as they entered the tunnel-like corridor beyond the gates.
The acoustics caught echoing whispers as the guards at the door conversed. Finally, one of them did call out after her. “. . . Brightness?”
She stopped, turning toward them and raising an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, Brightness,” the guard called. “But you are . . . ?”
She nodded to Vathah.
“You don’t recognize Brightness Davar?” he barked. “The causal betrothed of Brightlord Adolin Kholin?”
The guards hushed, and Shallan turned around to continue on her way. The conversation behind started up again almost immediately, loud enough this time that she could catch a few words. “. . . never can keep track of that man’s women . . .”
They reached an intersection. Shallan looked one way, then the other. “Upward, I’d guess,” she said.
“Kings do like to be at the top of everything,” Vathah said. “Attitude might get you past the outer door, Brightness, but it’s not going to get you in to see Kholin.”
“Are you really his betrothed?” Gaz asked nervously, scratching at his eye patch.
“Last I checked,” Shallan said, leading the way. “Which, granted, was before my ship sank.” She wasn’t worried about getting in to see Kholin. She’d at least get an audience.
They continued upward, asking servants for directions. Those scuttled about in clusters, jumping when spoken to. Shallan recognized that kind of timidity. Was the king as terrible a master as her father had been?
As they went higher, the structure seemed less like a fortress and more like a palace. There were reliefs on the walls, mosaics on the floor, carved shutters, an increasing number of windows. By the time they approached the king’s conference chamber near the top, wood trim framed the stone walls, with silver and gold leaf worked into the carvings. Lamps held massive sapphires, beyond the size of ordinary denominations, radiating bright blue light. At least she wouldn’t lack for Stormlight, should she need it.
The passage into the king’s conference room was clogged with men. Soldiers in a dozen different uniforms.
“Damnation,” Gaz said. “Those are Sadeas’s colors there.”
“And Thanadal, and Aladar, and Ruthar . . .” Vathah said. “He’s meeting with all the highprinces, as I said.”
Shallan could pick out factions easily, dredging from her studies of Jasnah’s book the names—and heraldry—of all ten highprinces. Sadeas’s soldiers chatted with those of Highprince Ruthar and Highprince Aladar. Dalinar’s stood alone, and Shallan could sense hostility between them and the others in the hallway.
Dalinar’s guards had very few lighteyes among them. That was odd. And did that one man at the door look familiar? The tall darkeyed man with the blue coat that went down to his knees. The man with the shoulder-length hair, curling slightly . . . He was speaking in a low voice with another soldier, who was one of the men from the gates below.
“Looks like they beat us up here,” Vathah said softly.
The man turned and looked her right in the eyes, then glanced down toward her feet.
Oh no.
The man—an officer, by the uniform—strode directly toward her. He ignored the hostile stares of the other highprinces’ soldiers as he walked right up to Shallan. “Prince Adolin,” he said flatly, “is engaged to a Horneater?”
She’d almost forgotten the encounter two days outside of the warcamps. I’m going to strangle that— She cut off, feeling a stab of depression. She had ended up killing Tyn.
“Obviously not,” Shallan said, raising her chin and not using the Horneater accent. “I was traveling alone through the wilderness. Revealing my true identity did not seem prudent.”
The man grunted. “Where are my boots?”
“Is this how you address a lighteyed lady of rank?”
“It’s how I address a thief,” the man said. “I’d just gotten those boots.”
“I’ll have a dozen new pairs sent to you,” Shallan said. “After I have spoken with Highprince Dalinar.”
“You think I’m going to let you see him?”
“You think you get to choose?”
“I’m captain of his guard, woman.”
Blast, she thought. That was going to be inconvenient. At least she wasn’t trembling from the confrontation. She really was past that. Finally.
“Well tell me, Captain,” she said. “What is your name?”
“Kaladin.” Odd. That sounded like a lighteyes’s name.
“Excellent. Now I have a name to use when I tell the highprince about you. He’s not going to like his son’s betrothed being treated this way.”
Kaladin waved to several of his soldiers. The men in blue surrounded her and Vathah and . . .
Where had Gaz gotten off to?
She turned and found him backing down the corridor. Kaladin spotted him, and started visibly.
“Gaz?” Kaladin