a sunset. Or an infected wound. Mmm.”

Adolin relaxed, resting his arm along the back of the bar seat—but not putting it around Veil. The two of them had a weird relationship when Shallan was wearing Radiant or Veil. At least they seemed to have mostly gotten over the part where they acted like lovesick fools all the time.

“The ladies have a point, bridgeboy,” Adolin said to him. “You have been extra sulky since Lyn broke up with you.”

“This isn’t about that.”

“Still, a fling couldn’t hurt, right?” Veil said. She nodded her chin toward one of the passing barmaids, a tall young woman with unusually light hair. “What about Hem over there? She’s tall.”

“Great. Tall,” Kaladin said. “Because we both measure roughly the same in inches, we’re sure to get along. Think of all the tall-person topics of conversation we could engage in. Like … Hmm…”

“Oh, don’t be sour,” Veil said, smacking him on the shoulder. “You didn’t even glance at her. She’s cute. Look at those legs. Back me up, Adolin.”

“She’s attractive,” he said. “But that blouse is terrible on her. I need to tell Marni that the house uniforms here are dreadful. They should at least have two different shades to match different skin tones.”

“What about Ka’s sister,” Veil said to Kaladin. “You’ve met her, right? She’s smart. You like smart girls.”

“Is there really anyone who doesn’t like smart girls?” Kaladin said.

“Me,” Veil said, raising her hand. “Give me dumb ones, please. They’re so easy to impress.”

“Smart girls…” Adolin said, rubbing his chin. “It’s too bad Skar snatched up Ristina. They’d have been a good match.”

“Adolin,” Veil said, “Ristina is like three feet tall.”

“So?” Adolin said. “You heard Kaladin. He doesn’t care about height.”

“Yeah, well, most women do. You’ve got to find someone who matches him. Too bad he screwed up his chance with Lyn.”

“I didn’t…” Kaladin protested.

“What about her,” Adolin said, pointing as someone new entered the tavern. A couple of lighteyed women in havahs, though they probably weren’t of high rank if they were visiting a winehouse frequented by darkeyes. Then again, Adolin was here. And things like nahn and rank had been … strangely less divisive this last year, under Jasnah’s rule.

One of the two newcomers was a younger woman with a luscious figure, accentuated by the tight havah. She had dark skin and red lips, clearly brightened with lip paint.

“Dakhnah,” Adolin said. “She’s the daughter of one of Father’s generals, Kal. She loves talking strategy—she’s acted as scribe in his war meetings since she was fourteen. I can introduce you.”

“Please don’t,” Kaladin said.

“Dakhnah…” Veil said. “You courted her, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Adolin dear, swing a Herdazian in a crowded room, and you’ll hit six women you courted.” She narrowed her eyes at the newcomer. “Those aren’t real, are they? She pads, right?”

Adolin shook his head.

“Seriously?” Veil said. “Stormfather. To get mine that big I’d have to eat six chulls. How do they feel?”

“You’re making assumptions,” Adolin said.

She glared at him, then poked him in the shoulder. “Come on.”

He turned eyes toward the ceiling and pointedly took a drink, though he smiled as she poked him again. “This is not a topic for gentlemen to discuss,” he said with an airy tone.

“I’m neither gentle nor a man,” Veil said. “I’m your wife.”

“You’re not my wife.”

“I share a body with your wife. Close enough.”

“You two,” Kaladin said, “have the strangest relationship.”

Adolin gave him a slow nod that seemed to say, You have no idea. Veil downed the rest of her drink, then upended the empty cup. “Where’s that storming barmaid?”

“You sure you haven’t had enough?” Adolin asked.

“Am I sitting up straight?”

“A vague approximation.”

“There’s your answer,” she said—sliding out of the booth by moving over him in a maneuver that involved a lot of her touching a lot of him—then went picking through the crowd for the barmaid.

“She’s in rare form today,” Kaladin noted.

“Veil has been cooped up for a month, pretending to be that woman in the warcamps,” he replied. “And Radiant stressed greatly about their mission. The few times we managed to meet, Shallan was practically crawling up the walls with tension. This is her way of letting loose.”

Well, if it worked for them … “Is Ialai Sadeas really dead?”

“Unfortunately. Father already has armies moving to the warcamps. Initial reports say her men have offered articles of surrender; they